A knot of complicated emotion settled in Miles’ chest when he saw Hobie and Gwen interacting, a now familiar sensation of restless jealousy surging as he fiddled with the weird glitch prevention bracelet on his wrist.
Hobie was cool and Gwen seemed so much more at ease around him than she did around Miles. She didn’t have that weird guilty look on her face that told Miles she was still keeping things from him.
It stung.
Hadn’t Miles proven himself a year ago? Hadn’t he proven himself now?
Pavitr had only been Spider-Man for six months and although he seemed much more accustomed to his situation than Miles at that point in time, it was hardly fair that he seemed to know so much more about the Spider Society than Miles.
He startled back into the present when his senses tingled with a familiar whisper of likemelikemelikeme as he bumped into a girl that looked oddly like a hologram.
“Uh… I’m Spider-Man?” He introduced uncertainly and the girl snorted.
“Oh, no way?” she said in mock surprise, her lips twitching into a dry smile. “All of us are.”
Gwen turned to face him suddenly, a weird frustrated look on her face that Miles was beginning to think she kept reserved for him alone so he ignored her and the uncomfortable flipping of his stomach as he questioned the girl– Margo Kess about her abilities.
An avatar. That was so cool– she had like virtual reality abilities.
Miles would give anything to have that, not that he didn’t like his abilities but hers seemed so much cooler. Nearly everyone in this place seemed cooler than him, one way or another.
There were weirdos, sure, but they had all made it into this elite society of Spider-people where he had failed and remained in his own universe, a lone outcast.
Mrs. Drew, who’d been leading them through the area, stopped at the doorway which slid open automatically and she gestured for them to walk through, a critical yet dismissive expression on her face as she glanced at Miles.
That stung too, seeing that from someone Gwen had spoken so highly of.
Hobie fell in step with him as the door closed behind them, his eyebrows raised in a weird mix of curiosity and amusement. “What’re you broodin’ about?” he asked, snatching a green device off the wall and smirking at Miles. “Bet this doesn’t even do anything.”
“It probably did before you ripped it out of a wall,” Miles muttered, frustration bubbling in his chest as he scowled at the older-looking teen. “And I am not brooding.”
“Uh-huh,” Hobie agreed dryly. “You goin’ tell me you weren’t just thinkin’ about Gwendy too?”
Miles’ face flushed hot immediately, barely swallowing the denial that bubbled in his chest. It was the second time someone had implied there was something going on between them and as much as Miles maybe– sorta wanted there to be, there couldn’t. Gwen had made that pretty clear with how little she seemed to trust him
He chose not to answer, focusing on the fact that Hobie seemed to be messing with the tech and even stealing bits of it with all the skill of a practiced thief. “What’re you even doing with that stuff? They’re gonna be useless like that.”
Hobie shrugged, pocketing a purple piece of metal. “It’s propaganda, bro. That’s what they want you to think.”
“What does that even mean?” Miles snapped a little more harshly than he meant to if the odd glance Hobie gave him was anything to go by. He was a little overwhelmed and the other teen’s circling presence felt like it was chafing at one of those irritating blisters his suit left on his skin when he forgot to use baby powder– only it was on the inside.
Hobie fell silent for a moment, snatching up a blue glowing thing and examining it for a second before tucking it away. “Why do you wanna be part of this thing, anyway?”
It was Miles' turn to give him a look. “To get a watch, obviously.”
“So you can visit her, then,” Hobie snorted, lips twitching into another smirk when he caught Miles’ embarrassed look. “Just make your own watch then.”
That made Miles stop, if only for a moment. He ducked out of the way of a hanging wire before giving Hobie a suspicious look. “Is that why you’re stealing all this stuff? Why’re you telling me this?”
Hobie pressed his lips into a thin line, settling in an office chair and wheeling it around to face Miles with an oddly serious look on his face. Gwen was further ahead, just out of hearing range.
“All these watches, all these Spider-Men, reporting to one man. You don’t see nothin’ wrong with that? The whole point of being Spider-Man is your independence, being your own boss– this whole thing goes against that.”
That was hypocritical in so many ways. If he thought that, then why even be a part of this? And why did he seem so insistent on the fact that Miles shouldn’t join?
“Maybe you’re right,” Miles found himself saying. “But Gwen, Peter B., and the other guys– they’re my friends. I wanna see them and I need a watch to do that.”
“Like I said, make your own watch,” Hobie shrugged. “One without a tracker and one that doesn’t need Miguel to press a button before you’re shut out again.”
That made Miles pause, his eyebrows drawing into a frown and a question on his lips before Gwen interrupted.
“Guys, c’mon,” she sighed and Hobie put his hands up in surrender, their conversation ending with a whispered warning not to sign up for something he didn’t understand and a seed of doubt planted in his mind.
As much as Miles wanted to stick around and talk to Peter so they could clear the air and he could finally make sense of the hurt and anger he felt towards the man he’d been desperately wishing to see for over a year, Hobie’s words rang in his mind.
“One without a tracker.”
Peter was wearing a watch. They would find him.
As if to prove Hobie right, Miguel’s hologram-assistant lady spoke from Peter’s watch and Miles was off like a shot again, blood pounding in his ears as he shook off Spider person after Spider person.
He was going to go home.
He was going to save his dad.
No matter who got in his way.
"The seed of doubt was there, and it stayed, and every now and then sent out a little root. It changed everything, to have that seed growing. It made Ender listen more carefully to what people meant, instead of what they said. It made him wise."
- Orson Scott Card