Peter didn't sleep all night.
He lay on his narrow single bed, staring at the ceiling, his mind replaying the images of the night—Gwen flipping in through the window, blocking the space between him and the Lizard; Gwen using those seemingly slender arms to parry the monster's full-force blow; Gwen riding on the Lizard's back, shooting white Silk from her wrists, wrapping the monster, over two meters tall, tight as a cocoon.
And finally, she stood before the shattered window, moonlight shining on her face, and said: "I am Gwen, your childhood friend."
Then she leaped out, vanishing into the night like a real spider.
Peter turned over and buried his face in his pillow.
How many years had he known Gwen? Eleven? Twelve? Ever since he could remember, she had lived next door. They went to kindergarten together, elementary school together, middle school together. He watched her grow from a little girl into a young woman, watched her transform from a tomboy playing in the mud into a popular drummer at school.
He had always thought he understood her well.
And yet?
It turned out she had subdued a monster with her bare hands tonight, then jumped down from the third floor and crawled away along the wall.
Peter sat up and rubbed his hair.
"I'm the nerd, aren't I?" he muttered to the dark room, "Why do I feel like I'm more of a nerd than she is?"
Early the next morning, Peter went out with dark circles under his eyes. Just as he walked down the stairs, he saw a familiar figure standing by the maple tree downstairs.
The red and blue hoodie had been replaced by a plain white T-shirt and jeans, her blonde hair tied into a simple ponytail, a hint of a guilty smile on her face.
"Morning, Peter."
Peter stood in place, staring at her for three seconds.
"How long have you been standing here?"
"Not long." Gwen shrugged, "I was thinking we could walk together today, there are some things... I want to explain to you."
Peter was silent for a few seconds, then nodded.
The two walked side by side toward school. There weren't many people on the street in the early morning, and sunlight filtered through the gaps in the leaves, casting dappled light and shadows on the ground. Everything was so normal, so normal that it seemed as if nothing had happened last night.
But it really had happened last night.
"So..." Peter spoke first, his voice a bit strained, "You mean you were injected with some kind of serum, and then you got superpowers?"
Gwen nodded: "Yes."
"What serum? Who injected you?"
"Someone named 'Silk'," Gwen said, "She has spider abilities like me, but she's already had them for three years. She said she's been looking for others like her, couldn't find any, so she... made them herself."
Peter frowned: "Made them herself? Treating you like a test subject?"
"Yeah."
"That's too much." Peter's voice carried a trace of anger, "How could she do that? Injecting people with unknown drugs, this—"
"Peter." Gwen interrupted him, smiling softly, "I'm fine."
Peter looked at her, opened his mouth, and finally sighed.
"I thought you got bitten by a spider," he said, his tone carrying a hint of helplessness, "Isn't that how it's drawn in comics? Get bitten by a radioactive spider, and then you get superpowers."
Gwen made a wry face: "I wish it had been a spider bite. At least then, I'd be 'the chosen one' or something. The way it is now... I'm just a test subject."
"Don't say that." Peter stopped, looking at her seriously, "Gwen, you're amazing. You defeated the Lizard all by yourself last night and saved my life. Whether you're a test subject or not doesn't matter."
Gwen was stunned for a moment, then lowered her head, her earlobes turning slightly red.
"Thanks, Peter."
The two continued walking forward. After a while, Gwen suddenly asked: "By the way, how did you find out it was me? I was covered up so thoroughly."
Peter pushed up his glasses, his tone calm: "Your voice. Even though you lowered it, I've known you for over a decade, I knew it the moment I heard it. And your figure—"
"Cough, cough, cough—" Gwen choked on her own saliva, her face turning bright red, "Fi-, figure?!"
Peter was startled by her intense reaction and quickly explained: "I didn't mean it like that! I meant your build! Even though your hoodie was loose, I've been watching you for over a decade—the way you walk, your posture, and even the height of that ponytail—"
The more he spoke, the more he felt something was wrong; his voice grew quieter, and finally, he lowered his head, his own ears turning red.
The two walked in silence for a few steps.
"...Quite a keen observation," Gwen whispered.
Peter kept his head down, pushed up his glasses, and said nothing.
After walking a bit further, Peter suddenly remembered something and looked up: "By the way, that Silk of yours—you mean, it's produced from within your own body? Not a launcher?"
