Chapter Text
The last class on Fridays always felt like the longest week in the world compressed into forty minutes.
Rain slammed hard against the classroom windows while the teacher kept talking about algebraic expressions at the board with a voice that almost blended together with the buzzing fluorescent lights above. Most of the students had lost focus a long time ago. Some sat with phones hidden under their desks, others doodled in notebooks or stared blankly out the windows at the gray New York streets outside.
At the very back of the classroom sat Peter Parker with his hood pulled over his head and his hands tucked into the sleeves of the oversized hoodie he almost always wore.
He wasn’t really writing anymore. The pen just rested between his fingers while he waited for the class to end.
It wasn’t until the bell rang that the classroom truly came alive again. Chairs scraped loudly against the floor, people talked over each other, and everyone grabbed their bags before practically running for the door like they had been trapped in there.
Peter stood up calmly and slid his math book into his backpack.
“Parker.”
He stopped immediately when the teacher said his name.
Mr. Hill still stood by the board with a paper in his hand, already looking exhausted even though the school day had just ended.
“You forgot your test.”
Peter walked over and took it without saying anything. A large red A was written across the top of the page.
The teacher looked at him for a few seconds before sighing quietly.
“You’re smart, Peter. I just wish you actually participated sometimes.”
Peter didn’t answer. He never did. Instead, he just gave a short nod and tucked the paper into his bag before leaving the classroom.
The hallways were full of noise and movement. People laughed loudly, lockers slammed shut, and somewhere farther down the hall someone played music from a speaker even though it definitely wasn’t allowed.
Peter kept his eyes down while walking to his locker.
He had barely started entering the code when he heard the voice behind him.
“Hey, Parker.”
He stiffened slightly but didn’t turn around.
Three guys stood a few feet away leaning against the lockers with those smug expressions Peter knew far too well by now.
“So, have you decided to start talking yet?” one of them said with a crooked grin. “Or are you waiting for a special occasion?”
The others immediately burst out laughing.
Peter opened his locker without reacting outwardly, though his jaw tightened slightly.
“I swear,” another guy continued, “it’s actually creepy how quiet he is. Sometimes he just stands there staring.”
“Maybe he’s a robot.”
“No, an alien.”
“No wait— maybe both.”
The guys laughed even louder.
Peter calmly took out his books and tried to ignore them like always, but before anyone could say anything else another voice cut through the hallway.
“Okay wow, you guys must’ve practiced really hard to come up with those jokes.”
Ned Leeds walked through the hallway with his backpack hanging off one shoulder and an expression that already screamed he was ready to argue with literally anyone.
The guys immediately rolled their eyes.
“We’re not talking to you, Leeds.”
“Good,” Ned shot back quickly. “Because I actually get a little dumber every time you open your mouths.”
One of the guys muttered something irritated before they finally walked away.
Ned watched them for a few seconds before turning back to Peter.
“You know one day I’m gonna win an award for being the world’s greatest best friend, right?”
Peter couldn’t stop the small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
Ned instantly pointed at him like he had just discovered something historic.
“There! There it was! A real facial expression!”
Peter lightly rolled his eyes and pulled out his phone.
You’re exaggerating.
Ned read the screen and grinned.
“No. You just make it extremely difficult for people to know if you even have feelings sometimes.”
Peter typed again.
Been considering a career as a professional statue.
Ned laughed loudly right away.
“Okay, that was actually funny.”
They started walking together through the hallway and toward the school’s main entrance while Ned kept talking almost nonstop, which basically just meant Peter listened and occasionally typed short replies whenever he felt like it.
Outside, the rain had gotten lighter, but the air was still cold and damp. The streets reflected the city lights and passing cars splashed water onto the sidewalks.
“By the way,” Ned said as they walked down the block together, “did you see that video from Queens last night?”
Peter glanced at him briefly.
Ned kept going without waiting for an answer.
“Spider-Man apparently stopped like four guys trying to rob a store, and someone filmed the whole thing from a window. He was talking nonstop the entire time.”
Peter almost walked straight into a streetlamp.
Ned raised an eyebrow.
“You okay there?”
Peter nodded quickly and pulled out his phone again.
Just tired.
“Mhm,” Ned said suspiciously before continuing. “But seriously, how does Spider-Man talk so much? If I fought criminals, I’d be completely focused.”
Peter typed back almost immediately.
Maybe talking makes him less scared.
Ned stared at the screen for a few seconds. “…That got unexpectedly deep.”
Peter slipped his phone back into his pocket.
They kept walking through several more blocks before finally reaching the intersection where they usually split up.
“You’re coming to the chemistry lab tomorrow, right?” Ned asked.
Peter nodded.
“Good. Because if I have to do that group project alone, I’ll probably accidentally create a biological disaster.”
Peter quickly typed:
Feels like something you’re already close to doing daily.
“Ouch. Rude.”
Peter shrugged lightly.
Ned started walking backward across the sidewalk while pointing at him.
“And try to survive the weekend at that orphanage.”
The words were meant as a joke. But the moment they left Ned’s mouth, Peter’s expression changed almost imperceptibly.
Ned noticed immediately and sighed quietly.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”
Peter quickly shook his head as if to say it was fine. But the truth was, it never really was fine there.
The orphanage was several blocks away in an old worn-down building squeezed between two even older apartment complexes. The light above the entrance flickered constantly, and one of the windows on the second floor was still cracked even though it had been like that for months.
Peter stood outside the door for a few seconds before walking inside.
The place smelled like old food, cleaning chemicals, and damp walls.
“You’re late.”
The voice came immediately from the hallway.
Mr. Garrison, the caretaker, stood with his arms crossed already looking irritated even though Peter had barely stepped through the door.
Peter pulled out his phone.
School ended late.
The man barely glanced at the screen before scoffing.
“That excuse might work on your teachers, but not on me.”
Peter lowered his gaze slightly.
“You’re helping in the kitchen tonight. And if I get one more call about you ignoring staff at school, there’ll be no outings next month.”
Peter simply nodded once.
It was always the same.
Nod. Write. Stay out of the way.
He had learned a long time ago that things became easier that way.
Later that evening, Peter sat alone on the narrow bed in his small room while the rain continued hitting the window outside. The other boys he shared the room with were downstairs yelling at each other over some video game.
The room was dark except for the light from the phone in Peter’s hands.
A news clip played across the screen showing Spider-Man swinging between buildings while the reporter spoke quickly in the background.
“The masked hero was once again spotted in Queens after stopping another robbery—”
Peter locked the phone before the reporter could finish.
The room fell silent again.
He sat still for a few seconds before slowly getting off the bed, kneeling on the floor, and carefully lifting a loose floorboard beneath the bed frame.
Underneath it lay the suit.
Red and blue.
Hidden well from the rest of the world.