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The hallways had emptied aside from a few straggling students when Sophie had begun her school tour. I kept my hands shoved in my pockets, senses on high alert as I followed Sophie into the hallway.

"So, this is the main hallway," Sophie began with a cheerful tone, gesturing around us as we walked. "You've got your basic essentials here: lockers, restrooms, and the main office which we just came from."

I nodded along, mentally mapping out the schools layout as the bubbly blond continued forward. While we walked I overheard conversations from the straggling students, classrooms and even the girls washroom—someone complaining about a pop quiz in history, another discussing last night's basketball game, and a pair of girls talking excitedly about the upcoming homecoming dance.

"This is where you'll find most of your core classes," Sophie said, stopping in the middle of the hallway. "Math, English, History—they're all in this wing. The teachers here are pretty chill, but Mr. Leventhal is the one you really want to watch out for. He teaches calculus, and let's just say he's not big on tardiness."

I couldn't help but smirk a little at Sophie's playful warning. "Good to know," I replied, my voice holding a hint of amusement.

We continued down the hall, and Sophie led me through the labyrinth of classrooms and corridors, pointing out various rooms and landmarks. The science labs were in the next hallway, with the familiar sterile smell of chemicals wafting through the air. I caught sight of a couple of students wearing lab coats through the small windows in the doors, busy setting up experiments.

"You're gonna love Ms. Sanchez's biology class," Sophie said, nudging me lightly with her elbow, my body tensing at the unexpected contact. "She's super nice and has this thing for making learning fun—like, I heard they did a CSI-themed project last year!"

I nodded again in acknowledgement, my gaze briefly drifting to the students as they worked.

As we turned another corner, we arrived at the cafeteria—a large, open space filled with rows of tables and chairs. The scent of food lingered in the air, even though lunch was still hours away.

"The cafeteria can get pretty crowded, but there are some quieter spots if you know where to look," Sophie explained. "I usually sit over there." She gestured to a table near the windows, where sunlight streamed in, giving the area a warm, inviting feel.

"And next," Sophie said, leading me toward a set of double doors, "this is the gym. PE classes, school assemblies, and all that fun stuff happen here. Do you play any sports?"

"Not really. I mean, I used to do some boxing, but nothing serious." I shook my head.

"Boxing? That's cool!" Sophie's eyes lit up with genuine interest. "You might want to check out the school's martial arts club. They do a mix of different styles, and it's a great way to stay active."

"Maybe I will," I said, offering a faint smile. Sophie returned the smile even brighter, seemingly satisfied with how the tour was going.

"So, how are you liking it here so far?" Sophie asked, her voice warm and welcoming as we headed towards the final location.

I shrugged, glancing around. "It's different, for sure. But... I think I'll get used to it."

"You will," Sophie assured me. "Midtown's actually a pretty cool place once you get to know it. There's something for everyone here—clubs, sports, whatever you're into."

We stopped in front of a large bulletin board filled with flyers for various school clubs and events. Sophie pointed out a few of the flyers, rattling off the options. "We've got the usual stuff like debate, chess, and yearbook, but then there's also some quirky ones like the D&D club and even a baking club. Seriously, there's something for everyone."

"Actually we are about to go to my favourite place in the whole school!" She cheered, leading us both to the double doors. "The auditorium!" She threw the doors open with excitement. "This is where the theatre department puts on our yearly musical. Last year, we did 'Waitress.' It was amazing. The songs, the choreography, everything came together so well. And the cast was incredible. I played Dawn, which was super fun because I got to be this quirky, awkward character who ends up finding love." Sophie rambled and I was sure I had never heard someone talk so much in my life.

"So, do you know what the musical's going to be this year?" I asked, making an attempt at small talk as Sophie walked up onto the stage to continue talking.

Sophie shook her head, a bit of suspense in her voice. "Not yet. The drama teacher, Mrs. Reynolds, likes to keep it a secret until just before auditions. There's always a lot of speculation, though. Some people are hoping for something classic, like 'West Side Story' or 'Grease,' but others are pushing for something more modern, like 'Dear Evan Hansen' or 'Heathers.' I personally would love to do 'Mamma Mia' playing Sophie is my dream role." She smiled brightly, the stage only enhancing her bright personality.

"Well, that's the grand tour! Do you have any questions or anything you want to know about the school?" She asked, looking to me for an answer as we exited the auditorium back into the hallway.

