friendly neighbourhood writer

Peter raised his eyebrows, "News for me news or newspaper news?"

You rolled your eyes at him, "Big news: I might have found a lead on who Spiderman is."

"What!?" Peter choked on his hot chocolate.

"Look, I know it is more of a punt than anything solid but just hear me out: I think he might be a kid from our school." Any colour that was left in Peter's face had drained out. You grabbed your laptop and opened it in front of you both, "This is a list of all the recorded sightings of Spiderman. If you look here, weekends are sporadic but from Monday to Friday you can see that the earliest sightings are all around 3:45. Never any earlier. School finishes at 3:30, so you have to agree that there is at least some plausibility in this." You flicked up a map of Queens onto your screen, "And here, I've plotted all these sightings and any schools in the area. If he's our age, he has to be going to our school, Peter. You can't deny all these sightings are basically a cluster around school and if you can think of any other explanation, please enlighten me." You sat back and observed Peter's reaction.

"But... Y/N... that would make him just a kid." He licked his lips.

You wanted to catch him off guard. You didn't want to interrogate him but if the rumours were true... "Are you saying he's not a kid?"

"Yes!" Peter shot back.

"Because you know him."

"Yes!" You weren't sure whose eyes went bigger, "I mean no. I don't know him. I know Spiderman but I don't know who he is." He tried to recover, "I just know he isn't a kid. He's too tall and broad and his voice is too deep and he's too... too intimidating to be some kid. I hate to say this but it is probably just some coincidence." Peter exhaled, finally meeting your eye, "Why do you want to uncover Spiderman's identity anyway? Surely if he wanted to be known he would make it so."

You considered this for a moment. To be completely honest, you hadn't thought that far ahead. It was just the thrill of the unknown and the glory of being the only one to know who he really is. "I don't want to expose him," you knew that much was true, you respected his want for privacy, "I just- there's something about the mystery of it all, you know? Imagine getting an interview with Spiderman or exclusive details? I just enjoy this, the sleuthing, the stake-outs... I know I won't really find out who he is, it's just the excitement of it all, you know?"

"I just don't want you getting involved with Spiderman; he's the one fighting the bad guys and if they find out you're involved with him? They'll come after you, Y/N." Peter shook his head, "And I think you'll find that's the opposite of what he's trying to do."

Everything became too sombre too quickly. You didn't like it, with Peter it was meant to be all laughs and smiles, not whatever this was. You sat there in silence for a while, neither wanting to disturb the other.

"Hey, how about this," Peter met your eye for the first time in forever, "if you help me look around school tomorrow and we find nothing, I'll forget about this whole Spiderman thing."

The side of his mouth curved up into a smile. "Deal."

-

"What are you even looking for?" Peter leaned against the row of lockers which you were idly flicking open.

"Right now?" you asked, peering into the next locker, "I'm looking to see if Spiderman's made a mistake whilst we wait for someone to unlock the reprographics room."

"What, you think Spiderman's left his suit in his locker? Don't you think he must be slightly more intelligent than that?" he said too quickly.

You frowned as you came across a locked locker, completely ignoring Peter. "Hey, isn't this your locker? What secrets have you got locked away in there?" you turned to him to laugh but he looked too sheepish to join in. You rolled your eyes instead. "Whatever, forget I even asked- I don't want to know what could be so bad that you had to lock it away."

Fortunately, one of the reprographics staff walked past and saved you from whatever hell of a response Peter was going to come back with. You waited for the door to almost shut before catching it with your foot, millimetres from it locking. Peter looked at you with a big oh no when he realised why you had asked if he was any good at quickly copying files. You tossed a memory stick across to Peter.

"It's your time to shine, pretty boy."

-

In theory, your plan was foolproof. You were going to distract the reprographics staff in the back room whilst Peter copied the list of everyone's extracurriculars. Simple.

However, Peter didn't seem to agree- because if anyone is going to lose their neck over this Y/N, it's going to be me. You shrugged and told him something along the lines of suck it up, princess.

