The second the bell rings, Peter and I are out the door. We're always the first people to leave since we have bigger fish to fry than stupid essays and reports. We don't exactly stick to the ground, but swing above it.

"Ready to go?" I ask Peter, glancing at the boy beside me. He's been my best friend ever since I came to America. Sure, I've got a bit of a friendship circle going on, but I'm closest with Peter. My mum introduced us, he showed me around everywhere, we just kinda clicked.

"Yeah," he nods, smiling at me. "What do you do when you're out, anyway?" "Observe," I shrug. "It's helpful." "How is observing people helpful?" He asks.

"I can always show you what I do," I offer. "I think I'm good," he laughs. "I only wanted to find out what you're up to, I don't need you to teach me."

"I can give you a demonstration, if you want," I shrug. "Sure, go ahead," he agrees, curious to see what I'll do. I look him over, then smirk.

"You had to borrow one of Michelle's pens because your one got snapped."

"What? How did you know that?" He asked, surprised. "There's blue ink on your fingers, not a smudge because that would be more faded but this is just a huge blot all over both of your hands. Looks like you tried to wash it off between classes but didn't have enough time to do it properly. Then there's the red ink smudges on your hand where you would've been writing with a red pen for the rest of the lesson, but I know you don't bother to buy red pens because we're not really supposed to write in them except to mark stuff.

You would've had to have borrowed a pen from someone and in most of your classes you sit close to Michelle due to alphabetical orders with assigned seating, Michelle who always has a pen on hand but never in the right colour. What I'm guessing happened is that your pen snapped, you leaned over to Michelle and asked to borrow a pen, she said all she had left was a red one and you took it, then at the end of class you went to the toilets to try and clean the blue ink off your hands but you didn't want to be late for your next class so you did it in a rush and ran out again to get to class on time. Do I have that right?"

Peter blinks in surprise. "You got all that just from a few ink stains?" "Yup," I nod. "Pays to be observant."

He just chuckles and we stop at my house. Since my mum knows about our powers and she's cool with us heading out, we usually stop by here to change into our suits. It's better than Peter losing his bag again because he left it in an alley while he was off being his alter ego.

I grab the key from my pocket and unlock the door, then we step inside. "Mum, we're back!" I yell, but it doesn't look like she's home. Fair enough. She is isn't always home at this hour, she's usually still at work.

Peter and I head upstairs. He changes in the bathroom while I change in my room. I'm just putting my mask on when Peter knocks on the door. I open it as I pull my hood over my head.

My suit has my mother's hood on it, but mostly it has a unique design from the other Spider's costumes. I have the Spider logo reaching its eight legs down from my shoulders and meeting the body right between my collar bones. The same is going on on the back in a dark red, which is outlined by a slightly lighter red. Everywhere upwards from the logo is decorated with the webbing pattern that all the Spiders seem to have somewhere. The spots where there aren't any details like these are black, aside from my white eyes.

I'd say I look pretty good.

"Ready to go?" Peter asks. He's completely suited up, mask and all, so it almost seems like he's a different person now. I guess it's like that for all costumed random weirdos that wander the streets either causing or stopping trouble.

"You know I am," I nod. "Got your web fluid or do you need to be topped up?" "I'm good, I just made some more today," he replies, opening the window. "Gotcha," I nod, following him. We both climb out the window and start swinging towards the centre of the city.

Once we arrive, we split off, though as usual Peter attempts to convince me to join him. He thinks I waste my powers, though obviously he's too nice to be so blunt about it. He's always saying how great it would be if I were a hero like him, or at least tried to be rather than sitting around on my own.

Once he finally gets going, I smirk and start swinging around the streets, enjoying myself. It's always been so much fun to swing with my webs. I had to work hard to perfect my webs, but it was so worth it.

Humming, I eventually head towards my perch. Well, technically speaking it's far from mine, but I've never been stopped before and frankly I doubt it's against the law for me to go there... and if it is, it's not like I'm doing any harm.

I soon reach my destination; Avengers Tower.

Instead of going inside, I start walking up the wall as though it was a completely normal thing to do. I walked up one of the few parts of the exterior walls that wasn't glass, so I don't have to worry about being caught by any Avengers.

Actually, unless the Avengers are all blind and oblivious as to what goes on in and around their own home, they've most likely seen me before and are just not saying anything... or they see someone climbing the tower, think it's just Peter and leave me in peace. Either way works, I guess.

I make it up to the ledge that sticks out near the top of the tower. The Avengers must use this as either a landing pad sort of thing or a balcony. Knowing Tony Stark, probably both.

I'm not stupid enough to go on top of the ledge and I never will be, but I do have a lot of fun underneath it.

I simply hang upside-down on the underside of the ledge, my feet the only thing connecting me to it as I watch the city streets below me - though it feels as though they're above me.