I paused, taking a moment to process everything. The school was big, but Sophie's easygoing demeanour made it feel less intimidating. "No, I think I'm good for now. Thanks, Sophie."

"No problem at all! I'm here to help," Sophie replied, her smile unwavering. "If you ever need anything, just find me. I'll be around."

With that, Sophie led me back toward the main hall, where the second bell was about to ring to signal the change of classes.

"Ready for your first class?" Sophie asked, walking alongside me.

"Yeah, I'm ready." I decided.

The bell had rung, signalling the end of the first class, and students flooded the hallways, heading off to their next destinations. Sophie and I navigated the bustling corridor, Sophie's cheerful chatter providing a comforting backdrop to the chaos.

Peter Parker stepped out of his classroom, camera in hand, talking softly into it as he navigated the crowded hallway. The lens was pointed at his face, capturing his thoughts for a film project he was working on for his media class.

"A film by Peter Parker. New York, Queens. It's a rough borough, but, hey, it's home." He spoke dramatically.

"So, for this project, I'm going for a documentary style—something that captures the everyday life of a high school student," Peter narrated, changing his tone to one with a mix of enthusiasm and thoughtfulness. "You know, the highs, the lows, the awkward moments... maybe even some unexpected encounters."

He glanced down at the small screen on the back of his camera, making sure everything was in focus. "I want to keep it real, show what it's like to juggle school, friendships, and... other responsibilities." He trailed off, thinking of something else before refocusing. "But mostly, I want to tell a story that people can relate to."

Distracted by his musings, Peter didn't notice the figure ahead of him until it was too late. With a soft thud, he bumped into someone, the camera jostling in his grip. Peter instinctively reached out, steadying both the camera and the person he'd collided with.

"Oh, sorry about that," Peter apologized quickly, looking up to see a girl he didn't recognize.

I felt his hand on my waist, and alarm rang through me. The way he touched me, combined with the suddenness of it all and the close proximity, made my heart race. In the chaos of the moment, my instincts took over and I shoved him back with a push to the chest. As a few students stopped to stare nobody had time to intervene before I swung my fist and landed a solid punch at the boys eye.

Peter staggered back, his camera falling a few inches away from him. Students around us gasped, whispers and murmurs spread through the crowd. Peter's camera was fortunately still intact, but he was now holding his face, wincing in pain.

"Maggie" Sophie stepped up to her cautiously, trying to get me to stand down.

"He fucking touched me! What the hell was I supposed to do?" I shot back at her, blue eyes going wide with shock. Seeing the fear in her face I instantly backed down, but the walls around me only built up further.

The commotion attracted the attention of a few teachers who quickly intervened. One of them, approached us with a concerned expression, stepping between Peter and I.

"Peter, are you okay?" The teacher directed her focus to Peter first.

Peter, still holding his eye and wincing, nodded. "I'm fine. Just... surprised."

"Let's step into the office and talk about what just happened." She turned her attention to me next.

My anger was replaced with a surge of anxiety as I realized the gravity of the situation, kicked out again. I glanced at Peter, who was now rubbing his bruised eye and looking a bit dazed. My chest tightened with regret as I followed the woman down the hall to the office, Peter slowly staggering behind with Sophies help to guide him.

I sat down with a defiant huff, putting up my tough exterior once again to prevent the hurt of being kicked out of a place that seemed safe. I knew my reaction had been way out of proportion, but I acted first and now the sting of regret was heavy.

When Matt arrived at Midtown High, he walked into the office and instantly picked up on the nervous heartbeat of a young boy and a few seats away the strong heartbeat of his own daughter. Peter sat in the main office, holding an ice pack to his eye after he spent the last fifteen minutes begging the secretary not to call his aunt. I was seated with a gap separating us, arms crossed and staring dead ahead with my headphones covering my ears to block out everything.

"And if the real thing don't do the trick. You better make up something quick. You gonna burn, burn, burn, burn, burn to the wick. Ooh, barracuda, oh, yeah"

Something tapped my foot and I snapped my head up to see the familiar face. Pulling down my headphones the music drifted over to Matts ears, "'Sell me, sell you' the porpoise said 'Dive down deep, now, save my head'"

"Hey, you okay?" Matt asked me first, his voice filled with concern.

"I'm fine," I muttered, giving a small nod while brushing my thumb over my knuckles that were sure to develop some bruising after that hit.

