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chapter fifteen:
โ boh โ
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As the boat glided smoothly across the calm Venetian waters, Gwen found herself mesmerized by the expanse of the ocean. She snapped a few pictures, the sun setting in the distance casting a golden glow over the water. She sighed contentedly, letting the breeze rustle her curly brown hair. But she couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. Turning her head slightly, she caught MJ staring at her from across the boat.
Gwen's expression hardened instantly. She narrowed her eyes in a glare before turning away, annoyed by MJ's gaze. It was bad enough they had to be on this trip together. Gwen let out a quiet sigh, trying to ignore the tension between them.
Suddenly, the boat hit a small bump, jostling everyone. Gwen, sitting right on the edge, let out a startled yelp as she lost her balance and tumbled overboard, splashing into the water. The cold hit her instantly, sending a shock through her system.
"Gweny!" Peter gasped, his eyes wide as he scrambled to the side of the boat. He extended his hand toward her as she resurfaced, gasping for breath. She swam quickly toward the boat, shaking her head at the absurdity of it all.
"Take my hand!" Peter urged.
Gwen reached out, grabbing his hand firmly. Peter pulled her up with surprising strength, hoisting her back into the boat. She collapsed onto the wooden deck, drenched and shivering slightly, water dripping everywhere.
"Thank you, Peter," she said gratefully, squeezing the water out of her soaked hair.
Peter nodded, his eyes flickering to her for a moment too long. Gwen noticed the lingering stare, but when she turned to look at him, he quickly glanced away, his face flushing slightly. Gwen couldn't help but smile to herself as she wrung out her hair, amusement playing at the edges of her lips. But Peter's gaze found its way back to her when she wasn't looking, his eyes filled with a quiet admiration.
The boat eventually rolled up in front of their hotel, a quaint but somewhat shabby building nestled among the narrow canals. Gwen was the first to step off the boat, but her shoes slipped on the slick dock, causing her to nearly lose her balance again. Peter, ever vigilant, reached out and caught her by the waist, steadying her.
"Whoa, easy," Peter said, his hands gentle as he held her.
Gwen felt her cheeks warm as she straightened herself. "Thanks... again."
She pulled away, flustered, and made her way toward the entrance of the hotel, following her classmates. As soon as they walked in, she stepped into a shallow puddle of water that had seeped into the lobby. Frowning, she glanced down and then around the room, noticing the somewhat shabby condition of the place.
Mr. Harrington, ever the optimist, clapped his hands together. "Everyone, here we are!"
Gwen raised her eyebrows in disbelief, her patience already wearing thin. "Tell me we're not staying here," she muttered under her breath.
Just then, Flash swaggered inside, taking in the damp surroundings. "This place is sinking," he declared with a smug grin.
Gwen shot him a bored look. "No shit."
Mr. Harrington, clearly trying to maintain some semblance of positivity, laughed awkwardly. "You mean charming. Venice is full of history!"
Gwen rolled her eyes, unimpressed. As she stood there, a strange smell hit her, causing her to scrunch her nose in disgust. "It stinks in here."
Before she could complain further, Dr. Dell chimed in. "Okay, everybody, drop your bags off. We're meeting at the Da Vinci Museum at 3. Let's go!"
Gwen sighed heavily and trudged up the stairs with her bags, her mood quickly souring.
When Gwen finally reached her room, she threw her bag on the bed with a huff, ready to decompress from the chaotic boat ride. But just as she began to unpack, the door creaked open, and MJ walked in, her bag slung over her shoulder.
Gwen groaned aloud, throwing her head back in exasperation. "No way. No way am I staying in the same room as you."
MJ shot her a withering look. "Trust me, I'm not thrilled about it either."
Before Gwen could argue, MJ threw her bag down on the opposite bed, making it clear she wasn't going anywhere. Gwen folded her arms, glaring at her for a moment before the frustration boiled over. "That's it," she muttered. "We're getting this changed."
Both girls marched downstairs, finding Mr. Harrington and Dr. Dell at the reception desk, excitedly chatting about the day's itinerary. Gwen cleared her throat loudly, and both teachers turned to her.
