Spider-Man - Chapter 8: G-Good Buddies? (Patreon)

"We're here, Harley."

An understated sedan pulled up outside Midtown High School. Harley Osborn climbed out with an irritated expression. "My classmates are going to laugh at me for this."

"Why would they? You're Norma Osborn's daughter. Hold your head up. Even if you're utterly useless, you should still be proud of having me as your mother." A beautifully dressed woman stepped out from behind the wheel. Her cool, commanding face suggested that disagreement was not an option. Mother and daughter attracted plenty of attention at the school gates.

"Oh my God..."

Harley was beginning to think transferring to Midtown High had been a mistake.

She couldn't stand the atmosphere at private schools, though. After weighing her options, she'd chosen this fairly well-regarded public high school instead.

But her mother, who hardly ever paid her any attention, had actually insisted on driving her here on her first day!

For heaven's sake, how old was Harley now? Did anyone else here still need their parents to drop them off?

Her face burned with embarrassment.

"It's your first day. If there's something you don't understand, you can ask me. Got it?" Norma said. Then she examined her daughter's appearance with obvious dissatisfaction. "And look at the state of you. You don't look like a girl at all."

"I know. I'm going in!" Harley hurried to escape her infuriating mother.

"If you run short of money, just ask me."

"There you go again!" Harley shouted. Money, money, money. Was that the only thing her mother could ever give her?

"Harley! Is that any way to speak to me?"

The atmosphere grew tense again. Harley turned on her heel and marched into the school without another word.

"..."

Norma watched her daughter disappear through the entrance. Only when Harley glanced back did Norma, her expression still cold, climb into the car and drive away.

Not long after the sedan left, a police cruiser pulled up at the school.

"Oh my God, Dad! I told you I could come by myself. Look around. Who else gets dropped off by their parents?" Gwen complained as she got out.

"Hey, I was going this way anyway," said George Stacy. Tall and broad-shouldered in his police uniform, he stepped out of the cruiser and opened the door. "Besides, I've driven you here before. What's there to be worried about?"

"Fine, fine. But tomorrow I'm coming on my own."

"Sure. But before you go?" George opened his arms, waiting expectantly for a goodbye hug.

"Oh my God..." Gwen could almost feel everyone staring. Nevertheless, she gave him a quick hug, snatched up her backpack, and practically fled.

"Stupid Dad," she muttered. Now someone was bound to make fun of her.

"Ha! Your mommy drove you to school? What, did she pack a baby bottle too?"

Gwen flinched at the mocking voice, only to realize it wasn't aimed at her. Turning around, she spotted a handsome but slender student with short, dark-brown hair being harassed by a large boy and his hangers-on.

Who else could the bully be but Flash Thompson?

Gwen frowned and was about to step in, but someone got there first.

"Hey, Thompson! Didn't your mother teach you that bullying people is wrong?" Peter called, letting out a sharp whistle that drew every eye toward him.

It was an unexpected sight. Peter was a weirdo who deliberately kept other people at arm's length. He normally avoided everyone, so seeing him take the initiative surprised the onlookers.

"Well, look at that! The little string bean finally grew a backbone!" Thompson burst out laughing. "Get out of Flash Thompson's way, you freak!"

He cracked his neck and knuckles before looming over Peter. His hulking frame made an intimidating sight.

The students around them actually cheered. Peter would never understand people who encouraged bullying for entertainment.

"Here's a tip," Peter said. "When it's time to throw a punch, stop running your mouth."

Without another word, he drove an elbow into the stomach Thompson had so obligingly presented to him.

"Aaargh!" Thompson howled. Before he could recover, Peter landed a side kick that sent him clutching his body and crashing into the lockers.

Thompson clearly hadn't expected his target to strike first. Normally, his size was enough to intimidate other students, and a couple of punches would finish the job if they resisted. Hardly anyone dared fight back at all, which made bullying easy for him.

"Ugh... All right! You want a fight? Then come on!" Thompson shouted, his pain turning to anger.

"Still don't get it? Fighting me won't do you any good. Maybe I shouldn't have held back."

Peter's blows had landed on vulnerable spots. Without a little restraint, he could have sent Thompson straight to the hospital.

He was prepared to keep fighting if necessary. Taking off his glasses, Peter patted Harley on the shoulder. "Buddy, hold these for me."

"O-okay..." Harley accepted them. Watching Peter stand up for her with such confidence, she couldn't help thinking he looked incredibly cool.

Peter squared off against Thompson. The bigger boy spread his arms wide, looking like a football player bracing to block him, while Peter raised his fists and adopted a Sanda fighting stance.

"Hey! What's going on here? What's all this?" The school security guards had noticed the disturbance and hurried over to investigate.

At this school, the guards still commanded enough authority to put an immediate stop to a confrontation. The crowd scattered.

"All right, buddy. We'll settle this another time." Peter held out his fist to Thompson. "Next time, remember my name. Peter. Peter Yang Parker. I'm not some string bean... although those are pretty tasty."

"All right, all right!" Thompson wasn't happy about it, but he still bumped fists with Peter. Then he called to Harley, "And you, remember the name Thompson! My nickname's Flash!"

With that, he slunk away.

"Oh... wow... You're... you're amazing..." Harley approached with Peter's glasses, admiration shining in her eyes. "Was that... kung fu?"

"That's a stereotype. It was just Sanda, nothing terribly mysterious. You can find a martial arts school if you're interested. I'd avoid taekwondo, though." Peter shrugged and took back his glasses, as relaxed as if nothing had happened.

Peter only looked scrawny because he had a small frame. Under his shirt, he had an eight-pack as hard as stone.

He wasn't the helpless, weak-kneed nerd everyone seemed to imagine.

Thompson, for his part, was simply a big kid who relied on his physical advantages to bully smaller ones. Put him up against someone who actually knew how to fight, and that size advantage stopped being quite so impressive.

"I'm..." Peter began.

"Peter," Harley finished for him. "I heard you say it."

"Well, then I guess I don't have to introduce myself."

"I'm Harley," she said.

"Oh! So it's you..." Peter suddenly thought he understood. This had to be Harry, Peter Parker's rich best friend!

Granted, the person in front of him looked rather different from the versions he'd seen in comics, unusually slight and almost feminine. But there were countless comic universes, and Peter couldn't recognize every variation. Whoever this was, he was surely destined to be Peter's good buddy.

"Huh?" Harley froze. Did he already know who she was?

"I mean... Gwen?" Peter realized that his reaction sounded strange. Who greeted someone they'd just met with 'So it's you'? He hurriedly turned toward the other familiar face.

"Oh, so you finally remembered I exist?" Gwen was leaning against the lockers, apparently having watched the whole exchange for quite some time.