I was sitting outside of the principal's office, my back pressed against the cold wall. Across from me sat Flash and his goons. None of us looked at each other at first; the air was heavy with silence.
One of Flash's lackeys finally broke it. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and said,
"Yo, Peter, why didn't you ever fight back? I mean, we bullied you a lot, made fun of you, messed with you."
Another chimed in, shaking his head. "Yeah, man. Why now, of all times?"
I sighed, drew in a deep breath, and let it out slowly. Then I lifted my eyes to them.
"Guys, look around. We're fifteen, maybe sixteen. I don't even know which grade you guys are in anymore. But bullying me? Calling me names? Playing dumb pranks?"
I scoffed lightly and shook my head.
"It's getting childish. Everyone is growing up, chasing their dreams, preparing for the adult world. And yet, here you guys are, still taking all of this as a joke."
They shifted uneasily in their seats, avoiding my eyes.
"I don't know if your families are rich or not," I went on, my tone sharper, "but what if one day you had to become the adult in the house? What then?"
The jocks looked down, embarrassed. The weight of my words seemed to hang in the hallway.
"Guys, he's right," one of them muttered.
Flash's head snapped toward him. "Wait—you're not serious, are you?" he asked in disbelief.
"Quit it, Flash," the boy said firmly. He lifted his head, his eyes heavy with something more real than arrogance.
"Peter is right. I've got three sisters and a mom. My dad bailed on us when he found out my mom was having triplets. Just up and left. Mom raised me and my sisters on her own. Do you know how hard that is?"
His fists tightened on his knees.
"I only got noticed because of football. Midtown gave me a full scholarship to play and study here. I need that scholarship, Flash."
Another of Flash's crew spoke up, his voice quieter but steady.
"He's not lying. And me? My stepmom hates me. My dad married the wrong woman, and she stole everything from him—his money, his focus, his care. Midtown only let me in because of a charity program for kids in need of education. Otherwise, I'd be nowhere."
I leaned back against the wall, stunned. For the first time, I realized they weren't all bad—they were just misguided.
I let out a soft chuckle, shaking my head at the irony, and then leaned forward again.
"Tell you what," I said, my voice gentler now. "If you guys ever need help raising your grades, come to me. I'll tutor you. Free of charge."
They stared at me in disbelief, their mouths slightly open.
"After everything we've done to you, you'd still help us? Why?" one of them asked.
I smiled faintly. "Because I may be smart, but I also know when it's time to let go of the past and keep moving forward."
The weight in the hallway shifted. They understood. Slowly, one by one, they extended their hands.
"Name's Jordan Basilik, Peter."
"I'm Tom Hurman."
"Gilder McDuckin."
I stood up and shook each of their hands firmly. There was peace in the gesture. Flash, on the other hand, just scoffed and looked away, arms crossed, too proud to admit anything.
Minutes later, the office doors opened, and our parents began arriving. One by one, they got scolded. For me, it was Aunt May who came.
Funny thing is, I remembered that in the past, it was always Uncle Ben who showed up whenever I got sent to the principal's office.
As I sat there, waiting, my thoughts drifted. A strange question lingered at the back of my mind. Did making these small changes in my rebirth shift the timeline of the quantum multiverse?
I remembered Doctor Strange once teaching me, back in my past life, the tiniest details about the multiverse.
Infinite universes, infinite possibilities.
In one of them, Strange and I had stumbled upon a reality where things were different—where I was married to Black Cat, Felicia Hardy.
We had a daughter together.
In that world, Felicia had accepted me completely—as both Peter Parker and Spider-Man. I was happy there, in a way.
Happy to see that version of me live a normal life, hand in hand with Felicia, until they both grew old and turned to dust in the natural order of things.
For just a moment, I held on to that memory. That possibility. That truth.
But for now,
Back to when Aunt May walked in, looking beautiful as always. The jocks nearly dropped their jaws, their eyes widening like cartoon characters. They all glanced at me with that classic dude… reaction.
"Dude…" one of them muttered, dragging the word out.
"I stand corrected," another replied quickly. "Pete, is that your mom? She's fine as hell, bro!"
"Yeah, man, you're lucky!" another chimed in with a grin.
I rolled my eyes, but honestly…no offense, they weren't wrong. Aunt May was a young and beautiful woman. If I was right, she'd just turned forty in 2013. Uncle Ben was forty-three.
The principal called me in, and I followed Aunt May into his office. She sat down beside me, graceful as always.
"Greetings, Ms. Parker," the principal said, his voice trying to sound professional but his eyes lingering a little too long on her beauty.
He cleared his throat. "I called you in today to inform you that your nephew, Peter Parker, caused trouble in the cafeteria."
Aunt May turned to me slowly, her tone sharpening like a commander about to pass judgment. "Care to explain to me, young man?"
Yup. That tone. The funeral bells were ringing in my head already. Uncle Ben once told me: never make a woman angry, especially one you care about.
But for Aunt May? I couldn't lie. I had to fess up.
"Well, ummm…their girlfriends were bullying my friend Gwen Stacy. So, I kinda got a little itty-bitty frustrated and…stood up for her?"
The end of my explanation came out with a high-pitched note, like I was asking a question instead of giving an answer. Aunt May was not buying it.
