"So, let me get this straight." Harry Osborn said, gripping his cell phone between his shoulder and his ear as he moved about his kitchen. "You've got a date for the dance and a college interview today, and you still haven't picked up the Doritos under your bed?"
"That about sums it up, yep." His best friend, Peter Parker, said, his phone pressed against his ear with his shoulder too.
Peter sat typing away at his computer, shifting in his chair as he tried to find a comfortable position that he could surf the internet and speak on the phone at the same time.
He debated telling Harry about the recent events at OsCorp, specifically those surrounding the stray spider that had found its way into Peter's bag. He glanced at his palm as Harry made a sandwich on the other end of the line. A small bruise lay on his flesh where the spider in his bag had bitten him only three days before.
Peter had experienced a series of bizarre events since the incident that night outside of the library. His fingertips had taken on an usual tackiness, sticking to everything he touched, were he not explicitly concentrating on remaining stick-free.
The incident with the car was certainly unusual as well. His reflexes, somehow, had increased greatly as a result of his encounter with the modified spider. After looking on the internet, as in-depth as his search for answers could go, really, Peter found that certain species of spider had heightened senses, thus enabling them to react to external stimuli far faster than the average arachnid.
"Any word from your dad?" Peter asked, trying to be as casual with the subject as possible.
Harry scoffed.
"Norman's been gone for the past few days, Pete. C'mon, cut the guy some slack. He's a multi-millionaire CEO of a scientific research company. He'd be a bad businessman if he didn't leave town for a few days."
Peter snickered on the other end of the line.
"Well, that's true." He stood up and walked briskly to his closet.
"But aren't you the least bit, I dunno, worried about him?"
"Nah. My dad can handle himself." Harry rolled his eyes as he spoke, desperately trying to change the subject.
"Hey, what're you wearing to this thing tonight?"
"The dance?"
"Yeah."
Peter tossed his dress pants and blazer onto his bed from the closet.
"Oh, I don't know."
In the whole of his life, Peter had never been one for school functions, let alone those of a romantic nature. For years he had kept to himself, aside from Gwen and Harry. He couldn't see that changing with a single dance.
"I'm probably going to stick with what I'm wearing to the interview."
"So... semi-casual?" Harry asked, fishing for a hint.
"Something like that."
"This is where you live." Peter's television said, as he turned it on and began playing the DVD in his player.
"Right here."
"What're you watching?" Harry asked, as the TV came to life in the background.
"Nothin'." Peter replied, embarrassed.
"You live right here. You understand that? This is home."
"That sounds... familiar." Harry knew the voice, but couldn't place it without an image.
Peter had become decidedly less talkative since the television had come on.
"None of this. I don't wanna see none of that. Don't need no pizza. They got food there."
"Where is that from?" The aggravation in Peter's friend's voice was virtually palpable, and it was all Peter could do to stop himself from laughing.
"Elbows: six inches from the waist, ninety degree angle." The character continued, but with a more venomous tone,
"Don't you bite your lip. Stop that. Stop it."
Harry's eyes opened wide and a satisfied smirk slid onto his face.
"Is that... Hitch?"
"Maybe. Thanks for calling. Gotta go get ready now." Peter said, snapping his phone shut and tossing it onto his bed.
He stared at it, fearing that it might snap open with a piece of ridicule from Harry.
When he was satisfied nothing was going to come leaping from his phone, Peter dressed himself and headed down the stairs.
"Hi guys." He said as he saw his aunt and uncle waiting for him in their living room.
Before they could reply, however, the doorbell rang.
Peter and Ben exchanged an eager glance.
With a single leap, far enough to surprise his aunt and uncle, Peter was on the sofa.
The bell rang again, and Aunt May answered the door quietly.
"Mrs. Parker?" A calm voice said from outside of the door.
Peter and his uncle grinned at each other, incredibly happy to be meeting Peter's future head-on.
"Please, come in." She said, motioning for the man to enter.
He was tall, over six feet. His build was slender, and he stood with a cane. His smile was warm and inviting, as his blue eyes glanced about the Parker residence.
Behind him was a young woman, her eyes following his slowly.
"Peter, Ben, this is Professor Charles..." She had trouble pronouncing his last name, hoping not to offend him.
His eyes snapped back to attention as she struggled.
"Xavier." He said, extending a hand towards Peter.
