Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

You better run fast, Spider-Man! 

And that’s what he’s doing…running until his knees give out. Come on, spider-senses! Work for once! 

Blood drips down onto the Wiskyok High’s ground. It comes from the deep scratch that ripped his suit. Right on the tight. Great. The girls probably won’t notice the huge wound during soccer practice. Right? Right, rightt… 

At least he needs to make sure Mr. Martinez is not on the verge of kicking him off the team… 

“Where the fuck is my phone…” he mutters, cursing as he flips his backpack upside down and dumps all his things onto the floor. His cellphone hits the ground on its back—thankfully. 

The phone buzzes, the screen lighting up to show his cat on the lock screen, as ‘Captain Jackiess :)’ just sent him a bunch of angry texts.

Nat??? You’re running late!!!

Mr. Martinez is so pissed with you! He said you better get your ass here right now!!

Oh my days, are you sleeping? Did you miss class, too? 

Natalieeeee!!!! followed by another ten messages with her name being written in all caps and exclamation points. 

He gathers his things off the ground quickly, looking around to make sure no one sees him. Mr. Martinez has been a pain in the ass lately. It’s like he knows Natalie’s big secret—and…wait. What if coach Martinez is one of Spider-Man’s enemies? Nah. Impossible. He can’t be…he’s too fat to run after Spider-Man.

I mean—is she wrong? 

Anyway, he has been on her ass since last week, when she showed up to practice an hour late with ripped cleats and blood on her socks. She just smiled at him wide, all teeth, and nodded once and sharp before he could yell at her. Then, it was Wednesday when her mom called the principal to tell him that she broke her arm and can’t come to school (she was back on Thursday with a fully healed hand). All these things raised questions. He probably thinks she lied or something, but it was true. Her arm was broken. It just…healed so fast.

When she finally makes it into the locker room, she peels the suit off and tosses it into her backpack to be washed later.

God, it stinks. 

While waiting for the shower water to warm up, she texts Lottie Matthews to tell Coach M. she’ll be on the field in ten minutes.

Her skin burns when the water and soap hit the larger scratches. The smaller ones already begin to heal, which is good.

As she shampoos her hair—yes, she is washing it, even though it’s windy outside—she stares at the blood-stained water running down the drain.

Her toes are fucked up from being crushed by a car… and from running in shoes that are too small.

She rushes, pulling on her bra and underwear, not even fully drying off before throwing her brand-new WHS gray tee shirt over her head. Her shorts still have droplets of water on them because she couldn't wait. She’s on a tight schedule, alright?

As she ties her cleats on the bench, Misty Quigley walks in, singing something. Natalie sees how red the girl’s face turns at the sight. I mean, if you were a virgin like Misty here, you’d probably get flustered too. Nat’s hair is wet, water dripping onto the cold metal of the bench, her arms flex as she ties her shoes. The room is all steamy…

“Oh, sorry, Nat!” Misty squeaks, her face is flushed, and she nearly drops the soccer balls onto the linoleum.  

“Misty. Oh—uh, sorry if I scared you,” Natalie says, glancing up, laces still between her fingers.

“No, no! It’s my fault,” Misty laughs awkwardly. “I didn’t know you were here. I just came to grab the pinnies for—um—scrimmage!”

“Alright. Let me finish tying my shoes and I’ll help you.”

Misty swallows as she nods quickly with a big smile plastered on her face. Natalie almost laughs at how pink the girl’s cheeks are.

It’s cute—ew. What the hell, Nat?! 

Cute? Misty Quigley is not cute. She has the smile of a serial killer. The Shining kind of smile. 

Whatever.

She has worse things to worry about than Misty Quigley’s smile. Such as dealing with Mr. Martinez's grumpy ass. Before she leaves the locker room, she makes sure to pull her shorts lower so the wound wouldn’t be visible to the others. 

When she steps onto the field, all the girls are stretching. Misty walks beside her, smiling like a kid who just won a teddy bear and a lollipop.

Speaking of lollipops—Lottie Matthews has brand-new cleats. Shiny. Expensive. Rich-girl cleats.

She stretches with Taissa, giggling at some stupid joke Van said. Her big brown eyes get so small whenever she laughs.

It’s cute—that’s cute—no, nah-uh. Fuck, stop.

Okay…maybe a little cute. Especially with her little pigtails…and yellow ribbons…and—ugh.
Get a fucking grip, Natalie!

You can’t blame this on spider-senses too. 

“Hey, Nat. Can you tell me why you’re so late?” 

Ah, Jackie. Of course. Jackie captain Taylor is standing in front of her, adopting a stance that makes her seem a bit more tough than a five foot nothing chihuahua. She crosses her arms and tilts her head, chewing at the gum in her mouth. Natalie almost shoves her into the ground for that. “I got into some trouble…My uh—never mind. It’s okay now. You don’t need to worry about my safety, Jax.”

“Oh, nuh-uh. I’m not worried about your safety. I’m worried about fucking Nationals! States are coming soon, Nat. Can you remember that, please?” 

Here she is, soft Jackie Taylor. She almost pouts and flushes her lashes saying that. 

“Yeah-yeah. Sorry,” Nat says, patting Jackie on the shoulder. Damn, she can feel Shauna’s eyes burning holes in her as Jackie rests her head on her shoulder. 

“Umm…Jackie? Shauna is almost jumping my ass, can you back off maybe?” Natalie whispers in Jackie’s ear, trying her best to not get her teammate even more upset. 

“She’s watching?”

“…Yeah.”

“Good. That’s what she gets for sleeping at Taissa’s.” 

Yeah, of course. Jackie and Shauna have been best friends since elementary school. Pink and green. It all started because Shauna had an older brother whose favorite color was green, and when I say that, I meant that boy was all about green. His room was swamp green, his skateboard was neon green, and his school supplies were all fucking green. Deb Shipman couldn’t (or at least didn’t want to) buy Shauna a new, personal lunchbox so she got the green one passed on. Meanwhile, Jackie had a pink backpack and a pink lunchbox to match her stickers, which she put all over everything. Fucking stupid if Nat stays to think about it. She’s not even sure if Jackie likes pink anymore. She barely wears it, and besides that, Shauna is close to hating green. 

But, at the end of the day, they are each other’s best friend, and there’s not a single person in the world who could break them apart, other than themselves. 

When Jackie pulls back, Natalie meets Lottie’s eyes, which were checking her out not even ten seconds ago. But, of course, as low self-esteem she is, Natalie doesn’t view that as something else other than just being nice. Which is dumb, and stupid, because everyone can tell Lottie Matthews has a crush on her. 

Van thinks that even if Lottie, herself, would tell Natalie that she has feelings for her, Natalie still wouldn’t believe it. 

She would be like “Ha, funny. You can cut the cameras, now,” and Lottie would just stare at her dumbfounded and then probably run away. 

Anyway. Now, Lottie is waving small from the ground, and Natalie is doing the same—sticking her tongue out after. 

It’s their thing. Like sharing the same pair of wired earphones whenever Lottie takes the subway. Or always picking each other for drills. Normal friends activities, right? 

“Trouble, huh?” Lottie asks as she ties her cleats, chin on her knee and eyes focused on the shoelaces. 

“You know me. Same old same old,” Natalie replies smiling as she flops down on the trimmed grass to stretch her legs, too. Van gives her a look before going back to her conversation with Taissa. Ugh, why can’t Van act normal? She always has to get into Nat’s business. 

“Well, you’re lucky he isn’t—“ Lottie pauses, eyes wide before glancing at Natalie, “Wow, Nat, what the fuck? What happened to your leg?” 

Shitshitshitshit! 