"Alright," he sighed, relieved, before turning his attention to the principal who was waiting for us.

"Mr. and Miss Murdock," the principal called, motioning us into his office.

Once inside, Mr Morita got straight to the point. "You know, she should be expelled. She has a record of physical violence," He pointed out, eyes narrowing slightly at the two of us.

"I hope not. But if every other first-time offender is expelled, then I guess fair is fair," Matt replied, his demeanor shifting into full lawyer mode.

"Are you going to take this seriously, Mr. Murdock?" Mr Morita asked, his patience wearing thin.

"Absolutely. You don't bluff me, I don't bluff you," Matt responded firmly.

"I think Maggie, I think she's gotta be here. Todays a bad ending. You can't hit people. But a boy disrespects her boundaries and she stands up. Do you know how important it is to me that she did that? You know how proud I am of her? Aren't you?" Matt spun it around to give another point of view on the situation.

The principal sighed, "Mr. Murdock, your daughter gave a boy a black eye."

"I know, I know, you can't hit people. That will be made very clear. But Mr Morita, I'm sorry, I wish it didn't come to this, but Maggie stays."

"Mr. Murdock, this is a serious offense," the principal started again, his tone harsh as he handled the dispute.

"I understand that," Matt replied, voice steady.

"This is a mistake. We can't have a student with violent tendencies continuing here," He insisted. "Maggie Murdock is to leave with you and not return."

Matt nodded, not arguing further as he knew it would only make things worse in the moment. The two of us stood up and exited the office together. I kept my gaze forward and stern as I passed the boy who had gotten me into this situation, still holding an ice pack to his bruising eye, posture stiffening.

"You're going to be okay, Mags. Just remember, you can't solve everything with your fists." Matt squeezed my shoulder gently as we walked out of the building.

"I know, Dad," I said, looking up at him with a weak smile. "Thanks for standing up for me."

"Always," he replied, smiling back. "Now, let's go home. We'll figure out what to do next."

Matt's mind raced with potential next steps. He knew this was a setback, but he was determined to find a way to support his daughter and help me navigate this new challenge. The weight of the decision pressed heavily on his shoulders, but he knew he couldn't give up on me now. Not when this place was so good for me. He just needed a little bit of help.

As I walked by, Peter couldn't help but wonder about the new girl. I seemed different—guarded, maybe even a little intense. But there was something about me that piqued his interest. Maybe I had my own story to tell, one that would be worth exploring.

With that thought in mind, Peter made a mental note to keep an eye out for Maggie Murdock in the days to come.

At the apartment the smell of dinner lingered in the air, Foggy leaning against the counter with a beer in hand. Karen Page sat at the table, occasionally glancing at the empty seat next to her. Matt, seated across from Karen stayed silent, but clearly in deep thought.

I was notably absent, sitting on the rooftop seeking solace. Ever since arriving home from school I've been quieter than usual, more withdrawn if possible.

"She's not coming down, huh?" Foggy asks, breaking the tension in the room. He glances toward the stairway to the roof, then turns back to his friend.

Matt shakes his head, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "She's upset. Doesn't think I understand what she's going through... Maybe she's right. I just wish I could do more for her. I feel like I'm failing her."

"Matt, you can't blame yourself. This is her what? Thirteenth school in the last six years? It's bound to be tough." Karen pointed out to him.

"I get that, Karen, but I just thought Midtown was the right fit," Matt says, his frustration slipping into his voice. "Now I have to start looking into other schools. She hates it. It's just disappointing that she didn't try harder to be on her best behaviour today."

"You're doing your best. She's been through a lot. We just need to be there for her and help her through this." Foggy straightened up, more serious now as he moved to sit beside Matt and Karen. "She's had one bad incident with a student. We could still try to fix this."

Karen looks between them, "He's right, Matt. You two are lawyers—damn good ones, too. Go to the principal, make a case. It's a misunderstanding. You've fought more intimidating adversaries than a public school principal."

Matt leans back, considering Karen's words. "Yeah, maybe. But it's not just one incident. There are whispers... she's got a record."

Foggy nods sympathetically, placing his beer on the table. "I hear you, but pulling her out right away might not send the best message. Look, I know a guy on the school board—Mike Dennison. Maybe I can see if he knows anything from their side, get some more leverage before you go in to talk to the principal."