The member of reprographics was more than surprised to see you- students were strictly prohibited from entering- and made signs of protest before you swooped in to explain.

"Hello, I'm so sorry to bother you but I was wondering if you could help us? Peter and I are working on an article for the school newspaper special on our school's rich and frankly fascinating history. I was hoping that you had some old documents you could show me that I could include?" You managed to muster a sweet smile and any fight left in her face drained out.

"Follow me." she gestured towards the back room. With her back turned, you finger gunned towards Peter. He pursed his lips in response with a slight raise of his eyebrows as if to say, why am I doing this? Why is it always me?

You turned your attention back to the reprographics lady and humoured her small talk as you flicked through files without really seeing any of the documents. You couldn't focus, all you could think about was Peter's stupid locked locker and whatever he was hiding from you. It was stupid, you knew he didn't have to tell you everything- everyone had secrets, even you- but you didn't like it. It was as though someone had stuffed a huge locked locker shaped wedge between you.

Perhaps what bothered you most wasn't the secret itself; it was what it meant. It meant that Peter had a bigger secret than your biggest secret and you thought your secret was pretty big.

That secret being Peter, of course.

You lost whatever train of thought you were following because the reprographics lady was leaving to go back to her computer, her computer which Peter was currently meddling with. Without thinking, you gasped so she turned back to you. She looked at you expectantly as you struggled to explain what had surprised you so much.

Grasping at straws, you exclaimed, "I love your shoes!" You both glanced down at her brown, shapeless loafers.

"Thank you." She said, turning on her heel. Her voice was filled with thinly veiled indignancy.

"Wait! Where did you get them from?" She knew you were stalling this time and after a momentary pause she hurried back to her desk with more speed than before. You scrambled after her and reached her desk at the same time as her.

Her desk which Peter was sprawled underneath.

"It looked comfortable?" He tried.

-

Needless to say, you got kicked out.

You sat outside the school as the sky began to darken, backs pressed against the wall and chins tipped to the sky. You were horribly aware of how close you were, barely centimetres away from each other, and yet it still felt like each centimetre was a kilometre. You sighed and Peter turned to look at you for what seemed to the first time all day.

"What's up?"

You ran your tongue along your bottom lip as you calculated the perfect words to summarise how you felt. "Well, I fucked that up."

Peter frowned at you, "What do you mean?"

You went to give him an exasperated glance- as if he didn't think that the whole plan had completely fucked up- and saw him toss something and catch it.

"You did it!?" You looked at him in awe.

"Y/N, I have never and will never fail you." He smiled at you and some of the icy distance between you seemed to melt away.

-

You couldn't wait to go through the data so Peter suggested you went back to his since his aunt was away. You printed the lists off and highlighted all the names of students who did no extracurriculars and then narrowed it down to just the boys (Spiderman couldn't be girl, no matter how much you wanted him to be because he had the wrong build) and finally crossed out the remaining names who were either too short by Peter's judgement or too young, leaving a little over a dozen names.

"I think we can cross my name out.", Peter said next to you.

You raised an eyebrow at him, "Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth."

"The truth is I'm not Spiderman."

Could Peter be Spiderman? You dismissed the thought with amusement. You sighed, crossing his name out and Peter exhaled in response. Poking him in the arm you said, "I guess it is impossible- Spiderman definitely doesn't have stick arms."

Peter looked offended, "I do not have stick arms! Look at them!"

You rolled your eyes, "Yeah, your biceps are even bigger than Thor's, Peter." You collapsed onto the sofa, your short list of names still clasped in your hand. One of these kids is Spiderman. You shook your head to yourself in amazement. What next? What next indeed- you tried to think only to find you couldn't.

"What time is it?" You groaned.

"It's just gone two." Peter flopped down next to you and yawned. At least he was as tired as you were.

"I'm just going to close my eyes for a moment." Peter murmured something that sounded like agreement. You put your legs on the side of the sofa and leant back until your shoulder was pressed against his forearm and your head leant against his bicep. He tensed at the contact and you immediately felt stupid for saying he had stick arms as you realised that that couldn't be further from the truth. You almost pulled away- you were tired to a degree that your thoughts were so incoherent that you had only thought about getting comfortable- but then he relaxed and leant back into you.