Everyone stops dead in their tracks, turning their attention to Natalie, who feels like she was caught masturbating in her room once again. God, she’s sweating and—oh my god, did she even put deodorant on? 

“I—umm…” 

“Jesus, Nat! Are you okay?” Jackie asks, bending down to see the wound better, “Seriously, what happened?” 

She has three options that could save her life or make her want to die. The first one, tell them you got injured last night during practice with Van, and hope she gets it and plays along (or ruins everything). The second one, tell them the truth: “I’m Spider-man…”—which they won’t believe, and would make her even more untrustworthy. And the last one: “I got caught stealing booze and I had to jump a fence which slid my tight pretty open,” which is plausible. She’s Natalie Scatorccio after all. 

The only thing she can see and hear is ‘this action will have consequences’, and that awful sound that ruined her night. Stupid butterflies…

“I got caught stealing booze and I had to jump this wired fence that was rusty and—and my jeans got caught in it and scratched my tight!” God, Nat, breathe! 

“Oh, my god,” coach Ben stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the injury, his whistle still between his lips. 

Their faces seem to read that they fucking believed it—which technically isn’t too hard to believe, because as I said, she is Natalie Scatorccio after all. 

The one who allegedly shot her dad in the head at only fourteen years old. The one who gets a basketball in the nose every now and then. The burnout, the whore—pick  whichever you like. She’s far from a perfect student and even more far from a well behaved person. But she’s still a good child. Coach Scott knows that, some of her teammates do, too. 

“Alright, girls…umm—let’s maybe give Natalie some space? I’m sure it doesn’t help to be surrounded by ten other girls staring at your shitty injury,” Ben continues, moving some girls further while glancing at the open wound now and then himself. 

Natalie can see in the corner of her eye Laura Lee praying and asking the Lord for mercy. Allie gossiping with Mari behind Lee, looking like two devils on the angel’s shoulder. 

“Fuck. Sorry, Nat. I didn’t mean to make everyone stare at you,” Lottie apologises, and Natalie can see that she’s truly feeling sorry. “Umm…you should probably get it checked out, though.” 

“Yeah, Nat. You should,” Van agrees. 

“No, I can’t,” she shakes her head, laughing. “It’s fine! I’m fine.” 

Lottie tilts her head, “Nat, come on…” 

“It’s bullshit! I’m good! I’m more than fine. Besides, I just got here. Mr. Martinez would be pissed!” 

Coach Scott blows his whistle from the sidelines, signaling for Mari and Shauna to stop wrestling (when did that even happen and why?). After that, he jogs to Natalie and the other girls that remained by her side. Jackie is watching from the bleachers, jealousy reading off her face.

“Hey, Coach, can you tell Nat that she needs to see the nurse?” Lottie says. 

“I’m not going anywhere. This,” she points at her injury, “can wait ‘till after practice, okay? I have it since last night and I haven’t died yet so—“

“Nat, go to the nurse’s office, please,” Ben interrupts her. “Coach Martinez can’t make it today. He got a call from the school. His younger son broke his arm during an arm wrestling match.” 

Come on, Javi…

Javi Martinez is her twelve year old neighbor, but also Travis’s younger brother, and of course Bill Martinez’s son. She has a soft spot for the boy. He’s always outside his apartment, reading a book on the stairs and listening to whatever music he stole from Travis’s bedroom. Natalie gave him a mixtape last week when Travis stole his back. It pretty much contains a lot of loud music—heavy metal—because it would make it harder for him to hear his parents fighting. There’s also some decent tracks such as ‘Bullet with Butterfly Wings’, ‘My way’, ‘Fell On Black Days’ and ‘Here Comes Your Man’.

You know, songs that won’t make the boy question his life this young, and get him into Elliott Smith and cheap cigarettes that will stop his growth. Besides, that staircase already has a depressed raccoon blasting Elliott Smith first thing in the morning, not even giving the day a chance. One is more than enough.

“…So yeah. Get it checked faster, Natalie.” 

Huh. 

“Heard me?” Ben asks with his hands on his hips, adopting the typical dad stance. The only thing Nat can think about is how stupid he looks in those booty shorts. “Nat, did you hear anything that I said?”

“Yeah-yeah! Of course…” 

He rubs a temple and tilts his head in the High School’s direction, “Go. Fast.” 

Natalie opens her mouth to say something, but the expression on his face makes her snap her mouth shut. 

The curses are on the tip of her tongue as she does the only thing he ever asked her. She nods and starts dragging herself towards the building's entrance. “I'd better go with her…” Van says, not waiting for Coach's permission. 

Who cares what a thirty-year-old is thinking, anyway? 

When they finally get far enough from the others, Natalie opens her mouth, “What the fuck, Van? Are you trying to get me into trouble?”

Van stops walking. “Am I trying to get you into trouble? Nat, I just fucking saved your sorry ass!”

“Yeah. Sure. And how is that exactly?” Natalie scoffs and puts her hands on her hips. Van arches her eyebrow and gives Nat the ‘are you stupid’ look. “Good thing Coach isn’t here,” Natalie adds. “Otherwise he’d kick my ass off the team.”

Van lets out a short laugh, shaking her head. “Oh my God, you’re actually stupid.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re bleeding through your shorts.”

”…And? They all already have seen it. Laura Lee is even praying for me!” Natalie snaps, throwing her hands up. “You’re not helpful, Van. If you wanted to help you’d leave me alone and stop getting into my business.” 

“Oh, okay. This isn’t even about practice anymore…” Van starts to walk off, but Nat doesn’t.

”What does that even mean?!”

Van exhales, turning on her heel back to her friend. Her lips are pressed together like she’s holding back from saying something that would split the ground between them. “Look,” she exhales again, “We need to get you to the nurse’s office first, get you bandaged, and then we can talk.”

”Nurse’s office? Get bandaged? Van, what the fuck?!” 

Van walks back to Natalie, annoyance read by the way she moves and her jaw tenses. Her voice lowers when she closes the distance. “What are you going to tell our teammates when your wound magically closes? Because if you didn’t notice, it already started to heal! So you either get your ass to the nurse or have to explain to everyone that you got your ass bitten by a radioactive spider when you wanted to get high!” 

Right…Van knows her better than she knows herself. She tells that redhead everything. Every-fucking-thing. What she ate for breakfast, what fight Ben and Paul had in the morning, and for some unknown reason by both of them—what color her boxers are. She never gets bored with Van. It’s one of those friendships you have fun only by hanging out. They don’t really need topics to talk about. They just say whatever shit goes through their mind—especially when they’re both high off that $10 weed.

“Well... fuck!” Natalie drags her hands down her face. “I can’t go to the nurse’s office either. She’ll call my mom, then the principal, then coach Martinez. I can’t risk that…besides, it’s not like I can get it stitched.” 

The thing is, Natalie is afraid of needles. So when she learned that being Spider-Man comes with faster healing than a normal human being, it made her accept the idea that she’s no longer a normal teenager anymore. 

She can’t drink on Fridays at Jackie Taylor’s parties—or Mari’s—because she never knows when something bad is going to happen and Spider-Man would be needed. 

So, yeah. 

With great power comes great responsibility.

Natalie rubs her eyes while Van strokes an imaginary beard, trying to figure out how to hide Nat’s injury. They’re both right. She can’t continue practice with her wound visible to the others—in case it closes up faster than anticipated. And she can’t go to the nurse’s office either. It’s fucking hell. She hasn’t thought so much about making a decision since her fruitless plan to steal a flask from the chemistry lab to make a bong. And she thought about that high. 

Then, as if a light bulb flickers on over Van’s head, “Walk with me.” 

