Chapter Text
“Tell me, who hit you?”
“Just some guy,” Penny tried to brush it off, suffering from an itch on her wrist, under the new shooter. But the idea of brushing May off was an inherently unachievable idea:
“What’s some guy's name?”
“Uh… Steve.”
“Steve? From 12-C ? With the overbite?”
“No, no, no, you don’t know him. He’s from Brooklyn.”
Penny grimaced and barely had time to tuck the wrist from which she had not yet removed the shooter into her armpit when Aunt May entered the room, holding a frozen chicken wrapped in a kitchen towel. She frowned once more and shook her head, looking at her beloved niece's impressive black eye. Penny smiled, letting her aunt know that there was no cause for worry, for she was already home and perfectly fine. Although, Penny didn't get into fights that often, and May saw the consequences of those fights even less often, so there was nothing surprising about her worry.
“How can I let you go studying two hundred miles from home, when as soon as you are left unsupervised for a few days, this happens?” May wouldn’t stop. “What was Mr Stark doing?”
At the mention of Stark Penny barely prevented herself from grimacing:
“Well… He was a bit busy. I am alright, truly. And in the university, everything will be ok with me, I swear. I am not a child anymore, May.”
May shook her head once again, containing a smile. For her Penny would always remain a baby, no matter how old she was - five, fifteen, twenty or much older. She ruffled her niece's dark hair affectionately and left the room, knowing full well that after a crazy weekend in Germany with Mr Stark, yesterday's schoolgirl needed a rest.
As the door barely closed behind her aunt, Penny exhaled, set the chicken aside on the bedside table, and went back to studying the new shooter Stark had brought up. Or more precisely, that he flatly refused to take back, already offended that Parker had given him back a suit made especially for her. Penny fell on her bed, closing eyes. The events of the last days were akin to a delirium: couple of days ago, coming back from the library, she found her aunt in their living room in the company of Tony Stark himself. Her voice treacherously shook when she told him her name. However, as it soon turned out, Tony Stark didn’t need Penny to introduce: locking himself in her room, the man declared that he was perfectly aware of who young Parker was. Penny knew for sure - if a secret was known to two, it would soon be known to three, seven and so on upwards. If two know a secret, then it is not a secret anymore, and that's why she first turned white when Stark unmistakably found the stash where Parker kept the cobwebs for homemade shooters. Maybe if it had been a young man in her place, he would have dealt with the shock more quickly, but Penny was in shock that someone knew about her abilities, and she couldn't get her head around the idea that Mr Stark had been watching her - for how long? And how thoroughly? How much did he know? She didn’t get any answers - instead Stark bewildered her with his request for help.
“Maybe you don’t understand something, Mr Stark. I am not a superhero. These abilities are just some kind of a mistake, and I try with all my might to be normal, and then you appear asking to join your… gang.”
He rolled his eyes:
“It’s not a gang, Parker. You heard of the Sokovia Accords, right? And I am sure you agree with my position.”
“Sort of,” she agreed reluctantly, rubbing the edge of the pillow.
Actually, she wasn't sure about the need for the Sokovia Accords at all. Maybe Penny wasn't an expert in politics, but she did understand something. And on one hand, the kind of power the Avengers had did need to be controlled. On the other hand, she didn't want a repeat of what had happened a few years ago, when the government was trying to push through a bill on mandatory registration of mutants. The Parkers had followed the news very intently then, while Penny hadn't realised that such laws might soon affect her as well. The bill was postponed, sent for revision, many people and mutants were killed and injured in large-scale clashes on the streets... And now the Sokovia Accords.
And now, turns out, it was Penny's personal business. Iron Man came to her, and asked her to take his side in this conflict. Penny shifted her gaze behind the man's back, to the bookshelf where the Avengers figures stood. Of course she admired them, as did the other teenagers. She liked Captain America the most. Yet Penny had a special relationship with Tony Stark, too. She was impressed and amazed not so much by his costumes and technology - although they certainly did impress her too! - and definitely not the money; Penny was fascinated by the man's resilience, fortitude, genius and courage. She wished she could be as brave as he was, or as Captain America.
Stark was looking expectantly at her, not understanding where did the problem lie. Penny hurried to explain:
“I don’t even train. And you are calling me into a battle.”
“You're a smart girl, you should realise that I'm not asking you to get in the heat of the battle.” He sighed: “You'll show off your costume, string some cobwebs, and demonstrate to everyone that you're on my side. Then I'll return you to your sweet aunt safe and sound. Your skills will be enough for this, won’t they?”
"What about the others? Are you, what, going to warn them not to mess with me in the fight?" Penny frowned. Her head was swelling with questions generated by her reluctance to deal with all of this. Life was just starting to get better: Parker had turned one page and very successfully started a new one, on which, however, there was now a bold smudge “Tony Stark”. Admittedly, there was still a chance to erase it and carry on, pretending as if the once-white sheet wouldn't have a scrape at the site of the mistake.
“But I’ll be right there.”
Stark smiled. Not like previously, but in a different way. His face changed subtly, as if all the pathos had been stripped away, leaving a man no longer young but tired of fighting and arguing. Penny stared at the wrinkles on his swarthy face, which retained its youthful beauty. Stark was the kind of man they say is like a “fine wine, only better with age”. All his beauty, however, was spoiled by an impressive bruise on his cheekbone, at the mere sight of which Penny's heart clenched with pity. It was hard for her to imagine what it would be like to have your own friends turn against you and fight you to the death just because your opinions on something, no matter how important, didn't align. She sighed, knowing full well that she would regret her decision a hundred times over, but she couldn't find the strength to refuse.
He told her aunt that he was taking Penny to Berlin for a scientific conference for the whole weekend. May was sure that the genius billionaire had recognised her niece for her intelligence and saw her as a promising scientist. Had she known the truth, she would never have let Penny out of the door again. But she was happy to send her to Germany. And Penny thought she was dreaming. She got acquainted with Happy, Stark's driver, even managed to bore him somewhat, because from excitement and fear of the upcoming battle her mouth would not close. Then she tried on a magnificent costume.
Penny was standing in front of the mirror in her hotel room for a long time, taking off her mask and looking at herself in the red and blue spandex. A sense of the wrongness of what was happening was weighing on her. As if someone else, some young man should have been in her place. Or another girl. It didn't matter. Someone who really was a hero, who deserved to wear this costume. Penny herself was no hero. She still felt like an ordinary high school student from Queens, unpopular at school, with an excessive weight and a history of eating disorders, physically weak, and the only thing she could boast of was a high IQ. In the mirror, however, a very different girl stood before her - fit, superpowered, and ready to protect the weak. This was not the Penny Parker, who had flown to Germany driven by pity for a battered middle-aged man, this was the Spider-Girl. Perhaps if Penny had always been her, she could have become a national favourite. Like a friendly neighbour. She would be able to help everyone at all times, not just on those rare evenings when she got home late and couldn't just pass by an injustice or a random passerby in distress. And the mask would keep her identity safely hidden. Maybe something could have worked out if Penny hadn't been who she was after all. Losers only become cool in comic books - Parker couldn't do it, and didn't have the courage to even try.
"Wow, looking at you one wouldn't say you could take on a bunch of hooligans," Stark laughed when he saw Penny in her costume. She did look very petite, and Mr Stark's gaze made her blush to the roots of her hair-although the mask hid it well. As per usual, Parker wasn't used to the attention.
Two years had passed since the day ordinary schoolgirl Penny Parker stopped being an ordinary schoolgirl. When the spider bit her, she first thought she was sick with some unknown disease and would die soon, locked herself in her room and spent a whole week lying to May about being tormented by the period cycle. Something abnormal was happening to her body - overnight, all the extra weight she'd been carrying around since she was twelve years old, exhausting herself with diets and attempts to go to the gym, which had caused her eating disorder - had literally evaporated, and now she could see small but firm muscles beneath her thin, pale skin. Penny had spent more than an hour by studying her suddenly acquired abs and slim thighs in the mirror , not knowing how it was even possible. But the metamorphosis in appearance was only the beginning: very soon Parker discovered that she could stick to surfaces, her strength, reaction speed and agility increased several times over, and her efforts in recent years to stretch paid off - Penny's body obeyed her as if she had devoted all seventeen years of her life to gymnastics and acrobatics. It took her a while to master her new abilities. First she accidentally broke a few doorknobs, chairs, forks and writing utensils, tore a lot of notebooks and almost tore out a lock of her hair. And mastering is a big word, it's more like living with them. Worst of all was the amazingly strong work of the senses: at first Penny could not go out without sunglasses and headphones, but gradually got used to it. You get used to everything.