"Uh, Mr. Harrington, Dr. Dell? There's been a mistake," Gwen began, her voice dripping with impatience. "I can't share a room with MJ."
MJ nodded in agreement. "Yeah, me neither. This isn't going to work."
Mr. Harrington blinked, taken aback by the sudden complaints. "Well, uh, you two used to be friends, right? I'm sure you can handle one little trip together."
Dr. Dell nodded enthusiastically. "Come on, you two. Think of this as a chance to reconnect! You've got history."
Gwen scoffed. "History? That's ancient history. We're not exactly best friends anymore."
But neither teacher seemed convinced. Mr. Harrington waved their concerns away with a smile. "I'm sure you'll work it out. You're both mature, responsible young ladies. You can deal with this."
"Besides," Dr. Dell added, "it's only for a few nights. You'll barely be in the room anyway!"
Gwen clenched her fists at her sides, fighting the urge to argue further, but it was clear they weren't going to win this. Frustrated, she exchanged a look with MJ, who was equally unsatisfied.
"Great," Gwen muttered sarcastically, turning on her heel and heading back upstairs.
MJ followed silently behind her, both of them irritated but resigned to their fate.
As they reached their room again, Gwen threw herself onto her bed, glaring at the ceiling. "This is going to be a nightmare."
MJ sighed and sat on the edge of her own bed. "You're telling me." Neither girl said anything more as they unpacked in silence, the weight of their unresolved past hanging heavily in the air.
Gwen meandered through the vibrant streets of Venice, each turn revealing more picturesque scenery that seemed to belong in a painting. The pastel-colored buildings stretched toward the sky, their balconies adorned with potted plants overflowing with bright flowers. Every corner of the city seemed alive with history, charm, and the bustling energy of both locals and tourists. The soft murmur of Italian conversations filled the air, mixing with the gentle sloshing of the canal waters.
Her mind drifted from the tension of the school trip as she paused to admire the artisan shops displaying Murano glass figurines and hand-sewn leather goods. This was exactly what she needed-a break from the group, especially after the awkward boat ride earlier and the stifling atmosphere between her and MJ.
But just as Gwen felt the weight of those thoughts lift, a prickle of awareness traveled up her spine. She could sense someone watching her again, and when she glanced over her shoulder, her suspicions were confirmed. MJ was walking a few paces behind her, her usual detached expression on her face.
Gwen scowled, stopping abruptly. "Are you following me now?" she demanded, irritation lacing her voice as she faced MJ. Her hands rested on her hips, her frustration evident.
MJ stopped too, her hands stuffed in her jacket pockets as she tilted her head slightly. "I'm just walking," she said coolly, her tone completely unaffected.
"Right," Gwen scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Because it's just a coincidence that you've been staring at me since we got here?"
MJ shrugged, her dark eyes locked on Gwen's. "I miss being your friend."
The words, said so plainly, caught Gwen off guard for a split second. But then she felt a bitter laugh bubble up in her throat, and she let it out, shaking her head. "Yeah, no thanks. You don't get to pull the 'I miss you' card after everything you said."
MJ didn't flinch at the sharpness in Gwen's voice, but the tension in the air between them thickened.
"You said you didn't trust me," Gwen continued, her voice hard and unforgiving. "So, why are you pretending now that you miss what we had? Sorry, but I'm not interested." She stared at MJ for another second, hoping to see some flicker of regret, of anything, but MJ's face remained impassive.
"See ya," Gwen said curtly, not waiting for a response before spinning on her heel and walking away, her anger simmering just beneath the surface. She was done with MJ's mixed signals, done with the confusion of their strained relationship.
Gwen pushed through the door of a nearby jewelry shop, the chime above the entrance jingling as she stepped inside. The soft lighting of the store calmed her a little, and she exhaled, trying to shake off the lingering frustration from her encounter with MJ. As she walked through the store, her eyes darted over the display cases filled with shimmering necklaces, bracelets, and earrings.
