Part 2 - Back to Queens
*Four years later*
Walking home from school, I overheard snippets of conversation – talk of a “spider guy” in Queens saving people. Must be one of the Avengers, I thought, a flicker of curiosity in my chest.
I unlocked the front door and immediately noticed my mother. She was still in her work clothes, nursing a cup of coffee, and a mountain of paperwork sprawled across the kitchen table. Her gaze met mine, and she offered that familiar look – the one reserved for delivering bad news.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, moving closer to her and settling into a chair.
“Y/N, I have some difficult news,” she said, her voice laced with weariness.
“What is it?” I asked, a knot forming in my stomach as I braced for whatever she was about to say. Every possible scenario flashed through my mind.
“We’re moving back to Queens.”
The words hit me like a physical shock. I shot up, knocking my chair askew. “WE WHAT?”
“Y/N, I don’t have a choice,” she said, walking to the sink to rinse out her mug. “My boss is transferring me back to that division.”
“Mom, we can’t move!” I cried out, pacing the room with my hands clasped in front of me. “My friends, my school, my whole life is here, in Michigan!”
“Y/N, I’m so sorry,” she said softly. “We’re leaving in two days. Start packing, and say goodbye to your friends.” She turned and walked out of the room, leaving me in stunned silence.
The next two days were a blur of tearful goodbyes and frantic packing. On the day we left, I packed the last box, sealing it with tape. I stood in the center of my room, surveying the emptiness. Memories flooded back – sleepovers, laughter, whispered secrets. I lingered, tracing the outline of the room with my eyes, trying to imprint it on my memory.
“Y/N! Let’s go! I don’t want to be late!” Mom called from downstairs.
I grabbed the final box, took one last look at my room, and walked out the door, leaving it all behind.
*Two hours later*
Two hours later, we were back in New York, a city I hadn’t seen in four years. Mom and I exited the airport and climbed into a taxi, making our way to our new house.
The taxi stopped in front of a gray house with white trim and a brown door.
“This is our new home!” Mom announced as we stepped out of the car.
“Great,” I muttered blandly.
We walked up the steps, and Mom produced a key, unlocking the door. Stepping inside, I was surprised to see how gorgeous the interior was.
“Mom, this isn’t our furniture,” I said, my mouth agape in amazement.
“I replaced it all,” she said, sounding pleased with herself. “I felt it suited the house better.”
“I actually really like it!” I admitted, examining the house with growing interest.
“You better go upstairs to your room and unpack a little, and pick out your clothes for tomorrow,” Mom called out from the kitchen.
I had almost forgotten. Mom had enrolled me in Midtown School of Science and Technology, and tomorrow was my first day.
“Your room is upstairs, first door on the left!” she called again.
I walked upstairs and opened the first door on the left. The room was painted a dark turquoise, a shade I knew I’d repaint eventually. I tossed my suitcase onto the bed that had been delivered yesterday.
It was only seven o’clock, but exhaustion washed over me. I closed my eyes, letting sleep claim me.
“Y/N!!” Mom’s voice screeched from downstairs, jolting me awake. I glanced at my phone – 7:30 AM. I’d overslept!
I quickly threw on jeans, a maroon shirt, a gray cardigan, and sandals. I applied makeup lightly and curled my hair, taking one last look in the mirror and approving the result. I grabbed my bag and ran downstairs.
“Hurry and get in the car,” Mom said without looking up from her papers. “I’m driving you today, and I can’t be late for work.”
The drive to school was silent. Finally, we arrived at a large building with a sign reading “Midtown School of Science and Technology.”
“Have a great day, sweetie,” Mom said, kissing me on the forehead. I climbed out of the car and watched her drive away. I walked into the building and headed for the main office. Kids stared as I walked through the hallway. I understood why – I probably looked like a lost kid wandering through a carnival.
At the office, a woman with red hair and dark brown glasses sat behind the desk, typing furiously. She looked up as I approached, removing her glasses.
“Um, hi. My name is Y/N Y/L/N. I’m new,” I stammered, trying to sound composed but failing miserably.
“Ah, yes,” she said, pulling a folder from her desk. “Here’s your class schedule.” She handed it to me, and I glanced at my classes, locker number, and combination.
“We can have a student come and show you around?”
“Um, yes, I’d like that. Thank you.” I mentally berated myself. I had to stop saying “um.” It made me sound so foolish.
The woman picked up the phone, speaking softly into the receiver. I couldn’t make out a single word she said. She hung up and gave me a brief glance before putting her glasses back on.
“A student will be right here to guide you through the day. You can take a seat until they arrive.” She gestured to a chair near the door. I slowly walked over and sat down.
Five minutes later, a boy walked through the door and approached the desk. He spoke quietly to the office lady.
“Oh, yes,” she said, pulling a file from her desk. “Y/N!”
I stood up, nearly stumbling. My legs felt like jelly.
“Yes?” I said, walking closer to the desk.
“This is your guide for the day. He can introduce himself to you.” The woman sounded utterly indifferent to my presence.
The boy turned around and looked at me. He wore a flannel shirt over a sweater, and an earbud peeked from under his collar. He looked strangely familiar, but I couldn’t place it.
Then it hit me. My legs turned to jelly again, and I swear my heart stopped for a moment. I took a step closer to him.
“Peter?”
“Yeah?” he said, looking puzzled.
“Peter Parker?”
“Yeah, have we met?”
“It’s me. Y/N Y/L/N!”
His eyes widened, and he took a step back. “Y/N?”
I couldn’t believe what was happening. I hadn’t expected to see Peter again, yet here I was, standing in front of him for the first time in four years.