chapter three:
❛ following peter ❜

PLEASE DONT BE A GHOST READER!
COMMENT AND VOTE

✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸

As the last school bell of the day rang, Gwendolyn wasted no time. The sound was barely out of the air before she was already packing her things, eyes fixed on Peter as he shuffled out of the classroom. He had been acting strange for days—nervous, distracted, and avoiding her at every turn. They used to be inseparable, but now Peter was distant, like there was a wall between them. Gwen knew something was off, and today she wasn't going to let him slip away without answers.

Rushing out of the school doors, she spotted him walking up the street, his head down, hands stuffed into the pockets of his hoodie. Without a second thought, she jumped on her bike, pedaling hard to catch up but staying just far enough behind that he wouldn't notice. Her heart pounded in her chest, but it wasn't just from the exertion. Something told her that whatever Peter was hiding wasn't just some small secret. It was big—something that had changed him.

Gwen followed him for blocks, weaving through the after-school foot traffic until Peter turned a corner and headed towards the small convenience store near the edge of town. She slowed down, watching as he entered the store. The bell above the door rang softly as he disappeared inside.

Gwen stopped at the corner, her eyes narrowing as she tried to figure out what he could possibly be doing in a place like this. Peter didn't even live in this part of town. Biting her lip, she chained her bike to a nearby post and walked toward the store with purpose. She pushed open the door, the bell chiming again as she stepped inside.

The air smelled faintly of stale chips and cleaning products. The fluorescent lights above flickered slightly, casting a dull, yellowish glow over the shelves lined with snacks and household essentials. Gwen's eyes scanned the store quickly, and then she saw him.

Peter was at the back of the store, kneeling by the counter, gently petting the tabby cat that always lounged there. His shoulders were hunched, and for a second, Gwen felt a pang of something—sadness, maybe. He looked so lost. But that feeling quickly evaporated when Peter turned and saw her.

His eyes went wide, his hand freezing in mid-pet. The cat meowed in protest, but Peter didn't seem to hear it. "G-Gweny?" he stammered, his voice cracking with surprise. He stood up abruptly, backing a step away from the counter. "What are you doing here?"

Gwen crossed her arms over her chest, taking a few slow steps toward him. Her voice was calm but laced with accusation. "Following you," she said flatly, her gaze never leaving his face.

Peter's face paled, and his mouth opened and closed like he was searching for words but couldn't find them. "Wh-why?" he finally managed to squeak out, his eyes darting nervously around the small store.

Gwen let out a quiet, humorless chuckle, taking another step forward. "Because I know you're hiding something, Peter. And I'm going to find out what it is." Her voice was steady, but there was an edge to it—a quiet determination that told Peter she wasn't going to back down.

Peter swallowed hard, his hand twitching at his side like he wanted to shove it back into his pocket but didn't want to seem too obvious. "I'm not hiding anything," he muttered, but his voice was weak, the lie barely convincing even to himself.

Gwen raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a small, knowing smile. "Come on, Peter. You and I used to be best friends, remember? I know you better than anyone. You're a terrible liar." She leaned in slightly, her voice dropping to a near whisper. "You're hiding something, and you know it."

The store owner, an elderly man sitting behind the counter, was watching the scene unfold with mild amusement, occasionally glancing between Gwen and Peter as though they were actors in some kind of soap opera. Peter noticed this, and it only made him more anxious. His gaze flicked back to Gwen, his face filled with a mix of fear and frustration.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about," he stammered again, but his voice lacked conviction.

Gwen took one final step toward him, her eyes boring into his. "It doesn't matter what you say, Peter. I'm going to figure it out." She paused, letting her words hang in the air for a moment before adding, "It's why I want to be a detective. I'm good at figuring people out. And I'm going to figure you out, too."

Peter's breath caught in his throat, his body stiffening as the words sank in. He knew she meant it. Gwen wasn't the kind of person to make empty threats, especially not when she was this determined.

For a brief moment, there was silence between them, the kind of silence that makes the air feel thick and heavy. Gwen could see the conflict in Peter's eyes, the way he was battling with himself internally. Part of her wanted to reach out, to ask him if he needed help, but the other part—the part that was tired of being shut out—just wanted the truth.

Without waiting for a response, Gwen turned on her heel and walked towards the door. The bell above it chimed as she pushed it open, but she paused just before stepping out. "Be careful, Peter," she said over her shoulder, her voice softer now but still firm.

