Peter Parker walks back in the room, and I stand with my hands on my hips, facing him. His smile drops when he sees the scowl on my face.

"What happened?" he asks.

I clamp down on my jaw. Mostly to keep myself from talking. I don't say anything, instead digging through his mind. The information is near the front, hiding behind his worry that I suddenly realize he is a nerd and that I am way out of his league. It's the equivalent of bolded and underlined, something that is always on the back of his mind. Something which he was in the middle of doing last night on the bridge, and something he is planning on doing when I leave.

"You're Spider-man," I cross my arms over my chest.

He drops the bowl of chips in his hands, and a frown spreads across his face. "You read my mind?"

"I didn't have to," I feel each breath come out of me like a hurricane. The room is quiet, except for my climbing rage. Since my hands are beginning to shake, I grab the shoe off the ground and squeeze it. "This, this is all the proof I need."

He furrows his brow. "Wait, you went through my stuff?"

"Please," I roll my eyes. "It fell out of your messy closet."

He snatches the shoe back, his reflexes too quick for me to grab it from him. I am fast, but I'm no superhero.

His eyes widen. "How do you know that having this shoe makes me Spider-man? Are you the masked vigilante?"

"I was," I tell him.

"You lied," he shakes his head at me, his jaw open. "You said you didn't use your powers for good."

I run a hand through my hair, nearly pulling it out in a fist. "Is that your takeaway, Peter? That I'm using my powers for good? Jesus Christ, you are my biggest rival. I've been trying to find out your identity for a month! You got me fired, and you almost got my brother arrested!"

He steps forward, his feet crunching on the chips. "But... but I didn't."

"I told you I could read minds yesterday, and you didn't tell me that you were Spider-man?" I ask, blinking back tears. I can't tell if I'm sad or if I'm angry, but probably some horrid mix of the two. "You don't trust me, do you?"

"Well, I know that you don't like Spider-man, from the way you yelled at me when I saved your brother from those guys," Peter begins, scratching the back of his neck. I used to think that gesture was cute, but now his nervousness angers me. He doesn't get to be nervous. I poured out my whole heart to him yesterday, and he didn't tell me that I wasn't alone. He's like me too. "I wasn't sure if saving your life when that bus hit was enough. I was... honestly I hoped it was."

"Wait, were you following me?" I demand, stepping closer to him.

He shakes his head back and forth. "No, I didn't know you were on the bus."

When I pause, he leans forward.

"Are you reading my mind right now?" he demands. "Seriously, Darcy?"

I walk brush past him, all of the chips crushing under my feet.

"Wait, Darcy, I'm sorry," he says.

"For what? For lying to me, or for throwing my own superpower in my face?" I ask him.

He bites his lip, moving in after me. As I walk to the front door and slip on my shoes, he stands behind me and watches. Doesn't reach for me, doesn't do anything.

"Just so you know, I did read your mind before I went blindly accusing of being Spider-man," I tell him, standing up and putting my jacket on. "Also, go spray your sticky shit all over New York or whatever, just keep it away from me."

I slam the door behind me.

Outside, I wait on the other side of the door. I expect him to chase after me, but he doesn't.

Instead, I head back home.

Once I'm inside the apartment, I hear Mama crying at the kitchen table. I read her mind. She just got off the phone with Anthony's Mama. While she's offered us some financial support for taking care of her son, he's not welcome back home. The bills will be covered for this month, but Mama is worried about the next month and the month after that. She's worried that I'm going to lose my scholarship too, at the back of her mind.

I won't, because I cheat on every test.

Before I leave the doorway, I come up with the plan. It's barely thrown together, and it's garbage, but I approach my Mama with it anyway.

There are tear stains on her face, but she doesn't seem to notice. "Hey querida, how are you?"

"Not good," I sit down across from her. "I'd like to finish the rest of the semester online and move in upstate with Ximena."

~~~~~

This is short and it's been a long time, but I'm struggling to find motivation for this story. If you read it, I really appreciate comments. They are kind of what keep me motivated. I have more stuff back written, so I can update more frequently. I just kind of need the motivation.

Sorry for rambling, and thank you all for reading.