I’m Not Becoming Spider-Man - Chapter 21: Back to School (Patreon)

Peter slid into the seat beside Thompson and held out his camera. “All right, Flash. You're definitely getting a spot in the school paper. Take a look and tell me which pictures you want us to use.”

“Hmm... This one's good. Oh, this one too... Can't you just print all of them?!”

“That would be a bit much. If you want keepsakes, I can print extra copies for you later. You can even hang them on your wall.” Peter scrolled through the photos on the camera for him.

“Let's see... This one, and that one...” Thompson went through them with surprising care. “No way, that one's embarrassing... Oh, make sure you print a few extra copies of this one.”

“Got it. You'll be seeing yourself in the school newspaper in a few days.”

“Heh, heh.”

Peter was just getting up when Thompson caught him by the arm and pulled him back. “What's up?” Peter asked.

“Not so fast, little guy.” Thompson dragged him back into his seat, slung an arm around his shoulders, and leaned closer. “Is Mary Jane your girlfriend?”

“Uh, I don't think so... We're just pretty close.”

“Come on, Peter! Don't talk like that. You've got a perfect chance here! Can't you tell she's into you? A man can't keep hesitating like that. Go get laid already!”

Peter rolled his eyes. “Why don't you worry about finding yourself a girlfriend? Or are you still planning to chase after Mary Jane?”

“If you want her, I'm not going to steal your girl. Actually, Betty from the cheerleading squad isn't bad either. Want me to introduce you? Maybe she'll go for a nerd like you. Oh, wait, I get it.” Thompson rubbed his chin, apparently taking Peter's love life quite seriously. “You like Gwen better, don't you? She's pretty good too, though she's not as hot as Mary Jane.”

“Thompson, do you have a computer at home?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Do you use it much?”

“What would I use it for? It's mostly for my dad's work.”

“I see...” Peter tore a sheet from his notebook and scribbled down a website address. He handed it to Thompson and patted his shoulder. “A young man ought to pay attention to these things. Type that address into your computer when you get home. You'll get a nice surprise.”

Thompson scratched his head. What was that supposed to mean?

With Thompson dealt with, Peter headed toward the back of the bus. Harley reached out to him and groaned, “It hurts so much... Peter...”

“Then get some rest. If it's that bad, take a few days off school. Gwen and I can come visit you.”

“That sounds nice...”

“We'll bring you all the homework you missed, too,” Gwen added.

“On second thought, never mind...”

The school bus finally brought everyone back to Midtown High. By the time they reached the front gates, classes were already letting out, so at least they'd returned in time for dismissal.

Gwen had barely started down the bus steps when she recoiled as though she'd touched a live wire.

“What's wrong, Gwen?” Peter asked, climbing down after her. Then he spotted a police car parked outside the school gates.

“That stupid dad of mine!” Gwen muttered through gritted teeth. Mary Jane looked out as she stepped off the bus. “Is that your father?”

“Oh... I wish I could tell you he wasn't.”

“Well, he's come to pick you up. You might as well go with him,” Mary Jane said.

“No way! I'd rather go home by myself. Besides...” Gwen trailed off.

How humiliating! She was in high school already, and her father was still coming right to the school gate to collect her! Worse, he'd brought a police car. Could he possibly make himself any more conspicuous?

“What's there to think about? School's over.” Mary Jane took Gwen by the arm and led her off the bus.

George had been waiting for some time, leaning against the police car with his arms folded. He straightened as Gwen approached and gave her companions a thorough once-over. Years of police work let him form a quick impression of their character.

He had met them briefly the last time he'd come to collect Gwen, but that didn't mean he was especially fond of her friends. They'd talked his daughter into going to a party, after all. Who knew whether their intentions were good?

“Uh, what should I call you? Gwen's dad?” Peter asked.

“George is fine. Just call me George.”

“Oh... Wait, aren't you George Stacy, the commissioner of the NYPD?” Harley asked. Peter was still helping her stand.

“You really do seem to know something about everyone, Harley,” Peter remarked.

“Uh... I saw you on TV...” Harley could hardly admit she'd met him at a social function her mother had dragged her to.

“All right, boys and girls,” George called. “Gwen's going home now.”

“Don't say it like that!” Gwen seized his arm and hauled him toward the police car before he could embarrass her further by talking to her friends.

“See you tomorrow, Gwen!” Peter called, waving.

“See you tomorrow!” she called back before getting into the car with George.

The windows rolled up, and the police car pulled away. Gwen glanced back at her friends, then folded her arms and fixed her father with an angry stare.

George caught her expression in the rearview mirror. “Your friends seem all right.”

“Oh my God! I'm perfectly capable of getting home by myself! You're making me... You're embarrassing me! Don't you get it?”

“What's embarrassing about it? I'm the police commissioner, Gwen. Besides, what were you doing today?”

“I'm on the school newspaper staff. Our football team had a game, so we rode along on the team bus.”

“That sounds nice. I played football myself in high school. How did the game go?”

“Fine, I guess. Nothing special.” Gwen had no desire to discuss the match.

“What do you mean, nothing special? Didn't you watch it? Nothing interesting happened?”

“Do I have to tell you every little thing?”

“Gwen, I'm your father. What is there that you can't tell me?”

“Please! All I want is a little space of my own!” Gwen snapped. “Starting tomorrow, I'm going home by myself!”

“Hey, absolutely not. When I've got the time, I can drive you. It's safer, and it's much faster. Do you really want to walk all that way and then spend ages on the subway?”

“It's my business! Stay out of it!”

“Gwen! How can you talk to me like that?” George demanded.

“When have you ever cared about what I want? You're always ordering me around. I don't want you controlling my life!”

“How can you say I don't care? I left work halfway through my shift just to come pick you up!”

“Did I ask you to?! I could have gotten home on my own! You decided all this yourself!”

“Enough!” George drew several deep breaths. “Maybe I should cut off your allowance. You're still a child who doesn't understand a thing.”

“I'm not a child anymore! You're the only one who still treats me like one!”