She gave him one last look—a mixture of concern and resolve—before disappearing out the door.

Peter stood there, frozen, staring after her. His heart was racing, and his mind was a whirl of thoughts, none of them coherent. He clenched his fists, trying to shake off the panic that had settled deep in his chest. Gwen was getting closer to the truth, and he wasn't sure how much longer he could keep it hidden from her.

Gwen stood outside the convenience store, leaning against her bike, eyes fixed on the door as she waited for Peter to emerge. Her mind raced with questions—what was he hiding? What was he up to? She could feel it in her gut that there was something big, something important, and she wasn't going to let him slip away without finding out.

A few minutes passed before Peter finally jogged out of the store, glancing nervously over his shoulder. Gwen tensed, watching as he crossed the street and headed toward a narrow alleyway nearby. Without wasting any time, she got on her bike, pedaling softly behind him, careful not to make a sound.

As Peter disappeared into the shadows of the alley, Gwen sped up. But just as she was about to turn into the alley herself, something caught her eye—a small boy, no older than seven, standing in the middle of the street, oblivious to the car speeding toward him.

Her heart leaped into her throat. Without thinking, Gwen jumped off her bike and sprinted toward the boy, her legs pumping as fast as they could. "Hey! Watch out!" she screamed, waving her arms, trying to get his attention. The car's tires screeched as it barreled down the road, and Gwen knew she wouldn't make it in time.

Just as she was about to reach the boy, a blur of red and blue swooped in from above. In an instant, Spider-Man swung down from a web, snatching the kid up and out of harm's way. The car roared past, missing them by inches, and Gwen skidded to a stop, her heart pounding in her chest.

Spider-Man set the boy down safely on the sidewalk, giving him a quick pat on the head. "You okay, kid?" he asked, his voice calm and steady despite the near disaster.

The boy nodded, his wide eyes filled with awe. "Yeah, thanks, Spider-Man!"

As the kid ran off, Gwen stepped forward, crossing her arms as she studied Spider-Man carefully. He straightened up and turned to face her, his masked face unreadable. But she could tell—there was something about the way he moved, the way he reacted when he saw her.

"Hello, girl I don't know," Spider-Man said, his voice just a little too forced, like he was trying way too hard to sound casual.

Gwen narrowed her eyes, taking a step closer. "Stop trying to hide who you are from me."

Spider-Man gulped, his posture stiffening. "Uh, I'm not hiding anything. I'm just, you know, your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man. No need to overthink it." He gave a small, awkward wave, taking a tiny step back, clearly ready to make his exit.

Gwen wasn't buying it. "I know it's you, Peter."

He froze for a split second before recovering. "I'm not Peter. Peter is, uh, probably still in that convenience store. Yep, that's where he is, doing, uh, Peter things."

"Cut the crap, Peter," Gwen said, her voice firm. She wasn't going to let him get away this time. "I know when you're lying. I've known you long enough to figure that out. You're Spider-Man, aren't you?"

Before she could get any closer, Spider-Man shot a web up to a nearby lamppost, pulling himself up into the air. "You've got the wrong guy!" he called down, swinging away.

"I know who you are!" Gwen shouted after him, watching as he disappeared into the distance, his web line snapping through the air. She stood there, breathing hard, her eyes darting down the alleyway where Peter had been moments ago. But he was gone, nowhere to be seen.

Gwen clenched her fists, her mind racing. She was sure of it now—Peter was Spider-Man. There was no other explanation. She'd seen the way he'd reacted when she confronted him, how nervous he'd been, how eager he was to get away.

Just then, the little boy she'd tried to save tugged on her sleeve, looking up at her with wide eyes. "Who's Spider-Man?" he asked, his voice filled with wonder.

Gwen looked down at him, her lips pressing into a tight line. She ruffled his hair gently and gave him a small smile. "I can't tell you that, kid. It's a secret."

As the boy ran off, Gwen stood there for a moment, staring down the empty alleyway. She knew the truth now, even if Peter wasn't ready to admit it. And she wasn't going to stop until she had the answers she needed.

Gwen let out a deep sigh as she lingered at the mouth of the alley, staring down at the spot where Peter had disappeared. The quiet, empty street seemed to mock her, as if daring her to chase after him again—but she knew it was useless. Peter was gone, and Spider-Man had taken his place. How could she have missed it all this time?

