“My brother’s going too.”
The moment Peter said that—
The entire table froze.
The air itself seemed to solidify.
If looks could kill, Peter would’ve already been beaten into the ground by a perfect tag team combo from Gwen and Clark—and then thrown out of the house for good measure.
Inside Clark’s head, however—
The little devil had already leapt into the air, trident spinning wildly as it danced in celebration:
“YES!
I hereby declare—Peter is my most beloved brother!
The ultimate wingman!”
Meanwhile, the angel—
No longer preaching about “enjoying beauty while eating”—
Was clutching its face in despair.
“It’s over… it’s over… a battlefield has formed!
Gwen’s fork is about to bend in half!”
Back in reality, Clark’s smile had already stiffened into something… unnatural.
He slowly turned his head—
And stared at his “brilliant” younger brother.
The one who clearly thought he’d done something clever.
The one who was absolutely hoping to watch chaos unfold.
Clark seriously considered punching him.
“Oh?
Really?”
Felicia Hardy’s eyes lit up instantly.
At first, she’d only been amused—teasing this shy, pure-hearted giant of a boy was entertaining enough.
But now?
This was an opportunity.
She turned toward Clark, resting her chin lightly on one hand like a lazy cat, her emerald gaze locking onto him as if she could pull his soul out.
“Want to go with me?”
Before Clark could even open his mouth—
A slender finger pressed gently against his lips.
Silencing him.
“No need to answer,” Felicia said softly, already deciding for him.
“I won’t ruin Peter’s good intentions.”
She leaned back slightly, smiling.
“See you this weekend, Clark.
I’m looking forward to it.”
And just like that—
She stood up and walked away.
Without even sparing a glance at the visibly boiling Gwen.
Only the faint trace of her perfume lingered behind.
“Peter.
Parker.”
Gwen’s voice came out through clenched teeth.
She didn’t even bother hiding it anymore—she called him by his full name.
That alone was enough to send a chill down anyone’s spine.
Beside her, MJ looked both sympathetic… and slightly amused.
She knew Peter too well.
His emotional intelligence?
Still in beta testing. Find the original chapter at novelping.com.
Peter flinched so hard his burger slipped from his hands and landed back on the tray.
“W-what’s wrong, Gwen?”
He genuinely didn’t understand.
At most, he just thought Gwen and Clark were close—
Like he and MJ.
“What were you thinking?!” Gwen snapped, her cheeks flushed red.
“Why would you invite her?!”
MJ couldn’t help but laugh quietly to the side.
This was so Peter.
“I… I just thought the more people, the better!” Peter tried to explain, looking slightly wronged.
“Science is amazing—shouldn’t more people witness it?”
And honestly—
That was his main reason.
Sure, a tiny part of him wanted to see Clark squirm…
But mostly?
He was just being a science nerd.
A genius brain.
With zero emotional awareness.
An unstoppable combination.
Peter finally turned toward Clark, completely lost.
“Did I… do something wrong?”
Clark looked at his younger brother.
In that brief moment, a thousand thoughts crossed his mind—
And in the end, all of them turned into a single, helpless sigh.
“You didn’t do anything wrong, Peter,” he said.
“It’s just that my peaceful high school life… officially ended on day two.”
Then he calmly went back to eating his pasta.
Because at this point, there was nothing he could do.
He couldn’t exclude anyone.
That simply wasn’t who he was.
Kindness was part of him—he didn’t want anyone to feel left out or hurt.
Watching the chaos unfold, Harry burst out laughing.
For someone who had grown up lonely in a wealthy family, this noisy, chaotic kind of friendship felt strangely comforting.
“Relax, relax,” Harry grinned.
“Oscorp Tower can handle all of you.
Peter, feel free to invite a few more people.”
“Besides, don’t you have biology class this afternoon?”
In the afternoon biology class, the balding teacher stood at the board, carefully drawing a DNA double helix.
Peter leaned forward and tapped the black-haired girl in front of him—Cindy Moon.
“Hey, Cindy,” he whispered, as if that somehow made him invisible.
(It didn’t.)
Cindy turned around, adjusting her glasses.
“What is it, Parker?
Didn’t catch the formula?
I can let you copy mine later.”
“It’s not that,” Peter scratched his head.
“This weekend… Oscorp’s lab is hosting a private tour.
Harry gave me a few passes.”
“…Do you want to come?”
For a science nerd like her, this was like being handed a golden ticket.
“What?!
Oscorp’s lab?!
I’m definitely going!” she nearly exclaimed.
“Peter, you’re amazing!
I’ve been researching their spider experiments!”
She was so excited she even switched from “Parker” to “Peter.”
“Ahem!”
The teacher’s loud cough cut through the moment.
“If you two find my class so uninteresting, you’re welcome to leave right now and head to Oscorp.”
Both of them instantly shrank back into their seats, heads down, pretending to take notes.
Just like that, the weekend group was finalized:
Peter, Clark, Harry, MJ, Gwen, Felicia Hardy, and Cindy Moon.
As for Eddie?
Of course he wasn’t going.
Labs and test tubes weren’t his thing.
Give him a garage or an underground fight ring—that was his idea of a good time.
That night, in Clark’s room at the Parker house, he stood by the window instead of sleeping.
His super hearing spread across New York City—
But his focus was locked on one place: the Daily Bugle building in Manhattan.
Ben’s words from the morning echoed in his mind.
“Jameson plans to expose the black-market network next week…”
That kind of report—one that cut straight into the interests of gangs and corporations—would provoke retaliation.
Clark’s expression darkened slightly.
Ben was a former soldier, yes.
But now?
Out of practice.
And the people he was up against were armed, organized, and ruthless.
Clark didn’t like the odds.
And more importantly—
He would never allow anyone to harm his family.
Through his vision, he saw Ben still working late, sitting at his desk, preparing the article.
Then the phone rang.
Clark focused, sharpening his hearing.
A tense, hushed voice came through from the other end.
“Parker, it’s me.
The place you wanted checked—I’ve got something.”
“Half an hour.
Hell’s Kitchen, 47th Street.
I’ll give you a copy of the ledger.”
“But bring the money.
And don’t bring the cops.”
“Or we’re both dead.”
“I’ll be there.
I know the rules,” Ben replied.
He hung up, opened a drawer, and pulled out a handgun, sliding it into the back of his waistband.
Then he put on his coat and walked out of the Daily Bugle building.
Clark’s eyes narrowed.
Tonight—
He wasn’t just going to watch.