[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/LAAIvXk.jpg[/img][/center]

[center][b]Two Months Ago...[/b][/center]

I thought this would be harder. And, sure, when I first began I had some trouble. But, really, that was all from nerves. I mean, you find yourself face-to-barrel with a .45 semi-automatic for the first time in your life, and you're going to have some performance issues. But now, now that I had been busting up the general scum of the Earth on a regular basis it wasn't so hard. In fact, it was almost easy.

And why wouldn't it be easy? I have superpowers, after all. No bragging intended, but I'm pretty damn spectacular. Muggers, robbers, whatever. They're just not a challenge. Even the other day when there were almost ten guys coming at me - and these were big, burly men - I took care of them lickity-split. Benefits of having a nifty little, omni-directional, early warning system in my head; nobody could touch me. 

I knew that I shouldn't complain. I must have been crazy to. Maybe being bitten by a genetically engineered spider makes one crazy. I mean, I'd have to be genuinely messed up in the brain to get upset that fighting crime was [i]too[/i] easy. It's not like I [i]wanted[/i] someone to hurt me, or to be more of a danger than they already were. Or maybe I did. I didn't know [i]what[/i] I wanted. I just knew that when I was on patrol, and I spotted a crime my blood got pumping and an adrenaline rush kicked in, and then everything would just end before it even really had a chance to start. It was boring. I would get so pumped up, so excited, and then it was just... over. It was frustrating, and annoying, and... and... anti-climatic! That was the word; anti-climatic. I knew it was ridiculous to feel that way, but I just couldn't help it. I needed a challenge. Anything, I didn't care what. I just needed to face something a little more difficult than the thugs I'd encountered so far. 

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[b]Present Day
September 2nd, 2013. 7:38 am
Queens, New York[/b][/center]

I thought this would be easier, I really did. Just goes to show how much of a fool Peter Parker is. I just got so caught up in the routine of being Spider-Man that I didn't stop to consider how difficult this would be.

I stood in front of Midtown High School with my hands in my pocket and my backpack slung across my shoulder. I was tired, having only gotten a few hours of sleep the night before. My patrol lasted longer than I had expected; apparently during the last night of August criminals liked to come out in swarms, committing one burglary after one mugging after another. Or, maybe they all just knew that my first day of school started today. If they did it was a brilliant strategy. Either way, I wasn't prepared for school to start back up. 

Harry Osborn, my best friend and the only person in the world aware of my double-life, walked beside me as we headed toward the school's entrance. I saw him eyeing me strangely out the corner of my eye. I was about to ask him what the problem was when he spoke. 

"Hey, man, you alright? You look a little... sickly."

"I'm fine," I said. Evidently I wasn't too convincing as I could still see him casting glances at me, concern in his eyes. 

"Really, I'm good." I lowered my voice and looked around to make sure nobody was within listening distance. "I was just out late last night doing you-know-what. I had already skipped lunch before going out, and patrol took so long that I missed dinner, too."

We approached our lockers, which were only a few feet away from each other, and stopped. 

"By the time I got back home it was so late, and I was so tired that I just went straight to bed. And, to top it all off, I forgot to set my alarm so I was late getting up and didn't have time for breakfast. Aunt May wasn't too happy with me."

"How'd she handle you coming home so late?" Harry asked. 

"She didn't know I was gone. Snuck out the window again. As far as she was concerned I was up in my room reading before crashing early. Which means she thought I had [i]over[/i]slept, and was why she was so upset with me."

"Oh."

We started to unpack our bags, loading up our lockers with all the notebooks, folders, textbooks, and supplies we would need for the first semester. I had ended up having to take an extra history course this year as all the 'fun' electives were full. Probably shouldn't have taken all the acting classes my Freshman year; now I'll be swamped with homework, which would only interfere with my patrol time. 

After a few moments of silence, Harry piped back up with his new favorite question.

"So you are absolutely, one hundred percent okay?"

I sighed. Sometimes Harry fixated on one topic for too long. "Yes, Harry, I'm completely fine. Just a little hungry. You know how I am on an empty stomach. I'll be fine by lunch. Stop worrying." 