She doesn’t ask any questions or protests. The redhead leads her behind the High School’s gymnasium and starts pacing around in front of her, still rubbing her chin. “I’ve got something…but I don’t know how much you’d like it.”

Natalie watches the frizzy little hairs sticking up on top of Van’s head, jaw tightening as she debates whether to ask. Eventually, “Spill.” 

“Misty?” 

“Misty?” Nat leans back against the brick wall. “That’s all you got? Misty?”

“Yeah.” Van shrugs. “She’s got a first aid kit or something, right?” 

Natalie nods, closing her eyes. “I’m not sure I want her that close to me. But I guess it’s the best option?”

“Better than nothing.” 

They both turn, pressing their front against the wall and moving slowly as if they were in some stupid heist movie. Reaching the corner of the gym, they peek, sticking their heads out. “Go ahead,” Natalie whispers, scanning for the poodle haired girl. 

“Me?” 

“Your plan.” 

“Shut up,” Van mutters , grabbing the edge of the brick wall and leaning more out just enough to scan the field.

The girls are still stretching. Mrs. Cat is flirting with Coach Ben like she doesn’t know he is married. To a man. Actually, Nat appreciates her for bringing some drama between Paul and Ben. It’s more fun waking up to more pancakes than usual, when Paul would’ve been staying around in the morning to eat half her breakfast. Whenever they argue, Natalie has to sit across from them, staring over the rim of the 100% natural orange juice that Ben makes her drink because “It’s healthy, and it helps with your hangover.” 

Van’s blue eyes finally drift from Taissa and find Misty fucking Quigley—as Shauna calls her. She’s off to the side, fiddling with the pinnies, stacking and restacking them, happily to just be there, helping. 

Van nudges Natalie, jerking her chin in that direction. “There.”

Natalie squints. “You expect me to just—what? Catcall her? Yell ‘psst, psst’ and hope she comes?”

“Yes.”

“No.” 

Van sighs, shaking her head. “Watch and learn, asshole.” She cracks her neck, then back, and then fingers—cupping her hands around her mouth. Instead of calling her like every normal person would have done, Van makes this weird little clicking sound with her tongue, which gets her a side-eye from Natalie. 

“What the fuck is that?” 

Van stares at her. “Bird call,” she finally says. “Duh.” 

Natalie blinks. “And may I ask, how is that going to get her attention?” 

“She has a thing for birds. She owns a parrot.” 

“A parrot?” Natalie asks. “Like a talking parrot?”

“Something like that,” Van says before continuing to make the weird bird noises with her tongue. “I need some help. Maybe if we both do it—it will get her attention.” 

Natalie inhales, tapping her boot aggressively against the ground. “Fine.” 

She can’t believe she’s actually doing this. Like actually doing it. Bird noises. Fucking bird noises. She leans out next to Van, already regretting every life choice that led her here, and makes a half-assed clicking noise. It sounds wrong and more like a dying insect than a bird. The only thing she’s thinking of doing is how much she wants to kill all the spiders in the entire world. Okay, maybe on the continent. Even though, now, they are technically her family? 

Van pauses mid-click and slowly turns her head. “…What the hell was that?”

“I don’t know!” Natalie hisses. “I don’t speak bird!”

“Commit to it!”

“I am committing!”

“That’s not commitment, Nat! It’s  embarrassing!” She enunciates the word.  

“Shut up—”

Van clicks again louder this time. Show-off. Natalie huffs and tries to do it better and louder. “Coo! Cuc-koo! Cuc-koo!” 

Holy fucking shit. 

Misty’s head actually snapped up. She turned her head around, scanning through the field, pinnies forgotten in her hand. 

“Oh my fucking God,” Natalie breathes a laugh, nudging Van with her elbow. “Let’s do it again!”

Cuc-koo! Cuc-koo! Coo, coo, coo! Cra-cra! 

Something in Misty changes. It’s like she got activated. Like she has her own kind of spider-senses and they are…bird-senses? Fuck. It’s—amazing! And weird…but wholesome. 

“No-fucking-way!”

They never saw Misty so confused and almost… animalistic? She pushes her glasses higher on her nose, turning fast in their direction as Van clicks her tongue for the last time. 

Click. 

Her eyes were on them. On two idiots sticking their head out from behind a wall, making bird noises like they’ve lost their minds. The funny part was that they didn’t even have an excuse. If they were high—then yes. Normal fucking behavior. 

Natalie ducks her head, “Oh my god, she fucking saw us. She’s watching us, Van!” 

Van doesn’t move. “Yeah. Yeah, she definitely saw us. She’s still watching us…God, she’s creepy!” 

“Abort mission. Abort mission!” 

“No-no-no, we’re committed now.” Van clicks her tongue, jerking her chin. “Come here, baby.”

“Come to daddy…” 

Cuc-koo! 

Misty rolls her head left and right before pointing at herself. Van nods once, winking as she continues to click her tongue. 

Misty hesitates, glancing back at the others. Coach Ben is still trying to maintain his composure in front of Mrs. Wheeler. Nobody’s paying attention. Lottie is sitting on the bench between Jackie and Shauna, fidgeting with her towel, a frown on her face as she’s completely zoned out.  

Good.

Quigley sets the pinnies down carefully and starts walking toward them. And it’s fast. She’s fast. Too fast. 

“Jesus Christ,” Natalie mutters. “She walks like she’s about to report us to the police.”

“Relax.”

“I am relaxed.” Except she isn’t. Something weird is happening to her body. For some reason, the wound—which is supposed to be healing—reopens, blood spilling down her thigh. 

Van looks at her, eyes dropping to the wound before she can stop them. “You’re bleeding.”

“I KNOW.”

Palmer flips her the bird, sticking her tongue out. 

Her gaze then drifts over to Misty who is actually looking quite offended. 

Jesus, she might actually report them to the Principal. Or worse: The animal shelter. 

“You two called me over using bird noises?” 

They glance at each other, then nod at the same time like they’re in a scooby doo movie. 

“It’s actually pretty offensive, you know that?” Misty crosses her arms, lifting her chin up. 

“Oh yeah—“

“We’re sorry, Misty,” Natalie interrupts. “We didn’t know it was offensive for you and the birds. We are both very sorry. Right, Van?” 

Fuck they aren’t. How is making bird noises offensive? It’s not like they’re making fun of them.

“So sorry, Quigs,” Van mutters.

“I guess I will accept your apologies then…” 

“We need your help,” Van says. “You have bandages, right?” 

“Yes.” 

“Okay…great. Natalie here,” she puts a hand on Nat’s back and nudges her forward, closer to Misty. “She needs your help, and only yours. Think you can handle that?” 

Misty’s eyebrows furrow, but then Natalie nods at her with a soft smile plastered on her face, dimples out. And that shifts something. “Of course. I actually took the Red Cross babysitting course twice!” 

Van forces a smile. “…Of course you did!”

The both of them hold eye contact with Misty, smiling so wide it starts to hurt. The girl doesn’t know who to look at, so she flickers her eyes between them. 

“Well?” Van nudges her arm lightly. There’s barely any force because God knows Misty will probably stumble back from a stronger shove. 

“Oh! Right! Of course! I’ll be right back!” 

The second Misty leaves, Natalie pinches Van’s bicep hard, making her wince. “Oww! What was that for?!” Van yanks her arm, rubbing the spot.

Well…Natalie unrolls the imaginary scroll like she’s some kind of historian reading an important piece of paper. Something like the Constitution. 

Ahem! 

