I’m Not Becoming Spider-Man - Chapter 18: The Football Game (Patreon)

“I'm not saying it's your fault, Peter,” Gwen said, letting out a frustrated sigh. “You know what my dad's like. He's so old-fashioned and stubborn. He blew up at me just because I went to a party.”

“I can sort of understand where he's coming from. Maybe it's because you didn't tell him beforehand?”

“Oh my God, Peter. I'm already old enough to get a driver's license. Do I really need his permission for something like that?”

“You still have to get home afterward, Gwen,” Peter pointed out. “Being out at night can be dangerous, especially for a girl.”

“Then you could take me home, Peter.”

“I have a driver's license, but I don't own a car. The best I could do is walk you to the subway station. If I went all the way to your house, I'd have to walk home until morning.”

“Maybe I could spend the night at your place instead?”

“Uh, spare me. I've already got Harley staying over. If you came, you'd be stuck on the couch downstairs, and it's not comfortable.”

“What about Mary Jane?”

“She lives nearby. No matter how late she stays out, she can get home easily.”

“Lucky her. Maybe I'll stay at her place next time.”

“Uh, you'd have to ask her. Though I don't think that's a great idea.” Peter gave her a look. “Aren't you two on bad terms?”

“Not that bad. Mary Jane isn't quite as awful as people make her out to be. She certainly knows how to argue.”

“Let's hope she doesn't hear you say that, or you'll have another argument.” Peter shrugged.

None of the three paid much attention in class. Peter and Gwen could afford to slack off thanks to their excellent grades, while Harley simply couldn't concentrate.

“Peter? Peter?”

“What is it, Harley?” Peter looked up from the little gadget he'd been tinkering with.

“That thing you made, the shock device... If we modified it and wore it on our hands, could we keep firing electric shocks?”

“In theory, sure. What are you thinking?”

“Well, if we made ourselves some cool outfits, couldn't we be superheroes like Batman?” Harley was already getting carried away imagining it. “Our shock devices wouldn't even be guns, and I could provide a car. You've got a driver's license, so we could get around and move into action really easily...”

“The Green Hornet?”

“What?”

“Uh, I mean, if we're already going around electrocuting people, would having a driver's license really matter?”

“Hmm...”

“Listen, Harley, comics are comics. I'll tell you a bit about what I'm drawing for the next issue,” Peter said. “Batman's secret identity is Bruce Wayne, a fabulously wealthy playboy. He has a professional support team, exceptional training, intimate knowledge of every corner of his city, and incredibly powerful equipment...

“And most importantly, he has an army of lawyers who could get him acquitted if he ever got arrested.”

“Oh my God! You mean one of those ridiculously rich guys is secretly a superhero who fights evil? That's amazing!” Harley only grew more excited.

“No, no. What I'm saying is that we don't have anything close to his resources.” Peter patted her shoulder. “Besides, New York is still a pretty peaceful city. The police are doing their jobs, the gangs are hiding in the shadows like rats, and there aren't any supervillains. There isn't any need for superheroes.”

At least, that was true for now. Who knew how completely New York might change in the future?

“If you go around shocking people, somebody's going to call the police and you'll get arrested. That's the police's job, not ours. Forget about it.”

“Fine...” Harley looked disappointed. Still, a tiny spark had already caught fire deep inside her.

“Anyway, Harley, we've got a lot to do today. First, we need to test-print the new edition of the school newspaper with the comic in it. And then there's the football game. Our school's playing a friendly match against the private high school nearby.

“We're in the newspaper club. We ought to take some pictures, right?”

“We're going to watch football? All right, I'll come with you, Peter. Even though I'm not really interested.”

That afternoon, the group skipped the rest of their classes and took the school bus to the game.

On the bus, Peter suddenly took Harley by the wrist. She jumped in surprise, but before she could decide what to say, he'd already led her over to Thompson.

“Hey, Thompson!”

“Peter... What do you want?” Thompson looked distinctly displeased.

