WEB OF LIES [TRANS PETER PARKER]

one

Chapter One

Peter's POV

"Welcome, Midtown School's freshman class. Today you'll be joining us for a look inside our newest exhibit, one that explores the many possibilities, and impossibilities, of mutant spiders. Now, I've been told that your teacher has already assigned a research project, so make sure that you're keeping an eye out for that. Alright, now, follow along."

The class collectively groaned at the thought of work. After all, we were students at a STEM school and this was practically an art project. My fingers tapped rhythmically along the sides of my camera and I began scanning the room as we entered.

Tall ceilings and screens of flashing lights, and diagrams galore. I filed through the rows between posters of extensive research and tanks filled with every kind of spider imaginable: tarantulas, daddy long legs, black widows...

"Over here you'll see our prized experiments. These fifteen spiders have been genetically engineered, their RNA modified to be classified among the most fascinating spiders of our planet. Not to mention, the most dangerous."

I came to a halt as the exhibit opened up before me. A five-by-three grid of enclosures were on display behind a set of metal bars.

Not noticing that I had stopped, Ned pummeled into me from behind. "Hey, Pete, watch it," he joked, but I still stared in awe at the sight before me.

Sure, I hated spiders as much as the next guy, but these were more than just creepy crawlies. They had patterns of blues and reds, and moved with such patience and precision that I felt all time beginning to slow down. The fifteen of them gazed up at me, and I-

"Actually, it's fourteen," a voice called out from behind us.

"Excuse me?" the tour guide asked, having already begun to lead the front of the group towards the next exhibit.

"Fourteen. Spiders," the voice clarified. Ned and I spun around to face the owner of the unfamiliar voice.

Hid behind the bangs of her frizzy hair, the girl looked to be our age. She wore a simple blue dress with a grey sweater, and knee socks complemented her black converse. One of her hands gripped her other arm and her shoulders were sunk down. It was a stance of fright that I knew too well.

"Shit. Ned, that's-"

"Michelle. I know, she's been here all week-"

"No! Ned, I mean-" I cut myself off this time, glancing reluctantly over my shoulder a final time to find her eyes on us. "I- I know her. Like, from before. B-before before."

"Peter, I don't know what you-"

"Russell Sage, Ned. She knew the old me," I confessed, still frozen in place.

I didn't stand around to hear what was inevitably my best friends face of realization, because often times he reached this stage long after I had already booked it out of there. I don't know why I was so afraid of my past. It was going to catch up with me eventually. I had already ran from Russell Sage Junior High, and was determined to stay low. Nobody would ever know me as anybody but Peter Parker. Even Michelle, I would make sure of it.

I didn't know where I was headed, I sprinted through the room with the tall glass ceilings, desperate to find a place to hide. Habitually, I drew myself towards the sign that read "restrooms". That is, until I got to the accompanying gendered signs, and then I looked around for Ned.

You see, in the seven months that I had known Ned, he had become like a brother to me. He knew that I refused to enter the men's bathroom alone, and so he came with me. Every time. It seemed silly, as I stood paralyzed in front of the door, but it was one of those things that even a year on testosterone hadn't enlightened in me.

In a full onset of panic, I managed to turn from the door and run right into a corner, and into a cobweb.

The sticky strands arched over my writhing body, and I began shivering and batting at my surroundings, as though to kill its creator. I winced in sudden pain as I felt a pinch on the underside of my left wrist, and immediately began swatting at it.

"Peter! There you are! I've been looking all over- jeez look at you. C'mon, get up here," he said, and I felt his arm swoop under my own, easily lifting my thin body upwards. He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and led me to the bathroom, which I now welcomed with ease. Once inside, he let go of me, and I began rubbing at my arms as though subconsciously.

"Are you alright, man?"

I turned to face the sink, my eyes falling to the spot on my hand where a pink lump had formed around two red indents. Despite the feeling of fire on my hand, I simply splashed some water on my face and let my mind wander from it.

I really didn't want any more attention, nor worrying from Ned. Seriously, he got pretty overprotective at times.

"Peter?"

"Maybe you should just... go." I tugged my sleeves down and began pulling at the layers on my chest.

"Are you sure?"

Yes, I was sure, but I didn't speak. Ned knew all too well that I couldn't stand being in men's bathrooms all alone.

"O-okay then. I'll just... go." He made finger gun signs towards the door and proceeded to find his way out, his eyes lingering before he finally shut me in.

I turned back to the mirror, resting my elbows on the sink. I studied my face in the mirror. Had I changed enough that Michelle wouldn't recognize me? Did I really care if she did? The answer was yes, I would care, but I had no baseline of whether she even remembered me name. All I knew was that I remembered hers.