"Oh really? Care to explain to me again why you got into a fight, Peter?"
"It was four against one, Aunt May!" I argued, throwing my hands up.
The principal jumped in, shaking his head. "We do not tolerate violence, Mr. Parker. Honestly, you're our brightest student, and now you're going down the path of gangsterism like those bla—"
I froze. Did this man just…? Oh, this racist principal. Spouting that nonsense.
Maybe I could flip this on him.
"I see," I cut in sharply. "So that makes it a hate crime, principal."
"Eh?" His face twitched. Gotcha, old man.
"Yes. A hate crime. A victim of bullying finally stands up to four attackers, and instead of supporting him, the principal sides with the bullies. Sounds like blame-shifting the victim to me."
His face paled as I leaned in with my full karma package combo. Time for the finishing blow.
"Should I sue Midtown High for negligence? Or maybe I should go to the Daily Bugle instead. I'm sure the press would love to hear about your little secret with a certain cheerleader."
That did it. His skin went ghost-white. He stammered, then quickly offered an alternative solution.
I smirked and gave him my suggestion. "Simple. The bullies do community service during prom and continue until the end of the school year. I'll chip in for two days only."
He sighed in relief and accepted the terms. Aunt May and I stood, leaving the office.
"You're grounded for a week after your field trip to Oscorp, young man," Aunt May said firmly as we walked down the hallway. Her disappointment stung more than any punishment. I didn't argue. I'd already caused enough trouble.
As we turned the corner, Gwen came running toward me, her eyes full of worry. She threw her arms around me without hesitation.
"Petey! Are you hurt? Any bruises? What did the principal say?" Her words tumbled out in a rush as she grabbed my hands, checking for marks.
Aunt May raised an eyebrow, watching carefully. This was her first time meeting Gwen.
"Ah, Gwen, this is my Aunt, May Parker," I said.
Gwen turned, flustered but polite. "It's so nice to meet you, Mrs. Parker."
"Please, dearie," Aunt May said warmly, "call me May. Or Aunt May, if you prefer."
Gwen smiled. "Then Aunt May it is."
The two of them fell into easy conversation, girl-to-girl talk. I stood there, awkward, realizing I had somehow become the third wheel in my own story.
Since Gwen had missed the bus on purpose to wait for me, Aunt May offered to give her a ride home. Gwen accepted happily.
"Thanks for the ride, Aunt May," Gwen said cheerfully as she got out of the car.
"You're welcome, dear. Take care of yourself," Aunt May replied.
Gwen waved goodbye and disappeared into her apartment building. As Aunt May drove us home, she glanced at me with a knowing smile.
"What a nice girl, Peter. I could see the worry in her eyes. She cares for you deeply."
I looked out the window, unable to hold back the smile that spread across my face. Then, without thinking, I let it slip out.
"She's my everything, Aunt May…"
Aunt May nearly slammed the car to a full stop, the tires squealing as we almost kissed the garage door. She turned to me with the widest grin I'd ever seen on her face.
"Peter, you sly dog…"
"Ehehehe…" I chuckled nervously, scratching the back of my head.
Later that night at dinner, Aunt May couldn't hold it in. She told Uncle Ben everything—yes, including the part I accidentally blurted out.
"Hahahaha! Atta boy!" Uncle Ben roared, slapping the table so hard the dishes rattled. "Finally becoming a man, I see!"
He turned to May with a smug grin. "Told you it was the hormones, hahaha!"
"Yes, dear," Aunt May replied, rolling her eyes. "You've only said that about a hundred times since this morning."
Uncle Ben kept laughing, May kept sighing, and honestly? I liked it. I liked how things were now. Just me, Aunt May, and Uncle Ben. No crime, no villains, no chaos—just the three of us, living a simple life.
After finishing dinner, I washed my hands, cleaned my plate, and even did theirs too. Before heading upstairs, I turned back to them. For once, I didn't hold it back.
"Goodnight, Mom. Goodnight, Dad."
I rushed up the stairs and shut my door before either of them could react.
Downstairs, silence fell. Aunt May and Uncle Ben stared at each other, wide-eyed.
"Did that boy just…?" May whispered.
"I must be hearing things," Ben muttered.
"Hit me with a frying pan if I'm dreaming."
Pang!
"OW! What did you do that for, woman?!"
"You said it, dear," May replied, fighting back tears with a smile.
Uncle Ben rubbed his head, then stood and walked over to the fireplace. He picked up a framed photo of my real parents, Richard and Mary Parker. His voice softened.
"Brother… your son Peter has grown into a fine young man. He's got a wonderful friend named Gwen Stacy—who happens to be a girl, by the way. And tonight, he called me Dad, and May, Mom. I hope you can rest in harmonic peace knowing he's loved."
Aunt May walked up and hugged Ben tightly, burying her face into his shoulder.
"He's our boy, Ben. You hear me? He's our boy."
"Yeah," Ben whispered, holding her close.
Meanwhile, in my room, I sat at my desk, sketching out plans and timing for tomorrow's school trip to Oscorp Industries. My pen scratched across the paper with focus and certainty.
Because tomorrow was the day everything would change.
Tomorrow, I would become Spider-Man.
---
Chapter 4 — End.