𝚍𝚒𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞 ➪ 𝚙. 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚎𝚛

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚎

𝚋𝚊𝚛𝚋𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚌𝚔
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

With Hazel playing contently in her room and my mom still at work, I could finally have my time to be alone.

I collapsed on my bed and sighed, pulling out my book.  It'd been a long day and I hoped I would get hit by a bus or something so I wouldn't have to deal with the pressure and decisions of tomorrow that would almost indefinitely arrive.

The setting sun cast looming shadows across my room and I watched them curiously for a moment. Something unusual stood between the sun and my room.

"Hey." The voice made me jump, though it sounded familiar when I thought about it.

I turned and immediately recognized the mysterious figure. He wore a hoodie-onesie, I don't actually know what it is, with goggles that stuck out tackily. He wore a red mask, concealing his face. It matched the rest of his outfit.

"Spider-Man?" I asked, sitting cross-legged on my bed. I set my book down on my bed as he entered through the window.

"I hear we're dating now." He chuckled. I turned beet red.

"Peter actually did it? He talked to you?"

"Yeah, you shouldn't underestimate him. Don't worry, he told me it was his fault—the excuse, I mean." Spider-Man reassured. He stood across from my bed now.

"Good, um..." I trailed off. What was there to talk about?

"So do you plan to truth your way out of this or do you want my help?" Asked the dude in red across from me.

"I can deal with it." I said without hesitation.

Spider-Man looked at me as though he was raising his eyebrows incredulously, "Can you?"

I thought ahead, picturing what might happen tomorrow at school. That guy would surely tell his friends, if he had any, who would continue on the infinite train of gossip.

"No." I finally sighed. Spider-Man went and sat on my windowsill.

"I'd be willing to...pretend? For your sake," He said casually. I scooted over so my legs hung off the side of my bed.

"How do I know you won't rat me out, or that you're not some thirty year old man?"

"I guess you don't," He shrugged, "You'll just have to trust me."

I heard the front door slam and my mother's voice calling us to say hello to her. Panic swelled up inside me.

"Yeah, sure I trust you. Now you have to go." I urged, pushing at his chest so he'd go back out the window, "Thanks, by the way."

"Anytime," He gave me a small salute and backflipped off the fire escape outside my window.

I scoffed, "Showoff."

"Sunny?" Mom called, cracking the door open. She noted my open window and gave me a quizzical look.

"Um, it was warm in here." I lied. I wondered if the remaining blush on my face would help my story.