Karen perks up at this. "That's a good lead. You can build a case from both ends. Worst case scenario, the principal doesn't listen, but with someone on the school board involved, they'll have to."

Matt sighs. "I'll go in tomorrow. Talk to the principal again. But I'm not going to keep her there if things get worse for her."

Foggy smiles, his optimism contagious. "We'll handle it like we would any case. We build an argument, present the facts, and come out on top. Just think of it as taking on Midtown High's administration."

Karen chuckles lightly. "And if anyone's equipped to take them on, it's you two."

Matt manages a slight smile, his shoulders relaxing a bit. "I'll give it another shot. I'll talk to her," Matt says quietly, pushing his chair back.

Foggy nods in support. "We've got her back, Matt. We're in this together."

As Matt heads toward the door leading to the rooftop, Karen and Foggy exchange a look, both standing to leave for the evening and give the father and daughter some time to sort things out.

The sky over Hell's Kitchen is dull, the hum of traffic and the occasional blare of sirens echo from below, but the rooftop is calm—a quiet retreat from the chaos below.

I sat on the ledge, legs pulled up to my chest, chin resting on my knees as I stare out at the skyline of city lights. I've been up here for a while, hiding from my father's disappointment inside. The door to the rooftop opens with a creak, and I hear familiar footsteps approaching.

Matt comes into view, balancing a tray with a cup of tea and a plate of dinner, despite the darkness that surrounds him. He doesn't speak right away, simply walking over to the ledge and placing the tray between us.

"I know you weren't hungry earlier," Matt says softly, "But I brought something up just in case."

I looked at the plate before pulling my headphones over my ears and turning my back to him again, looking out at the city.

"Maggie, stop with the music," Matt said, taking the headphones off my ears. "Listen, did we have a rule about you and school?" He asked sternly when I spun around to face him.

"What?" I asked back, my tone sharp with annoyance.

"Are you allowed to pick fights at school? Yes or no?" Matt's voice was firm, speaking to me as if I was a child.

"No," I mumbled, my voice barely above a whisper.

"No!" Matt repeated, more harshly this time.

I tried to take back my headphones, but Matt snatched them away from my hands. "Enough with the music! Are you allowed to get in trouble at school?"

"No," I replied, feeling the weight of his frustration.

"No!" he repeated again. "Then why did I have to pick you up from school, huh? Can you answer me that? You broke every rule!" He grew more exasperated while my gaze focused on my shoes. "We have these rules. We've gone over them a hundred times!"

Matt let out a sigh, knowing his anger and frustration was getting the best of him. He closed his eyes and leaned back on the ledge, taking in the sounds of the city.

"Maggie," he began, his voice softer, "nothing that happened today was your fault. I got mad at you... but I was really mad at me. I'm sorry," he apologized, looking in my direction with distant eyes. "Do you forgive me?"

"Sure. Whatever," I shrugged, mumbling.

"Hey, come on," he encouraged. "Please, it doesn't count if it's not eye to eye," he reminded. "Come on, please." I met his face with a huff, unsure of how he always knew when I wasn't looking at him.

"Are you really disappointed in me?" I asked, my voice small and uncertain, picking up on his earlier words to Foggy and Karen.

"That's not what I said," he sighed.

"Hmm. Did you mean it?" I pressed.

"Last month, you said I was the worst father in the world and you wished death upon me because I didn't let you go to a boxing match. Did you mean that?" he asked, his ears listening for any hint of dishonesty.

"No. Not entirely,"

"There you go. We say things all the time we don't mean. So... let's forget it, okay?" Matt offered, extending a peace offering.

"Okay," I agreed, nodding slightly.

"Okay," he repeated, nodding back.

My gaze lowered back to the plate, hesitating before I reached for the cup of tea instead. I wrapped my hands around it, letting the warmth seep into my fingers.

"I'm sorry," I said after a moment, my voice quiet but heavy with guilt that Matt could sense.

"You don't need to apologize, Maggie. This isn't your fault." He stopped me from spiralling.

I looked down at the tea, my brows furrowing. "But it is... I shouldn't have reacted like that. I just—I got so mad, and now it's a mess."

Matt shifts slightly, turning his head toward me. "You had every right to be upset. But here's the thing: we're not giving up on this. I spoke with Foggy and Karen. We've got a plan."

"What plan?" My head lifted with a spark of curiosity.

