Chapter 16
The dorm lights are off, but Gwen’s still up. She’s sitting on her bed, hugging her knees, chin resting on them as she stares out the open window. The city buzzes far below, a blanket of warm light and distant sirens. A breeze plays with her hair. Her thoughts are loud.
Then—movement. Just a few windows down, a familiar shape leans out.
It’s him.
Miles.
In his hoodie again, earbuds in, swaying slightly to whatever music he’s listening to. Gwen freezes. Should she duck? Pretend she didn’t see? Move to Siberia?
Instead, she clears her throat.
“…Hey,” she calls softly.
Miles looks over. Blinks. Pulls an earbud out.
“Oh—hey.” He grins. “Didn’t realize you were right there.”
“Yeah. Me neither,” Gwen lies.
They stare at each other for a beat.
“So… physics today,” he says, the grin turning teasing.
Gwen groans and hides her face in her hands. “Can we not talk about physics?”
Miles laughs. “Okay. No physics.” A pause. “But hey—cool mug, right?”
She peeks at him through her fingers. “You knew it was me, didn’t you?”
“Maybe,” he says. “Or maybe I just thought the blog was cute.”
Gwen’s ears burn. “You read it?”
He shrugs, all casual. “Sometimes. You’re funny. And… honest. It’s cool.”
“…Thanks,” she mumbles.
They fall into a comfortable silence for a moment. The wind rustles. Somewhere below, a car honks.
“Hey,” Miles says suddenly. “Do you wanna… maybe grab coffee sometime? For real, not as a physics emergency?”
Gwen looks at him—really looks at him.
Her heart thumps.
“Yeah,” she says, smiling. “Yeah, I’d like that.”
“Cool.” He looks down at the street below, then back at her. “I’ll bring the mug.”
She laughs, soft and bright. “Only if you’re brave enough.”
They linger a little longer like that—two windows, two hearts, one slowly growing crush that feels a little less hopeless under the stars.
Gwen groans into her pillow.
“Don’t make me exist,” she mutters, muffled by cotton and existential panic.
“Oh no,” Amaya says from across the room, stretching dramatically. “You don’t get to do this. Not after last night.”
Gwen peeks one eye out from under the pillow. Amaya is grinning. Wide. Dangerous.
“I heard giggling,” Amaya says, wiggling her eyebrows. “Like, late giggling. Window giggling. What happened?”
Gwen groans louder. “You heard nothing.”
“Gwen,” Amaya says, crossing the room and flopping next to her on the bed. “You blog about backflip velocity and lemon tea. If you don’t tell me everything, I’ll just put the pieces together myself. And you know I will.”
“…He asked me out.”
Amaya SCREECHES.
“No—no, softly!” Gwen smacks her arm. “Do you want the entire building to know!?”
“He. Asked. You. OUT?” Amaya whisper-yells, bouncing on the mattress. “Okay. Okay. Walk me through this. Every. Word. Every look. What did you say? Did you look like you cared? Did you use your cute voice? DID HE HAVE THE MUG?!”
Gwen’s face is crimson. “Yes. Yes, he did.”
Amaya rolls over like she’s been shot. “I knew it! The mug is cursed with destiny! I bet it glowed under moonlight!”
“I said yes,” Gwen says quietly.
Amaya sits up again, all serious for a second. “You like him.”
“…Yeah.”
“And Spider-man also?”
“…Yeah.”
Amaya beams. “My girl is doomed. In love with Lemon Tea Boy, but at the same time with Spider-man. And I love it.”
They both collapse into laughter.
“Okay but,” Amaya says between giggles, “you are wearing lip gloss to physics next time, right?”
Gwen throws her pillow at her.
He’s early. Again.
Miles taps his pencil against the desk, staring at the front of the classroom like it holds the secrets to surviving the next forty minutes. It doesn’t. Nothing can help him. Not when Gwen’s about to walk through that door, and not when his heart is already doing things.
The mug was a mistake. He should’ve noticed. Should’ve left it at home. Should’ve—
"Hey."
He whips around like a cartoon character.
Gwen is standing there, hair slightly messy like she’d jogged to class. She’s wearing that soft purple hoodie again, the one that makes her eyes look even bluer, and—
“Hi,” he says, voice cracking halfway through the word.
Cool. Very smooth.
Gwen doesn’t tease him though. She just slides into the seat next to him and gives a small smile. “Didn’t think you’d be early.”
“Didn’t think you would,” Miles fires back, heart hammering like he’s swinging through midtown.
She shrugs. “Felt like being prepared.”
He catches her glance at the mug again. The mug. It’s on his desk. Again.
“I swear I’m not obsessed with lemon tea,” he blurts, trying to be funny.
Gwen blinks… and laughs. Really laughs.
“I mean,” she says, grinning, “you could be. It suits you. Mysterious and citrusy.”
Their shoulders bump.
The teacher walks in, clapping his hands. “Alright lovebirds—”
Miles and Gwen freeze.
“—by which I mean carbon and valence electrons,” the teacher continues with a smirk. “But if anyone’s actually in love, I’ve got extra lab worksheets for you two.”
The class snickers. Gwen turns bright red.
Miles? Miles wants to melt into the floor.
They both stare at their notebooks in complete silence… until Gwen leans a little closer.
“…I think we just got shipped by a physics teacher.”
Miles tries not to smile too wide.
“Could be worse,” he murmurs.
The city’s quiet in that eerie, half-awake way. The kind of quiet that isn’t really quiet. Somewhere, a siren wails. Somewhere else, a car door slams.
Gwen tightens her hoodie around herself as she sits on the edge of the dorm rooftop. She shouldn’t be out here. But she couldn’t sleep—not after physics class. Not after the mug. The shipping.
Not after realizing that Lemon Tea Guy lives right across from her window.
She kicks her legs gently against the edge, peering down at the streets far below.
That’s when she hears it.
Thwip.
Her breath catches.
She doesn’t move, barely even breathes—just follows the sound. A flicker of red and blue blurs past a nearby rooftop, then doubles back.
And there he is.
Spider-Man.
Standing across from her on the building opposite, crouched low like always. Watching.
Gwen’s heart stutters.
She lifts a hand. Half wave. Half test.
Spider-Man tilts his head. Then, slowly, raises a hand and waves back.
It’s the smallest moment. The quietest connection.
She wants to call out. Say something. Ask about earlier—about the rescue. About how he felt seeing her in danger. But the words stick.
Instead, she whispers, “Thank you.”
Spider-Man gives a tiny nod. And then—he’s gone.
Gwen stays there a little longer, hugging her knees.
She has a crush on Miles Morales.
She has a crush on Spider-Man.
And she has absolutely no idea what to do with that.