May also quickly got used to the fact that her overweight niece was now eating for three. The accelerated metabolism destroyed everything that had been blowing Penny's mind for the last five years, and yet she still couldn't get rid of the habit of controlling her menu. It's pretty hard to live when the body demands more hearty and fatty foods, and the brain screams that even a candy bar will turn Penny into a blob fish. At first Parker even seemed that it would drive her crazy: she held on for days, making do with apples and water, and then swept the fridge and roared on the kitchen floor, not used to the changes in the body and convinced that the morning the arrow of the scale will go off the scale - which, of course, happened only in her nightmares. Gradually, however, she let go of this fear as well. There were too many other worries: the final year at school, exams, application to the university.
Penny was to scared by the transformations that had taken place, to show them to the world. It was hard to come to terms with them, even in private, by yourself. So she continued to wear baggy clothes and remain invisible.
It's not that her high school years were terrible, but if she were offered to repeat them, Parker would refuse and would hardly regret her choice. Everyone wants to be popular at school, but when your company is a bespectacled vegan girl and the soloist of the school choir, you can be popular only in a circle of the said losers. Penny didn't complain: her school friends were not bad girls, but their friendship didn't extend beyond the school, so Penny couldn't consider them her friends in the full sense of the word. Perhaps, school life could be even bearable, because primarily Penny went to school for knowledge, if it were not for Flash Thompson, who considered it his duty to humiliate Penny at every opportunity.
But none of that mattered now, because school was behind her and all her efforts had not gone to waste. Penny smiled - the thoughts of her forthcoming university experience brought trepidation, excitement and anticipation. She knew that there, among equals - not geniuses perhaps, but intelligent young men and women - she would find friends and close acquaintances. And it was not necessary for them to know about the spider’s bite. All Penny wanted was to live her life as a decent, normal person. To contribute to science, to repay Aunt May for her kindness and the effort she put into raising her niece. And her superhero career came to an end in Germany when Mr Stark, trying to catch her frightened look from underneath her dishevelled and backward mask, holding her wrists tightly, said:
"Being a warrior is behind you now."
That's right, Penny had fought enough. She threw her legs up against the wall, touched the bruise on her cheekbone. It was still purple, but it would turn yellow in the morning and be gone by lunchtime - and was it worth May's worry? Parker grinned and removed Stark's shooter from her hand. She had no need for it now. She'd hidden it in the stash where she kept the ones she'd made herself a year ago, along with the cobwebs. She'd thought then, since she'd been bitten by a spider, it would be fun to string up hooligans in back alleys with spider webs. And there was nothing to do in the summer holidays. But now, at university, she wouldn't need shooters anymore. If before, thinking about heroism, Penny still doubted, because she didn't even know how it was, now there was no doubt left. It's not worth it. She's too weak for it, too pathetic, too much of a girl. She likes pink, Aunt May's pies, kittens and romcoms, not fighting a guy in star-spangled tights. Although she did feel unrealistically cool when she used the web to take Captain Rogers' shield away from him.
She has an IT degree at MIT ahead of her. She had a big future ahead of her without red and blue spandex and Tony Stark.
May worried, it seemed, even more than Penny herself. She scurried frantically around the flat, spotting things her niece had forgotten: a phone charger here, a sock there. Penny was fighting a zip line on a huge suitcase. It was easier and more pleasant with superpowers, but she was still tasked with zipping the suitcase, not pulling out the zip. So she huffed and puffed, blushing with exertion and trying to be careful. Once done, she set the suitcase against the door, next to her already packed rucksack and laptop bag, and looked around the empty room. The anxiety continued to bubble up inside - this was it, right? She sat down on the bed, ran her palm over the soft patchwork blanket May had sewn, spread out the pillow, picked up the big pink bunny she had a habit of cuddling in her sleep, spread its ears, but they still sadly dropped down. Penny pressed her lips together and returned the bunny to the bed. The half-empty room looked to Penny like an airport or railway station waiting room. Now the boarding board for her flight to Boston would light up, Penny would take a few confident steps and embark on her new life. Of course, she wasn't saying goodbye to Queens, New York, or her room, because she planned to return to this city after graduation, and no one cancelled holidays and weekends. But still, being a student in university and being a student in school are different things. Penny was ready for a new phase.
“Shall we go out for dinner? I burned the chicken,” May appeared in the doorway with her arms crossed over her chest and smiled guiltily. Penny couldn't resist smiling back and nodded.
They went to a Vietnamese restaurant a couple of blocks from the house. It was a short walk, and all the way there May was reminiscing about her university years. She chattered on and on until the food arrived, but Penny wasn't angry: she knew it was stressful for May to let her niece out from under her wing like that. However, Penny was convinced that she was doing the right thing. That's the way it should be, that's the normal way. She is smart and capable, she should go to study at a prestigious university, leaving the house she grew up in. To come on holidays, to be a little aloof and all grown up, because the life of a student is almost a life of its own. But right now Parker was eating rice noodle soup and savouring the last moments of her childhood. In the morning, the train would take her to a place where she would be on her own. Without May, without school, without Stark. Because he was aware of her abilities, Penny was all the more at ease the further away from the man she was. As if he could force her to save the world.
Dinner was finished in silence. May was suddenly quiet, only looking at Penny with a warm, affectionate smile. They returned home as darkness fell: May was hurrying, reminding them that they had to get up early tomorrow, and Penny enjoyed the walk, remembering Queens that way. Leaving home was easy, letting go of the past was pleasant. A new page she would write in bright colours, and this one was already turned. Before going to bed, Auntie kissed Penny on the forehead, as always. Parker tossed and turned for a long time, crumpling the sheet, and could not sleep. She was tormented by thoughts of the future, she drew in her head scenarios that did not have to come true: imagining how she would move into the dormitory, what her roommate would be like, what the teachers would be like, and everything. Already at midnight she fell into a restless sleep.
They didn't fuss in the morning, though Penny could see that May's calmness was costing her a great deal of effort. Auntie dropped Penny off at the Port Authority Bus Terminal in Manhattan. Even though they'd left well in advance, they still had to drive through traffic for almost two hours instead of the allotted hour. May was even more nervous, and all the way there she gave her final instructions:
“Don’t try drugs, Penny. Don’t forget to iron your towels. And if you do get a boyfriend - and I hope you do - don't forget to use protection,” Penny blushed and looked reproachfully at her aunt:
“May! I asked you!”
The woman laughed:
“You look like a chipmunk when you're angry. Oh Penny, it's hard to believe you're already nineteen,” she shook her head and honked at the man in the pickup truck who cut her off. Penny rolled her eyes, but still couldn't hold back a smile.
They had a long goodbye at the train station, even though Penny had assured her aunt that she'd be there the first chance she got-if not for the weekend, then certainly for Thanksgiving. Still, as Penny waved to her aunt from the bus window, she noticed her aunt furtively wiping away her tears. Well, she must have been proud of her niece. Penny wanted to think that there was something to be proud of.
Most of the passengers were dozing - it wasn't a short journey to Boston - but Penny couldn't sleep. Worry came to her throat, and though her spider sense was silent, she couldn't get the bad thoughts out of her head. Only by the end of the journey she managed to convince herself that everything would be all right, that everyone would like her and that she would succeed in her studies, but as soon as Parker took a step off the bus, the anxiety came with renewed vigour.