—Making her bird call someone. That someone being Misty. Getting into her love life. Telling Lottie she still has her hoodie from last year despite Natalie telling Lottie she lost it. Making a shit gadget that dumped her into a garbage truck. Forgetting about her last weekend when they were supposed to go home together. Throwing up on her after she ate four Happy Meals after practice. And most importantly, smoking her weed which led her to get bitten by the radioactive spider. 

Now, the list is longer. Should she continue?

“So many things actually.” Natalie then slides down the wall into a crouch, wincing and jaw tightening as her ribs and shoulders still hurt from getting smashed into a building not so long ago. “Hey,” she mutters. “Did you talk to Travis?” 

“Oooh. About that…” Van starts wringing her hands. “Yeah…He doesn't really want to talk to me.” She scratches the back of her neck after. “I’m not sure why though. I haven’t called him Flex in a while.” 

Natalie throws her head back with a groan. “You couldn’t do the one thing I asked you to do?” 

“Why don’t you talk to him?!” 

“Okay-Okay! Fine. I’ll talk to him,” Natalie leans forward, head peeking around the corner to see if Misty’s coming. “Umm. Did you find out how he’s also Spider-Man? Like, how is that even possible? Two of us?”

 “I heard there’s some lab working on limb regeneration,” Van says, lowering her voice. “They use spiders. Real, dangerous spiders. Mostly their venom. They probably lost a few radioactive ones or something.” She shrugs. “I wasn’t going to say anything, but…you do need to go there.”

Natalie straightens a little. “Me? Why me? Why can’t you go?”

“Because you’re Spider-Man, Nat,” Van says like it’s already obvious. “I’m a normal teenager. I’ll get my ass kicked if I get caught.” 

“You can always use my gadgets! You know how they work better than I do. You literally fucking made them.” 

Van exhales, shaking her head and rubbing her forehead. “They’re not ready yet. And you have abilities. You’re a fucking human spider.”

Nat scoffs. “I don’t know shit about science.”

“It’s not too late to learn.” 

Natalie just stares at her. Stupid. 

“…I don’t know, man. Take Travis with you.” 

“Travis?” Natalie snorts. “What makes you think he knows shit about science?” 

“He’s a nerd.”

“He’s not a nerd. He just wears glasses and gets bullied. That doesn’t make him smart.” 

“Then you’ll have to fake it,” Van shoots back. “Like you did that time in Biology. You got an A+ just by pretending you’re listening and actually knowing shit.” 

Natalie rolls her eyes, murmuring something under her breath. “That was one time.” 

“Come on, dude. You’re good at math. That basically makes you good at everything.” 

And then, as the fucking ghost she is most of the times, Misty reappears with a wide smile on her face and a first aid kit clutched to her chest. “Sorry, girls! I had to make sure everything was set for scrimmage!” 

Natalie flinches but tries to hide it by smiling back. Jesu fucking Christ. 

“Of course,” Van responds. “Aren’t you the best, Quigs?”

The curly haired girl shrugs and pushes her glasses up like they’ll hide the blush spreading across her cheeks. 

“So,” Natalie says, straightening a bit. “I just need you to bandage it. Nothing else.” 

“What? But Nat—I can’t just bandage it. It could get infected.” 

“It won’t.” Natalie waves her off. “Trust me.”

Misty looks uncertain, so Natalie leans in just a little, dimples out and voice softer than usual. “Please?”

Misty stops resisting and drops down on her knees. She hesitates for a second, looking up at Natalie and down at the bloody fabric. Her fingers are shaking as she reaches to carefully lift the hem of Nat’s shorts just enough to see the wound better. “You sure you don’t want me to clean it?” 

“Yeah-no. That’s not necessary.” Natalie shakes her head, both hands pressing into her thigh. 

“Technically it is,” Misty shoots back. “You can have grass in it, or-or debris—which could cause an infection. And-and you said you got cut by a rusty metal. That can even be worse!” 

Natalie’s smile tightens just a bit. Shit. She should’ve kept her mouth shut. Also, wait a second—worse? What the hell could possibly be worse than this? 

“Tetanus can be worse than that Nat.”

What the…is she reading minds now? 

“I took a shower, okay? It’s already clean.” 

“Soap and water is not enough. You can still get tetanus.” 

Van crosses her arms and nods along with Misty. “She’s right.” 

Natalie shoots her a look. Not helpful, Van. Not at all…

Misty starts rummaging through the first aid kit, taking things out and looking at them carefully. She puts betadine on a cotton ball, holding it in one hand while the other pushes Nat’s shorts up again. “Huh…” Misty’s fingers hover over the skin. 

Natalie’s stomach drops, her hands tightening enough to leave marks. “What? What’s wrong?”

Misty passes Van the betadine soaked cotton ball and leans closer—close enough that her glasses nearly touch Nat’s skin—to inspect the wound. She looks truly fascinated by it. “It’s…not as deep as it was minutes ago.” 

Van’s grip on her own bicep tightens as she watches Misty. She can hear herself gulp. 

“It’s quite fascinating. I mean, from the amount of blood on your shorts it should’ve been deeper. But, I guess, from the way you’re walking it never was. Am I right?” Misty asks, looking up and pulling back. 

“I don’t know…” Natalie responds.

“Van? Can you come and take a look? You’re an expert in science too.” 

Van pushes off the wall. “You know, she’s not dying. Let’s not diagnose her like she is.” 

“I’m not,” Misty says, pressing around the wound when Van kneels down.  

“Fuck.” Don’t be a pussy, Nat. 

“See?” Misty continues. “Minimal swelling. And the edges…” she narrows her eyes, “they’re already starting to close.” 

Van presses her lips together, exhaling annoyed. “Every person’s different. She’s got good genes.” 

“Yeah,” Nat huffs a laugh. “Good genes.” 

Misty hums as she presses the cotton gently to clean the wound. “This might sting a little.”

“It’s fine,” Natalie sighs. A little sting won’t kill her. It’s not the sting she’s worried about. She never cleans her wounds with anything other than soap and water, and the occasional alcohol she sneaks in her room. What she’s actually worried about is that fucked-up snap—that sudden jolt that makes her feel like she’s about to lurch forward, stick to the ceiling, crawl up the nearest surface before she even realizes she’s moving. Just like she did on the subway the day she got bitten.

The contact of her skin and the antiseptic make Natalie hiss through her teeth, head throwing back. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

“You didn’t flinch.” 

“I did.” 

“No, you didn’t.”

“I did internally,” Natalie protests. “Very dramatic. Tears and everything. You should’ve seen it.” 

Van snorts, but Misty doesn’t even bother to smile. Nat bites her lower lip, staring at Van and silently begging her to do or say something. 

“Coach is waiting. You should hurry up bandaging.”

Thank God! 

Misty nods and unrolls the gauze bandage. “Did something like this ever happen before?” She asks casually. 

“Yeah-yeah-yeah.” Natalie immediately says. “I play soccer. I mean, isn’t it obvious I get injured a lot?” 

“That’s not what I meant.” Misty starts wrapping the bandage around Nat’s thigh. 

“Okay, Sherlock! I think we should let Natalie rest,” Van intervenes. “Don’t you have some pinnies to give or water bottles to fill?” 

Misty forces a smile. She then ties the bandage tight, making Natalie curse and jolt. Revenge. 

Touchée, read Van’s expression. 

“Sorry, Nat-Nat,” Misty says softly, guilt read in her tone as she’s smoothing the pain down with her palm. 

Natalie nods multiple times, eyes closed. Misty’s hand lingers until the pain settles. “Try not to run so much!” And then she’s gone, once again, as the ghost she is. 

