Am I (Not) a Hero?

[Peter Parker's POV]

"Hmm, then we understand each other."

Olivia broke into a pleased smile and beckoned me with her finger.

"In any case, could you come here?"

"Something about my test?"

I stuck to our story.

"You know you can't make mistakes on such basic tests, Peter. No, I want you to evaluate my project. I told you about it last week, remember?"

She moved aside a bit, but I still had to lean over her shoulder to see the project on the screen.

Peter hadn't noticed the rather pleasant smell of his teacher's shampoo.

However, I don't think it would be appropriate to enjoy that too obviously.

I'm not a perverted fetishist.

No, seriously.

"Prosthetics controlled by neural signals… Direct connection to the nervous system… Neurointerfaces…"

"This project is at least capable of helping disabled people worldwide and it could pave the way to a cyberpunk era."

It's the first day, and I'm being presented with a potential pathway for the future of all humanity.

I don't know what I did to deserve this.

"Exactly, Peter! Do you understand?"

She asked, looking into my eyes.

"Stark Industries rejected my proposal, even though we could have achieved so much! I offered Stark co-authorship in a project capable of showing the world into a new era in exchange for the designs of an arc reactor, but he refused. But neither you nor I consider that exchange unequal, do we?"

She waited for my agreeing nod and turned back to the screen.

"What about Oscorp?"

I asked.

"Remember one thing, Peter. Never go crawling to Norman Osborn."

Octavius replied sharply.

"He's no longer a scientist; he's not even human anymore. All that's left of him is a businessman obsessed with power. Look at Harry; you've known him much longer than I have. He even sees his son as a failed business project."

She lowered her voice so only I could hear.

"Money doesn't stink, but it doesn't apply to the Osborns. I can't tell you everything, but believe me."

"Hammer Industries?"

"I don't want to develop just weapons, Peter. If that were the limit of my dreams, I would have been working for Stark a long time ago."

"Okay, principles. I get it. So where do you see me in all this?"

"I'm getting to that. You're going on a tour of the Oscorp laboratories today. Norman isn't a fool; this trip is a great opportunity to recruit the best of you while you're still young. You in particular. It's unlikely that old Osborn hasn't noticed you around his son. He can't be that neglectful."

She scoffed boldly but then became serious.

"You'd be surprised, Miss Octavius. You'd be so surprised."

"To the point. I would like you to work with me, Peter. Oscorp won't reveal your full potential, and Norman won't let you escape the stuffy laboratories to shine as a scientist and inventor. But in a team, our genius could reach the heights of science and change the world. And I'm not speaking metaphorically; I mean it literally."

Olivia's eyes were lit with passion and enthusiasm.

I could see a person truly captivated by the idea.

It hasn't turned into obsession and madness yet, but only until the first truly major failures.

When the world breaks dreamers like these, they respond by breaking the world's knees.

"And you're proposing a partnership in a project capable of changing the world to a ninth-grader?

Well, Peter had never been an ordinary ninth-grader.

"Moreover, I'll let you in on a secret: Harry initiated the tour of Oscorp to boost his ego. Norman Osborn doesn't care about mere mortals. He sits in his evil corporation, concocting plans for world domination."

I shook my head.

"Are you sure about what you're saying?"

I asked.

"Harry went to the principal to organize it, so I'm confident. Mr. Osborn simply allowed him to show off."

I shrugged.

"Although I don't deny the possibility of us being offered work, they'll unlikely actively recruit us."

Hearing my arguments, she lowered her hands in disappointment, and her expression changed, but then her smirk returned to her lips.

"This is what happens when someone makes hasty decisions without all the necessary information."

Olivia leaned back in her chair, covering her eyes with the back of her hand.

"It's a bit awkward, isn't it?"

"It happens to everyone, professor."

I waved it off, trying to hide my smile.

"But that doesn't mean I'm not interested in your offer."

She shot me a glance from behind the gap between her fingers, confirming my sincerity to overcome her embarrassment.

Sitting up straight in her chair, Olivia sighed and flipped through a few slides back to the very beginning.

"I'll be honest with you; I currently only have a concept, my initial developments, and a little savings. I still need to find a proper space for a laboratory. There's still plenty of work to do before creating the first prototypes… Unfortunately, I can't decide the fate of the world on a kitchen table."

She laughed to herself.

"So starting in ninth grade is just right if you're interested."

"That's true…"

I acknowledged the lack of our resources.

"Think about my proposal, but I'm not rushing you. You can check out Oscorp; maybe you'll even like it there."

She shrugged, but it was said completely insincerely.

Olivia was definitely not the type of person who could control her emotions.

"I agree to the partnership, professor."

I waved off her ridiculous suggestion to check out Oscorp.