"Charles Xavier. Let me be the first to say how thrilled we are over at the University that young Peter, here, agreed to meet with us."
Xavier draped his jacket over his arm and entered the house quietly, taking a seat when gestured to by May.
"You know me?" Peter asked, his tone indicated a certain level of surprise.
"Well, yes, Peter." The man said, reaching forward to pour himself a cup of tea. May had put forth a tray of coffee, tea, biscuits, and sandwiches in the hopes of impressing their company.
"Your academic record is nothing short of remarkable, and your numerous accolades have certainly raised interest in schools other than my own."
Peter's concentration flitted between the Professor before him and the young woman, about Peter's age, sitting next to him.
Xavier smiled and put a hand on her shoulder.
"How could I have forgotten to introduce this young lady. Her name is Kitty."
Ben and May exchanged smiles.
"She's a student at my school. She has been for just about eight years now."
"Eight?" May asked, somewhat surprised.
Shifting himself in his seat, the Professor looked up at Peter's aunt.
"Well, yes. We encourage a constant student body at the University. Of course, we have the under-level schools at the academy, but there's also a University. It helps make the yearly transition easier for students. Our grades range from second, all the way up to fourth year medical and law students."
"So, it really is a small, isolated world there, isn't it?"
"It certainly is." Xavier said, looking at Ben.
"Would it be alright with the two of you if I was allowed to sit and talk quietly with Peter, just to understand what he wants from a school?"
They both nodded, realizing that they didn't have any grounds to deny the Professor a conference with the boy he hoped would be a student of his in the future.
As Ben and May made their way upstairs, wringing their hands anxiously, Peter smiled at Professor Xavier, unsure of what to say.
"Well, Peter. You've had quite the week, haven't you?"
Peter's eyes opened wide as his mouth fell agape.
"Before you go jumping to conclusions, I am indeed a teacher. I do run a school for gifted youngsters, and I do want you to be a student there when the time comes."
Peter turned his head quietly.
Then what exactly is going on, here? He thought to himself.
You've been given a rare gift, Peter. I'm here to show you how to use it, if you'll let me.
Peter gasped and pushed himself backwards, toppling over the rear of the sofa.
"Kitty, here, is like you and I. She, too, has been handed rare abilities by fate."
"Does that mean you can tell me how this..." Peter muttered, gesturing at his hand.
"has happened to me?"
"The logical place to start would be after the spider bite you suffered from a few days ago. The venom in the spider's blood had a chemical reaction with your own. I'm no doctor, but the most logical explanation is that something happened in your DNA."
"So am I going to grow more arms, or fangs, or extra eyes?"
Peter began to panic. He was only a teenager... how could he be expected to live a normal life while he was sticking to walls and soaring through the air?
"We can't say for sure, Peter." The professor said, relaxing Peter slightly.
"But you should know that you are surrounded by people who care for you and want what's best for you. That's why I'm extending this invitation to you; to be with people who understand what you're going through, people who can appreciate you no matter what."
Peter sat quietly on the sofa for a moment, staring at the carpet beneath his feet. He had lived in this house for fifteen years. Every wall was lined with memories and everything he saw meant something to him. He was older, but he was still young.
"Professor Xavier," He said, smiling to himself.
"I think I might've found that already."
The professor nodded understandingly.
"Fair enough, my boy." Charles said, rising to his feet.
He quietly moved towards the doorway, with a hand on Kitty's back.
"We'll be in touch."
Kitty pushed her bangs back behind her ear and placed a piece of paper in Peter's hand.
"If you ever need anything." She said.
"Or if you're alone on a Saturday night."
"Thanks." Peter breathed, as he watched his scholarship opportunity walk down the pavement.
Before he could turn around, Peter heard footsteps thudding down the stairs.
"Well, how was it?" His aunt asked eagerly.
Peter stared at the car that the professor had come in as it drove down the street.
"It wasn't for me." Peter said, his heart heavy.
"Not for you? How could it not be for you?"
Peter's aunt was exasperated, and she let out a heavy sigh when she felt Ben's hand on her shoulder.
"Now, May." He said.
"If Pete says the school wasn't for him, I'll believe him."
"Fair enough." She growled, patting her boy's back as he stared at the floor, sullen.
"If anyone needs me, I'll be upstairs."