Gwen nodded: "Yeah, it seems like it just shoots out inadvertently. When I want it to come out, it comes out."
"Can you let me see it?"
Gwen looked around; there weren't many people on the street at the moment, so she pulled up her sleeve to expose her wrist. She focused, felt a slight warmth in her wrist, and a thin white thread shot out, sticking to the nearby utility pole.
Peter leaned in to look, his eyes shining impressively. He reached out and gently pulled the Silk thread, feeling its toughness and elasticity.
"It's amazing," he murmured, "It's stronger than any synthetic material. Look at this structure, under a microscope, you'd definitely be able to see complex molecular arrangements—wait, does it hurt? When it shoots out?"
"It doesn't hurt." Gwen retracted the Silk, "It just feels a bit warm."
Peter nodded thoughtfully, then suddenly looked up, staring at her with burning intensity.
"Gwen, you need a real suit."
"...Huh?"
"You're wearing a hoodie right now, it's too amateur." Peter pushed up his glasses, entering his familiar academic mode, "A hoodie isn't form-fitting; it will hinder your movement. Plus, it has no protective function. If you encounter weapons like knives or guns, you'll get hurt. And also—"
"Wait, wait, wait." Gwen interrupted him, crossing her arms over her chest, "Spandex or anything like that, I'm not considering it."
Peter was stunned: "Why?"
Gwen's face turned red again: "It's just... not an option. It's too embarrassing."
Peter looked at her for a few seconds, then suddenly smiled. The smile was faint, but Gwen had never seen him smile like that—not the usual timid smile, afraid of bothering anyone, but a genuine, heartfelt smile.
"I didn't say I wanted to make a spandex suit." He said, "I meant, I'll help you find materials to make a suit. We can design it to be more comfortable, looser, but with protective functions."
Gwen blinked: "You can do that?"
"I can learn." Peter pushed up his glasses, "You saved my life last night; I have to do something."
Gwen looked at him, a strange feeling surging in her heart.
This was Peter Parker. Even without superpowers, that innate desire to help others in his bones had never changed.
"Thank you, Peter." She said softly.
Peter shook his head, then suddenly remembered something: "By the way, that Silk... she said she wanted you to join her?"
Gwen nodded.
"You refused?"
"Yeah."
Peter was silent for a few seconds, then said softly: "That's good."
He didn't say why it was "good," but Gwen understood.
The two continued walking toward school. When they were almost at the school gate, Gwen suddenly stopped.
"Peter."
"Hmm?"
"Are you afraid of me?"
Peter turned around and looked at her. In the sunlight, there was something in her blue-gray eyes he had never seen before—not fear, not unease, but a cautious anticipation, as if waiting for an answer.
He thought for a moment and said seriously: "I was indeed afraid last night. But not of you, I was afraid of that Lizard. As for you..."
He paused and pushed up his glasses.
"You are the Gwen I've known for over a decade. You would stand up to help me when I was being bullied, and you would rush in to save me when I was in danger. Why would I be afraid of you?"
Gwen looked at him and suddenly smiled.
That smile was brighter than the sunlight.
"Let's go," she said, "We're going to be late."
Gwen didn't hear a word during the morning class.
It wasn't because she was thinking about last night—she had already explained last night's events to Peter, and the weight in her heart had been lifted.
She was thinking about something else.
Peter said he would help her find materials to make a suit.
Peter said "We can design it to be more comfortable."
Peter said "You saved my life; I have to do something."
Gwen rested her chin on her hand, staring at the blackboard, but her mind was full of the image of Peter standing in the moonlight last night. His glasses were crooked to one side, his face covered in sweat and tear tracks, yet he still stood there looking at her, asking her "Who exactly are you?"
And this morning, the expression on his face when he said "You are the Gwen I've known for over a decade."
Very serious.
So serious that it made her heart flutter a little.
"Gwen."
Her back was poked with a pen.
Gwen came back to her senses and turned her head slightly. From the back row came Peter's lowered voice: "The teacher is looking at you."
Gwen suddenly looked up, meeting the gaze of the English teacher, Mrs. Winterhalter. The old lady pushed up her glasses and looked at her over the rims.
"Gwen, you've been daydreaming again today."
"... I'm sorry. "
Mrs. Winterhalter sighed and continued her lecture.
