Chapter One

Peter walked miserably down the hall, trying his best to divert his eyes away from Gwen. It was difficult indeed. She was so incredibly gorgeous that Peter felt slightly breathless when standing anywhere near her. In fact, he felt so breathless, that he felt as though he may faint at any moment. He took deep, but quiet breaths as he strode lowly down the crowded hallway.

"So Peter," Gwen suddenly muttered. Peter flung his head up at the feminine, sweet voice. "What do you think are the chances of you making the debate team?"

Peter blinked. " be honest, Gwen, I don't see it as very likely. I'm not a very aggressive person, I'm very...umm...un..."


"Unaggressive," Peter murmured, slightly embarrassed at how weak his voice sounded when he spoke to her.

Gwen rolled her eyes. "Well, I think you could make it. You need to trust in yourself more, Peter."

"Well, yes, but, well I tend to---I'm worried."

Gwen nodded. "Typical. You're always worried about everything. You'll do fine! Just be yourself."

Yeah, be myself, Peter thought in disgust. I'm a worthless nerd. The bottom of the food chain, and the least liked person in school.

Gwen stopped. She looked at Peter. "I'm serious. You are my best friend. And if you respect yourself, then others will respect you too." Gwen wrapped her arms around Peter and hugged him. Peter's eyes widened. Am I really getting hugged by Gwen Stacey?

"Thanks," he said sheepishly.

She smiled sweetly. "Now you should probably run if you want to make it to the try-outs in time."

"I'm a slow runner though," Peter whined jokingly.

Gwen giggled. "Get outta here, Parker."

Peter nodded. He turned and started to run away. He sprinted around a corner.


Peter ran right into Flash Thompson! Peter fell to the ground.

"Sorry Flash!" he said quickly, as Flash towered over him with an angry expression on his face.

"That's it, Puny Parker," he said furiously, reaching down and grabbing him by the collar. "You are so dead!"

Peter trembled in fear as Flash began to unleash his anger.


Peter sighed. He pushed himself slowly out of the trash can and fell flat on his face on the concrete. Ouch, he whined as he rubbed his black eye and most likely fractured arm.

There was no way he was going to make it to the try-outs now.

The End

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