It was true. Ever since I was bitten and my body underwent some changes I felt really weak when I went without food for extended periods of time; weaker than was normal for just a mild case of an empty stomach. I had theorized a couple months back that I likely had an increased metabolism now, which meant my body processed things faster and I would need to eat on a more frequent basis. I might have felt weak at the moment, but as soon as I ate something I'd be more than okay.

Harry nodded. "Okay. Well, I'm glad you're alright 'cause you're gonna need to be to handle this." He pointed to the left, over my shoulder.

"Peter Parker!" The voice was loud. And angry. 

I winced and spun around, preparing for the worst.

Gwen Stacy, my other best friend, stormed towards me, her eyes were daggers; sharp and piercing. She was my height, maybe an inch shorter, with blonde hair which had grown longer since the last time I had seen her, now nearly reaching half-way down her back. And that was the problem; it had been over two weeks since I had physically seen her, and almost as long since we had spoken. She walked right up to me, not stopping until our faces were only a few inches apart. I saw Harry take a few steps back, distancing himself from me.

"Eight years! Eight years we've been friends!" Gwen shouted loud enough that it drew the attention of others in the hallway. "Eight years and suddenly you just, what, forget about me? We live a few houses down from each other, Peter, but you couldn't bother to at least stop by and say hello? Almost three weeks and you didn't once stop by. Not once. It's been ten days since you've even bothered to return a call or respond to my texts. Are you avoiding me, or did you just wake up three weeks ago and decide to be a jerk?"

I could see tears welling up in her eyes behind her glasses, and her voice started to waver. She was hurt and angry, and I couldn't exactly blame her. Ever since we had first become friends, we hadn't spent more than a few days apart, and only then when we were separated by camp or she was visiting a relative, after all we lived on the same street and could hang out at any time. And once we had gotten old enough to have our own computers and cellphones, we had never gone a full day without being in contact. 

But ever since I had become a vigilante and adopted the Spider-Man persona I had grown distant. Not on purpose, of course, but I had absorbed myself almost fully into my crime-fighting lifestyle. If Harry didn't know about my secret, if he wasn't the only person I could discuss my other life with, I doubt I would have spent as much time with him over the Summer as I had. I hated to admit it, and it made me sound like a bad friend, but it was true. I had become so obsessed in atoning for the sin of Uncle Ben's death that I had neglected Gwen; one of the few people in this world that I truly cared about and knew cared about me. And I didn't even completely realize that until I had come face-to-face with her. I was pretty sure that was [i]not[/i] what Uncle Ben had meant when he told me with his dying words to live an honest and responsible life. I would definitely need to start balancing my responsibilities to this city with my responsibilities as a friend.

"Gwen, I'm so sorry. I know that probably doesn't mean much coming from me, but I am. I'm so sorry. I was an ass. [i]Am[/i] an ass. I just..." I struggled for a moment to come up with an excuse that didn't involve me swinging through Manhattan in bright tights. "I was just being pitiful and wallowing in self-misery. After my uncle died I just couldn't take it. I thought I could pull myself together, and for a while I did, but during the Summer it all just hit me again. I know that doesn't excuse my behavior. I was a horrible friend to you, and I shouldn't have ignored you. I don't expect you to forgive me, but I'll make it up to you. I will."

I hated lying to her, and using Uncle Ben's death as an excuse made my stomach churn. It was a despicable thing to do, but I couldn't tell her the truth. I didn't know how she would react to the knowledge that I risk my life everyday dressed in spandex, but I doubted it would be good.

As I lied right to Gwen's face, I could see her eyes soften, which only made me more disgusted with myself. There she was, already showing me sympathy, and I was relieved she had believed me. This was [i]not[/i] what I had intended when I started this Spider-Man stuff. 

"You should have called." Was all Gwen said, in a near whisper, before she walked off.

Even while my heart crumbled at the pain I had caused my friend, I breathed a sigh of relief because I knew she would forgive me. She'd probably give me a hard time over the next few days, but I knew by this time next month we'd be back to normal. Assuming I was able to properly balance my two lives in time.

This [i]definitely[/i] was not as easy as I had thought it would be.