Baby Steps
“Pete! Hey! Peter!”
Peter Parker, twelve-years-old, just hours away from starting sixth-grade, just a year away from being a teenager, couldn’t help but sigh at the high voice calling his name.
“Peter, wait up!” the sound of small feet slapping the pavement, too close to pretend he hadn’t heard, made him turn impatiently.
His neighbour, the most annoying person he thought he’d ever meet, bounced towards him with a great, big, beaming smile across her face. Alice Tybalt-Nefertari was the youngest of the Tybalt-Nefertari horde, the large family that lived in the house next door. Unfortunately for Peter, his Aunt and Alice’s mother were friends. It meant he could never escape Alice and her non-stop questions and unblinking stares.
“What do you want, Alice?” he asked impatiently, looking down his nose and over his glasses at her. It made her a little blurry, but it didn’t lessen her grin. Alice jumped in place, her pink Barbie backpack jostling with her movement. The backpack was way too big for her, but Peter and everyone in the neighbourhood had heard her begging for it. Spoilt. He thought, a little meanly.
“Your Uncle says you haf’ to walk me to school.” She said, proudly.
Peter felt his face drop. “What? No way – it’s my first day of middle school, it’ll make me late walking you to baby day care.”
Alice scowled, and she stomped her foot angrily, “I’m in first grade! I’m not a baby!” her hands tightened on her bag straps.
“You’re five. You’re a baby.” He told her, pushing his glasses up from where they’d slipped down his nose a little.
“I’m SIX!” she screamed, face screwing up and eyes growing worryingly wet. Peter gulped, and hurried towards her as she began to suck in loud, hiccupping breaths.
“I’m sorry! Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry! C’mon, it was just a joke, Ally!” he took her by her shoulders gently, and crouching so that he was eye level with her. “I’ll walk you to school, and I’ll buy you candy from Delmar’s.”
Alice sniffled. “And a soda?” she said, voice wobbly. Peter nodded, shooting a nervous look around the still quiet street, hoping no one was going to come out and scold him for making a kid cry. Alice threw her arms around his neck, and squeezed him tightly. “You’re the best, Pete!” she said brightly, ignoring the choking noise he let out as she flattened his windpipe. Thankfully she let him go, face suspiciously devoid of tears, and bounced around him as he coughed and straightened.
Peter adjusted his own backpack, shoulders already aching from all the textbooks he’d crammed in. “How come your brothers or sisters wouldn’t walk you?” he asked as they headed towards school. Alice was the youngest of seven siblings, three of which were in college, but the high school and middle school that her other two brothers and twin sisters attended were right nearby Alice’s school.
Alice blinked up at him, eyes a little limpid, and took his hand. “Because I wanted you to walk me to school, Peter.” She said, swinging their hands together. He groaned quietly, resisting the urge to tug his hand out of her sticky grip. “Peter, why do people tell me to eat broccoli?”
Alice and her questions. Peter didn’t know any other little girl or boy who asked as many questions as Alice did. Mr Santino from two doors down called her Cat, because ‘curiosity killed the cat,’ which had made Mrs. Tybalt-Nefertari laugh, and Aunt May frown. Peter privately thought it was a fitting nickname. “Because broccoli is good for you.” He supplied absently, looking both ways across the street before he began to cross.
Alice half-jogged after him. Though Peter wasn’t particularly tall for his age – Uncle Ben said that he hadn’t hit his growth spurt yet – Alice was a lot shorter than she should be too. Her oldest brother, Michael, once said it was because all her siblings had gotten the height her mom had to give. Alice had cried for three hours, and May had made him let her sleep-over in his bed. She had stolen all his blankets and kicked in her sleep.
“But broccoli is gross. What makes it so good?” she asked, skipping a little as she hopped the gutter. Peter sighed as his arm was jerked a little painfully.
“Vitamins.” He said vaguely. “And you can ask someone else about vitamins. Ask your science teacher.”
Alice’s face fell for a moment, before lighting up again with unnerving speed. “You’re good at science, you could be my science teacher. Mommy says you’re so good you’re gonna save the world someday.”
Peter couldn’t help but puff out his chest a little. “Maybe she’s right.” He said, and gave her a superior look. “Remember when I helped Iron Man at the expo?”
Alice’s eyes widened and she nodded. “You’re so cool, Peter. You’re a real superhero.”
Peter ducked his head, and smiled slightly, adjusting his grip on her hand. “I don’t know about that…”
Alice looked up at him, curly hair escaping the clutches of her scrunchie, gap-toothed smile on full display, bright green eyes trusting and adoring.
“Well, you’re my superhero.”