Still he walks on, briskly and without pause, until he is inside the school's front doors. He's a few hours late; the rest of the students are in fourth period, so he has the hallway to himself. Only then does Peter pause long enough to stare down at his hands, at the spot where his scar used to be, at the places where his wrists were, last night, peppered with bruises — these places that are now pale and smooth and thrumming with muscle that was not there a day ago.
"What's happening to me?" he whispers.
For once, nothing replies.
Peter makes it through one class English — listening to every breath, every gurgle of his classmates ' stomachs, the sniffle of every running nose, turning his head every time someone shifts in the corner of his vision, wincing every time the teacher drags the marker across the whiteboard, and then he decides it's time to get out. He's starting to panic, needs to think, and he's not going to be able to do that with this many people around.
He should just go — leap over the fence like he had planned the day of the hot-dog blowout—but he wants to grab his genetics book from his locker, nd the pit stop ends up costing him. When he slams the locker door behind him after snatching the book, he turns around to find himself face-to-face with a scowling Michelle Jones.
"Hi," she says. "And also, what the hell?"
Her voice is mild. Her grip, when she takes him by the wrist and drags him into the drinking fountain nook by the girls' restroom, is not. " What the hell? " she says again when she has him cornered. "What happened to you last night? I thought you were dead when you didn't show up for class this morning, Ned said he didn't know where you were—how did you go from looking like an extra in a bad zombie flick to walking around here all rosy-cheeked and doe-eyed less than eighteen hours later? Are you even human, Parker?"
"I'm… actually not sure." The truth tastes foreign on Peter's tongue. He looks over Michelle ' s shoulder and see that Ned is standing still amongst the crowd, watching them, but Ned drops his gaze and hurries away as soon as Peter spots him. Peter's stomach drops: if there was one person he might talk to about whatever the hell is going on, it would be Ned. But since Ned clearly still isn' t speaking to him, he needs to get out of here.
He returns his focus to Michelle. "Um," he says. "I'm really sorry I worried you last night, I must have eaten something bad at lunch. I'm all better now, so—"
He tries to move around her. Michelle is quicker than Skip. She steps in his path.
"That was not food poisoning," she says. "You felt like you were having a reactor meltdown, I thought you were going to burst into flames. And what was up with your stepdad? I thought it wasn't possible for you to look any worse, but that was before I saw the look on your face when he opened the door."
Peter's mouth goes dry. His focus snaps inward. He's suddenly aware of how close Michelle is standing.
"Skip's not my stepdad," he says. "He's my foster parent."
Michelle's scowl falters. He's said the wrong thing, revealed more in the evasion than he would have with a flat-out lie. He backtracks.
"I have to go," he says. "I'm gonna be late—"
"Don't BS me, Parker, I know when something is up. So why don't you —"
Inside Peter ' s chest, something breaks. It's like there has been a tiny gate within him, and that gate has been holding back a wild, flailing animal—the ghoul—which has been flinging itself against the hinges in a desperate attempt to escape. It came close with Ned—but now it is fully free.
The ghoul rears its head at Michelle. When it speaks, it speaks with Peter's voice.
"Why is it any of your business?" he snaps. "I'm sorry, but didn't you just introduce yourself to me, like, yesterday? So why do you care so much all of a sudden? And why are you following me around like you're obsessed with me?"
Michelle steps back, hurt clearly written across her face even as she tries to fight it back, to keep her careful, neutral expression.
"I'm not obsessed with you," she says. "I'm just very observant."
Underneath, Peter can already feel shame beginning to bubble. But the ghoul is still in control, because Michelle hasn' t given him enough space. She still has him cornered.
"Well, go observe someone else," he says. "I told you I'm fine, so leave me alone."
Finally, Michelle makes enough room for Peter to hurtle past her.
This time, Peter makes it to the fence. Climbing it takes no effort at all—in fact, he nearly floats to the other side.
When he lands on the other sidegracefully, lightly, like he weighs nothing at all — Peter finally allows himself to think the word that has been clamoring for space in his mind since he woke up this morning, but which he has been too scared, up until then, to allow:
Superpowers.
Heart hammering, mind racing, Peter casts one last glance at the school.
And he disappears into the city.
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