She reached Cambridge with her heart pounding against her ribs as if it were going to break through them. It was nice to be able to choose her own dormitory and room, of course, but Penny had a vague idea of the difference between one building and another, and she didn't feel the need to live with anyone in particular. There were students everywhere in Cambridge: the older students were looking curiously at the new, unfamiliar faces, and Penny was uncomfortable with the attention, primarily because the only people who noticed her at school were Flash and his minions, and that was only to try to hurt her. A new shock awaited her when she met the curator, who informed her that a room had been paid for Penny Parker in Simmons Hall on Vassar Street. Deciding that May had done it, Penny just nodded and, satisfied and even more excited, headed for one of the most famous student residences in the world, where she was now to live with the other students. The dormitory building did look like a sponge, but it had mixed emotions for Penny, as she didn't really like glass and concrete buildings, which was probably why she was pleased with the abundance of wood in the interior. At the entrance she was met by the commandant who gave her the keys to a room on the seventh floor. Penny went upstairs, deciding to leave her things and then look round the dormitory and perhaps walk to the river.
Room two hundred and seventh. Well, she would make it.
There were students walking up and down the floor, but Penny wasn't interested in them now; everyone was too busy mostly rushing to the dining hall for dinner. Parker dragged her things in and was about to close the door when she noticed a girl standing at the window opposite her room. When she realised she was noticed, the blonde tilted her head slightly to the side and smiled.
“Hi!” she said, not too confidently, pulling herself away from the window sill and reaching out her hand to Penny, who was frozen in the doorway. “My name's Gwen Stacy, I'm your neighbour. My room is two hundred and eighth.”
“Oh, hello,” Penny shook her outstretched hand, noting how dry and soft her new acquaintance's hand was, and how moist her own was. Embarrassing. “I'm Penny Parker.”
“Is ‘Penny’ short for ‘Penelope’?” Gwen smiled radiantly again, releasing her hand and hiding it behind her back. Parker blushed:
"Just Penny is better. How long ago did you check in?"
“Last night. Would you like me to show you around?” Gwen offered, and Penny, smiling again, nodded gratefully. "Then I'll come and get you in a couple of minutes, just need to change my shoes.”
Before Gwen disappeared into her room, Penny closed her door and turned to look around the room. It was at this point that doubt crept in that May had paid for this room: the furnishings looked too expensive. It was a small, narrow corridor, with a door to the left that led to the bathroom, and a coat rack, a full-length mirror, and a shoe rack on the right. By the windows opposite the door stood an excellent computer desk and a comfortable-looking armchair on wheels; to the left was a double bed, opposite which was a narrow but capacious wardrobe. A couple of soft velour armchairs, a book rack and even a potted palm tree in the corner. Penny dropped off her things and frowned incredulously. There must be some mistake, she would have to check with the Commandant or Curator to find out exactly who had paid for her room and if there was any other Penny Parker here. Her musings were interrupted by a polite, brief knock on the door - Gwen had arrived - and Penny, deciding that the other things could wait, stepped out into the corridor, taking one last look round the room. The windows overlooked the sports field, with the Charles River visible beyond.
Gwen had not only changed into light running shoes, but also put her hair up in a low ponytail and threw on a windbreaker - she probably wouldn't mind walking to the river like that.
"Where are you from?" Gwen asked as they made their way down to the dining room.
“Queens. And you?”
“Manhattan,” Penny pursed her lips again. Everything was going wrong, like she was taking someone else's place. Why was she in this expensive dormitory, why was she socialising with this girl from Manhattan? Everything felt wrong somehow, but Penny didn't have time to think about it: Gwen kept chattering away, excited about her upcoming studies and college life. As they reached the dining room and ordered, Penny learned that her new roommate had wisely entered the biology department without the help of her father's connections, a captain of the New York Police, that she expected something amazing from student life and hoped that they would become friends. There were no free tables: the girls were frozen in confusion with trays full of food, but Gwen made her way confidently to a table in the far corner, where a blond guy sat alone. The only things on the tray in front of him were apple slices and yoghurt, but he didn't touch them either, staring at his smartphone.
"Hi! Can we sit here?" Penny breathed a sigh of relief as Gwen took charge of the situation. It seemed worth learning from her chutzpah and boldness. The guy, after hesitating for a couple of annoyingly long seconds, lifted his head and looked at the girls questioningly, but still nodded reservedly. They sat down, but Penny couldn't eat: a bite was in her throat, and she could literally feel the guy's eyes on her with her skin - he was looking at her from under lowered lashes, pretending to be interested only in the smartphone screen. Parker closed her eyes to calm her breathing and gather her thoughts. That's all. There is no reason to worry anymore: this is happening right now, one should not be afraid, but be in this moment. She has a chance to make friends, she can't miss it. She was already very lucky that Gwen had been the first to come up to meet her, otherwise Penny would have gone mad with anxiety and loneliness on the first day of school or at the freshers' party. It was always better to have someone to latch on to in a crowd of strangers. The girl exhaled and opened her eyes to meet the interested, lazy gaze of grey eyes. The stranger's unsympathetic but appealing face changed. He grinned crookedly and asked:
“Are you freshmen?”
“You are, as well,” Penny said randomly, but the guy suddenly laughed:
“Indeed. My name is Harry Osborn,” he reached across the table to shake first Penny's hand and then Gwen's in a welcoming gesture.
“Norman Osborne's son?” Stacy squinted her eyes and asked. Harry nodded and tucked his smartphone into his trouser pocket. The atmosphere at the table lightened, and while Harry chatted with Gwen, who was chewing and participating in the conversation, Penny was able to eat. She wasn't satisfied with her dinner: her body was insistent on demanding more, but it was strange to go for a second portion or to fill up on a mountain of food in front of new acquaintances, so Parker decided that she would go to the supermarket and buy something that could be stored in the room, like snacks and biscuits.
A group of seniors, consisting of two guys and a girl, were sitting at the next table, lazily eating and chatting about something quietly, punctuating their sentences with laughter. Penny, Gwen, and Harry looked like children next to them - not that the students looked much older, but there was a strange aura of confidence and calmness about them. They'd probably be like that in a few years, too. Not that Parker really wanted to grow up, but there are changes that a person can't prevent, and sooner or later she would be a real adult too. The only thing left to do is to enjoy what is happening and take everything from her youth, because she has decided to be normal. And what could be more normal than sitting in the cafeteria with her friends, having dinner and talking about something unimportant...?
She was pulled out of her musings by Harry's voice:
“Hey Parker, are you in IT too? I guess we'll have common subjects. By the way, there's a freshers' party tomorrow night at the ninth floor club. You guys going?”
Gwen brightened and nodded-she seemed to love parties. Penny wasn't much of a party girl, but to be honest, the only party she'd ever been to was the graduation party. It was unlikely that partying at MIT, especially in this hostel, where every other student is the son of a famous person, would be like a high school disco. Penny remembered how she had spent the entire graduation party propped up against the wall in the company of her high school girlfriends, sucking down punch that had no effect on her. That rare night when she'd wanted to get drunk, but because of the spider bite, she couldn't even do that. She'd ended up phoning May and asking her to pick her up just obscenely early, and yet, Penny considered herself a stalwart soldier, making it to at least midnight. She wrinkled her nose at the memory of the recent prom and returned to the much more pleasant present.
They agreed that Harry would pick up the girls before the party, exchanged numbers and social networking pages, and parted at the exit of the dining hall.
Gwen, as promised, showed them through the block's theatre, classroom, study hall, computer room, gymnasium, laundry room, and the photo lab, which Penny was particularly interested in. It was closed now, but Gwen said that a senior student hipster had been hanging around yesterday. Perhaps if there was some kind of photography club or student newspaper at MIT, it would be fun to join them. Parker's head was swelling with new information and impressions. They walked to the nearest supermarket, where Penny was too embarrassed to pick up full bags of food because Stacy was around, but she did take some food. They got back when it was dark. The Sponge was lit up with hundreds of small windows, making it look like a strobe light from afar. In the dining hall, students were still sitting outside the panoramic windows, busy with a late dinner and conversation, and a few boys were playing football on the sports field in front of the dormitory, unperturbed by the encroaching evening. Penny had a strange feeling: now all this was unfamiliar and unfamiliar to her, but she knew that very soon life in Sponge and the whole of MIT would become for her in a sense a second home.