It wasn't long before a particular necklace caught her eye-a delicate silver chain with a small pendant shaped like a Venetian gondola. There was something about it, a simple beauty that spoke to her. She picked it up carefully, admiring the way the light reflected off the polished silver.
As she turned to take the necklace to the counter, she overheard a conversation behind her. A man was speaking in rapid Italian, and somewhere in the flurry of words, she caught the word "boh." It had a nice ring to it-short, easy, and kind of charming. Gwen smiled to herself, assuming it must be something polite, maybe even a casual "thank you" in Italian.
Confident in her assumption, she approached the register and placed the necklace on the counter. The cashier, a friendly-looking woman with dark hair and an apron, greeted her with a smile.
Gwen beamed back, ready to show off her newfound Italian. "Boh," she said with a slight nod, as if she were a seasoned traveler familiar with the language.
The cashier's smile immediately faltered. Her brow furrowed in confusion, and before Gwen could process what was happening, the woman launched into a rapid stream of Italian, her hands gesturing animatedly.
Gwen's eyes widened. "Uh-sorry, what?"
The cashier didn't slow down, clearly trying to explain something. She pointed at the necklace, at Gwen, and at herself, her voice growing more perplexed with each passing second.
Gwen's heart sank as she stood there, completely lost. "Boh?" she tried again, weaker this time.
The cashier frowned even deeper, continuing her tirade in Italian. Gwen quickly realized she had made a mistake-a big one. The woman wasn't just confused; she was genuinely trying to figure out what the hell Gwen was saying.
"Uh, sorry! I didn't-uh-I'll just-sorry!" Gwen stammered, her face flushing with embarrassment. She quickly grabbed the necklace and rushed out of the store, nearly knocking into the doorframe in her haste to escape.
Once she was safely outside, Gwen stopped, catching her breath. And then, slowly, the absurdity of the situation hit her. She couldn't help it-laughter bubbled up from her chest, and she leaned against the wall of the shop, covering her mouth to stifle the sound.
Of course "boh" doesn't mean thank you, she thought, still laughing at her own cluelessness. I probably just told that poor woman I don't know in the most confident way possible.
Gwen wiped a tear from her eye, still chuckling as she pushed herself off the wall and resumed her walk down the street. Despite the embarrassment, the whole thing had been a much-needed break from the tension of the day. Venice, with its odd mishaps and unexpected moments, was starting to grow on her.
As Gwen was still chuckling to herself, enjoying the absurdity of her "boh" mishap, she noticed a middle-aged man approaching her. He had a warm smile and a casual demeanor, dressed in a well-fitted jacket and a hat that looked right at home in the streets of Venice. He greeted her in rapid Italian, his words flowing effortlessly as he gestured toward the shop she had just exited.
Gwen blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the sudden conversation. "Uh... sorry," she said, raising her hands in a flustered apology. "I don't speak Italian. English?"
The man stopped mid-sentence, then chuckled, shaking his head as if amused by his own assumption. "Ah, English! My apologies," he said in a thick accent but with clear enough English. "I thought you were local for a moment."
Gwen smiled sheepishly, still feeling the embarrassment of her recent encounter. "Yeah, no. I just had a bit of an awkward run-in with the language," she admitted, brushing a strand of wet hair behind her ear.
The man raised an eyebrow with a knowing smile. "Ah, yes. I saw what happened inside. You said 'boh,' yes?"
Gwen's face flushed a bit as she laughed nervously. "Yeah... about that. I thought it meant something like 'thank you' or 'hello' in Italian. Clearly, I was wrong."
The man chuckled again, a kind gleam in his eye. "Ah, 'boh' is an interesting word. It's not exactly polite, but not rude either. It's... how do you say... very casual. It can mean 'I don't know,' yes, but also it is used when you are unsure or don't have an opinion. Like a shrug of the shoulders in word form."
Gwen furrowed her brow, intrigued now. "So it can mean more than just 'I don't know?'"
