Peter Parker

I know. I'm late. For the tenth time.

I'm standing on the corner of 42nd Street, my head hunched, just looking at you. Clouds of steam are escaping from my mouth. The clock says five minutes to eight. Our date was scheduled for seven.

I still have a ticket to the Bryant Park skating rink in my pocket. And in my other hand, I'm clutching the long stem of a red rose. It was perfect half an hour ago. Now the petals are covered in frost.

You're standing right at the entrance to that very cafe with the neon sign. And you're smiling. But not at me.

A guy in a perfectly tailored beige coat hands you a bouquet of roses. No need to fight villains in the middle of a snowstorm to get the flowers across town. You laugh, throw your head back, and accept them. He whispers something in your ear, and you blush.

And then… the air gets stuck somewhere around my Adam's apple.

You kiss him on the cheek. Lightly, like an old friend. Or more than a friend.

My hand unclenches by itself.

The rose slips from my fingers. The red bud falls right into the gray slush by the curb. Right between the wheels of a passing taxi, showering me with a fan of icy slush.

I raced here across the rooftops, risking slipping on the ice and falling to my death, because I promised. Because this evening was supposed to be ours.

And here it is, our evening.

A guy in a beige coat gallantly opens the cafe door for you.

Jarvis's voice, hidden inside the suit beneath the hoodie, whispers, "Critical cortisol levels detected. Spider-sense inactive. No threat. "

Yeah, right. No threat. Except that my heart is about to burst through my ribcage and fall into the same puddle as that stupid rose.

I step forward from the shadows, my boot squelching through the slush.

“Hey! ” I croak hoarsely, shouting over the noise of the road. “Sorry! It’s a long story, and you won’t like it, but I swear, the reason is completely ridiculous and has to do with... um... an escaped manatee from the Central Zoo? No. Wait. Don’t go. Please. Just for a second.”