The Amazing Spider-Man 3

Chapter 11

Mary Jane and I managed to finish our robot project. It turned out very well, but Mary Jane didn't put 100% of effort in it after I rejected her. She made sure to tell our instructor that, if we ever did another group project, she did not want to be my partner. I didn't mind, but college instructors usually don't give a crap about what you want, and he could put us together again just for meanness.

Sirens echoed through the city. I fidgeted in my desk. How would I get out of this? I turned to look at Lance, who was grinning at me.

If I left this time, he would find out.

I was sure of it.

If Lance found out I was Spider-Man, he would make sure it was no longer a secret. He would tell everyone that he had the chance to. I couldn't let that happen.

I relaxed back into my chair. Lance gave a "humph" and returned to his work. I sighed and closed my eyes for a minute, hoping, hoping with everything I had, that the police could handle this one.

Was I really that doubtful? The New York Police Department, of all people, couldn't handle a simple crime without the help of a mutant college kid who, as Harry Osborn had once said, "wears spandex to save kittens from trees"? Before, you know, he became the Green Goblin. How helpless had the police become?

---

I was relieved to find in the news that the criminal was captured with ease. The missed appearance of Spider-Man spread rumors, though...was he disappearing again? Was he saving someone else, instead? Did he know about the crime? Did he think the police should have the right to handle it all on their own?

Becoming famous has its advantages and disadvantages. Yes, everyone loves you, but if you make one mistake, or if you miss one event, everyone starts to panic and point fingers. I have always ignored wealth and fame, because that is just not me. I don't save people because I want money and fans, I save people because they need it, and I have come to love saving people.

---

I was heading from my biology class to my technology one when I was stopped in the hallway by Lance.

"Don't you find it ironic, Peter, that, the one time you don't leave when you hear sirens, Spider-Man doesn't show up, either?" He crossed his arms, cocking his head. I tried not to show emotion on the outside, but inside me was fear and anxiety. He found out anyway.

"And what is that supposed to mean?" I played stupid.

"It means that you have a connection with him! You help him out! Or maybe, you ARE him, huh? Am I right?" His hands grabbed my shoulders, then he shoved me against a wall. His face was inches from mine, and his filthy breath tickled my nostrils.

Isn't it ironic, though, that, if I was Spider-Man, he still believed he could pin me to the wall and keep me there? That he could win a fight against me?

If I wanted to convince him that I wasn't Spider-Man, I had to act like I was still the weak nerd. How could I do that? I noticeably changed at Midtown Science High School, pinning Flash to the lockers. I'm not a weak nerd anymore, and everyone knows it.

"Lance, just give me a break, okay, I just need to get to class, and..." I began.

"I asked you a question, Parker!" He yelled. Students turned and looked in our direction. Fights were always entertaining to watch, especially in college, when they weren't as common.

"And why would I?" I answered his question with a question of my own. I didn't want the other students to realize what this was about, because they could discover my alter-ego just as easily as Lance. They could spread the secret just as easily.

"I'm not here to play your stupid games! I'm asking the questions, here!"

"Bane!" Lance was interrupted by an instructor who taught a class across the hall. Bane was Lance's last name. "Now, you could easily get suspended or even expelled from these actions, young man. I suggest you allow Mr. Parker to get to his next class, or you and I will have another discussion later, with someone with much more authority than me." Lance let out a sigh and released me.

It was difficult for me to stand there and endure that. Oh, how I wanted so badly to throw him out a window, but I resisted the urge. I couldn't blow my cover, not now, not ever.

"This isn't over, Parker!" Lance shouted at me, stomping away.

"Actually, I believe it is," the instructor said. "It'd better be." He turned to me. "Sorry you had to go through that, Peter."

I nodded, looking to my feet. "It's okay..."

"No, it's not. If you ever need anything, just come to me, alright? I'm Mr. Allen. I teach graphic design," he said, repositioning his glasses. A strand of his greying brown hair fell in his face, so he tucked it back behind his ear.

"Thank you, Mr. Allen," I said. "I might take your class one day. It's something that interests me..."

"And I'd love to have you. Now, I think both of us have our own classes to get to, am I right?" I nodded. "Well, I guess we'd better get along then, huh? See you again sometime!" He gave a small wave and returned to his classroom.

Mr. Allen wasn't just an average college instructor. He actually cared about his classmates, which was a precious but rare quality in college.

I knew, right then, that I had made a new friend. One that I would need in the near future, because I knew that things were going to get very messy between Lance and me...very soon.