[REWRITING] SHOOT TO THRILL ✷ May Parker

07. slow ride

07. slow ride
(🕸🧷🎒🤟🏼🕷)
a plane cabin
int. day

     "OH, AND THEN I WAS like 'Who's Maria?' and he totally freaked out," Peter told Ned, moodily stirring the cup of soda on his tray table.

     His friend didn't seem like he knew what to make of that. "I dunno. He was kind of nice earlier." Ned peeked over the top of his seat before checking the isle behind them. "Besides," he continued in a lower voice, "why would he cheat on May? I thought you literally just said that he told you how much he liked her—and all that gross stuff."

     They'd been in the air for a couple of hours. Peter and Ned were squished next to each other, seated towards the back of the cabin. Peter was thankful that Gavin had to sit upfront with Mr. Dell and Mr. Harrington, because the flight had given him some time to think—replaying that morning's conversation in the car over and over in his head. He wasn't sure what it was, but there was something about Gavin Carver that made him grateful they were nine rows apart.

     "It was so weird. It's like he thought I didn't believe him or something—like he had to prove it to me. C'mon, Ned. I don't want it to be true or anything. I wanna try and like him—it's his fault for...I dunno, being suspicious and stuff!"

     "Dude, I don't not believe you," he assured Peter. "He just seems like a normal, kinda nerdy dude. Okay, yeah, I'll admit that he's way too jacked for a history professor, but everyone's got something about them that's...different," he looked to his friend pointedly. "Some people hide things for a reason."

     "Oh, seriously? No. This is nothing like...that."

     "You hid...that from May for a while, because you wanted to keep her safe. Or, y'know, some hero thing like that."

"...Stop making sense when I want you to agree with me," Peter grumbled, turning to face the window.

Ned looked as if he had something more to say, but fell short, glancing down at his phone.

They sat in a discontented silence, the hum of the plane's engine providing a backdrop for Peter's thoughts. They were snowballing into a dangerous place—not that he wanted his suspicions to be true. It wouldn't hurt to investigate, would it? For May's sake, of course.

"Ned," Peter said breathlessly, twisting around. "I could totally use the suit to—"

"Hey, kid."

Peter flinched. Gavin was gripping Ned's seat, leaning over into their row. He was imposing like that: blocking their only means of escape.

"Hi, Mr. Carver," Ned said brightly.

Peter stepped on his friend's foot. He couldn't look Gavin in the eye. "Um, hey—what's up?"

Gavin shrugged. "Just checkin' on you. The teachers they've got me sitting with are worse to listen to than I am, and I've got a three hour lecture on Wednesday nights."

     Peter forced a faint smile. "Yeah, they're like...okay. Sorry."

"S'all good. What're you guys up to?"

"Nothing," Ned said quickly.

     "That's convincing," the man chuckled. "Oh—and May texted about fifteen minutes ago," Gavin looked at Peter. "She was just seeing how we were doing."

     Peter nodded, his eyes vacant as he fiddled with his cup again.

     "You alright?"

     Something in Gavin's voice made Peter look, as if someone had forcibly twisted his head to the side. Ned's quip about his physique came to mind—Gavin was too much, serious and hard, like he had to fight not to be. Even the grip he had on Ned'd seat was vice-like. It was frightening, and it was exactly the feeling Peter'd gotten—put into words. "Yeah. Fine."