The man nodded. "Exactly. For example, if someone asks, 'What do you want to eat?' you can say 'boh,' which means you have no preference. Or, if someone asks you for an answer to something, you can say 'boh' if you truly don't know. It's very flexible-one of those words that depend on how you use it."
"Wow, that's... kind of cool, actually," Gwen mused, now finding a sort of charm in the phrase. "So, I basically told that poor woman behind the counter that I didn't know what I was doing, huh?"
The man laughed heartily, nodding. "Yes, something like that. But don't worry! Venetians are used to tourists trying their hand at Italian. They are forgiving, especially when you do it with a smile."
Gwen relaxed a little more, grateful for the man's kind explanation. "Thanks. I feel a little less dumb now."
"You're most welcome," the man said with a grin. "Enjoy Venice, and don't be afraid to try more Italian. Even if you make mistakes, it's all part of the experience!"
With a quick wave, he turned and continued on his way, leaving Gwen standing there, smiling to herself. Boh, she thought with amusement, rolling the word around in her mind. It was kind of perfect, in a way-flexible, just like this trip had been so far. Full of unknowns, awkward moments, and surprises.
Feeling a little lighter, Gwen glanced down at the silver gondola necklace she was still holding and slipped it into her bag. Venice, it seemed, had its own way of teaching lessons. With a small laugh, she continued down the street, eager to see what else this city had in store for her.
As Gwen continued down the narrow Venetian street, the old stone buildings casting long shadows across the cobblestones, she suddenly spotted Peter. He was standing by a small gelato shop, glancing around nervously before quickly hiding something behind his back when he noticed her approach.
"Boh," Gwen said with a mischievous smirk, her eyes glinting playfully.
Peter blinked at her, clearly confused. "What?"
"Boh," she repeated, this time a little more deliberately, amused by his confusion as she started walking again. Peter caught up to her, falling into step beside her.
"Is that... supposed to mean something?" he asked, trying to decipher her tone.
Gwen grinned. "It's the most perfect word. Italians invented it, and I just discovered it."
Peter raised an eyebrow. "Okay... what does it mean?"
"Well, that's the beauty of it-it can mean a million things. It can mean 'I don't know,' 'get out of my face,' or even 'I don't care.' It's the best thing Italy created, except for, maybe, espresso," Gwen explained with an excited chuckle.
Peter gave her a knowing look. "Oh, so that's what's going on. You've been drinking espresso, haven't you?"
"Me? What? No! I mean, maybe-what's your point?" Gwen replied, clearly hyped up on caffeine, her energy level betraying her words. She spoke quickly, almost too quickly, making Peter chuckle under his breath.
As they walked, a guy approached them, carrying a small bouquet of roses. "Hey, German? American? A rose for you," he said, eyes on Gwen.
Gwen glared at him for a second before using her new favorite word. "Boh," she said firmly, crossing her arms.
The guy hesitated, clearly picking up on her disinterest. "Okay," he muttered and quickly retreated, leaving Peter to stare after him in amazement.
"Whoa," Peter said, impressed. "That word's like a superpower or something."
Gwen smirked. "Boh is my new superpower. I can use it on creepy old guys, annoying tourists-anyone really. It's like the anti-aloha. I was born to say this word."
Peter shook his head in amused disbelief, but Gwen had already shifted her attention. Her eyes dropped to the small bag Peter was holding, the one he had been trying to hide earlier. She tilted her head in curiosity.
"So... what's in the bag?" she asked, a teasing smile on her lips.
Peter's eyes widened slightly, and he fumbled for an answer. "Oh, uh... boh," he said with a shrug, using her word with a playful grin.
Gwen burst out laughing, appreciating how he was now in on the joke. But before she could press further, she felt a sudden tremor beneath her feet. Her laughter quickly faded as the ground began to shake, sending ripples through the cobblestones. She could feel the vibration traveling through the street, and her gaze quickly shifted to the canal nearby.
"Peter..." Gwen's voice trailed off, her eyes wide as she watched the water begin to rise, bubbling unnaturally as it climbed higher and higher.
Before either of them could react, a huge wave of water erupted from the canal, spraying upward like a geyser.