“Don't look so gloomy, man. This is your first official game.” Peter clapped him on the shoulder and held up the camera hanging from his neck. “How cool would it be to have a photo of you holding up the ball after a win in the school paper? Right, Harley?”

“Uh... Huh?”

Peter nudged her with his elbow.

“Oh! Right, right! Good luck, Thompson! You've got to win!”

“Hmph. I'll win whether you tell me to or not. I was already a championship star back in middle school. I don't need the two of you to cheer me on!” Thompson said coldly.

“Then good luck. We'll be waiting to hear about your big victory, superstar.” Peter led Harley back to their seats.

“What was that supposed to be? We went over there to cheer him on, and he treats us like that!” Harley complained.

“You don't get it, Harley. He's thrilled. Inside, he's grinning from ear to ear, but he has to pretend he doesn't care. He wants to look completely cool about it. Know what I mean?”

“I think I sort of understand... Uh, are you sure?”

“Absolutely. Just watch him during the game.”

“What are you two talking about?” Mary Jane asked from her seat.

“The football game,” Peter answered. Mary Jane had no particular interest in it, but she was a member of the newspaper club. He wouldn't have forced her to come if she didn't want to.

The problem was something else.

“You went over to that giant idiot Thompson?” Gwen asked. “Since when are you two such good friends?”

Mary Jane glanced irritably at Gwen, who was seated beside her. If she hadn't needed to keep an eye on this little man-stealer, she never would have bothered coming.

“I get along with him all right,” Peter said. After all, they'd fought a few times by now. “He's just an immature teenager with terrible judgment and not much going on upstairs. You're a bit better.”

“Huh? What's that supposed to mean, Peter? Do you want me to hit you?”

“Sure, once you manage to get out of that seat.” Peter laughed and returned to his place with Harley.

Gwen had been trapped against the window by Mary Jane, who occupied the aisle seat.

Mary Jane could always pester Peter at dinnertime, but Gwen wouldn't have many opportunities to see him once school was out. If Mary Jane could tie Gwen up during school activities, she'd already won more than half the battle!

She might not be able to chase her off with dirty tricks, but surely she could at least get in the way.

...

The bus arrived at the other school, and everyone climbed down.

“Wow, private schools sure know how to make an impression.” Peter surveyed the enormous entrance, which looked more like the gate of a university, and snapped a couple of pictures.

“Uh... It's not really that great...” Harley looked at the gate and instinctively moved behind Peter.

“Come on, standing around here gawking is rude,” Mary Jane said. “Let's get inside.”

The four followed the football team onto the grounds. Midtown High was an excellent public school, but even so, it couldn't quite compete with an elite institution built with seemingly unlimited money.

At Midtown, students dressed however they liked. Here, everyone wore matching uniforms, giving the whole campus a tidier appearance. Students lined the fences on both sides, staring at the visitors as though they were animals at a zoo.

Harley kept herself tucked into the crowd, looking distinctly uncomfortable.

“What's wrong, Harley?” Peter asked.

“Nothing. I'm fine... I'm just... not used to so many people staring at me.” Harley shook her head.

“Okay, but if something's bothering you, tell me, buddy. Don't keep it to yourself.” He nudged her gently with his elbow.

“Oh... okay. I will, Peter. I promise.”

The newspaper club accompanied the team to its assigned area. The players had barely arrived before they were sent to the locker room to change for the game.

“This is completely unfair!” one of the boys complained. “Why do we have to play the moment we get here? They're already out on the field waiting for us! Look, they haven't even provided any water. Don't tell me they can't afford it. They're looking down on us!”

“Cut it out, Simon,” Thompson said. “Let's show those guys what we're capable of. If they think we're pushovers, they've got another thing coming!”

Once they'd changed into their gear, the Midtown players took the field. Thompson's broad, towering figure was especially conspicuous. He glanced around.

A private school really was different. They even had tiered spectator stands, which were already filling with people eager to watch. Football was a hugely popular sport around here.

Both teams lined up, and after a brief exchange with the referee, the announcer gestured grandly toward one side.

“Phillips High!”

“WOOOO!” The home students erupted in cheers, their voices booming from every direction.

