All Tangled Up

Chapter 6

"Peter!"  My eyes snapped open as I heard the familiar female voice.  I dropped down to the floor, facing the love of my life.

Gwen Stacy.

Her hair was straightened, and she was dressed in a tight-fitting black top and a pair of skinny jeans.  Her feet were in black and white tennis shoes, and hardly any makeup dusted her face.  I had never seen her wearing pants, only skirts, except one time.  This was the most casually dressed I had ever seen her, but she was still beautiful.

She appeared shocked at the fact that I had been on the roof, and at the suit I was wearing, but her espression quickly softened as I walked up to her.  I stared at her longingly through my cell bars.

"What are you doing here?  How did you get in?"  I whispered.  "Your father forbade..."  She stopped me with a raised hand, then pushed my cell door open. 

We were now only a foot apart.  She looked up into my eyes.

"I have a few tricks," she whispered back.  "Although, that doesn't mean that I'm particularly happy with you."  She lifted her right hand, and my spider senses were triggered.  I still didn't move.  I deserved this.  She slapped my face, hard.  My head jerked backward, and I swallowed a shout, reminding myself to keep quiet.  My face throbbed for a moment, and I turned back to look at her again.  I, actually, deserved way more than that.

"Nice," I said, wiping a small trickle of blood from my mouth.  Gwen smiled with satisfaction, wiggled the fingers on her right hand, then put her hands on her hips, cocking her head.

"Why didn't you tell me?"  She said accusingly.

"I didn't know how."

"I'll tell you how: 'I'm Spider-Man!'"  Her voice raised, and she had to lean her head down and suck in a breath.  She spoke again, returning to a whisper.  "I don't know what to think.  I don't know who to trust."

"Trust me.  Please."  I sighed, running a hand through my hair.  I let my hand drop back to my side as I stepped backward, then turned around to face the wall.  My posture grew terrible; I wanted to collapse to the floor.

"Peter," she mumbled, following me.  Her hand touched my shoulder, and tingles ran through my body.  I tensed, turning back to face her.  I shook my head, my eyes growing moist.  "Why should I trust you?"  She didn't ask the question in a mean tone.  Instead, it was as if she already did trust me, but she wanted to know my reasoning.

"I love you, Gwen," I said.  "I just...I don't know.  I don't know what I was thinking.  I thought I could help people, you know.  I'm not trying to hurt them."  I remembered what Marcus said.  "I'm just a kid.  A stupid, immature high school senior who was bitten by a lab experiment, and thinks he can save the world because of it.  You hate me, Gwen.  Just say it.  I don't deserve you.  I deserve this cell.  I don't deserve parole.  Just go.  Leave."  Her own eyes welled with tears, but she didn't move.

"That's not true.  None of this is."

"Then what is true?" 

"You're not stupid.  You're not immature.  You're one of the most mature high school seniors I know.  Well, maybe you can't save the world, but you surely can save some of it."  I blinked, my vision blurring from my tears.  "And I love you, too."  Her hands wrapped around my neck, and she pulled my head down so it was closer to hers.  And then her lips were on mine.

I wrapped my arms around her in a hug as our kiss deepened.  I could taste salt from our fallen tears.  We kissed until we were out of breath, and she backed away.  I held her hands in my own.

"I trust you," she said.  "I always have.  I know you'll get out."  I released one of her hands to brush a lock of hair behind her ear.  "Oh, and if anyone asks, this never happened."  Her fingers slipped from mine, and she backed away, a small smile on her face. 

She left, already in stealth mode, and I could not hide my smile.  I didn't have to.  I was alone.

Not for long.