Shame

"Aunt May, please," Peter sighs, chasing his aunt around the room, a disgruntled expression on his face. 

May glances at him with a smile, popping in a pair of cheap pearl earrings she picked up from some dollar store as she checks her reflection in the bathroom mirror. 

Peter has to stop her now, while she is still a pair of heels and a coat away from stepping out the door. She is on her way to work, or well, potential work. Her third one in under a month. She's returning to the Daily Bugle to complete her second interview. 

"I don't want this!" Peter insists, though he knows for sure he does and, as much as he wishes she didn't, so does May. But what he wants and what they can actually afford are two different things. Going on some overpriced field trip to a ski resort with his class sounds absolutely fantastical until he gets back home to a bed under a bridge somewhere. 

There's just no way he could put his aunt through that. 

"I'm giving this back to you," Peter stares at her, firmly placing the envelope holding the cash and permission slip on the top of the toilet tank. "There are more important things you can spend it on like-"

"Peter," May places a hand on his shoulder, staring across at him with marshmallow-y eyes, and Peter almost flinches when she says in the most earnest tone possible, "there's nothing more important than you." 

Peter's gaze goes astray, landing on everything from the used towel on the side of the tub to the worn mat on the floor, but never back on May's eyes. He gnaws on his lower lip, wishing those words actually made him feel good like his aunt intended to rather than guilty. 

"You're not allowed to worry about how the bills will get paid or how food will get on the table," she continues, oblivious to how Peter sinks further with her every word, "that's my job. You're only allowed to worry about getting kick-ass grades and enjoying all the time you have left as a kid. Trust me. You'll have all the time to worry about that shit soon enough. So please, for now, just leave it to me, okay?"

"I...I have a job too, you know. If I really wanted I could pay for that trip myself," Peter objects instead, as if he isn't already saving ever penny he makes for May, in case she ever needs it - and she has. Peter will never forget those two months they spent living in a shelter. Back then, May had a lot of trouble finding a steady job and soon they were over three months late on rent. The land lord was a nice guy, but not that nice. At the shelter, May was constantly harassed by homeless men and Peter gained himself more than a couple black eyes trying to defend her honor. Since then, they've had a few close calls and were only able to make it through thanks to Peter's saving. 

A pained expression flits across May's face, as if she too is recalling the same thing, then she sighs, picking up the envelope and holding it out firmly for Peter to take.

"The rent for this month is already paid and I have a really good feeling about this new job. Mr. Jameson really likes me. Says I have a 'way with words' and is just the type of writers he's interested in.'' 

Peter is sure there is some lack of professionalism hidden in those words, but chooses not to look too deeply into them. It won't be the first time his aunt managed to woo her way into job (or anything really) with nothing but a pretty smile and some nice words. A talent he unfortunately lacks. 

"Okay," he says at last, if only to prevent her from attending her interview late. She should have been out the door five minutes ago. "I'll... take it."

"Great!" She beams, pulling him into her chest for a hug and a peck on the cheek. "Make sure to hand it in first chance you get so you don't forget! Today's the deadline! Alright! Gotta go! See you after you get back from school! Bye!"

Peter sighs, taking the envelope and placing it back down on top of the toilet's tank as soon as May's out the door. 

Sorry Aunt May.... I just can't. 

Grabbing his bookbag and coat, he heads off for school, thinking of ways to let his best friend Ned down easy about not attending the trip.

"Duuuuuuuuuuuuude!"

Ned is, predictably, very disappointed. 

"You promised you'd come!"

"No," Peter clarifies as he slams his locker closed. "I promised I'd ask my aunt about it and she said no." It was a lie. A small lie. But a lie none the less. The look Ned gives him makes Peter feel as if it was no different than shooting him in the face. "There was... never any guarantee, man."

"B-but it's going to suck balls going there alone! Do you know who else is left for me to talk to? Michelle, Peter, Michelle! And she's an even bigger loser than us!" Peter doubts that, and he couldn't imagine Michelle wanting to talk to Ned either, even if they were the only two students signed up for the trip, but doesn't say anything out of fear of prolonging Ned's little freak out. "Plus, you said you really wanted that autograph from Tony Stark! You gotta come Peter! You just gotta!"