"We're going to talk to the principal again, and this time, we'll make sure they listen. Foggy knows someone on the school board who can help us push back. If we play this right, they'll let you back in."

My expression softens, relief washing over my face. "Really? You think they'll let me back?"

Matt smiles, a weight lifting from his shoulders. "I do. I mean I am a really good lawyer."

For a moment, there's a comfortable silence between us. I take a sip of my tea, feeling the tension slowly ease out of my tense body. I hadn't realized how much this whole thing had been weighing me down until now, and knowing that Matt had a plan—a real plan—makes me feel like everything might actually be okay.

"I don't want to leave Midtown, Dad," I admitted quietly. "I just... I want to make it work."

Matt turns his head slightly, and though he can't see me, he knows the weight behind my words. He rests a hand on my shoulder, giving a gentle squeeze. "We'll make it work. Together."

I nod and take another sip of tea, letting the warmth spread through me, and for the first time in a while, I feel hopeful.

Matt stands up to retreat back into the apartment when I called out to him just before he reached the door. "Dad?"

"Yeah?" He paused.

"Can I go to the next boxing match?" I asked with a hopeful grin.

"No," he shook his head, but a small smile played on his lips as he saw my attempt. I couldn't help but smile back. "Don't stay out here all night. You've got school in the morning." He warned and with that he closed the door behind him, leaving me to look out at the city again.

Peter slumped down on his bed while his aunt May shuffled around the kitchen in search of an ice pack. "Who was it? Who hit you?" May calls out from the kitchen, the unmistakable edge of worry in her voice.

"Some guy," Peter replies, trying to sound nonchalant.

"What's 'some guy's' name?" May fires back, more curious now.

Peter hesitates. "Uh... Nick."

"Nick? From 12C? With the overbite?"

"No, no, no. He's from Hell's Kitchen." He called back just before his door swung open completely and May returned with a pack of frozen peas in hand. She sat on the edge of his bed gently, casting a worried look at her nephew.

"Well, I hope you got a few good hits in," she says, her tone half-joking.

Peter shifts uncomfortably but gives her a small smile. "Yeah, I got quite a few in actually. But he was mad, like really mad."

May hands him the frozen peas and Peter gratefully holds it to his swollen eye. "That's way better. Thanks, May." He winces slightly as the ice makes contact with the tender skin.

She gives him a playful pat on the leg as she stands to leave. "Okay, tough guy."

Peter watches her walk toward the door. "Love you, May!" he calls after her, the warmth in his voice unmistakable.

May turns, a soft smile on her face. "Love you too, Peter. But seriously—if you ever need backup, I know a guy." She winks and disappears down the hallway after closing the door behind herself.

Peter chuckles to himself before sitting up straighter. Once the door clicks shut, he grabs his camera from the nightstand and props it up on his desk. He flicks it on, the red light blinking in the dim room to signal recording.

"It was the most insane thing!" he begins, his voice pitched with disbelief. "She was all, 'Hey, watch it!' and I apologized, of course, because, you know, me, but she noticed my hand on her waist because I caught her from falling and then... bam! She just starts wailing on me. Like, for real. All because I accidentally bumped into her."

He gestures animatedly, wincing when the motion pulls at the tender muscles around his eye. "Note to self: not everyone is thrilled to be part of a high school documentary."

Peter leans back in his chair, rubbing his temples as if trying to process everything that had happened. "I mean, she could've just asked me to stop, right? But nope. Full-on attack mode."

He glances over at his reflection in the camera's lens and sighs. "This whole project was supposed to be about the city, you know? About capturing the little moments. Didn't think I'd be capturing a fight scene starring me."

For a second, Peter's mind drifts back to the fight, thinking about the girl who threw the punches. She had skills—far beyond a regular street brawler. There was something off about her, but he hadn't had time to think about it before the fists started flying.

He leans forward again, addressing the camera as if it were an old friend. "But, hey, at least now I've got a cool battle scar, right?" He lifts the ice pack, revealing the swollen black eye for the camera to capture. "So, I guess that's something."

The red recording light blinks, reflecting in Peter's eye as he groans and leans back in his chair, still processing the day's chaotic events. He hits the record button to stop, then tosses the ice pack onto his bed with a sigh.

"Being Spider-Man is hard enough. Being Peter Parker... that's a whole different fight." He muttered to himself.

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Question of the day: What is your favourite musical?

Next chapter comes out tomorrow!

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