Gwen lowered her head, her ears burning.
The bell rang, and just as Gwen was about to lay her head on the desk for a nap, Mary Jane came running over.
" Gwen! Let's go, to the music room! "
" Now? "
" It's lunch break! " Mary Jane pulled her up. " You didn't come to practice drums yesterday, so you have to make up for it today! "
Gwen was dragged along, glancing back at Peter.
Peter was looking down at a book, but Gwen noticed his gaze wasn't actually on the pages; he was tilting his head slightly, glancing over here from the corner of his eye.
Realizing Gwen was looking at him, Peter quickly buried his head lower, his ears turning red.
Gwen couldn't help but smile.
In the music room, Glory and Betty had already arrived.
Mary Jane pushed Gwen behind the drum kit and picked up her guitar.
" We practiced the first half of the new song yesterday; today we'll go through the second half. " She said, beginning to strum.
Gwen picked up the drumsticks, took a deep breath, and struck.
The beat poured out.
But as she played, she realized something was wrong.
Her tempo was getting faster.
It wasn't intentional; it was an instinctive reaction—her reflexes had quickened, her coordination had improved, and she could hear subtle changes in the beat and control her force more precisely.
These were good things when fighting, but when playing the drums—
" Stop, stop, stop! " Mary Jane called out, looking at her with a confused expression.
" Gwen, what's going on with you today? The tempo is twice as fast! "
Gwen looked down at the drumsticks in her hands, not knowing what to say.
" Did something upset you? " Betty leaned in.
" You didn't come to practice yesterday; what happened? "
" It's nothing... " Gwen said quietly.
" Just... I've been a bit restless lately. "
Mary Jane stared at her for a few seconds, then put down her guitar and sat beside her.
" Gwen, " she said seriously. " We're friends, right? "
Gwen nodded.
" Then you should tell us if something is wrong. " Mary Jane said.
" You haven't been yourself these past few days. You're distracted in class, absent-minded during practice, and you suddenly ran off yesterday—what's actually going on with you? "
Gwen looked into Mary Jane's sincere eyes, then at the concerned expressions of Betty and Glory, and a complex surge of emotions welled up in her heart.
She wanted to tell them.
She wanted to tell them what had happened to her, wanted to tell them about the person named Silk who had injected her with some inexplicable drug, and wanted to tell them that she could now subdue monsters with her bare hands.
But she couldn't.
It wasn't that she didn't trust them, but that this was too dangerous.
Silk was still watching her from the shadows, the Japanese Gang was still active, and there was that fleeting black shadow on the ceiling last night—she couldn't let her friends get involved in these things.
" It's nothing. " she finally said, forcing a smile.
" I'm just a bit tired lately. Some things at home. "
Mary Jane looked at her for a moment, then sighed.
" Alright, if you don't want to talk about it, that's fine. "
She stood up.
" But remember, we are your friends. No matter what happens, you can come to us. "
Gwen nodded, feeling a bit of ache in her heart.
After school in the afternoon, Gwen and Peter walked home together.
The two walked in silence for a while, then Peter suddenly spoke: " When you were practicing drums today, were you having trouble controlling your strength? "
Gwen looked at him in surprise: " How did you know? "
" A guess. " Peter pushed up his glasses.
" You just acquired your powers, so you definitely aren't skilled at controlling your body yet. "
" Drumming requires precise force and rhythm control, which just happened to expose your problem. "
Gwen was silent for a few seconds: " You're right. I almost broke the drum today. "
" It takes practice. " Peter said.
" The more proficient you become at controlling your abilities, the less your daily life will be affected. "
Gwen sighed: " I know. But how do I practice? I can't exactly practice wall-climbing at home, can I? "
Peter thought for a moment: " I'll help you figure something out. "
The two arrived at Gwen's doorstep, and Gwen stopped.
" Peter. "
" Hmm? "
" Thank you. "
Peter looked at her and revealed that faint smile again.
" It's nothing, we're childhood friends, after all. "
Gwen pushed the door open and entered; Helen was in the kitchen preparing dinner.
Seeing her daughter return, she poked her head out: " You're back? Why so early today? "
" I came straight back after school. " Gwen put down her schoolbag.
" Where's Dad? "
" On duty, he won't be back for dinner tonight. " Helen wiped her hands and walked out.