Gwen and Penny said their goodbyes, wishing each other a good night and agreeing to go to the conference in the morning to celebrate the start of the school year in the main building together. Gwen was easy and pleasant to talk to: the blonde had a way of not boring the conversation, and the pauses didn't seem uncomfortable. Perhaps Penny would be glad to have such a friend, because if the first impression was not deceiving, Gwen was a very attentive and kind girl. Penny locked herself in, left the supermarket bag on the shoe rack and dropped into a chair. Her legs were aching - she'd walked too many miles today, and she needed to sort out her suitcase and get a good night's sleep, for tomorrow was going to be an important and busy day. Parker phoned May, feeling as if she'd left her aunt for good and somehow a little guilty, but the brief conversation gave her strength and calmed her anxiety as May cheered her niece on, wished her luck tomorrow and was pleased that Penny had met someone. Penny didn't ask about the dormitory, determined to find out for herself. Most likely May hadn't done it, which meant she didn't need to know about her sudden sponsor. In making this decision, the spidergirl didn't yet know that it was the first tiny brick in a huge wall of lies she would build between herself and her only family member. But everything was in order now, and Penny busied herself with sorting things out.
Soon the room was looking more settled, but it appeared that it was missing some of the little things she needed. Her first thought was to climb out the window and use the cobwebs to get to the twenty-four-hour convenience store, as she'd done sometimes in Queens when she'd stayed up late at night studying and wanted a snack, but going to the kitchen meant waking May. Penny clenched her teeth and shook her head, pushing the stupid idea away. Firstly, she'd left the shooters at home, and secondly, she was like everyone else now. Which meant, like a normal person, she'd go to the supermarket after the conference, when she had time before the party. That's it. Until then, she'll get by without napkins.
Deciding not to think about heroics, Penny lowered the blinds, drawn all the way up the wall because of the unusual window arrangement, took a shower, changed into her pyjamas and dived into bed, which she tucked in with clean linen. She thought she wouldn't be able to sleep for a long time, but as soon as her head touched the pillow, all thoughts were gone, and Parker fell into a dream.
Penny hated being late, but even more than that, she hated waking up later than planned and packing in a hurry. Ironically, however, on her first day at the university, she had overslept and woke up when the street noise from the ajar window became unbearable. She jumped up, grabbed her smartphone from the bedside table and almost howled: the conference was only an hour away. Of course, it would have taken her a lot longer to get to the main university building by rooftop, but since she'd decided to be completely ordinary, she had to take an hour off the available travel time. Penny showered hastily, washed her face, wrapped a towel around her head, put on her make-up in a hurry, and put on a shirt and skirt. Her hair predictably hadn't had time to dry, and now the wet black strands left wet marks on her shoulders and back, but Penny didn't care. As she flew out of the room, locking the door, Gwen appeared from the next room. She, too, wore an elegant Chanel suit and had her hair in a high ponytail. In short, she looked her best. Penny couldn't resist casting a glance at her converse, but smiled nonetheless:
“Good morning. You look great.”
“Morning” The blonde brightened up, and the two of them hurried up the stairs: "You overslept?"
“Yeah,” Penny didn't deny it.
“You still look great,” Gwen encouraged her.
As they walked briskly to the main university building, Penny's hair had dried in the still gentle September sun and was now a little curly. Gwen's heels clicked on the paving stones as she talked about her dream, and Penny listened, trying not to think about the fact that they were about to join a stream of freshmen like them, strangers now, but soon to be friends and mates. Her heart thudded again as they and the others entered the new doors with the old wrought iron frame, a tribute to the university's past. The architecture of the main building successfully combined tradition and modernity: massive columns and glass, wrought iron elements and concrete. It seems that in Cambridge not only Sponge could boast of its outstanding architecture.
It would be good to find the curator to find out about the sponsor, but it was impossible at the moment, as the place was bustling with activity: everyone was preparing for the upcoming conference, which was only ten minutes away. Gwen stopped talking. There was so much noise in the hall that it would have required a lot of loud talking. Penny pressed her lips together and fiddled with the strap of her bag. Her excitement seemed to have subsided, but her heart was still beating anxiously in her chest and the hairs on her arms were standing on end. Her gut wasn't exactly warning of danger, but rather it was tingling somewhere in the back of her head, as if something unpleasant was about to happen.
A familiar voice came from somewhere to her right through the clamour of students and faculty, and Penny turned round sharply, hoping to be sure she had heard it:
“...of course, Mrs Barnhart, uh-huh, I'd like to ....”
At the stairs stood the Chancellor of the University: a handsome, statuesque woman with an open smile, talking to none other than Mr Stark. In his black two-piece suit, which even looked expensive, his off-white shirt and tie tied tightly at the throat, he looked as if he had just stepped off the cover of a magazine. It took a second for him to feel Penny's gaze on him, remove his aviator sunglasses, and wave his palm at her, calling her over to him. The Chancellor looked questioningly into the crowd of students, but seeing nothing of interest, shifted her gaze back to Stark.
“Sorry, Gwen, I'll be right back.”
Penny wanted to run in the opposite direction of him. Or just ignore Stark, because she had no obligation to run at him as fast as she could when he called out to her, but her legs carried her in the direction of the stairs. Gwen remained standing there, staring at her perplexed, and when she realised who the new acquaintance was going to see, her mouth stretched into an ‘o’ and her eyebrows rose. Stark didn't take his eyes off Penny until she approached them. Not daring to look at the man, the spidergirl smiled embarrassedly at Mrs Barnhart:
“Good morning.”
“Hello, Miss Parker. Mrs Barnhart, this is Penny Parker, I told you about her,” Stark's hand came down on Penny's shoulders, she flinched and again let out a crooked uncertain smile, not knowing where to put herself. Her hands found the strap of her bag and began frantically rubbing it.
“I’ve read your essay, Miss Parker. I'm glad to see you among the MIT students,” Penny's eyes blurred: so much for staying unnoticed. I mean, she certainly wanted to be noticed by the Chancellor and the rest of the university administration, but for her academic achievements, creative work, or some kind of discovery, not because of what Mr Stark had ‘said’ about her. She gritted her teeth, trying to keep the irritation out of her voice, and tried to shake off Stark's hand, but as if anticipating it, he squeezed her shoulder with his fingers, wrinkling the still damp fabric of her shirt.
“Thank you,” Penny squeaked, and Stark immediately added:
“You have no idea what that girl is capable of. I don't think she has any idea, do you, Miss Parker?” He touched her cheek with his thumb, either to wipe away the unevenly distributed makeup or dirt or in some strange affectionate gesture that seemed too intimate in any case, especially since Penny still didn't understand what kind of relationship the chancellor thought she and Stark had or why he'd called her to him in the first place. To do what? To introduce Mrs Barnhart? Is this some sort of gratitude for her help in the battle with the Captain? In any case, Penny didn't need such favours. She had come here on her own, and she was going to do well on her own. Her cheek was flaming where Stark had touched it, but it was flaming with shame. Everyone in the hall seemed to be watching them, each seeing Stark violating her personal space as if they were family, friends, or lovers - none of which Penny was comfortable with and frankly horrified by. But of course no one was looking at them except the Chancellor, who continued to smile, and a bewildered Gwen.
"I'm very glad that such talented young people choose MIT, and you, Mr. Stark, support young talents," Mrs. Barnhart continued to pour pleasantries, but judging by her sincere smile, she really applauded Stark's zeal to help ‘young talents.’A sudden insight struck Penny. The realisation suddenly hit her head, and she gritted her teeth furiously, wriggled out from under Stark's arm and, throwing an angry glance at him, hissed:
"I'm sorry, I've got to go. The conference will start soon, I want to take a seat closer to the stage.”
Stark managed to grab her forearm as she turned and took a step in Gwen's direction, and she turned sharply toward him, and a cloud of dark hair shot into the air and immediately scattered over her shoulders. She wanted to cover his mouth with cobwebs, but Penny could only breathe heavily, feeling like a bull at a rodeo, only instead of a red rag, a maroon tie pulled down her throat. She had neither the strength nor the desire to look into his face, and even more so into his eyes.