Peter's face hardened. "Gwen, go!" he shouted, his voice tense with urgency.
Without hesitation, Gwen darted off, her heart pounding as she wove through the narrow streets, adrenaline surging through her veins. She glanced back at Peter once, her eyes full of worry, but she knew he could handle whatever was coming.
She sprinted faster, her mind racing, wondering just what had caused the water to rise like that. But more importantly-what was going to happen next?
As Gwen darted through the streets, she felt the ground trembling beneath her feet, the rumbling growing louder. Peter had yelled for her to run, but something pulled her in the opposite direction. Ignoring his warning, she slipped into a narrow, dimly lit alley that shook with unsettling force. The vibrations from the rising water coursed through the buildings on either side of her, cracks forming in the old Venetian structures.
"This is going to get messy," Gwen muttered under her breath.
She quickly dropped her backpack, glancing around to make sure no one was watching. In one fluid motion, she slipped into her Spider-Woman suit, pulling the mask over her face just as the alley behind her began to shift with the movement of the city. The suit was snug and familiar, and as soon as it was on, Gwen felt more in control.
Hearing a familiar sound above her, Gwen shot a web and swung up, landing on the edge of a rooftop. There, she spotted Peter wearing a cheap Joker mask that was clearly picked up in some tourist shop.
"Seriously?" Gwen quipped, landing gracefully beside him. "Joker mask? I thought you were the guy who always did his homework."
Peter glanced at her, holding two strands of webbing that were stretched between buildings to stop them from collapsing into each other. "I didn't exactly pack a cool mask in my backpack," he shot back. "Now help me out before these buildings turn into rubble."
Gwen smirked under her mask and shot a web to one of the trembling buildings, mirroring Peter's stance as she pulled, adding her strength to his. The buildings groaned under the strain of the webbing, but they held, suspended between their combined efforts.
Suddenly, the water below surged even higher, and out of the foamy chaos, a massive sea monster burst forth, its serpentine form twisting and crashing into the canals. Its roar echoed through the streets, sending waves of panic through the people who hadn't evacuated.
"This day just keeps getting better," Gwen muttered.
But before the monster could cause any more destruction, a figure flew into view, cutting through the mist like a beacon. The guy was wearing a cape that billowed dramatically behind him, and his mask glittered like a mirrorball, reflecting the chaos below.
Peter and Gwen exchanged incredulous looks as the caped figure flew directly toward the monster. "Who is that guy?" Gwen whispered in awe.
The figure didn't waste any time. With incredible speed and precision, he unleashed a series of energy blasts that struck the sea monster, causing it to thrash wildly. Within moments, the once-massive creature was reduced to nothing more than ripples in the water as it dissolved into mist.
Peter sighed in relief, but the buildings around them were still unstable. "Well, that was-"
Before he could finish, the building he was holding suddenly shifted again. His webbing snapped under the pressure, and he lost his footing, falling backward off the edge of the rooftop.
"Peter!" Gwen shouted, diving after him without hesitation. In one swift motion, she shot a web at a nearby pole and grabbed Peter by the wrist, swinging him back toward the alley below.
As they swung, someone nearby had their phone out, and Gwen caught a glimpse of them recording the whole thing. "Great," Peter groaned, already anticipating the fallout. "Flash is going to have a field day with this, isn't he?"
Gwen chuckled, landing lightly on the ground as she set Peter down. "Yeah, probably. But hey, at least I saved you, right?"
Peter gave her a sheepish grin, nodding. "Yeah, thanks for that."
Before either of them could say more, Gwen heard someone shout from the distance, "Oh my God, Spider-Woman is in Italy!"
With a smirk, Gwen glanced at Peter. "Looks like I'm going international."
Without another word, she shot a web into the air and swung away, disappearing into the sky as the excited murmurs of the crowd followed her.
ASH SPEAKS!
i love them sm... CAN THEY GET TOGETHER ALREADY???
PLEASE DONT BE A GHOST READER!!!!
COMMENT AND VOTE! IT HELPS US WRITERS STAY MOTIVATED:)
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