“Midtown High School!” the announcer called, introducing the visitors.

The cheering stopped instantly. The stadium went cold and quiet, except for a few scattered laughs. The Midtown players' spirits sank. The veterans could shrug it off, but the newer players were visibly discouraged.

“LET'S GO, MIDTOWN! YOU'VE GOT THIS! WIN IT!”

In that sudden silence, a lone male voice rang out unmistakably.

Peter was cheering at the top of his lungs. All by himself.

Harley tugged at his shirt. This was mortifying! They were in the opposing team's stadium, surrounded by students who were already staring at them as if they were a joke. Wasn't he just making himself a spectacle?

“COME ON! GIVE IT EVERYTHING YOU'VE GOT!” Gwen shouted beside him.

“Uh...”

Peter patted Harley's shoulder. “It's fine if you don't want to shout. I'll cheer enough for both of us.”

“Uh... G-go... GO, MIDTOWN!”

The Phillips students burst into laughter, and Harley desperately wanted the ground to swallow her. Yet Peter and Gwen remained completely unbothered.

“Oh my God... How can you two...?”

“I've been laughed at for being a weirdo plenty of times. People who do that are just immature, Harley.” Peter shrugged.

“I guess it's a lot like going up onstage to accept an award,” Gwen mused. Being a beautiful girl, she was used to attracting attention, and not all of it was friendly. Back in middle school, some classmates had even stuffed garbage into her desk.

“Uh...”

“Wait here a second,” Peter said. He headed toward the edge of the field, where both teams had already taken their positions.

“Hey, Flash!”

Thompson, positioned among the offensive players, looked over.

Peter gave him a thumbs-up. Thompson froze for a moment, then grinned and thumped his chest twice with his left fist.

Peter raised his camera and captured the moment.

TWEEEEET!

At the referee's whistle, a cluster of big, burly players surged toward the football.

Peter knew almost nothing about football formations, offense, or defense. He didn't really understand the sport, but watching it was still exciting.

When he returned to the front row of the stands, he realized somebody had been missing almost from the start. “Where's Mary Jane?”

“Oh... I thought she'd gone to the bathroom...” Gwen looked around, finally noticing the same thing. “God, she shouldn't be wandering around here by herself. I'll go find her.”

“Hang on. Let me call her first.” Peter hurriedly dialed Mary Jane's number.

“What's up, Peter?”

“Where did you go, Mary Jane? This isn't our neighborhood.”

“Are you worried about me, Peter?”

“I'd better find out you're just hiding in a bathroom waiting for me to call, and not roaming around on your own. The Phillips students haven't exactly been friendly to us.”

“Relax, Peter. I'll be back soon. You know I can look after myself.”

“I hope so. Call me if anything happens.”

Whatever had gotten Mary Jane to leave Peter alone long enough for him to be with Gwen must have been important indeed.

“Mmm, your concern tastes so sweet, Peteeer!”

Peter hung up before she finished. “All right. She's fine. Let's just hope she doesn't cause trouble.”

“Are you sure?” Gwen asked. “Why does she always have to make everything difficult?”

“It's fine, Gwen. I trust her.” Compared with most people, Mary Jane was actually pretty calm and mature... except when it came to him. He could generally count on her.

“Oh, what's that over there?” Peter had only just put the matter of Mary Jane's disappearance aside when something else caught his eye. At the other end of the front row stood two people who looked like reporters. One was a particularly striking woman with short hair.

“They look like they're from the Daily Bugle... They actually send people to a high-school football game?”

“You recognize them, Harley?” Peter asked.

“Uh... A little.” Harley scratched her head. They looked vaguely familiar, as though she'd seen them at the Daily Bugle before, but she couldn't remember their names.

“Well, we might have dealings with them someday. Let's hope we don't embarrass ourselves and end up in the Daily News.”

“I doubt we'd get more than a tiny mention,” Gwen said. “Dr. Connors's latest research seems much more newsworthy to me.”

“That's what you don't understand, Gwen. Most people can't make sense of scientific research. But anybody can recognize a touchdown when they see one.”