Lottie’s been watching from the field, between Jackie and Shauna, with a frown on her face and her signature faraway look. She’s not doing it in a way that’s obvious. Not in a way anyone—not even Jackie—would notice. She tries not to, but she can’t help it. Her eyes keep drifting back to the side of the gym Her hand moves up and down her arm, nails digging into her skin whenever she feels guilty. She shouldn’t have said it out loud. She should’ve asked Natalie in private. Especially knowing the background she’s coming from. 

A loud ‘fuck!’ is heard from behind the gym, and Lottie’s head lifts, alarmed. It cuts through Jackie’s yapping about Nationals, or Jeff, whatever she’s talking about. Lottie isn’t really listening. 

Her other hand tightens around the edge of the bench.

“Lottie?” Shauna nudges her. “You okay?” 

“Yeah,” she says automatically like she always does. It’s a reflex now. She’s been doing it since a little child. 

“You seemed a little off. That’s all.” Shauna smiles, and it’s warm and makes her feel better. But it doesn’t stop her eyes from flickering back at where Natalie disappeared. And seeing Misty kneeled down doesn’t help either. Or the way Van winces and Nat’s lower body can be seen tensing. 

She stands up, but Jackie grabs her by the wrist. “Where are you going?” 

“Bathroom.”

“But, we’re about to start doing drills—“

“I’ll be back soon.” She glances in the gym’s direction for the last time. “Besides, Van and Nat aren’t here yet, so.” She pulls her arm free, using it to rub the back of her neck as she walks off. 

Jackie is off. She is never this nervous and seemingly scared to be left alone with Shauna. Hell, sometimes that’s all she wants and prays for, but now…it’s different.

Lottie tells herself that whatever is going on between Jackie and Shauna is not her problem. She’s more worried about Natalie and whatever shit is going behind that building. That wound…it-it doesn’t look like something a teenager would get from jumping a rusty fence. And-and Natalie wouldn’t steal booze the night before practice and a match against JV. Coach Martinez is already breathing down her neck, ready to blow the whistle and kick her off the team before Nationals come. 

The unraveling thoughts keep coming, flowing, flooding her mind. As her legs continue to move, her eyes stay fixed on the trimmed grass. Is Natalie in trouble? It’s not the first time she gets beaten…Fuck. Does she have money problems again? 

Then, unexpected and unaware of her footing, she stumbles back, her shoulder briefly hitting someone. 

“Sorry!” The person—someone Lottie hadn’t even noticed—says, making the brunette turn. 

Misty? 

Okay…now she has to see what’s going on.

”—it’s the best we both could afford. 

“Spandex?” 

Spandex?

“It gives you mobility and breathing. Do you like it or not? I can play around with the colors some more if you give it back.”

Give what back…?

“Yeeah…about that. It kind of got ripped during…you know what.” 

Woah, okay. She can’t do this. This makes her a total fucking creep.

“You can’t sit there and listen to Natalie talking about…hopefully not what you’re thinking about, weirdo.” She fights with herself and her awful thoughts, before she’s startled. 

Shit. Shit! 

“…Lottie?” 

“Now that Misty’s gone…” Van starts, standing across from Natalie, who is still holding her grip on her thigh. “What do you think about the suit?” 

“I like it,” she lies.

“Fuck you don’t.” 

“I do!” 

You see, the suit is good. Definitely better than the black ski mask she wore before. The actual suit makes her look like a superhero and not a car thief—or at least it did until a guy on the internet said the person behind the mask has to be an old dude who’s in his mid-forties and has a dead-end job and no footing in the world. She’s far from a divorced scum…even though her music taste doesn’t help sometimes. 

“It makes me look weird sometimes. I’m not used to wearing something so skin tight.”

“Every comic book has that kind of suit. Maybe theirs is better, but for now, it’s the best we both could afford.”

“Spandex?” 

“It gives you mobility and breathing. Do you like it or not? I can play around with the colors some more if you give it back.”

“Yeeah…about that. It kind of got ripped during…you know what.” 

Van blinks stubbornly. “What?” 

Something is heard from the side of the building, rocks and broken glass crunching against someone’s boot. Natalie doesn’t hear it, or at least isn’t bothered by it, but Van does. She peeks around the wall and sees Lottie, looking like she’s dealing with something internal. 

“Shit.” Van clears her throat. “Lottie?”

Uhh—fuck. Act cool, weirdo. 

“Hi, Van. Didn’t know you were here.” 

Van narrows her eyes. “Umm…what-what are you doing here, Lott?”

“Oh…you know…” Lottie nods her head, clearly buying herself time to come up with a plausible excuse. “Smoking.” 

“Where are your smokes?” Van asks.

”Oh—uhh. So, you see, I wanted to go smoke in the bathroom, but then Coach saw me getting up and asked me to check on you guys.” She presses her lips into a thin line, dimple showing as she’s way too satisfied with her own lie.

Natalie throws her head back, eyes squeezing shut. Couldn’t Ben find a better time? Also, couldn’t he send anyone else but Lottie? Just the presence of the girl makes her spider-sense go crazy. Her hands get stuck to her thigh, fingers flexing like they don’t even belong to her. Her head snaps, jerking to left and right. Her whole body feels ticklish. 

Something crawls under her skin, itchy, almost electric, like her body’s trying to react before she even knows what it’s reacting to. Danger! 

Danger? 

No idiot, that’s just Lottie. 

Her body snaps, head peeking around the corner of the building. “Hey, Lottie, watch out!” She says, gesturing for the girl to duck down, arm shooting out to catch the soccer ball coming their way. 

Right in the middle of her palm. It sticks to her fingers like it was smeared with honey. She wishes it was the Handball’s team ball because then she’d have an explanation to how the hell she caught it. 

“Holy shit. Impressive,” Lottie says instead of asking a million of questions like Quigley would have done. 

Natalie chuckles. She can’t help herself but feel smug. A compliment from Lottie makes her feel like she could walk on water. Something that Lottie can literally do. “Thanks. A lot of balls in your face makes you do this,” she explains. “It’s like reflex.”

Van quietly slips away between the two idiots’ laughter. She can’t handle their stupidity. Maybe she was like this with Taissa too at first, but it was only because Tai was the daughter of a lawyer. She didn’t know she was into girls like Natalie and the whole team—heck, even the whole High School—knows Lottie likes girls and only girls. 

“Uh…soo. Do you feel better?” 

“Yeah.” Natalie nods. “You were right. I had to bandage it.” 

“Told ya.” 

“You think you can run?” Lottie asks her when they’re back on the field, all the other girls already starting to do drills. “It’s just that Gen and Melissa had to go, so now I’m without a partner.” 

“Aren’t I always your partner, Matthews?” 

Is Charlotte Matthews actually blushing? 

“You are. I just don’t want you to hurt yourself, or…whatever.”

A smile tugs at Natalie’s lips. “Aww, you care about me?” 

“I just want you to be safe.”

”Mhmm. Sure you do,” she replies smugly, receiving a shove from Lottie. 

Unexpectedly, Shauna and Jackie aren’t doing drills with each other. Jackie picked Mari while Taissa picked Shauna, leaving Van with Laura Lee. 

Misty is looking at Natalie like she’s a hawk, different from her usual mama bear attitude. Nat could slip and fall, and Misty would be the first—if Lottie isn’t faster—to kneel down.  

“Did you finish the game?” 

“Hell yeah. I wish I didn’t, though. It fucked up all my night.” 

“What did you choose?” Lottie leans closer, dropping her voice like she’s out of a porn. Trying to hook up the virgin. (Well, she isn’t the virgin, Lotte is, but anyway). “Bay or Bae?” 

“I’m going to be honest. I wanted to pick Bay, but then I was like fuck it,” she shrugs. “It’s real love. I would’ve picked my lover too, I think…Mmm, not sure.” 