"Wait for me after the conference, we need to discuss something."
For example, to discuss his interference in her life, is that right, Mr. Stark?
Penny didn't answer, nodded, and hurried to Gwen, who was waiting for her on the other side of the stairs. Noticing that Parker was clearly in a bad mood, Gwen only said that they needed to go up to the third floor and tapped her heels next to her. She could tell she couldn't wait to ask a few questions, but Penny was still stomping her heels furiously just behind the blonde, looking at her ponytail swaying as she walked. It had a calming effect.
Students were crowded at the door of the conference room, and it became quite clear that there were no seats in front for them. Penny was angry with herself now. She should have slept even longer, so she would have stood in the corridor. They still managed to get inside and take their seats in the middle of the hall.
"You can ask," she decided to speak to Gwen. Se didn't want to lose their budding friendship because of Mr. Stark and his eccentric antics. The blonde looked at Parker inquiringly and said:
"Why are you angry with him?"
Penny puffed out her cheeks and exhaled noisily, and then uttered the thought that had infuriated her for the past few minutes:
"Mr. Stark paid for my dormitory and I really hope that it is not thanks to him that I am listed as a student."
"I'm sorry, but why would he pay for you?" Gwen knitted her eyebrows, and Penny looked at her irritably, but explained:
"In the summer, I did him one... Favour. It seems that this is how he expresses his gratitude. Only I don't want this gratitude. Like... I live with my aunt, she doesn't earn millions. I entered MIT because my head doesn’t contain sawdust and cotton, but brains. And I expected an interesting student life, and when I arrived, it turned out that I was paid for a room in Sponge. It was him, I'm sure. I don't know anyone else who can afford such a gesture," the spider blurted out in one breath.
"So that was it," Gwen looked amazed, but not so much at the fact that Stark had patronised Miss Parker, who had done him a favour, but at her candour. Something inside Stacy shuddered: her former friends had rarely been so frank, especially when it came to something that really bothered them. While Gwen tried to cope with the unfamiliar sensations, Penny regretted her openness a hundred times over. But there was no turning back the words, which meant there was no point in regretting them. What was done was done. Maybe this would be good for her and Gwen's friendship. - Listen, here's what I think,’ the blonde finally said, leaning closer to Penny as the hall was buzzing like a beehive, "You wouldn't have needed Mr Stark's help to get into MIT. And the fact that he supported you financially should be seen on the bright side. You now live in a comfortable dormitory with a lot of senior students: neighbourhood is a good reason to learn from their experience, right? Older mates are always great. Besides, if you lived on any other campus, I don't think we'd have met, would we?"
Penny smiled awkwardly, a warm feeling spreading through her chest. Gwen's words were indeed soothing and reassuring. It was nice that Stacy didn't start asking questions about her relationship with Stark, that he allowed himself to publicly stroke her cheek, and didn't start accusing her of questionable ties to the billionaire who'd promoted the girl from Queens. She didn't even pay attention to the words about the favour, interpreting them in any but the most obvious and vulgar way. It did feel good, and Parker looked at Gwen appreciatively. The blonde didn't seem to care much about Penny's family's wealth or her connection to Stark. Gwen smiled back, and opened her mouth to say something else, but a male figure loomed over them, and a familiar voice asked playfully:
"Hello, girls. Is this seat taken?"
"Harry!" Gwen brightened, moving a little closer to Penny so that Osborn could sit next to them. "Hi."
Penny waved at him and wanted to ask how he was doing, but at that moment the lights went out and the music started. Parker thought her eardrums were going to burst: the clamour of the hall before seemed like blissful silence. The air was filled with deafening applause, and the darkness was cut by a blinding white beam of spotlight directed at the stage. It was joined by spotlights on the sides of the stage, and the screen on the back of the wall lit up with hundreds of lights. Of course, what was happening was torture only for Penny, the rest of the students were almost squealing with delight. The lights concentrated in the centre of the stage, and from backstage, Tony Stark stepped out into the circle of light to shouts from the crowd and loud clapping.
Parker gripped the armrests of the chair she was sitting in with her fingernails and didn't immediately realise that she was tearing the upholstery. She wished no one had noticed. But everyone, of course, didn't care that a freshman was defacing the university's property - all eyes were on Stark. Of course, how could one of the most famous alumni not come to his alma mater to give some valuable guidance to the young blood. He spread his arms in his signature gesture, savouring the applause and affection of the audience, and then greeted the gathering. His gaze slid down the rows as if looking for someone, and Penny, unable to look at his shirt shining like a supernova in the spotlight, fixed her gaze on her bare knees. She had to admit he looked much better than the last time they'd seen each other. They'd said their goodbyes in Stark's car, and he'd been annoyed that Penny hadn't agreed to take the suit, and he'd gone to open her door anyway, as if she hadn't been able to do it herself. It was only later that Penny realised that he had made that ambiguous gesture on purpose so that she would misinterpret it and he could smugly say:
"It's not a hug, it's me opening the door."
Peacock.
No, Stark didn't annoy her. Usually. She admired him, after all, as she did the other Avengers, and helping him was, by and large, welcome. But she didn't need anything: no costume, no shooters, no money, no connections. She remembered the battle with Captain Rogers as a rewarding experience and an interesting adventure, but she wouldn't dream of continuing her acquaintance with Stark. He inevitably dragged along with him all that superhero stuff that Penny was sick of and tried so hard to shut out.
While she was reminiscing, Stark gave his pep talk and left the stage, and Mrs Barnhart took his place.
The conference had taken no more than half an hour, and as they jostled towards the exit, Harry suggested that they go to a Mexican restaurant in Cambridge together—Penny wasn't too fond of spicy food, but she was willing to go to a Mexican restaurant for company. Inopportunely, her stomach reminded her of herself, in which there had not been a crumb since the evening, because she did not have time to have breakfast. But Parker decided that socialisation was more important than food and agreed to go to lunch with Harry and Gwen, completely forgetting that Stark wanted to talk to her about something after the conference.
However, he reminded her of this very quickly. She noticed him standing next to the taxi when she was coming down from the porch. It was difficult not to notice him: students clung to him, eager for an autograph, a photo or a couple of phrases. Stark glanced in her direction, noticed and gestured at her, just as he had in the hall. Penny couldn't see his eyes behind the dark panes of his glasses, and it was terribly infuriating.
"I completely forgot, I have some business to do. I'll see you at the party," she waved to Harry and Gwen in bewilderment. Parker rolled down the steps ahead of her friends, quickly covered the distance to the car and, bypassing it, pointedly ignoring both Stark and his fans, sat down in the seat behind the driver.
"Business with Stark?" Harry raised an eyebrow, following the car as it quickly pulled out of the parking lot. Gwen just clicked her tongue and shook her head.
"You're very silent today," Stark grinned as they pulled out onto Broadway, and Penny didn't say a word. At his phrase, she instantly flared up with shame: well, of course, Happy had long reported on her mouth that did not close.
"Where are we going, Mr. Stark?" She asked, trying to make her voice more cold.
"To eat," her stomach rumbled again, and Penny covered it guiltily with her hand and felt her cheeks burn. At the intersection, the taxi turned onto Hampshire Street, past a Jewish restaurant and a cultural center. Penny sat with her arms crossed over her chest and looked out of the window, and though she looked calm, there was rage inside her with renewed vigour. They drove past Elm & Hampshire Square and stopped at the Oleana Restaurant. Parker tumbled out of the car without waiting for Stark to offer her hand, and walked ahead of him to the door of the restaurant. It was crowded inside, the residents of Cambridge were celebrating the beginning of the school year. Penny was confused and froze on the threshold, not knowing where to sit, but Stark touched her shoulder and pushed her to the wide terrace.They sat down opposite each other, and Stark immediately called the waiter.
"Moussaka, please, lamb sarma, some fresh salad, a basket of bread, cheesecake for dessert. On a second thought, two cheesecakes. A jug of freshly squeezed juice... What is your favourite?”