Oh. Peter completely forgot. Tony Stark is going to be having a brief presentation on one of his latest AI programs. It's an exclusive early look on some kind of new technology he plans to debut later this year. Peter, while he will never admit to being a fan of Tony Stark, could not deny that he found the man's work extremely ground breaking. The man himself... not so much. There were many many things he's heard about Tony Stark, and outside of his work, none of them are good. 

"I did not say I want his autograph," Peter frowns, a slight red tinting his cheeks, "I said I really wanted to meet him - wait - not really - but just mildly - uh, wanted to meet him. You know... cause he's super smart and - "

"Look, Peter!" Ned screams, grabbing hold of Peter's shoulder's like his dear life depended on it. "I don't care about your little nerd crush on Tony Sta-"

"I do NOT have a-"

"He's smart and rich, also totally hot if old bags of bones just happens to be your thing! No judgement here!"

Peter can't help but scowl a little. 

"What I do care about is being alone on the best school trip of our life because my best friend refuses to go!"

"...Ned," Peter sighs, wishing Ned wouldn't be so loud. "It's not that I'm refusing," not really anyways, "but that I-"

"AM TOO POOR - isn't that right, Penis Parker?!" A voice booms in Peter's ear followed by a hard shove on the back of his shoulder that, if Ned wasn't holding him, would have sent him rolling to the ground. The hallway is filled with raucous laughter.

 Ned let's go of him and shoots him an apologetic look as Peter turns to see Flash along with almost fifteen other students leering at him with crooked smiles. Awesome.

Peter's grip on his bag's strap tightens as he makes to take a step back, his shoulders rising and his neck sinking in between like some turtle trying to hide like some turtle in its shell. 

"What's the matter, Penis Parker? I'm just helping you explain to your dumbass friend! That's the reason, isn't it?"

"...I-I-I-" Peter stammers, words unable to properly leave his mouth. His pale face reddens into a tomato as the urge to disappear into a black hole threatens to swallow him hole. 

There's no reason to say anything. It's no secret that the only reason Peter's attending this private school is thanks to a scholarship. It's no secret that all his clothes are second hand and ragged. It's no secret that Peter and his aunt often shop in thrift stores and food pantries. It's no secret that he's the only kid in the school to live in a dingy neighborhood in one of the worst parts of Queens. There's no reason to say anything at all. 

But still, Peter feels it - the humiliation - and it burns because he knows Flash, along with all the others watching, just want to hear him say it. Admit out loud how pathetically worthless and shameful is his life compared to their own. Give them something to jeer at and make themselves feel even better about themselves because something about a pale, skinny kid with a mop of curly brown hair and sixty-two cents in his pocket must be so soul fulfilling.

Peter wants to punch each and every one of them in their smug little faces but he won't. Can't. Another thing about Peter that's no secret is the he wouldn't willingly hurt a fly. Most probably assume it has something to do with preserving his scholarship or being too much of a wimp. But those aren't his main reasons. He just can't find it within himself. Not after what happened with his Uncle Ben... Peter does not believe in violence of any kind. Something like that.... he doesn't ever want to experience again. 

Even if that means continuously enduring, he's willing.

"Yeah," Peter says, voice shakey as he attempts a casual shrug and fails, "it's cause I'm p-"

"Don't." Peter blinks as he feels a suffocating grip around his wrist. He turns to see Ned. He looks nervous - scared even. But the grip he has on Peter is as solid as the determination in his voice as he pulls Peter away from Flash and the rest of the crowd. "Don't keep giving those assholes the satisfaction."

"Uh, sorry, man. I wanted to avoid trouble," Peter says, giving Ned a faint smile. He sometimes forgets he has such a good friend. 

Ned scoffs, then laughs. "Why are you apologizing, man? That was totally my fault."

"It's fine," Peter shrugs, "don't worry about it."

Ned shakes his head as they make it into class just before the bell rings. As they go to take their seats next to each other, Peter swears he hears Ned mumble something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like: you really are way too kind, Peter. 

He doesn't comment on it, just watches as Ned takes out an envelope from his backpack and passes it up front to Mr. Harrington along with the rest of the class. Peter stares at the growing pile of envelopes on Mr. Harrington's desk, thinks about May, and decides he's just fine being too kind.