It was a sunny Monday at Midtown High School.
Gwen had just stepped out of the music room when she saw Peter standing in the hallway, holding a thick stack of documents with a complicated expression on his face—it was like surprise mixed with bewilderment, and a little bit of feeling overwhelmed.
"Peter?" She walked over. "What's wrong?"
Peter looked up, and when he saw her, his eyes lit up.
"Gwen, look at this."
He handed the things in his hand to her.
Gwen took them and looked—it was a stack of documents with the Oscorp Group logo printed on them. On top was an ID card with Peter's photo, and below it were the words "Oscorp Group Intern Researcher."
"This is..."
"Internship documents," Peter said, his voice filled with irrepressible excitement. "And an access pass, a key card for the lab—"
He flipped to the next few pages and pointed them out to her.
"A private lab! Gwen, Oscorp Group prepared a private lab for me!"
Gwen looked at his excited face and smiled too.
"That's amazing?"
"Harry gave it to me just now," Peter said. "He walked over with a smile, shoved this stack of things into my hands, and said, 'Of course, it's your internship documents for Oscorp Group, and it's a private lab.'"
Gwen blinked.
"And then?"
"Then I said, 'Harry...'"
Peter paused, a strange expression appearing on his face.
"Then he said—'Even though you're my friend, I like women.'"
Gwen was stunned.
The next second, both of them burst out laughing.
"He really said that?"
"Really!" Peter laughed so hard he couldn't stand straight. "I hadn't even reacted yet, and he just walked away, laughing as he went!"
Gwen shook her head with a smile.
"Harry..."
Peter laughed for a while before stopping. He looked at the documents in his hand, his expression turning serious.
"Gwen, why do you think... Mr. Norman Osborn is so good to me?"
Gwen thought for a moment.
"Because your research report is truly impressive," she said. "And you're Harry's friend."
Peter was silent for a few seconds.
"I will work hard," he said, his voice soft but firm.
Gwen looked at him, a wave of warmth rising in her heart.
This boy was always so earnest.
After afternoon classes ended, Gwen and Peter walked toward the school gate together.
Walking to that familiar corner, Gwen suddenly stopped.
"Peter."
"Hmm?"
"Come to my house for dinner tomorrow night."
Peter was stunned.
"What?"
"Dinner," Gwen said. "My dad invited you."
Peter blinked, taking a while to process it.
"Your dad? Invited me? For dinner?"
Gwen nodded.
"Why?"
Gwen looked at him, thinking about how to explain.
"Because he already knows."
Peter's expression changed.
"Knows what?"
"About us dating," Gwen said. "And he knows you're my prophet, helping me make my suit, providing intel—"
Peter's face turned slightly pale.
"H-he knows everything?"
Gwen nodded.
Peter stood there as if struck by lightning.
It took several seconds for him to find his voice.
"Then do I need to prepare anything? Bring a gift? Buy flowers? Wear a suit? Or—"
Gwen looked at his nervous appearance and couldn't help but laugh.
"You don't need to prepare anything."
"Really?"
"Yeah." Gwen thought for a moment. "If you really want to prepare something—"
She looked him up and down.
"Take a shower."
Peter was taken aback.
"What?"
Gwen pointed at him.
"You just finished gym class, you smell like sweat."
Peter raised his arm to sniff, and his face turned bright red.
"I-I'll go back and wash right now!"
He turned and ran, then turned back after a few steps.
"What time tomorrow?"
"Six o'clock."
"Okay!"
He disappeared into the crowd.
Gwen stood there, watching his back, and shook her head with a smile.
At six o'clock the next evening, the doorbell at Gwen's house rang.
Gwen opened the door and saw Peter standing there.
He was wearing a light blue shirt today, paired with dark casual pants, and his hair was styled. He looked much sharper than usual. He was carrying a paper bag, though it was unclear what was inside.
"Hey, Peter." Gwen moved aside to let him in.
"Hey." Peter walked in, looking around nervously.
Gwen looked at his clothes.
"You're wearing this to dinner?"
Peter paused and looked down at himself.
"Uh... is it not okay?"
Gwen laughed.
"No, it's fine. Come in."
She led Peter into the living room.
The dining table was already filled with dishes—salad, pork chops, roast beef, fried shrimp, fried chicken, and a few Western-style dishes that Gwen couldn't name. Helen was moving between the kitchen and the dining table, bringing over the last soup.
George was sitting on the sofa with a newspaper in his hand. Seeing Peter come in, he put down the newspaper and stood up.
"You must be Peter."
His tone was very flat, so flat that no emotion could be detected.
Peter walked over and extended his hand.
"Nice to meet you, Mr. Stacy."
George shook his hand.
"Nice to meet you."
Their hands clasped together, and Gwen always felt this handshake posture was a bit like—
Like what?
Like two men testing each other.
Helen came out of the kitchen, and her eyes lit up when she saw Peter.
"Hi, dear." She greeted him with a smile. "You must be Peter, right? Gwen mentions you often."
Peter's face flushed slightly.
"Hello, Mrs. Stacy."
Helen waved her hand with a smile.
"Just call me Aunt Helen."
She invited everyone to take their seats.
The four of them sat down at the dining table.
George sat at the head of the table, Helen sat next to him, and Gwen and Peter sat opposite them.