"Grapefruit," the waiter gave Penny a short, interested look.
"Grapefruit. And a pot of green tea with bergamot. And a bottle of white wine, the best you have.”
The waiter clarified the order and left, leaving them alone. Penny had hung her bag on the back of her chair and was now sitting with her hands awkwardly folded in her lap. She wanted to start a conversation, but the food smelled too delicious, so she simply could not concentrate on anything else. Stark clicked on his fancy phone, not paying any attention to Penny. Finally, the first hot dish was brought, Stark nodded to the waiter - he put it next to Penny. Parker, not believing her luck, dug her teeth into the juicy mutton. Next, she destroyed the moussaka, emptying the salad plate and the jug of juice, and now she could think soberly.
"I'm sorry," she said as the waiter took away the empty plates and placed two cheesecakes and a pot of tea in front of her. Stark had been sipping a glass of wine all this time, and now he was looking at her questioningly, "Due to my accelerated metabolism, I have certain problems due to a change in diet. May knew I ate a lot, so there was always plenty of food at home, and here I don't have time for anything yet.
"All good. I knew you were starving here," Stark said, taking off his glasses. Penny, who had warmed up a little after a hearty dinner, did not really want to be angry with him, but the man began the conversation first: "Well, why did you throw lightning at me in the hall this morning?"
"Did you pay for my dormitory?" a question to a question, very civilised, Miss Parker.
"Yes," well, she shouldn't have hoped that he would even try to hide it. "Relax, I'm not trying to buy you. It has nothing to do with the fact that you helped me in the summer.”
"Is that so? Did I come here because you had a word for me? I don't need your gratitude. I helped you — you gave me shooters. We're even, get off me.”
Stark sighed, set his glass down on his napkin, and leaned closer, his arms crossed over his chest and leaning on the edge of the table. He squinted, looking Penny straight in the eyes, and said:
"You left the shooters with your aunt, am I right?"
"Why does it matter?"
“That's what I wanted to talk to you about.”
“You didn’t answer my question, Mister Stark”
He rolled his eyes as if she were distracting him from an important conversation, though Penny frankly didn't understand what could be more important than the question of how she had actually ended up at MIT.
“No, I did not contribute to this in any way. You deserve a scholarship because of your position: you live with a guardian, in case you suddenly forgot. And because of your knowledge. Mrs. Barnhart actually read your essay and liked it. I talked to her about you, that's true, but it was after you were enrolled. Let's put it this way: I was worried about your accommodation during your studies at the university, and I was allowed to pay for it along with the charitable contribution that I make every year. Just forget about it, there are much more important things. No one cares who paid for your dorm, Parker.”
Penny pursed her lips as she listened to the man's explanation. He sounded like he was talking to a child.
"Your face looks like you have a frog sitting in your mouth," Stark commented and took another sip. Penny's appetite had gone. She was picking at cheesecake with a dessert fork and did not look at Stark.
"Well," she said after a short pause, "what did you want to talk about?"
"I wanted to offer you something," Stark took the second glass, which had been empty before, and poured some wine into it. He handed the glass to Penny, "Internship."
"Internship?" She asked stupidly, looking at the glass that the man was handing her, and resolutely not understanding what was happening. "What do you mean?"
“It's very simple. Stark Industries constantly provides jobs for MIT students, regularly invites them to internships, courses and excursions. So I offer you an internship. To begin with, let's say, for a year. You'll come to the Tower every weekend and work with me. I'll pay you a stipend - you'll even be able to help your dear aunt. Don't worry about the road: my helicopter will get to Manhattan in an hour, everything is better than shaking for four hours on the bus, right? Well, as a result, you will be able to stay in the corporation. And if you don't want to, with such an internship under your belt and my personal recommendation, you will easily get a job wherever your heart desires.”
Just as Penny opened her mouth, not really knowing what she wanted to say: to express gratitude and accept a generous offer or to ask Stark to fuck off , he beat her to it:
"Wait. Of course, by "internship" I mean not only scientific activity. I want you to put on the costume again.”
Parker shut her mouth and jumped to her feet. There was no need to say anything else. Whatever Stark said now, nothing mattered. With one phrase, he crossed out his undoubtedly profitable offer. Perhaps too generous to act as a thank you for her help, but still Penny would not refuse without thinking: an internship at Stark Industries opened up wide prospects. Too wide to be discarded. She could have found an excellent use of her talents, worked with the smartest people in the States, achieved success with her own mind, but... No costume. No heroic activity.
The cutlery on the table clanked as she rose sharply, and the countertop she clung to creaked desperately.
"Thank you for lunch, Mr. Stark. Take care.”
Stark leaned over the small table and grabbed her by the forearm, stopping her and turning her towards him. Once again.
"Listen to me, Parker."
“I don't want to listen to you. And I won't wear your stupid costume anymore. I'm not a hero, okay? And I don't want to become one.”
Before he could say anything in response, she wrenched her hand from his clasped fingers—she was losing control again, using her power, she needed to calm down, just calm down, and everything would be fine. As Penny walked towards the exit, Stark called out to her a couple of times, but did not follow. So he didn't really need it. She went outside and walked past the plaza to the grocery store, remembering Aunt May's joke that shopping was the best way to calm down. After picking up food, she decided to walk to Sponge on foot. A walk in the fresh air put her thoughts in order a little. Back in the dormitory, Penny didn't go to lunch, but locked herself in her room. She put the food she bought in the bottom drawer of the table, pulled the converses off her buzzing legs, took a shower, changed her clothes and laid down on the bed over the bedspread. She was sick of her own inappropriateness in this room, where everything breathed expensiveness and gloss. The furnishings, though modest at first glance, were tastefully made, and everything from the parquet floors to the linens betrayed the fact that Stark had a hand in Penny's settlement in Sponge. The girl shook her leg, hypnotising the empty bookcase and thinking in the back of her mind that she needed to go to the library and borrow literature for study. The main stream of thought was about Stark. Penny replayed everything that had happened today over and over in her head: the way he beckoned her with his hand and she walked even though she didn't want to, the way he treated her with dinner, and, most importantly, what he said. Yes, a good offer, no doubt. And at the same time terrible. Parker grimaced, remembering how the spandex had hugged her body, how her long hair had been tied up under her mask, how she had fought, not really knowing what to do, acting more instinctively and relying on her learned reactions. Great experience. But only experience. This cannot become her life.
Stark didn't really have time to say anything to her, but he did the main thing - he pushed the train of her thoughts in the right direction. Penny pressed the pillow to her chest and clenched her eyes. It was embarrassing to admit, but she was simply scared.When she lived in Queens, she felt on her own territory, she felt protected. Every time she helped people on the streets of her neighbourhood, she was guided by a momentary impulse that she could not resist. At such moments, both fear and the desire to keep her identity and abilities a secret receded. The only goal left was to help, to save, because there was no one else to do it. But as soon as she began to think about doing it regularly, she was shackled by a terrible feeling: she was a girl - how could she even stand up to a gang of bandits armed to the teeth?! Sometimes Penny had nightmares in which she had to fight with brutes hung with guns, and on such nights she woke up from her own scream. To survive this horror in reality was definitely beyond her strength. Mr. Stark demanded too much of her. Maybe it was easy for him to put on a suit and save people, but not for her. She is not a hero, what happened to her - is a fatal mistake that cannot be corrected.In order not to torment herself, Parker began to get ready for a party for freshmen. She wanted to distract herself and make a good impression. She styled her hair, put on make-up, and put on a simple black dress that accentuated her waist that appeared after the spider bite, and then left her room and knocked on Gwen's door.
She quickly opened it.