It was small moments like this though, when it was just the pair of you absentmindedly discussing school and exams and all those horrible things, that you fell in love with Peter all over again. He leant back on his locker, all large hand gestures and restless eyes, avidly describing how he was most definitely going to fail the bio test tomorrow.

"If you're going to fail, Peter, the whole class is royally screwed." you sighed, shoving your hands in your pockets. He managed a nervous smile back at you.

"In that case, I better get studying," he said, running his hand through his hair, "still on for tonight in the library?"

Before you could try to play it cool when you really wouldn't miss it for the world, you noticed something hanging over your heads. You glanced up.

"Is that mistletoe?" it was hanging from a string, attached to a rod which was attached to a sheepish Ned. He grinned at you all the same.

"It looks like you're going to have to kiss." he said with a shrug, before noticing your expression, "Sorry, I don't make the rules."

You realised that suddenly neither you nor Peter could quite meet the other's eyes. You knocked the hanging mistletoe out of Ned's hands whilst shooting him a look (he grabbed his chest as you did, claiming that your looks really could kill) and muttered some illegible apology to Peter about having to run to maths. As soon as you got to your seat, you threw your head in your hands and began to wonder what would have happened if you had kissed Peter under the mistletoe.

-

Thankfully, any awkward passing that had occurred that morning had cleared before you got to your study session with Peter. You didn't get nearly as much work done as you really should have done as always, but neither of you seemed to mind. You laughed until you were both moaning that the other had to stop because I swear my intestines are going to fall out if you don't.

It was nice though. He was nice. You sat there, chin resting on your hand as you watched him read it the textbook, hair flopping in front of his eyes, quite enjoying yourself until your phone went off.

"Oh shit." you muttered, "my parents are going to kill me if I'm home late again." Peter smiled a lazy smile back at you.

"I'll walk you home."

-

Walking home was probably your favourite part because it was always the most thrilling. You would walk side-by-side, shoulders touching, fingertips brushing, neither daring to speak in fear of breaking whatever it was that passed between you. It was always too soon though that you were standing outside your apartment building.

Peter followed you up the steps to the door, only pausing on the one below you. You stood there for a moment, just observing the other with your eyes level. You watched his eyes trace around the lines of your face, allowing yours to do the same to his until they found the curve of his jaw, his chin and from there his lips-

You darted your eyes away, looking up (anywhere- at anything but him) as if the ceiling would inspire a wonderful excuse to rid you of this terrible situation. The words that left your mouth couldn't be further from your wishes.

"Oh my god, is that mistletoe?" You looked at Peter, turned magenta, and began to pray for the ground to swallow you whole.

Peter regarded you carefully, "It looks like we're going to have to kiss," he shrugged, grinning playfully at you all the same, "sorry, I don't make the rules."

A moment of hesitation passed between you, you standing there- awe-struck-, just staring in utter disbelief at the boy standing before you. He gave you another boyish grin- oh that smile- and crashed his lips into yours. You relaxed, leaning into him as you wrapped your hands around his neck and his hands wound around your waist. When you pulled away, you just laughed and kissed again.

"Y/N?" You looked up from your laptop to see your English teacher standing over you. You cursed to yourself as wherever that sentence was going was long gone. You tried a civil smile; it came out sour.

If your teacher noticed, they didn't acknowledge it.

"I was wondering if you could not only help me but the school as a whole," they perched on the bench next to you, "and maybe even yourself. I'm sure you're aware our school community is operated by the student body and yet I have noticed one integral missing part to our society: a school newspaper!" Your teacher made a gesture as if this was the greatest news you were ever going to hear in your life and even when your enthusiasm inevitably failed to match their's, they continued undeterred. "You're probably wondering what any of this has to do with you. The fact is, we want our most talented writer on the job and it would seem a tragedy if we ignored you. At the moment it would just be you and the photographer working together to publish a weekly newspaper, however there's no reason that with some work you couldn’t have a whole team of writers behind you in the future." They gave you one, last trying smile to win you over, "What do you say?"