“Oh wow.” Lottie’s eyebrows raise, surprised. “I can’t believe we chose the same thing.” 

“Yeah, well. I did both ending, so.” 

They continued to pass the ball. “Thanks by the way. I would have bought it myself but I was waiting for it to be on sale.”

”It’s fine. My pleasure,” Lottie bows, circling her hand. She receives the shove from earlier back. They both laugh and it feels normal. Warm. Familiar. “You can play whatever game you want,” Lottie says when the laughter finally dies. “You have full access to my library.”

”Thanks, Lott.” 

They’re behind the bleachers after practice finished and the match against JV ended. Yellowjackets won 2-1 like always, and Jackie wasn’t pleased. She said something about how if a team like JV can score then they aren’t meant for Nationals, which is stupid, especially for her to say. The first goal was thanks to Taissa and the second was Shauna’s. JV only scored because Lottie was on the bench after she elbowed a girl, and Jackie ignored Shauna during the match, leading to Akilah scoring.

They haven’t even showered. Natalie could hear the pack of cigarettes in her bra calling her name. Nat, Nat, Nat…

And how rude of her would it have been if she didn’t give them a bit of attention and affection? 

Lottie smokes every time after a match. She gets so annoyed when Coach benches her. How is it her fault that bitch from JV couldn’t keep her nose from her elbow? 

“Grow up a little, Jeez,” Lottie had said when the girl started crying, tears mixing with the spilling blood from her nose. 

“You broke my nose, psycho!” 

“I’ll break your fucking jaw next,” Lottie says, now, reliving the moment. “That’s what I should have said.” 

Natalie snorts. “And what? Get a red card? It’s not worth it, Lot.” 

Lottie rolls her eyes and drags on her cigarette like it’s air. 

Outside it’s cold, clouds above them a deep grey, ready to spill their own tears. Natalie likes the cold, especially after two hours of continuous running and sweating. She also likes the smell of cigarettes on Lottie’s fingers when they come closer to her face to light the cigarette between her lips. 

It’s hot. Lottie is hot when she smokes. She’s hot in general but it’s something so different about her when she’s at a party, smoking, drinking from a solo red cup, hair loose, and when she’s having her hair in pigtails, bangs kept in place with yellow ribbons. 

Natalie thinks Lottie has multiple faces. Each with a different attitude depending on the social context she’s in. 

She’s aggressive on the field with the opponents, but gentle and caring with her teammates.

Natalie drags on her cigarette for the last time before stubbing it with her cleats. She picks her duffel bag off the ground, sliding it over her shoulder, ready to take off and not really say anything, not even a goodbye. But then, Lottie’s voice calls after her. 

“Hey, Nat?”

She looks back and Lottie stands exactly where she left her, cigarette still between fingers, exhaling a mouthful of smoke. “Are you taking the subway home? I have to run to the library and I know it’s one stop before your place,” she asks, looking to Nat’s side at the gym’s door. 

That would have been right only if she was going home. And only if that was still her home. She’s been living with Ben since three months ago, when her Mom was sent to rehab after an overdose. Now, that apartment is on hold until her Mom gets out and figures a way to pay the last months of rent plus the next ones. 

“Yeah,” she lies anyways because how could she say no to Lottie? 

She can’t believe she has history now, after geography—where she slept the whole time—and two hours of practice, and fighting two massive guys who tried—key-word tried—to rob her favorite bodega. Spider-Man should have at least one day free from high school and work.

The first thing—or person—she sees as she’s stepping into the cafeteria is Lottie Matthews reading a book on top of an empty table, far away from her little friend group formed by Laura Lee, Van and Taissa listening closely to something Shauna’s murmuring about. Probably the same thing Jackie is telling Mari across the room. 

Natalie isn’t a weirdo. She’s an observer in love with photography, and with the girl she dreamed about the whole period. She takes her camera out from her bag and points it at Lottie. But before she could take a picture, the annoying voice of one Bobby Farleigh scratches at her ears. 

“Come on, Flex. Suck it. Imagine it’s your own—“

“Leave him alone, Bobby,” Natalie intervenes, eyes falling on Travis, whose head is pressed against the table, a lollipop close to his mouth. 

Bobby looks up, scoffing. “Look who is here,” he whistles. “Came to take care of your little loser boyfriend?” 

“You got a problem?” 

“No. I knew you were a whore anyways.” 

She wishes she was strong enough to smash his head into the table. Oh, wait. She actually is. “It still didn’t stop you from fucking me. You must like sluts then.” 

Instead of responding, Bobby lifts Travis’s head by the hair, only to slam it against the metallic table once again. 

Fuck. 

A little blood spills from Travis’s temple. He reaches a hand to wipe it, looking at the blood on his fingers with his left eye. 

“Come on, Bobby. Leave him alone.” 

“Only if you take a picture of him sucking this lollipop. Then, I’ll leave him alone, Natty.” 

“Fuck you. I’m not going to take your fucking picture,” she spits. 

Bobby wipes her spit from his face. “Too bad then.”

She looks around the cafeteria, to the people forming a circle around them. Why is no one intervening? Why are they not saying something? The only thing they’re doing is laughing and chanting: Suck it, Flex. Suck it. 

Bobby almost smashes Travis’s head again, if it wasn’t for Lottie who stepped up. “Wow, Bobby. Really manly of you to talk to a girl like that and pick on boys younger than you. Why don’t you pick on someone on your level?” 

As if Lottie wasn’t already tall, she now has knee-high boots that give her a few inches. “You should focus more on soccer. Can’t imagine how hard it is to be destroyed by a girls’ soccer team. It must really hurt your little ego.” Damn, she’s spicy. “Also…we still on for tomorrow after school? Mr. Brown said you need to pass this test or else you’re going to be here for another year. And none of us want a twenty-year-old looking for underage girls in the bathroom stalls.” 

The bell rings. Bobby opens his mouth to say something back but as soon as Lottie raises an eyebrow, he shuts his mouth closed and takes his hands off Travis. 

“You got lucky, Martinez!”

Natalie exhales relieved, leaning down to check on Travis, but before she can, he already storms off, jaw tight and shoulders hunched. She thinks maybe that stupid spider should’ve bitten Lottie instead. She could’ve made a better Spider-Man than her. 

“Pussy,” Bobby mutters, seeing Travis leaving. He then leans closer to Nat’s ear. “Can’t believe you left me for that virgin loser,” he whispers.

Maybe it’s her spider-sense being off and detecting danger that makes her turn around and kick Bobby right in the balls. “At least he still has balls.” 

“It was nice what you did,” Natalie says to Lottie as they’re walking to the subway station. “For Travis. And for me.” 

“I hate guys like Bobby who think they’re better than others. Didn’t do it for Travis.” 

“Then you did it for me.” Natalie smiles.

The ride on the subway was nice. Normal even. They did their usual, sharing a pair of earbuds, listening to Lottie’s music. The Cranberries. Of course. And it was great. When you’re gone was playing, Lottie’s boot tapping to the rhythm, nudging Nat’s knee to make her do this little foot dance they seem to always do on rides. Nat gives in and does it only to get a warm smile in return. 

But then, the song ends and Linger starts playing, making it weird. Nat ignores her phone buzzing on the seat beside her. She turns the screen upside down, taking a quick glance at the—not kidding—thirty-five messages from Van and one from Paul asking her if she wants Lasagna for dinner, but it’s the vegan one. So no, Paul, she doesn’t. 

She likes Paul. She really does, but sometimes he shows that he cares too much and it makes her feel weird because this is temporary, and he only feels pity for her. 