"Hi, Penny. Come on, I'm not done with my hair yet. Can you help with the zip line?” Stacy smiled, turned her back, and threw her hair over her shoulder. Parker fastened the lock on a light champagne dress. "Oh, you have such hair! It turns out that it just needed to be brushed," she laughed. Gwen turned her face, beamed again, and touched her black locks with her hand. Penny smiled sheepishly and followed Gwen into the room. The blonde had a room almost identical to Penny's, only stacks of books were already piled up on the shelf. Penny's conscience pricked her, reminding her that she preferred lunch with Stark to preparing for her studies. Gwen curled her hair into light curls in front of the mirror and at the same time chattered about how she and Harry were walking almost to the other end of Cambridge, because all the restaurants and cafes were packed with students and teachers celebrating the beginning of the school year. Parker tried to force herself to forget all about the conversation with Mr. Stark - thanks to Gwen, who did not ask anything, but distracted with jokes, pretending to be angry with Osborn.
"I don't think he's what he wants to seem," Gwen said, pulling Penny out of her thoughts.
"Who are you talking about?"
"Oh, Harry, of course," the girl pulled the curling iron from the socket, put it on the table, and shook her hair, giving it volume. "And who did you think of?"
Gwen was smiling, and Penny blushed, feeling like she couldn't be more straightforward. But the blonde did not say anything, only explained with a smile:
“It is probably difficult to be the heir to Oscorp. I saw his father, Norman. A man of steel, not very pleasant. Perhaps Harry wanted to be like him. But I am sure that deep down he is a very soft and sweet guy. Otherwise, he would have sent us to hell in the dining room, wouldn't he?"
"Yes," echoed Penny.
“Text him that we're waiting for him at my place," Gwen put on her high-heeled sandals, and Penny couldn't help smiling: this girl knew how to look feminine, and perhaps she didn't need curls and heels for that.
The party went better than Parker could have expected. The loud music, the flashing lights, and the beats thumping in her chest bothered her at first, but she soon got used to it - a few shots of tequila helped, above all. Her future classmates watched with respect and admiration as Penny tipped one shot after another into herself. They couldn't have known that in order to feel even a little drunk, the girl needed a much larger portion than ordinary people. Because of this, Penny could not get the thought of her powers and, as a consequence, the conversation with Stark and his proposal out of her mind. Finally, the alcohol fogged her brain for a while, and Penny even went dancing-though then she decided that tramping through the crowd next to Gwen and Harry would be too loud to call it dancing. Still, she felt well, fun and warm.
And the next day classes started.
Getting into her studies was not as difficult as Penny had feared. The first week of school went seamlessly. Parker met the president of the art photography club at the university science magazine. The guy looked at Penny's work and was pleased, and advised her to take pictures for the student newspaper. Every day except Wednesday, Penny's classes started in the afternoon, and on Wednesday there was one lecture in the morning. She was lucky: she and Harry had almost the same subjects, so Penny wasn't alone in finding the right classroom and building. By Friday she was more or less familiar with the Cambridge area and could go to the shops without using Google maps. By the end of the week she had a routine she liked. Penny was used to waking up early, eating breakfast, studying for classes, or just reading, rarely in her own room and more often in the study hall, or with her laptop on a sofa in the dorm hallway or at a table in the bakery on Albany Street and Waverly Street. After lunch - classes, then a walk with Gwen in one of the nearby parks. Sometimes Harry would join them. They would return to the dormitory when the bulk of the students had already eaten dinner, and ate quietly, without hurrying. After dinner they parted ways, but Gwen made it a habit to drop in on Penny afterwards - she'd usually be in her office chair, and they'd chat about something girly.
Penny was really enjoying everything. She felt like a normal student, a student who went to classes and spent time with her fellow students. There were seventeen people in her group, and by the end of the first academic week Parker had already memorised almost everyone, but she hadn't begun to socialise closely with anyone. She suspected that potential friends were repelled by her company in the form of the frowning Harry, who, however, only seemed repulsive. Having spent a lot of time with him in class, Penny had quickly grown accustomed to him. Her new acquaintances were polar opposite, but Penny was comfortable with them individually and collectively. Gwen talked a lot and liked to be touched, while Osborn avoided physical contact, even casual, but talked business or made witty comments that made the girls laugh until their sides ached. Penny felt normal, and it was a wonderful feeling.
It bothered her a little that Stark had backed off so easily, but on the other hand, you don't repeat such offers twice. So she decided to just let it go and enjoy what she had. She would achieve everything and do just fine without Stark's help.
The weather was forecast to be fine for the weekend, and the trio were going to go to Boston to wander the Public Garden, visit the Museum of Fine Arts, and dine at some junk food restaurant. Penny woke up on Sunday morning excited: she quickly got ready, dressed comfortably, put her hair up in a ponytail and grabbed her camera case. It would be fun to take pictures of Gwen and Harry in the park. Just as she was putting on her shoes, there was a knock at her door. On the doorstep stood Osborn alone. At Penny's questioning look, he explained:
“Gwen isn't well and won't be going, but she said if we stayed in Spongebob out of solidarity she'd twist our heads off. I promised to bring her some doughnuts.”
Penny shrugged her shoulders. She texted Stacey on Facebook, wishing her a speedy recovery. She and Harry walked out of the dormitory, round the sports field and down Memorial Drive to the Longfellow Bridge. It was a short walk to the garden from there. The weather was truly glorious, with a light but fresh breeze blowing off the ocean and the September sun beating down and caressing the summer-warmed streets with its rays. All the way they lazily discussed their homework. Osborn and Penny spent about an hour in the garden: they looked at a couple of monuments, Penny had taken out her camera, and now the SLR hung around her neck and the case dangled on her shoulder. Finding nothing of interest in the garden, they walked out into the city, past Northeastern University to the Museum of Fine Arts and stayed there for nearly two hours. Penny had to hide her camera as photography was forbidden in the museum. After that, it was a strategic decision to grab a bite to eat and go to Brooklyn Reservoir Park. While they ate a hamburger lunch, Penny, having quickly dealt with her double portion, talked Harry into letting her take his picture. The pictures were not outstanding, but the sunlight and Osborne's good mood did their job: he was smiling, and the smile made his face look beautiful. Penny was pleased with the result.
The walk to Brooklyn Reservoir, Penny felt, would take its toll, though she was beginning to get used to it - she walked all the time in Cambridge, and the distances between buildings, cafes and shops were very short. Harry had bought a bun and was diligently feeding the ducks in the lake, competing for the attention of the feathered creatures with others who wanted to feed the lake's inhabitants. Penny settled herself on a bench nearby with one knee to her chest and lazily photographed Osborn from the back while he didn't see or pretended not to see. After feeding the bread to the ducks, he returned to her with an uncertain smile wandering across his face and said he'd step back to get the doughnuts. Penny rested her head on the back of the bench. The sun's rays tangled in the lacy foliage of the tree she was sitting under. Everything was so utopically beautiful that the reality of the day was hard to believe. Harry, as promised, returned very soon with two tall glasses with the Starbucks logo on them and two boxes of doughnuts.
“One for Gwen,” he explained, “I didn't know what kind of drink you got at Starbucks, so I got you an iced sweet latte with hazelnut syrup. You're not allergic to nuts, are you?”
“No, I'm good. Thank you,” Parker accepted the glass, which was pleasantly cool, with ice cubes bouncing against the plastic walls. The doughnuts, still warm, with sweet glaze, were insanely delicious. Penny thought the day couldn't get any better, but it kept getting better.
“Tony Stark- is someone like your mentor?”
Penny choked and coughed. Perhaps she'd been too quick to call it a beautiful day-it was rapidly slipping down the scale to ‘so-so.’ Coughing, Parker turned to Harry, who was still staring at her calmly, drinking his coffee through a straw. He arched an eyebrow, waiting for a response. Penny ran her eyes over his face, trying to find a catch, hoping he'd say something like ‘relax, I'm just kidding, I don't care at all what your connection to Stark is now'. But Harry remained silent. He set his glass down on the bench between them, where an open half-empty box of doughnuts already stood, and repeated:
“So?”
“Is that why you've been hanging out with me all this week? You needed to find out what my business was with Stark?” she wheezed. Suddenly she remembered that Harry was the heir to Oscorp, and by the way, Norman Osborn was far from being on friendly terms with Stark. It was likely that Harry had told his father that he had seen a certain Penny Parker from Queens getting into Tony Stark's car, and he had told his son to find out the details. Penny didn't give a damn about Stark's business and all that rich and powerful people stuff, but she did care about her own peace of mind and safety - she had no intention of becoming some kind of pawn in their games. Penny realised that the glass she was holding in her hand was about to burst and she unclenched her fingers a little too sharply. Harry calmly watched it roll and stopped, resting it against his leg.