"I take it we need money? A lot of money."

"I'll cover the expenses for now. I understand that a teenager can earn very little."

She sadly propped her chin on her fist.

"We'll discuss it later; class is starting soon, and you can try not to think about it too seriously until winter break. It's too ambitious a project for two people, and who knows how life will unfold."

'If only you knew, Doctor Octopus, if only you knew…'

"We'll see."

I jokingly raised my fist, trying to lighten her gloomy mood.

"A team of broke but brilliant scientists. We'll conquer the world!"

"Take your seat, Mr. Parker."

She turned to the computer, hiding a faint smile.

"For now, there's only one brilliant scientist among us, but I'll get you up to my level."

I sat down at my desk.

Soon, the bell rang, and the rest of the class filed in and all the familiar faces settled in pairs at their desks.

MJ and Liz Allan, Flash and Kong, Gwen Stacy and His Majesty Harry Osborn in the flesh.

Cindy was sitting in the back of the class with someone whose name Peter didn't bother to remember.

Usually, no one sat next to me except for other losers wanting to copy.

So we live.

However, today seemed to be unusual.

Jessica Campbell sat down next to me and tossed her bag onto the table.

I was familiar with her name… she was supposed to become a detective superhero. She would have run-ins with some purple jerk capable of controlling people.

That's how the purple jerks are in the Marvel world—they just ruin people's lives.

"Did you have a fight with Elizabeth?"

I asked before thinking.

Jessica was a pretty gloomy and withdrawn girl who mainly communicated with Elizabeth "Betty" Brant, the daughter of some employee at the Daily Bugle.

'There are two types of people in this school. The first is the smart but introverted losers, and the second is the not-so-bright wealthy socialites. And, of course, the gray mass of normies."

"Not really."

She replied, trying not to look me in the eyes.

"There won't be any tests today, but if you need anything, you can copy my notes."

I nudged my notebook toward her, and she nodded gratefully.

"Strange, but fine. Let her sit."

The lesson was a bit boring, no offense to Olivia.

Peter had already read all of this beforehand.

It's tough being a genius; this feeling was new to me.

My seatmate occasionally glanced at me, and I couldn't understand her problem with me.

She had never talked to Peter before.

However, I was also sneaking glances at her.

Jessica was about the same height as Cindy and had quite an impressive figure for a teenager.

She had long black hair, dark green eyes, and slightly plump lips painted with black lipstick. She wore black jeans, a grey tee under a leather jacket, and black fingerless gloves.

They say "hot goth gf" right? In any case, she had style, and I could appreciate that aesthetically.

...

As I moved from one class to the next to avoid Flash, I almost missed the lunch break.

Jessica Campbell persistently sat with me in every class, but she didn't make any obvious attempts to talk to me.

She was eating quietly across from me while I read a book at lunch today.

We were in the cafeteria, and my flip phone didn't even have Snake, so I was forced to read.

I couldn't be distracted by the two losers in Flash's group yelling over everyone and throwing food at some unlucky nerds.

However, I couldn't understand American youth—sixteen-year-olds in ninth grade.

It was about time they got their act together. I behaved much more reasonably at their age.

"Maybe because you never knew how to have fun?"

Someone would ask me.

I wouldn't respond because no one actually asked. I just pose questions to myself and answer them.

It's my hobby—worrying about imagined situations.

However, did Flash really forget about me, or is he concocting a cunning plan?

'I have some unnatural aggression towards Flash. This is definitely related to the years of humiliation Peter endured that have been rapidly passed onto me. I need to do something about it. I don't even need spider powers; I can just scoop his brain out with a fork.'

I gritted my teeth.

What's bothering me right now is why MJ is glancing at me?

Is it because there's a girl sitting with me at lunch?

Surprising, I know.

Peter's unrequited puppy love for Gwen makes it unlikely that he'd quickly become popular with the girls.

Speaking of Gwen. She's pretty, a natural blonde, athletic, and does well in school.

So what?

I couldn't break down the reason for Peter's love.

"Maybe I'm just a hard-hearted jerk who doesn't believe in love at first sight."

I glanced around the cafeteria without judging anyone and then looked more closely at MJ and Gwen.

'They are the ones who stood out among the girls, meaning Peter's first crush and the last one. Whose fault is the last one? Mine. That's just how it turned out, Peter.'

Nonetheless, that senior with platinum—no, white—hair looks like a model too.

What's her name?

She is not Silver Sable because she should still be in Symkaria, and she is in her twenties or possibly almost thirty.

However, it doesn't matter; why are they even staring at me?

Did they figure out that I'm not Peter? But I'm sitting here reading, just like him.

An ideal disguise.

Aizen would die laughing.

...

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