"I have to decline." you said, turning back to your laptop.

"What? Why? I thought you wanted to be a writer?" Your teacher was somehow still surprised despite your obvious disinterest the whole time they were talking.

"I want to be an author, not a journalist. I write stories, not articles."

"But journalists do write stories! Only they're happening in real life rather than in your head. Even if not for the writing, do it for your CV. You'll have a specific extra curricular to what you want to do and I'll give you extra credit." Your teacher raised their eyebrows, tentatively watching you for some sort of response to their offer.

You had to admit, Chief Writer and Editor of the school newspaper would look pretty cool.

You sighed and closed your laptop. "So, who's my co-worker?"

-

Weaving through the corridors, you made your way to the art room. You had never liked school: it killed artists. You had to stifle a laugh at the irony, there was always a home in hell.

As much as you didn't want to, you couldn't help but be pulled down by a wave of nostalgia. The walls had always been a prison but now? Now you could look at the trophies and the esteemed alumni that littered the photo frames and cabinets and believe that maybe, just maybe you could be up there too one day.

You had to shake your head. It was just a stupid school newspaper.

With your laptop folded under your arm, you pushed the art room door open with your hip and was hit by that familiar smell of whatever materials they had been using that day. It smelt like unreined imagination, forever refreshing after being surrounded by everyone's overworked personalities as if they had walked straight out of some horrendous book.

You turned to find two pairs of eyes glued to you and very quickly realised that you had barged in and interrupted their conversation.

"Oh! I'll, uhm, just be-" you jutted your thumb in the direction of the door so you didn't have to finish your sentence.

"Wait!" Your art teacher exclaimed, "That was perfect timing actually, Y/N, I had just finished explaining to Peter what our plan is. I'm sure you know Peter?" The boy's face went straight pass red and into magenta at the mention of his name.

Your stomach dropped; you couldn't believe your luck. Of course you knew Peter- everyone did after the whole Peter-knows-Spiderman incident... and suddenly you had an interesting story.

You extended your hand to him, "My name's Y/N. I guess you're my new coworker?"

"So it seems." He smiled, shaking you on it.

"I was just telling Peter about the big game on Friday, perhaps your first project together?" You tried a smile. You always avoided games but you sensed you wouldn’t be able to escape this one.

"Sure, that sounds great!" You glanced at your watch and cursed, "I better get going now or I'll be dead if I'm late home again. Thanks again for organising this and thinking of me." You added before turning to the door.

"I'm going that way." You turned and looked at Peter; you weren't sure who was more surprised by his outburst. "I mean, we can talk about the newspaper and... stuff?"

You smiled at him and held open the door.

-

It didn't take you long to realise that Peter wasn't the sort to lie. Besides, it made sense that he would have at least seen Spiderman at that Stark internship.

Maybe this was actually going to work.

"Well, this is my stop." You grinned, looking between Peter and your house. You liked him, which was saying a lot. You didn't have the patience for most of the kids at school... but Peter? Peter- Peter was different. You mentally rolled your eyes at yourself for being so cliché.

He was though, you couldn't deny that much, he was smart and kind and funny- you were in stitches the whole way home- and your heart couldn't help but do the thing whenever he looked at you and laughed and the skin around his eyes crinkled.

"I almost forgot!" You said, jolting yourself out of your thoughts, "We should probably meet before the game, how about tomorrow after school at the coffee shop around the corner?" It was your turn to go red,"I mean, to talk about the newspaper and... stuff?"

Peter laughed. You already loved his laugh.

"Sure. I have a feeling this is the start of quite a partnership."

From your top step you mimed tipping your hat to him, "Well, goodnight partner."

"And goodnight to you too, partner." Peter said with a flourished bow.

You both laughed, even if yours was tinged with melancholy because you knew you were going to have to turn away.