Chapter 5
The low hum of Ganke’s gaming laptop filled the room, mixed with the occasional click-clack of his keyboard and the faint bump of lo-fi beats playing from Miles’ side of the dorm.
Their room wasn’t messy, exactly—just lived in. Posters were unevenly tacked to the walls (Miles' side: comic art, Ganke’s side: pixelated game covers), and a half-empty bag of chips had become the unofficial centerpiece on their shared desk.
Miles lay upside down on his bed, legs resting up against the wall, sketchpad resting against his chest, pencil rolling slowly between his fingers. He hadn’t drawn anything in an hour.
Ganke didn’t look up from his screen. “You’re doing that thing again.”
Miles blinked. “What thing?”
“The upside-down brooding thing,” Ganke said, clicking rapidly. “You only do it when you’re stressed or in, like, a very specific kind of denial.”
Miles rolled his eyes. “I’m not in denial.”
Ganke snorted. “Mhm. So you’re just sketching blank pages and sighing dramatically for fun now?”
“No,” Miles muttered, tapping the pencil against his lip. “I just... I don’t know, man. There’s this girl.”
Ganke paused his game and finally looked over, smirking. “There it is.”
“I barely know her,” Miles said quickly. “She’s new. Gwen. She transferred this semester. Real smart, kind of cool, quiet but not in a weird way. She’s in AP Physics with me.”
“And?”
“And... she has a Spider-Man blog,” Miles groaned, flopping his arms to his sides. “Like, a full blog. And a podcast, bro.”
Ganke’s eyes lit up. “Wait, that’s Gwen? Spider-Analysis Gwen?!”
“You know it?” Miles sat up straight, eyes wide.
“I mean, yeah, I follow her blog,” Ganke said, shrugging. “Her theories are a little wild sometimes, but the girl does her research.”
Miles groaned again, collapsing back on the bed.
“I can’t tell her, Ganke,” he muttered. “I can’t even talk to her without panicking. I mean, what if she finds out? She’s, like, obsessed with Spider-Man. And not in a normal way. In an ‘I made a Pinterest board of his suit designs’ way.”
Ganke smirked. “Yeah, but what if she likes you and Spider-Man?”
“I am Spider-Man.”
“Exactly.”
Miles picked up his sketchpad again and finally started to draw. Not Spider-Man this time—just a pair of ballet shoes hanging by their ribbons. He didn’t really know why that was the first image in his head. Okay, maybe he did.
Ganke watched him for a second before smiling.
“You know,” he said casually, “maybe she doesn’t need to know who you are yet. Maybe she just needs someone who listens to her talk about her weird little podcast. You could be that guy.”
Miles raised an eyebrow. “You’re giving me dating advice now?”
Ganke smirked. “I’m your guy in the chair. It’s part of the job description.”
Miles chuckled, the tension easing from his shoulders for the first time that night. He didn’t know how this Gwen thing would go. But maybe, just maybe... it didn’t have to be a total disaster.
It was one of those warm, golden afternoons where everything felt almost like a movie. The courtyard was buzzing with students cutting across the grass, lounging on benches, or sipping iced coffee like they had nowhere better to be.
Gwen had her earbuds in—drum solos playing low enough to keep her in rhythm but still let her hear the world around her. Her tote bag swung against her hip, filled with notebooks and a wrapped pair of ballet shoes she still hadn’t taken out of her locker.
She was halfway through drafting a new blog post in her head—something short, sweet, a little nerdy about Spidey’s rumored upgrades—when she nearly crashed into someone rounding the bend of a hedge.
Books flew.
“Whoa—sorry—!”
Gwen blinked up. “Oh my god. I’m so sorry. I wasn’t—Miles?”
He looked just as surprised, crouching down to help gather her notes. “Hey. Yeah. Uh—hey, Gwen.”
For a second they just knelt there, both grabbing papers, both trying not to stare too obviously. Gwen’s heart did a little flip. Up close, Miles had those soft eyes that always looked like they were on the verge of a laugh.
“You okay?” he asked, handing her a slightly crumpled chemistry worksheet.
“Yeah, totally,” Gwen said. “It’s just—my fault, I was... thinking.”
“About physics?” he teased, then immediately backpedaled. “I mean—not like, stalking you or anything—I just know you’re in my class, so. That made sense in my head.”
Gwen smiled, amused. “It’s okay. Honestly? I was thinking about Spider-Man.”
Miles nearly choked on his breath.
She caught it. “You okay?”
“Yeah, no—just, uh... spider. Caught in my throat.”
“Gross,” she laughed, slinging her tote over her shoulder again. “But yeah. I’ve been trying to figure out how his new web fluid works. It’s obviously stronger than before—he held up a falling bus the other day.”
Miles rubbed the back of his neck, trying not to look suspicious. “Huh. Yeah. That was... wild.”