" Are you hungry? It'll be a little while longer. "
" Not hungry. " Gwen shook her head, then suddenly remembered something.
" Mom, is that old sewing machine in my room still usable? "
Helen paused for a moment: " Sewing machine? It should still work, the one your grandmother left behind? Why, do you want to learn tailoring? "
" Um... sort of. " Gwen said vaguely.
" Make some small things. "
Helen laughed: " Sure, I'll help you get it out later. "
After dinner, Gwen returned to her room and sat by the window, lost in thought.
The moonlight shone in quietly, exactly the same as last night.
But today, there was no black shadow hanging upside down from the ceiling.
She remembered what Silk had said last night— " You will change your mind. "
She wouldn't. Gwen said to herself.
She would never become that kind of person.
Suddenly, there was a light tapping sound from outside the window.
Gwen turned her head and saw someone clinging to the window.
She almost screamed, then saw the face—it was Peter.
He was clinging to the wall outside the window, one hand gripping the window sill, the other knocking on the glass, wearing an expression that said, " I don't even know how I managed to climb up here. "
Gwen quickly opened the window, and Peter climbed in, stumbling a couple of steps before steadying himself.
" You, how did you get up here? " Gwen asked in a hushed voice.
" I climbed. " Peter patted the dust off himself.
" The wall outside your window is quite easy to climb; there are a lot of protrusions. "
Gwen looked at him speechlessly: " Do you realize this is the third floor? "
" I know. " Peter pushed up his glasses and pulled a small notebook from his pocket.
" But I have an urgent matter to discuss with you. "
" What is it? "
" Materials for your suit. " Peter opened the notebook, which was densely packed with writing.
" I looked up a lot of information this afternoon and found a type of fabric that is fireproof, waterproof, cut-resistant, and has a certain degree of elasticity. "
" While it's not as good as a real bulletproof vest, it's much better than a hoodie. "
Gwen leaned in to look; the notebook had some sketches drawn in it, marked with various data points.
She didn't quite understand it, but Peter's serious demeanor made her heart feel warm.
" And this, " Peter flipped to another page.
" I was thinking about what material to use for your mask. "
" Sunglasses won't work; they fall off too easily and limit your field of vision. "
" It's best to use something like— "
" Peter. " Gwen interrupted him.
Peter looked up.
Gwen looked at him and suddenly smiled.
" Thank you. "
Peter paused, and his ears turned red again.
" It's, it's nothing. " He lowered his head.
" You saved my life; I have to do something. "
The room was quiet for a few seconds.
The sound of distant cars came from outside the window, and there was a faint sound of a television from the next room.
The moonlight shone quietly on the two of them, casting faint shadows on the floor.
" Peter, " Gwen asked suddenly. " Can you fly? "
" What? "
" I mean... were you scared when you climbed to the third floor just now? "
Peter thought for a moment: " I was. But I was thinking about needing to see you, so I climbed. "
Gwen looked at him, and a strange feeling welled up in her heart.
This boy had climbed three stories just to bring her a few pages of notes.
" Don't do that again. " She said.
" It's too dangerous. Just call me if you need something. "
Peter nodded, then turned to prepare to leave through the window.
" Wait! " Gwen called out to him.
" How are you planning to get down? "
" Climb down, obviously. "
" Can't you just use the door? "
Peter stopped and turned back to look at her.
The two looked at each other for two seconds, then both burst out laughing.
In the end, Peter did leave through the front door.
Gwen saw him to the entrance, watching him walk down the stairs and disappear around the corner.
She returned to her room, picked up the notebook, and flipped through it page by page.
Peter's sketches were rough, but every detail was clearly labeled.
Material choices, design concepts, and even alternative options.
She suddenly felt that having a childhood friend like this was actually quite nice.
The moon outside the window had become a little rounder.
Gwen carefully put the notebook away and lay back on the bed.
Tomorrow, she would go to practice controlling her powers.
The day after, she would discuss the suit design with Peter.
There was also Silk, the Japanese Gang, and the black shadow that had flashed across the ceiling last night—
There were still many things to do.
But at least for now, she wasn't alone.
Gwen closed her eyes, her lips curling slightly.
In the darkness, she heard her own heartbeat, steady and strong.
The sound was like a drumbeat, one after another, striking out a rhythm that belonged to her.