I’m Not Becoming Spider-Man - Chapter 31: The Persuader (Patreon)

George knew he might be acting a little oversensitive, but he still felt he ought to keep an eye on things. He considered himself a fairly open-minded father, yet there was no way he would let his daughter lose her way or be swept off her feet by some boy who had appeared out of nowhere.

He climbed into his patrol car without driving away. Instead, he watched the boy from inside.

Wasn't that the same boy from before? Was this really going to be all right?

“Do you have time today?” Harley asked. “I can show you the apartment. It's really close to here.”

“Don't get me started, Harley. My dad is such a fossil. He actually refuses to let me share an apartment. I don't understand him at all.”

“Um, maybe you could ask Peter to help?”

“What could he do about it?”

“I feel like Peter can do anything. If anyone can make it work, he can.”

“All right, I'll ask him later. Maybe he'll have a good idea.” Gwen looked over her shoulder. Her father's patrol car was still there. Only when George noticed her turning around did he roll up the window and prepare to leave.

“He has no sense of boundaries. When is he going to realize I'm grown up?”

“Um... I actually think it's kind of nice,” Harley admitted.

Sure, she would probably be embarrassed to have a parent drop her off at school, too. But if Norma personally drove her every morning and showed that much concern for her, wouldn't that be nice?

What was she thinking? Forget it.

Norma didn't care about her. Harley probably mattered less to her mother than the money tree she'd bought in Chinatown and put outside the entrance to the company.

All Norma ever thought or talked about was work, work, work. Just thinking about her left Harley miserable.

The two girls entered the classroom wearing equally sour expressions.

“Who upset you two?” Peter asked. “Harley, did Thompson start picking on you again?”

“No, nothing like that.” Harley's gloomy expression vanished at the sight of him. “Did you talk to Aunt May about the apartment?”

“Yeah. They agreed, but I'll have to go home on weekends and spend time with them. Mary Jane will be coming over, too. You don't mind, do you?”

“Of course not! But Gwen seems to be having some trouble.”

“I can guess what happened.” What else could it be? Another argument between father and daughter, most likely.

“So what do you think, Harley?”

“Huh? M-me?”

“Yeah, you.”

“Um... I'm fine with whatever you decide.”

“Come on, give me a straight answer. It's not like I'm asking anything weird. Do you want Gwen to move in or not?”

“Well, if I had to choose...” Harley hesitated.

It would be good to have Gwen there, but if Gwen didn't come, wouldn't Harley get to spend all that time alone with Peter?

How was she supposed to choose?

“How about we draw straws?” Peter suggested.

“Okay. That works.”

He tore several narrow strips of paper and held them out in his fist. “Short means yes, long means no. It's your place, after all, and I don't want everyone living together if it'll just make things uncomfortable.”

“Okay!” Harley immediately pulled a strip. But the instant her fingers closed around it, she realized what she really wanted.

As much as she liked Gwen, Peter mattered more to her. If she could have her way, she'd draw a long one...

It was short.

“All right. I'll go talk Gwen's dad into it, then,” Peter said.

“Sure. Um, good luck, Peter.”

He nodded and approached Gwen. “From the look on your face, your father upset you again?”

“Did Harley tell you?” Gwen rested her chin on her hand, still thoroughly dejected. “You know how he is. He's just...”

She launched into all her usual complaints, airing one grievance after another until class was over. Peter listened until she'd finally run out of steam. “All right. Would you mind if I met him?”

“You'd better prepare yourself!”

“I will. Your dad really is awful. He should give you more freedom. You're an adult, after all.”

“Exactly! That's what I've been saying!” Gwen started up again.

There was no point putting off what he could do today. If Peter was going to persuade George on Gwen's behalf, he might as well go now.

He decided to bring Mary Jane along.

“Hah? Why drag me into this? I don't want to help her.”

“Who said I need your help? Peter's enough.” Gwen wasn't happy about Mary Jane coming, either.

“First, I'm a guy, right?” Peter began.

“Obviously.”

“Of course.”

“And Gwen's a girl, right?”

“Without question.”

“Definitely.”

“If I show up at Gwen's house alone, her dad will probably put a gun against my forehead,” Peter explained. “That's why I'm bringing Mary Jane, to make the visit seem less suspicious. No protective father wants to see his daughter bring home a boy by himself.”

“You actually considered that?”

“Well, he does have a point, Gwen,” Mary Jane said. “Don't worry. I'll be generous today.”

“...” Gwen gave her a thoroughly unimpressed look.

After school, Gwen led the two of them home. She lived in a pleasant, ordinary apartment in the middle of downtown, surrounded by tall buildings.

“Sit down for a bit. I'll get you something to drink.”

Peter took a seat as instructed, but Mary Jane wandered around the room. A framed family photograph stood on a cabinet. Gwen was just a little girl in it.

“Hold on,” Peter asked suddenly. “Who does the cooking around here?”

“Uh... I guess... nobody?” Gwen returned carrying a couple of cans of Coke.

Peter fell silent. Then he checked the time. “Right. I saw a supermarket on the way here. I'm going to run out for a little while. I'll be back within half an hour.”

“Okay.” Gwen watched him leave, then settled onto the couch with a soda and turned on the television. At least some background noise would make the quiet apartment feel less empty.

Mary Jane sat down too. She helped herself to a can, took a long drink, and asked, “Are you usually home alone?”

“Isn't it obvious? I could invite a whole crowd over for a party and nobody would complain.”

“Must be nice. I couldn't do that at my house,” Mary Jane replied.

“Your house is near Peter's, isn't it? That's still better than my situation. I can't just walk a little way and find a friend.”

“To be precise, I live right next door to him.”