“You saw it too?”
“Sort of. Like... online.”
She nodded like that made total sense. “I’m posting about it later. You should read it.”
He smiled, genuinely. “I will.”
They stood there for a beat too long.
Then she looked down, toeing the ground with her sneaker. “Anyway, I should probably get to ballet. I’m late.”
“You do ballet?”
She nodded. “And drums.”
“Okay, that’s kinda epic.”
Gwen smiled again, this time with a little blush in her cheeks. “Catch you later, Miles.”
He watched her go—ballet shoes bouncing against her hip, earbuds back in—and felt something weird and warm settle in his chest.
Yep. He was in trouble.
The studio was quiet except for the soft, echoing clicks of pointe shoes against hardwood. Gwen stood at the barre, her hair pulled back in a tight, perfect bun, legs aching in the best way, posture sharp with control.
One, two, three, plié. One, two—
“Gwen,” her instructor called. “Posture—shoulders.”
“Got it,” she said, adjusting slightly.
The mirrors in front of her reflected twelve girls in motion, but Gwen only watched herself. Not in a vain way—more like searching for something. For perfection. For focus. For the rhythm that lived in her bones.
By the time class ended, she peeled her shoes off and sat on the bench, sipping from her water bottle. Her phone buzzed in her bag.
New Comment – Spider-Analysis Blog
guestuser310: okay but how does he LOOK that good while saving a bus full of people??? explain it gwen. science can’t.
She snorted a laugh, thumbs already typing a response.
gwenstagram: listen. some mysteries are meant to remain unsolved. (but I am working on a theory, stay tuned.)
She tucked the phone away and pulled her hoodie over her leotard, ballet shoes tied around her neck by the ribbons. The sun had already dipped by the time she stepped outside, painting the sky with bruised pinks and oranges.
She met her roommate, Amaya, halfway down the block.
“You still geeking out over Spider-Man?” Amaya asked, grinning.
“No,” Gwen said.
Amaya raised an eyebrow.
“…Yes.”
“Girl.”
“I saw him last week,” Gwen whispered. “In real life. He stopped a mugging right in front of me. I swear I blacked out. He did that backflip thing he always does.”
Amaya rolled her eyes. “You’re literally in love.”
“I am not.”
“You are so in love.”
Gwen smiled but didn’t deny it.
She didn’t mention that sometimes, when Miles was talking to her in physics or helping her pick up her books, she got the same rush in her chest. That strange, weightless flutter.
Like she already knew him somehow.
It was late. Too late for Gwen to still be walking home, but ballet practice had run long, and her usual train was delayed. She tugged her hoodie tighter around her and crossed the quiet intersection near the park. The streetlights flickered.
A car engine revved.
Gwen turned just in time to see a too-fast sedan swerving onto the sidewalk—some idiot joyriding or drunk, maybe both.
Her breath caught. She stumbled back.
And then—thwip!
A blur of red and black, a streak across the night sky.
Before she could even blink, strong arms wrapped around her, lifted her off the ground, and the world spun.
The car screeched by where she’d just been standing.
They landed smoothly on the rooftop across the street, and Gwen’s legs nearly gave out when he set her down.
“Hey—” Spider-Man said, voice a little breathless through the mask. “You okay?”
She stared at him. Really stared. He was so close. Warm hands. Steady hold. The eyes of his mask blinked slightly.
“I—yeah. I think. That was—what was that?”
“Some idiot. I’ve got the plate number,” he said, glancing over the edge. “Are you hurt?”
“No,” she said, still dazed. “No, I’m… you saved me.”
She reached up instinctively and touched his shoulder like she needed to confirm he was real.
He looked down at her hand, then back up.
“You’ve got good instincts,” he said. “That dodge bought me time.”
Gwen gave a breathless laugh. “I don’t know if instinct counts when your brain completely shuts off.”
“I’ve seen worse.”
There was a long pause. Just them and the hum of the city, high above the world.
“…You’re really him,” she said softly.
He tilted his head. “Gwen, right?”
Her heart stopped.
“You know my name?”
“You’re kind of famous,” he said lightly. “Big Spider-Man fan. Blog’s great, by the way.”
Gwen’s mouth fell open. “Oh my god.”
“Careful,” he teased. “Wouldn’t want you passing out mid-rescue. Bad for my rep.”
“You read my blog?”
He took a step back, and just before launching off the roof, he shot her a crooked salute.
“Stay safe, Gwen.”
Then he was gone, swinging into the skyline like a dream.
Gwen stood there for a full thirty seconds before she remembered how to breathe.
Then: “He knows my name.”
Her phone buzzed. A message from Amaya.
where r u girl u good??
Gwen slowly started typing.
Spidey saved me.
Like SAVED me saved me.
He knows who I am.
She stared at the screen and grinned to herself.
Yeah. She was definitely in love.