She shook her head, feeling the weight of the realization pressing on her chest. Peter Parker—her former best friend, the boy she thought she knew better than anyone—had been hiding something so monumental from her. The thought stung, but it wasn't the secret itself that hurt. It was the distance between them, the space that had grown ever since... well, ever since everything changed.

Sighing again, Gwen finally turned away from the alley and walked toward her apartment building. The familiar brick structure loomed ahead, its worn-out exterior a stark contrast to the bustling city around it. She crossed the street, her footsteps heavy, and pushed open the door to the small lobby.

Inside, the atmosphere was warm and familiar, a refuge from the chaos of the outside world. The dim lighting, the faded floral wallpaper, and the smell of old wood mixed with the faint aroma of cooking from nearby apartments. Gwen instantly felt some of the tension in her shoulders ease.

Behind the front desk sat Mrs. Henderson, the building's longtime manager. She was a petite, elderly woman with short silver hair and kind eyes that crinkled when she smiled. Her ever-present companion, Baxter, a small, fluffy white dog, was curled up in his usual spot by her feet.

Gwen approached the desk, managing a small smile as she greeted them. "Hey, Mrs. Henderson. Hey, Baxter."

Mrs. Henderson looked up from her knitting with a warm smile. "Well, if it isn't Gweny! How's my favorite girl doing today?" she asked, her voice raspy but full of affection.

"Eh, I've had better days," Gwen admitted, bending down to give Baxter a gentle pat on the head. The little dog's tail wagged lazily in response, and Gwen found comfort in the simple interaction. "How's Baxter?"

"Oh, you know, still keeping me on my toes," Mrs. Henderson chuckled. "Old age hasn't slowed him down too much. You just missed your mom, by the way."

Gwen straightened up, the mention of her mom adding to the heaviness in her chest. "Yeah, I saw the note," she said with a nod. "Thanks, Mrs. Henderson."

"You hang in there, Gweny," the older woman said kindly. "You're strong. You'll figure things out."

Gwen offered her a grateful smile, though the words didn't do much to lift her spirits. "Thanks. See you later, Mrs. Henderson."

"Take care, dear," Mrs. Henderson called after her as Gwen made her way toward the stairwell. Baxter let out a soft yip in farewell.

As Gwen began her familiar climb up the narrow staircase, the creaking of the old wooden steps echoed with each step. Their apartment was on the fourth floor, and the elevator had been broken for what felt like forever, but she didn't mind the climb. It gave her time to think—though today, she wasn't sure if that was a good thing.

She couldn't stop replaying the scene in her head. Spider-Man swinging in to save the kid, the way Peter—Spider-Man—had tried so hard to deny who he really was, even when it was so obvious to her. Why did he feel the need to hide it from her? After all they had been through together, why couldn't he trust her with the truth?

By the time she reached the fourth floor, her mind was buzzing with unanswered questions. She unlocked the door to their apartment and stepped inside, greeted by the familiar sight of their modest living space. The faint sounds of cartoons drifted from the living room, where her little brother, Max, was sprawled out on the couch, fully engrossed in whatever show was on.

"Hey, Max," Gwen called out as she slipped off her shoes by the door.

"Hey, Gwen," Max replied without looking up from the screen. His voice was casual, as if their mom's absence was nothing new to him.

Gwen wandered into the kitchen, her eyes immediately landing on the note stuck to the fridge with a magnet shaped like a star. She peeled it off and read it, her stomach sinking as she scanned the familiar handwriting.

"Took another shift. Love, Mom."

Another shift. Of course. Gwen let out a long, quiet sigh, crumpling the note in her hand before tossing it onto the counter. She wasn't angry—she knew why their mom had to work so much. The extra shifts were necessary, especially with the bills piling up and their dad not being around. But it didn't stop the ache in her chest.

Gwen glanced over at Max, who hadn't moved from his spot on the couch. He was only eleven, but sometimes it felt like she was raising him. She wished their mom could be home more, but she understood the sacrifices her mom was making for them. It was just... hard.

"Did you eat yet?" she called over to Max.

"Nope," Max replied, still glued to the TV. His voice was distant, as if dinner was the last thing on his mind.

"Alright," Gwen muttered, opening the fridge and staring blankly at its contents. Leftovers from the night before sat on the top shelf—some kind of pasta dish that she couldn't remember the name of. She pulled it out, along with a couple of plates, and set them on the counter.

As she went through the motions of reheating the food, her thoughts drifted back to Peter. What was she supposed to do now? Confront him? Wait for him to tell her the truth on his own? And what would happen if he never did?