“You know I’m such a fool for you. You got me wrapped around your finger. Do you have to let it linger?” Lottie sings along the lyrics, and Natalie moves her knee that was pressed against Lottie. 

When Lottie’s stop comes, they don’t say goodbye, instead they smile at each other. Lottie does a little wave as she steps out of the subway. Natalie thinks it’s cute that she stopped and thought about it, but she also starts to sweat a bit because this is also her stop. 

She lingers until Lottie takes the stairs. Then, she puts her hood on and rushes to slip through the doors before they close her in. 

“So, where did you say this lab is exactly?”

“You have to see it,” Van says on the other end. “It’s like the biggest building there.” 

Nat rolls her eyes, crouching down to tie her laces when someone identical to Lottie comes out of the bathroom. “Shit.” 

“What? Did something happen?” Van calls. “You already got kicked out?”

“No, idiot,” Nat replies, looking through her bangs in the restroom’s direction. “Fuck. I think Lottie has a date or something.”

There’s some rustling from the other line before: “What?!” 

“Yeah, dude. I swear I saw her leaving the subway station bathroom,” Natalie groans and wipes her eyes with her hoodie sleeve. She’s not crying. It just…hurts. Then she drags herself to the stairs. “She’s probably waiting for her date…”

“Someone sounds hurt.” 

“Eat shit.” 

The ‘Oscorp Industries’ building is probably the biggest one in Midtown Manhattan, situated in a skyscraper that makes Natalie’s neck hurt from looking at it. 

Before she enters the building, she slides her fake glasses on her face, trying to adopt a look that would make her look like an actual nerd. Maybe Van was right, glasses do make you a nerd. 

“Excuse me.” 

“What?” Nat asks, turning to the woman behind the front desk. 

“Can I help you?” 

“Oh-uh,” Natalie walks closer, leaning over the desk. “I’m here to see…” 

Fuck what did Van say his name was? Doctor…doctor who? 

“Dr. Connors. That’s umm—who I’m here for.” 

“Right…” the woman exhales through her nose. What a bitch. “You’ll find yourself to the left.”

Huh? 

“You’re here for the internship?”

“Yeah! Yeah. Yeah.” 

The woman jerks her head to the left. “Okay. You’d find your badge to the left.” 

“Oh.” Natalie takes a sidestep, eyes running over the badges spread on the surface. 

“Are you having trouble finding yourself?” 

“No. No-no-no. Got it!” She smiles, picking the first badge she lands eyes on, holding up for the woman to see. “This is it.”

“Okay, Ms. Rodriguez…?”

Natalie huffs a laugh, “That’s me.” 

“Well. Have fun.”

“Gracias!” 

Welcome to Oscorp. Born from the mind of our founder, Norman Osborn, the Oscorp Tower houses 108 floors of innovation. Our scientific minds are pushing boundaries of defense, biomedical and chemical technologies. The future lies within.

“Welcome to Oscorp!” the too familiar voice says, Natalie not being able to see who’s speaking because of the tall bodies crowding the woman. “I’m Charlotte Matthews, a senior at WHS and head intern to Dr. Connors.” Fuck. So there’s no date. “So I’ll be with you for the duration of your visit.” 

Natalie pushes the glasses sliding down her sweaty, freckled nose. 

“Where I go, you go. That’s the basic rule. If you’ll remember that…all will be fine—“ 

“—Listen! I’m Ms. Rodriguez!” Someone cuts Lottie off from the first floor. 

“Forgetting that…” Lottie chuckles. “Shall we?” She then moves, taking the group into a larger room, a laboratory probably. 

A man with one arm and a half enters once they arrive. “Good afternoon, Charlotte.” 

“Dr. Connors,” she responds back. 

“Welcome. My name is Dr. Curtis Connors. Yes, in case you're wondering, I'm a southpaw. I'm not a cripple. I'm a scientist, and the world's foremost authority on herpetology. That's reptiles, for those of you who don't know. Like the Parkinson's patient who watches on in horror as her body slowly betrays her, or the man with macular degeneration whose eyes grow dimmer each day, I long to fix myself. I want to create a world without weakness,” he pauses. “Anyone care to venture a guess just how?” 

A guy raises his hand. 

“Yes,” Connors says. 

“Sterm cells?” 

Natalie taps the earbud in her ear once. “Van? You hear me?” she murmurs, hiding her mouth with her sleeve. 

“Yes, Nat.” 

“What about the others?”

“Can hear that too.” 

Natalie clears her throat when a guy looks up and down at her. Okay, weirdo…

“Promising,” Connors responds. “But the solution I'm thinking of is more radical.” He scans the group of students surrounding him. “No one?” 

Lottie wants to answer the question but Connors waves her off. “Really? No one?” 

“Cross-species genetics,” Van responds. “Nat. Say what I said. Now!” 

 “Cross-species genetics.” 

Everyone takes a step to the side, leaving Natalie naked to be seen by everyone, including Lottie. 

The brunette’s face frowns, her eyes reading over the clipboard in her hands. 

“Person gets Parkinson's when the brain cells that produce dopamine start to disappear,” Natalie starts, repeating word by word Van says.

Dr. Connors laughs, starting to pace in front of them, hand on his hip. “Continue, please.” 

“…uh. A zebra fish has the ability to regenerate cells on command. If you could give this ability to the woman you're talking about, that's that. She's—“ Van interrupts for a second, so Nat takes the situation in her hands, using the little of her knowledge. “She’s curing herself…”

A smile tugs at the doctor’s lips, and she can only think about thanking Ben for the stupid documentaries he made them watch since 9th grade. 

“And you are...?

“She’s one of Wiskayok’s most interesting people,” Lottie answers for her. 

“Really?” 

Natalie takes a step closer. “I’m first in my class, Sir.” Well that’s Van, but sure. 

“Second.”

“You sure?” Natalie asks. She could swear Van’s better than her…

“Fucking bitch! She’s lying. I’m the first in our class,” Van’s voice cuts through, finally getting their connection back on. “Tell her I’m the best, Nat. Tell her.” 

Dr. Curtis’s phone starts ringing. “Oh, I’m afraid duty calls. I’ll leave you in the more-than-capable hands of Miss Matthews here.” He looks over at Natalie before leaving. “Nice meeting you all.” 

Lottie smiles and nods at something the doctor is whispering. Then, she presses a button and a holographic projection of a spider shows up, leaving Natalie confused as hell. 

“If you'd like to gather round.” 

Welcome to Oscorp's tree of life.Our planet's tree of life is immense. At Oscorp's…

She has to leave and she has to do it fast before anyone picks her up for being too smart. As she slips away carefully, trying her best to not be caught by anyone, someone grabs her by the wrist. 

“What are you doing here, “Rodriguez”?” Lottie asks with a crooked smile.

“What are you doing here?”

“I work here.” 

“I—I don't.” Natalie shakes her head, embarrassed. “I was gonna say I work here, but…it seems like you do actually work here. So you know that I don't.”

Lottie opens her mouth to say something, she closes it, but then: “You following me?”

“No, I'm not following you. I had no idea you worked here.”

Lottie hums. “Then…why are you here?

“I just snuck in because…” she exhales. “I love science.”

“You love it?” 

“I'm passionate about it.” Then, she falls under no pressure. “Okay! Van actually asked me to sneak in here.” 

“Nat! What the hell?!” Van barks loud in her ear.

Nat takes the earbud off her ear, putting it in her pocket to not lose it. 

“Don’t ask why. It’s secret. Even I don’t know,” Natalie lies because what else is she supposed to do? “Also. Van told me to say she’s actually the first in our class.”