”Yeah, I was just wondering. Look, I know what you're thinking,” his tone took on a strange softness, “but I'm not in a kind of relationship with my father to help him or anything. So... I wasn't asking as the heir to Oscorp, but as your classmate and dorm mate. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, I basically don't care.”
He shrugged and turned away, looking at the ducks and the sunlight on the water. Penny unclenched her fists, regaining her composure. She bent down, picked up the glass and tossed it into a nearby bin. These simple actions brought her calm back, and she still shared without a waver in her voice:
“Mr Stark was offering me an internship.”Harry's eyebrows went up, but before he could say anything, Penny added: “I turned it down.”
“Why?” Was all he asked. Parker hesitated, but still said:
“I wasn't satisfied with his terms.”
“I see.”
“Yes.”
They fell silent. Penny looked at Osborn, at his profile and the sharp line of his jaw, and he was still watching the ducks. The sun was gradually slipping towards the horizon curved by the roofs of houses and trees - it would be good for them to get back to Sponge before dark, Penny still had to finish preparing for tomorrow's lectures. As much as she tried to pretend that everything in her life was easy, simple and normal, it definitely wasn't like that at all, and as soon as she relaxed, the world rushed to remind her that it wasn't as nice and friendly as it seemed. If her friendship with Gwen had been given the green light, Harry was even more alarming to her now than he had been before, when he seemed like an exceptionally gloomy type. No one was forcing her to put his name in the ‘best friends till death’ column, but she could leave Osborn on the list of just mates and classmates.
"Shall we take the bus? The doughnuts are getting cold," she smiled, easing the tension and letting him know that the awkward conversation hadn't changed the way she felt about Harry. He didn't need to know what she was thinking: that she was scared, confused and upset. They went upstairs, Harry fetching the box, discarding his empty glass. Penny made herself comfortable with the camera case and followed Harry to the bus stop.
“Have you been taking pictures for a long time?” Harry asked, trying to resume the casual conversation.
“A couple of years, first on a snapshot camera for almost a year, and then my aunt gave me this baby for Christmas," she stroked the case and smiled at her memories. Osborn said nothing and looked off into the distance, looking for the right bus. It happened very quickly: a rubbish truck came round the corner, speeding at breakneck speed straight for the bus stop. It swerved onto the pavement, bouncing on the low kerb. Penny didn't have much time to think - it was obvious that the rubbish truck was going to hit as many people as possible, including Osborn, who, like everyone else, was frozen in place with terror in his eyes. Parker shoved her camera in his hands and raced towards the truck, feeling a bit like Edward from that very scene in Twilight in the school car park. Except Harry's Bella wasn't so good.
“Parker!”
Harry's voice. Some woman screamed at the same time, but Penny was definitely not interested in them.
She bumped into the truck, and instead of crushing the girl, turning her into a sad lump on the pavement, it slowed down. Penny pressed her palms against the chrome bumper, the rubbish truck dragged her forward a couple of metres, and then stopped completely. The cab opened and a thin man in dark clothes jumped out.
“Call the police!” shouted the girl to the stunned crowd. Someone reached for the phone. Penny was breathing heavily, not so much from the exertion as from the adrenaline rush in her head. She should have run after him, and Penny would have caught up with him, but that meant turning him in to the police herself and explaining to them how it was that she had stopped the truck and caught the culprit. Figuring that it was still a police matter, and she'd risked enough already, she grabbed Osborne's arm and ran with him further away from the scene.
She stopped a few miles later, near the Museum of Fine Arts, where they had been walking a few hours before, but only because Osborn was wheezing and begging to stop running; Penny herself would probably have made it to the dormitory by air and swam across the Charles if she had to.
They ducked into an alleyway, Harry leaning against the wall, breathing heavily, not taking his unfocused and shocked gaze off Penny. She was breathing hard too - not from running, from fear. She could be caught, she could be recognised. Probably never had her secret been so close to ceasing to be a secret. Worst of all, Osborn would now demand an explanation, but what could he say? ‘You imagined it?’ Hardly the stuff of imagination.
“Nothing happened,” Penny finally chose what she thought was the safest option: denial.
“But…”
“No, Harry, nothing happened. You didn't see anything, and if you tell anyone, I'll wring your neck.”
He swallowed and nodded:
“I'll call a taxi.”
She hadn't really intended to wring Osborne's neck, but now that he saw the power she had in her hands, he wasn't likely to argue. What struck her most was the fact that Harry didn't run away from her screaming, but stood there calmly waiting for the taxi, though she could see the effort it took to keep him calm. It was only a short drive, but as Penny sat down in the soft seat, she realised how terribly exhausted she was. She was still terrified, but now it was all behind her. Her heart beat madly against her ribs, the only thing Parker prayed as she clutched her eyes shut was that no one would find out. But of course that was foolishness: it was bright outside, and there were a bunch of people at the bus stop and all around. Surely someone had even managed to film it. At the thought that her face might appear all over the media, Penny broke into a cold sweat.
Suddenly Osborne's warm palm touched her hand. She opened her eyes and looked at him questioningly. She must have looked like a cornered doe. Harry didn't squeeze her palm harder, didn't stroke it, just spoke softly:
“Everything's all right, Penny.”
The taxi parked in front of the dormitory.
No, nothing's all right. She'd stopped a rubbish truck at full speed with her bare hands half an hour ago, and there were plenty of witnesses. Nothing’s alright.
Rumours of a prevented terrorist attack were spreading through Boston and Cambridge with cosmic speed. As Penny and Harry walked to the seventh floor, her keen hearing picked up bits and pieces of conversation - discussion, of course. If she could just erase everyone's memory, like in Men in Black, Penny's life would definitely be easier. They were met on the floor by Gwen, dishevelled, in pyjama trousers and a sweatshirt, who flew up to them and grabbed Penny by the shoulders:
“Oh my God, Harold, Penny, why is it so hard to answer the fucking phone?! I almost lost my mind, you bloody morons! Are you okay?” she wasn't crying, but her eyes were red and her lips were trembling. Penny was flailing helplessly in the blonde's arms, unable to say anything.
“We're fine, Penny is...tired. I think she'd better be alone,” Harry comforted Stacey, who put her hands around Penny's face and examined her carefully for any visible injuries. Satisfied with the result, she escorted Parker to her room. Harry left the camera case on the shoe rack and then they left. Penny was actually more than glad to finally be alone: she locked herself in and slid down the door to the floor. Her heart was still pounding somewhere in her throat. With trembling hands, she pulled her smartphone out of her jeans pocket and opened the news feed.
‘In Boston, an unknown heroine prevented a terrorist attack at a bus stop. According to preliminary reports, casualties were avoided. The number of lives saved has yet to be counted.’
The news was accompanied by a blurry photo: a screenshot from a surveillance camera in a shop opposite the bus stop. Penny's figure was barely recognisable in the image. Probably not even May would recognise it. Parker looked through all the other portals covering the news, but found no other pictures. She breathed a sigh of relief when her mobile came to life with May's call.
"Yeah, I'm fine. It's okay, no, I wasn't even there. Don't worry. I love you too," it was even easier to lie to her aunt when she was more than two hundred miles away. But she didn't need to know the truth. And that was another brick of lies between them.
Penny sniffled, got up off the floor, tossing her smartphone on the shelf next to her briefcase, and went to wash her face. In the reflection, her gaze seemed completely insane. She should probably get changed and go to dinner, her stomach rumbled. Even though she'd just eaten doughnuts, the stress and exertion were taking their toll. Her mobile phone buzzed in the corridor, announcing an incoming message. Penny wiped her face and hands with a terry towel and, tucking her unruly strands behind her ears, went to read the incoming message. The message came from an unfamiliar number, but it wasn't hard to guess who had sent it:
"Excellent work, little spider."