Gwen snuck a glance at Peter—he was sitting bolt upright, his expression as serious as if he were attending an important meeting.
She couldn't help but want to laugh.
"Peter," George picked up his knife and fork, asking casually, "What do you do?"
Peter put down the knife and fork he had just picked up and answered earnestly.
"I... I'm a student at Midtown High School."
George nodded.
"Midtown High School. Gwen mentions you often, says you're... very smart?"
Peter glanced at Gwen.
"I just try my best."
George cut a piece of pork chop.
"Trying your best is good. What are you studying?"
"Mainly physics, and... biochemistry."
George raised an eyebrow.
"Physics. Interesting."
He paused.
"You know Norman Osborn?"
Peter was stunned.
"Yes. I'll be interning at Oscorp Group next month."
Gwen added from the side.
"And it's a private lab."
George looked at her, then turned to Peter.
"It seems he thinks very highly of you."
Peter nodded.
"He's a really good person."
The dining table was quiet for a few seconds.
George put down his knife and fork, picked up his wine glass, and took a sip.
Then he looked up at Peter, his tone still very casual.
"What do you think of Spider-Man?"
Gwen's heart skipped a beat.
"Dad," she blurted out, "What did you say?"
George didn't look at her.
He was still looking at Peter.
Peter's hand paused.
But he quickly recovered.
"I think," he said, his voice steady, "her stance is the same as yours: protecting the innocent from being harmed by bad guys."
George's brow twitched slightly.
"I uphold law and order; that is my stance," he said. "Because I have a badge. But she wears a mask, like an outlaw, Mr. Parker."
Peter's Adam's apple bobbed.
But he didn't back down.
"I only know she has helped many people," he said, "and everyone online says she is a hero—"
"So you help her make her suit and provide intel?"
George's tone was still very flat, but these words were like a bomb exploding at the dining table.
Gwen's hands clenched tight.
Peter fell silent.
He knew this moment would come sooner or later.
"Mr. Stacy," he started, "I—"
Just then, Helen came out of the kitchen with a plate.
"Dinner is ready." She said with a smile, placing the plate on the table. "I hope you like sea bass. I bought it this morning; it's very fresh."
Peter swallowed the words that were on the tip of his tongue.
He looked at Helen and tried to force a smile.
"Who wouldn't like it?"
Helen sat down next to him and invited everyone to eat.
"Eat, don't be shy."
The atmosphere at the table eased a bit.
Gwen and Peter exchanged a glance, both breathing a sigh of relief.
But George didn't say anything more.
He just continued eating, occasionally glancing at Peter.
That gaze—Gwen couldn't tell what it was.
After dinner, Gwen stood up.
"Let's go get some air, Peter."
She took Peter's hand and walked toward the back door.
George nodded.
"Okay, let's talk."
Peter turned and looked at George.
"Thank you for the hospitality, Mr. Stacy," he said, his voice very sincere. "Sorry if I offended you; I didn't mean to."
George looked at him, silent for a second.
Then he nodded.
"You're welcome."
Peter turned to Helen.
"The sea bass was delicious, Mrs. Stacy."
Helen smiled.
"Thank you, you're welcome."
Gwen and Peter walked out the back door and into the yard.
The night breeze blew over, bringing a chill.
Peter let out a long breath.
"You scared me to death."
Gwen laughed.
"Is it that scary?"
Peter looked at her.
"The look your dad gave me just now—I thought he was going to draw his gun."
Gwen laughed out loud.
"He wouldn't. My dad isn't like that."
Peter leaned against the railing, looking at the night sky.
"Gwen."
"Hmm?"
"Your dad... he's actually a good man."
Gwen nodded.
"I know."
Peter turned his head to look at her.
"Will he accept me?"
Gwen thought about it.
"I don't know," she said honestly. "But he knows everything you've done. He knows you help me make my suit, provide me with intel, and accompany me on adventures."
Peter was silent for a few seconds.
"Then what does he think?"
Gwen smiled.
"If he didn't want to accept you, he wouldn't have let you through the door just now."
Peter was stunned for a moment, then laughed too.
"That's true."
The two of them stood in the yard, looking at the night sky.
In the distance, Manhattan was brightly lit.
Nearby, the windows of Gwen's house cast a warm yellow light.
"Peter."
"Hmm?"
"Thank you for coming today."
Peter turned to look at her.
"Thank you for what?"
Gwen didn't answer.
She just leaned on his shoulder.
Peter smiled.
He reached out and put his arm around her shoulder.
The two of them stood there like that, feeling the night breeze, watching the night sky.
Inside the window, Helen was cleaning up the table. She glanced out the window, then looked at George.
George was sitting on the sofa with a newspaper in his hand, but his gaze wasn't on the paper.
He was looking out the window.
Looking at the two figures standing in the yard.
Helen walked over and sat down beside him.
"What is it?"
George was silent for a few seconds.
"That kid," he said, his voice very soft, "is alright."
Helen smiled.
"You were testing him just now?"
George didn't speak.
But Helen saw that faint, almost imperceptible curve at the corner of his mouth.
She shook her head with a smile and leaned on his shoulder.
Outside the window, those two figures were still standing there.
Moonlight spilled onto them, stretching their shadows long.