Lottie crosses her arms over her chest, looking like she’s about to argue. “So she whispered to you all of that stuff, huh?”

“Yeah. Of course.” Natalie glances past Lottie. “I don’t shit about science.” 

The brunette turns to the tour group for a second. “I have to lead this group. I’ll ask about this later, okay?” Lottie points a finger like she actually means it. “Don’t get me in trouble, Scatorccio.” 

On her way out of the laboratory, she bumps into a tall guy, spilling all his papers on the ground. Natalie crouches down to gather them, stopping in her tracks when she sees a drawing of a spider, DANGEROUS, written big in red ink. 

The man gives her a look, then snatches his papers from her hands. 

What a freak show…

The rest of her trip is normal. She doesn’t know where to go or what to do, but then she sees it. The motherfucker that bit her and turned her into a monster. Natalie wouldn’t have seen the spider if it didn’t crunch under her Converse. When she leans down to inspect the sound, she turns around, being careful not to be seen by anyone as she picks up the smashed spider and puts in a used napkin she found in her jeans. 

“That’s all you found?” Van whisper-asks the next morning, both leaning against their lockers. 

“Yeah. It was a total freak show. I mean,” she huffs a breath. “What the fuck was Lottie doing there? Do you think…she knows?” 

Van looks around to see if there’s anyone surrounding them. The hallway is mostly empty, everyone spilling from their groups to get to their classes. “I don’t think Lottie knows anything. She really just loves science.” 

Natalie hums, pinching her lower lip. “Yeah. You’re right.” 

“Maybe you should contact Dr. Crippled. He might actually help us. Try to keep it simple, though. Don’t tell him you got bitten or anything.” 

Natalie nods. “Okay, now get out of here before Vera Scatorccio sees you,” she jokes. 

“Can’t believe Principal Shitface thinks you are the problem.” 

“I know…” Nat sighs. 

Van pats Natalie on the shoulder before she gets lost in the crowd of hormonal teenagers. Side note: spider-sense comes with better smelling abilities. Which doesn't help when you’re a teenager surrounded by jocks who still haven’t found out what soap and deodorant are. 

“Natalie’s behavior is just unacceptable. I understand she’s going through something, but that doesn’t mean she can be aggressive. We don’t tolerate this kind of behavior. I’m sure you know that, Mr. Scott.”

The Principal’s voice carries through the door. Natalie leans against the wall outside the office, arms crossed. Across from her, Bobby sits with a bag of ice pressed to his crotch.

Who is he fooling?

“Jesus,” she scoffs, shaking her head. Un-fucking-believable. What a stupid joke.

The door opens. Paul steps out, running a hand through his hair, giving Natalie a look that makes her feel guilty.

“He deserved it, Paul,” Natalie protests even though he didn’t seem upset. “Bobby is torturing every single person in this high school.”

“Nat—“

“He fucking beat Travis up. Embarrassed him in front of the whole school!” 

Paul exhales, placing his hands on her shoulders. “Hey. I’m not upset, alright? I just think you could’ve handled it better. That’s all.”

Natalie scoffs, looking away. Yeah…Like she didn’t fucking try.

“Well,” Paul continues, pointing a finger at her, “because of your little escapade, I had to switch shifts. So, now you have to cook dinner for all of us.” 

Natalie rolls her eyes. “Okay, okay. Now get out of here…” She nudges him back, a laugh slipping out despite herself.

Paul’s jaw drops, full offense taken. God, he’s so gay. “I can’t fucking believe this,” he huffs, clutching his chest. “You’re afraid. You’re actually afraid your classmates will find out you live with your coach and his partner.”

“No—Paul…” She exhales, rubbing her face. “Ben and I decided to keep it a secret. For now, at least. It just…makes everything easier.”

Paul frowns, shaking his head as if he’s asking why. 

“Everyone already thinks my mom’s in rehab,” Natalie adds, quieter now. “Being seen with you—as my guardian or whatever—isn’t exactly going to stop the rumors.”

Paul sighs, the tension leaving his shoulders. His hand lingers for a second on Natalie’s arm, thumb brushing lightly like he’s checking she’s actually okay.

“Hey…” his voice softens. “You did the right thing. Travis is lucky to have a friend like you."

Nat nods.

"Next time try to not make a guy infertile."

Natalie snorts under her breath, rolling her eyes, but doesn’t pull away. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll aim higher next time.”

Paul huffs a quiet laugh, shaking his head. For a second, he just looks at her like he wants to say something else. Something heavier. But he lets it go, something catching his attention. His chin jerks past Natalie, eyes narrowing. “She looks familiar.”

Natalie’s stomach drops. Slowly, she turns her head—and there’s Lottie. Standing a few feet away, pretending to read something on her phone when Natalie looks at her.

Shit.

“She’s the girl on your computer…” 

Natalie’s eyes widen, shaking her head. “Paul—”

“She has you on your computer!” he blurts. Then, as the bitch he is, he leaves. 

She follows him a few steps but then turns, faking a laugh that sounds more awkward than ever. "He's lying..."

"Ow, man. You don't have me on your computer?"

"Yeah. I mean, I have the whole team."

“Wow! Natalie Scatorccio loves her team?” 

“Nah. It was—It was Van and Jackie. They made me have it as my wallpaper after I lost a bet.” 

Lottie hums, grinning like she’s not believing a word. 

“And-and I was touching some stuff up for the school’s newsletter. Y’know? The article Shauna’s working on…about the team.”

The brunette’s eyebrows shot up. “You were touching up some stuff?” 

“Come on, I was—I was” Natalie laughs, scratching the back of her neck, nervously. “I’m not going to answer that.” 

They continue to laugh, Lottie swinging on her feet, books in her hand. She doesn’t even bat an eye to her cellphone that’s been exploding with messages. 

“Soo, did you get expelled?” Lottie asks.

“Nuh-uh. I got community service.”

“That’s nice,” Lottie says, nodding.

“Yeah. Better than getting expelled.”

Lottie chuckles, turning back to look down the hall. It was empty, no one waiting for her. Which is good, right? That means she’s available to talk.

“So you want to…” Natalie scratches behind her ear. “I don't know…?”

“Want to what?”

“I don't know. Just...uh—we could…”

Lottie bites her lower lip, eyes widening, waiting for Nat to finally say something other than “uh,”s and “umm”s.

“We could do something else, or we could…”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, either one.” Lottie presses her book against her chest.

This is easy. Maybe Van is actually right. Once in her lifetime. “Really?” 

“Mhm.”

“Okay. Cool!” 

“Cool,” Lottie drags the word, looking past Natalie. 

“I can't right now, though. I’m like, so busy right now.”

The brunette rolls her eyes. “Yeah, ugh. I know. Me too.” 

“Yeah, just, you know…” Natalie coughs, clearing her voice. “Some other—“

“Time,” Charlotte finishes for her.  

Nat’s phone buzzes against the fabric of her jeans. “Sorry,” she excuses herself, checking who is calling her.

Jackie. 

Woah. Wait—what? She has to rub her eyes once and stare again to make sure. Natalie can’t believe Jackie is her saviour, saving her from this awkward but somehow nice conversation. “Captain is calling me. She’s going through uh—a crisis…”

“Oh, trust me, I know,” Lottie shows the screen of her phone, filled with messages from Shauna. 

That’s kind of cute. How Lottie is Shauna buddy and she’s Jackie’s. “Soo. It’s settled, right?”

Lottie hums. 

“Alright. Bye then,” Nat raises her hand in a lame goodbye gesture while Lottie does this weird spin, almost robotic, using the book in her hand too. After that, Natalie continues to watch Lottie walking down the hallway.