I’m Not Becoming Spider-Man - Chapter 38: The Tenant (Patreon)

Besides the original four, Mary Jane, ever the social butterfly, had invited Hardy and Cindy. Peter had talked it over with Harley and invited Thompson as well. With so many people gathered in one place, the celebration grew lively in no time.

“Come on, I'm the drummer, and there aren't any drums here,” Gwen protested. “Unless you're volunteering your backside as a percussion instrument?”

Everyone burst out laughing. Harley wasn't offended in the slightest. “Ask Thompson or Peter instead. I think they've both got bigger butts than I do.”

“Good Lord, what have I walked into?” Peter had barely returned when he heard that remark. The expression on his face was impossible to describe.

“They were saying your butt would make a great drum,” Thompson explained, throwing an arm around Peter's shoulders. “And I've got to agree, buddy.”

“Uh, yours looks bigger to me, Thompson.” Peter gave Flash a hard smack on the rear, making him jump.

“Hey, Peter! Didn't know you were into guys.”

“Fuck off. I'm straight. You're the one who's gay, Flash!”

“I'm straight! You're gay!”

“...” Quentina watched them trade insults like two small children, utterly speechless.

“Peter, where did you find this new friend?” Mary Jane asked quickly, sensing a potential threat.

“Hold on, Flash. I'll mess with you later.” Peter waved toward Quentina, then put an arm around Harley's shoulders and led her onto the balcony. “There's a woman interested in renting a room. You're the owner here, Harley, so you should make the decision.”

“Oh, don't make it so complicated. Whatever you think is fine.” Harley seemed utterly unconcerned.

“Harley, you should pay at least a little attention. What if I did something dishonest behind your back? Embezzled your money or something?”

“It's fine, Peter. I trust you. If you really need money, I could, um... hire you as my butler. Would that work?”

“Forget it. I'll handle the paperwork, but could you at least look it over afterward?”

“I know, I know. I can relax when you're taking care of things.”

After that conversation, Peter returned to Quentina and handed her the application. “Take a seat. I'll get you some water.”

“Thank you.” Quentina studied him carefully. For all his youth, he seemed dependable.

Peter settled her at the dining table. Across the room, the girls were dividing up the cake.

“Hey, Peter...” Thompson approached, looking nervous and awkward. “There's something I wanted to ask...”

“What's wrong? Got yourself into trouble?”

“Uh... I was thinking I might rent a room here, too. You know, my team has practice, and living nearby would save me...” Thompson stumbled through the speech he'd rehearsed beforehand.

“Sure, Flash. I'll bring you an application. Fill it out and we'll take it from there. You do realize the building belongs to Harley, right?”

“I know. I know...” Thompson's face reddened. “That's why I came to you.”

Peter was much easier to approach than Harley. Thompson still remembered Peter taking the initiative to talk to him, while nearly every earlier encounter with Harley had turned into a fight.

They had spoken more pleasantly since then, but he still felt closer to Peter.

“Don't worry. I'll speak to Harley,” Peter reassured him. “But you do need to get that temper of yours under control, Thompson. I'll see what I can arrange. You've got nothing to panic about, buddy.”

“I will.”

“One more thing. I hope you've discussed this with your family. Harley might discount some utilities, but you'll still owe rent. That isn't easy for a student. I really hope you've talked it through at home. We're friends, and that's exactly why we need to be clear about the bills. If money becomes a problem, tell us. We can work out a solution together, okay?”

“Okay, okay. I understand, Peter.” Thompson was almost dizzy with relief. He hadn't expected the conversation to go so smoothly.

It was easy to talk to Peter. He explained everything clearly instead of leaving Thompson guessing. Flash accepted a form and started filling out his personal details.

Before long, both applicants had finished. Peter collected their forms and brought them to Harley.

“Have a look. This one belongs to the lady who came by, and this is Flash's.”

“Wait, Flash?”

“Yeah. He'd like to move in, too. Same rent as everyone else.”

Mary Jane and Gwen both paid rent, so nobody was exempt. Harley didn't charge much, but Peter knew that even a modest sum could be difficult for a student.

“That's fine. You decide.” Harley stared at the forms for a while without understanding why half the information was necessary, then cheerfully handed the responsibility back to him.

What could she do? Peter was simply too useful.

“Knew you'd say that. Now, this Quentina Beck...” Peter paused. “Huh?”

The name seemed strangely familiar, setting off a faint itch in the back of his mind. Where had he heard it before?

“What's the matter?” Harley examined the application. It listed the woman's employment history as well as an address and contact number for her workplace. Those details made it noticeably different from Thompson's form.

They were false, of course. Quentina was so afraid of being rejected that she'd invented a workplace. If Peter called the number, a recording she'd prepared would answer. Maybe that would be enough to fool him.

Harley looked toward the applicant. A purple sweater clung to Quentina's curvy figure. She wore glasses, and her thick hair was barely groomed. Beside energetic girls like Gwen and Mary Jane, she looked positively gloomy, with dark circles beneath her eyes and exhaustion written all over her face.

She reminded Harley of the fat black cat her grandmother kept, one that hid in a basket on top of the wardrobe and almost never showed itself.

“Hm. She looks a few years older than the age she wrote down.”

“Work can really wear someone down,” Peter replied.

“So what do you think?”

“I don't see any problem with her.”

“Then let's go with your decision. She can move in.”

“Right... I'll take care of it.” Peter sighed. He should have known.

Once he'd finished discussing the matter with Harley, he found Thompson first.

“Harley's fine with it. The rooms on the fourth floor are already taken, though, so you'll have to live downstairs. Is there a floor you'd prefer?”

“Uh... I... any floor is fine, I guess?”

“Then take the first floor. You won't have to climb any stairs.” Peter nodded.

“That's great, Peter!” Flash threw an arm around him, beaming. “Uh... thanks.”

“No problem. Want any help with your move?”

“No, no! I've got it!”