CHAPTER TWO
°⋆∴☽°:۵≼

i. divine debate !

— THE CAFETERIA AT MIDTOWN HIGH SCHOOL WASN'T MUCH OF A SPECTACLE. The meals were simple, usually varying around mini vegetables, meatballs, and cheese strings piled onto plastic plates- finished off with chocolate milk or bottled orange juice. The tables were cheap plastic, paired with identical benches that creaked and groaned whenever someone took a seat.

Still, to a student, the sight was blissful. It was a space that symbolised momentary peace from the hustle and headache of every boring class.

This was especially true for Peter, who mindlessly trailed after Ned towards their ever vacant table, glad to be free from his tiresome, torturesome English as they quietly discussed a very intense ongoing debate- a growing argument that they'd had a million times before and yet had never found common ground, or any point of agreement.

"Dude, Scar killed his own brother and practically exiled Simba, he's by far the worst Disney villain based on morals alone." Ned insisted, sliding his tray down onto their table as he shrugged off his backpack.

Peter did the same, tossing his bag beneath the bench as he sat down, "The hunter killed Bambi's mother, man-"

"He's a hunter, that's his job, killing is his necessity- Scar's isn't, he just wanted the throne." Ned defended dramatically, prying open his carton of chocolate milk, "The hunter is just one cog in a machine, and if you appreciated the Lion King as much as I did, you would understand that that's just the circle of life."

"You guys aren't actually arguing about animated animals are you?" A voice called from down the length of the table, interrupting their heated discussion.

They recognized the girl as Michelle Jones, an objectively strange and unusual character who often gravitated towards them despite the emotional distance and well constructed walls she built around herself

"No- uh..." Peter smiled awkwardly, "Disney villains. We were just- arguing about who's the worst one when considering their evil deeds and overall atrocities."

"And you landed on the hunter from Bambi?" Michelle asked with a deadpan expression, and slight tilt of the head. "Simba spent most of his life eating bugs and believing Mufasa's death was his fault. Scar wins by a longshot."

"Thank you!" Ned exclaimed, raising his milk carton in a gesture of gratitude before seemingly remembering something, "Oh, hey, we saw the mural in the language hall. You did a great job on the sketch."

"What sketch?"

Ned's eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the immediate response, "Y'know- you did the sketch for the Lionel mural-"

"Did I?" Michelle returned simply, in a typically monotone voice that was difficult to discern sincerity from sarcasm, an equally challenging look in her eye.

"... Okay." The boy curiously stared at her, before dropping the topic entirely as a new one raced into his mind and he turned back to his best friend with renewed enthusiasm, "Did you see the new theory in the paper? They're suspecting aliens."

Peter looked at him incredulously, "He was not killed by aliens."

"He could have been."

"No- Ned, it wasn't aliens."

"I'm just saying, we don't know that it wasn't."

In a last ditch effort to win over the newest argument, Peter addressed Michelle again, knowing that she and Ned occasionally swapped conspiracies since the very publicised death of Lionel LaFrance about a year ago. Even now, it remains a topic of many discussions in Queens. A kind, rich, renowned figure, not to mention only age sixteen- found brutally murdered and displayed on the steps of his own home, no leads, no witnesses, no evidence.

It was bizarre, to say the least, and had easily become a true crime enthusiast's gold mine. Which is why, Peter assumed, Michelle was so interested. Ned's interest, however, came from the conspiracist perspective, and it had caused many a dispute between the two from across the cafeteria table.

"Please tell him it wasn't aliens." Peter pleaded with the girl in a light-hearted tone, not really expecting her to humour them.

Still, she surprised him, "It wasn't aliens."

"Wow, I didn't think you would-"

"It was the mafia."

Peter simply nodded his head in an awkward and reluctantly agreeable manner, "Right, okay."

— IT WASN'T THAT PETER PARKER WAS PARTICULARLY DISLIKED. In fact, he had nearly perfected the wallflower's approach to highschool, never sticking his neck out where it didn't belong, never demanding attention where it wasn't necessary. He participated, sure, but just enough to get by. The most interesting and out of place thing he had committed to was the decathlon club, which hardly earned him a place of glory among his students.

No, it wasn't that Peter was disliked. Just that Flash Thompson, for whatever unknown reason, had made it his life's mission to ridicule the boy.

"Sup, Penis Parker!" He called from down the hall as Peter was waiting for Ned to gather his things so they could walk to the subway together, maybe detouring for a snack from Delmar's- or as Peter had declared it: 'the best sandwiches in Queens'.

Peter sighed heavily, never looking forward to his interactions with Flash. Every time they had so much as spoken to one another, had been against Peter's will.

Choosing to simply ignore the boy, Peter hiked his backpack up on his shoulder and continued the sentence that had been so rudely interrupted.

"Anyway, Thumper is the best Disney companion." He restated, reigniting their new topic of debate.

"Dude, what is it with you and the Bambi movie?" Ned countered, tugging on his own bag and shutting his locker, sliding the lock into place.

"Yo, Parker, I'm talking to you!" Flash shouted again, closer now as he had moved towards the two.

"It's a classic!" Peter insisted, continuing to try and ignore the very obvious calls for his name- or rather a cruel, uncreative version of it.

Flash was growing angrier by the second, finally close enough to reach out and push the the boy, if only to make himself feel more intimidating- but before he could, a rogue skateboard rolled under his raised foot as he stomped down, sending him into frantic unbalance, ending with him hitting the floor and sprawling out awkwardly in a messy heap.

This caught everyone's attention, as they turned and whispered, laughing as Flash huffed and picked himself back up, slinking away in an embarrassed fashion.

While Peter had seen the commotion, and heard the build of chatter that had come with it, his own attention was elsewhere. On the small window in the door of some half abandoned classroom, and the strange split second of a blurred, shapeless reflection that raised the hair on the back of Peter's neck and sent a shiver creeping up the back of his spine.

"So..." Ned broke through Peter's confused, racing thoughts, "Sandwiches?"

"Yeah." Peter responded instinctively, "Well- maybe. I may not have enough, but I'll walk with you."

Though, as they left, he was ignorant of the crisp five dollar bill in the left hand pocket of his jeans, which certainly hadn't been there before. Furthermore, he remained unaware of the thing that followed him, like a shadow upon his very being, yet with far lighter and fairer intentions.

author's note

this chapter is brought to you by our Thankmas fundraising efforts!! our total is now $260.00! y'all are insane honestly, you've been absolutely smashing through incentive goals before i've even got the material ready lol, thank you so much (: <3

aNyway ily guys
let me know what you think so far!