She plated the food and brought a dish over to Max, who muttered a distracted "thanks" before taking the plate without looking away from the TV.

Gwen sat down at the small kitchen table, poking at her food without much appetite. The familiar hum of the apartment surrounded her, but inside, she felt more lost than ever.

It was late, and the apartment was quiet, save for the faint hum of the television in the background. Gwen had fallen asleep on the couch, her legs curled up beneath her and a blanket draped haphazardly over her. The day had drained her, both physically and emotionally, and she hadn't meant to fall asleep, but the exhaustion finally caught up to her.

A light shake stirred her from her sleep. "Gwen, wake up."

She blinked groggily, slowly coming to as she opened her eyes and saw her little brother, Max, standing by the couch, his eyes wide with concern.

"Max?" she mumbled, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "What's wrong?"

"There's something going on outside," Max said, his voice a mix of worry and excitement. "I think something's on fire."

Gwen was fully awake now, her heart skipping a beat as she swung her legs off the couch and hurried over to the window. She pulled back the curtain, and the sight outside made her gasp.

Across the street, flames were licking up the side of the convenience store where she had followed Peter earlier that day. Thick black smoke billowed into the night sky, illuminated by the flickering orange and red light of the fire. The small crowd of onlookers had gathered on the sidewalk, staring in horror as the fire raged.

"Oh my god," Gwen whispered, her pulse racing. She quickly grabbed her phone and dialed 9-1-1, her fingers shaking slightly as she pressed the numbers.

"9-1-1, what's your emergency?" the operator's voice crackled through the phone.

"There's a fire," Gwen said hurriedly, her eyes still fixed on the burning store. "At the convenience store on 3rd and Cedar. You need to send someone right away."

"Fire department is on its way," the operator assured her. "Please stay inside and keep a safe distance."

Gwen nodded, even though the operator couldn't see her. "Okay, thanks."

She hung up the phone and turned back to the window, unable to tear her gaze away from the scene unfolding below. The flames were growing, casting an eerie glow across the street. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw the store's owner, the older man she had seen earlier that day, walking out of the burning building, clutching his beloved cat close to his chest.

But it wasn't just the store owner.

Spider-Man was with him.

The masked hero was helping the man walk out of the store, one arm steadying him as they made their way to safety. The cat meowed softly in the owner's arms, seemingly unharmed despite the chaos surrounding them. Gwen's eyebrows furrowed as she watched them from her apartment window, her heart pounding in her chest. There was something unsettling about this. Why was Peter always connected to Spider-Man? She had followed Peter to the store, and now Spider-Man was the one saving the day?

It couldn't just be a coincidence.

Gwen's mind raced as she leaned closer to the window, her breath fogging the glass as she watched Spider-Man help the man to a group of paramedics waiting nearby. The fire was still raging, but the fire department was finally arriving, sirens blaring as they pulled up to the scene.

She didn't even notice Max standing beside her, his face pressed against the window.

"Whoa, Spider-Man is here!" Max exclaimed, his eyes wide with awe.

Gwen barely registered his words, her thoughts consumed by the growing suspicion swirling in her mind. She watched Spider-Man closely, her eyes narrowing as he glanced up at the surrounding buildings. She could almost feel his gaze sweep over their apartment building before he shot a web at a nearby lamppost and swung away into the night.

"I knew it," Gwen muttered under her breath, her heart racing. "I know who you are, Peter."

Max tugged at her sleeve, pulling her out of her thoughts. "Gwen, who's Spider-Man? Do you know him?"

Gwen turned to look at her little brother, her expression softening. She managed a small smile, though her mind was still reeling.

"I can't tell you that, Max," she said quietly, brushing his hair out of his eyes. "It's a secret."

Max looked disappointed but didn't press further, his gaze shifting back to the chaos outside. Gwen, however, couldn't shake the feeling gnawing at her. She was closer than ever to the truth, but now that she knew, what was she supposed to do?

ASH SPEAKS!

poor gwen:(

who could play her mom and little brother?? remember madison bailey is black & italian! im not sure i need ur guys help

i know she found out quickly but there's something next chapter thats gonna make her think he's actually not spiderman BUT she will officially know he is spiderman in the chapter when they go on the trip and the elevator scene

PLEASE DONT BE A GHOST READER! IT HELPS US WRITERS STAY MOTIVATED:)