Behind the Mask

I was in charge of the ferris wheel at Toys 'R Us when a kid started harassing me.

"Hello? Lady, can I get on now?" The boy waved his money in my face.

"Oh, right." I took his ten and gave him change. I pressed the button to stop the cradle and opened the door for him to get inside. "Here you go."

He rolled his eyes at me before he planted himself inside. It didn't bother me like he wanted it to. I was distracted by other wonderful things...

"Excuse me!" I was shot back to reality again by the boy's shrill voice. "Can you push the button?"

I never started the ferris wheel again. "Oh, right." I said. Again. The ferris wheel started to spin when Tara approached me from her shift in the bakery section. 

"Are you okay? That's like the fourth time I've heard a kid yell at you today."

I bit my lip to keep from smiling like a dork. "Mhm. I'm good."

Tara raised her chin suspiciously. "Are you sure? You look...weird."

I tried to distract myself with the ferris wheel. I stopped it so a small family could exit. "Weird? How so?"

"I dunno..." She observed me closely. "Did you meet someone?"

I pretended to laugh it off. "Meet someone?"

"Yeah. Nobody smiles like that unless they're in looooove." She sang the word cheerfully.

I shrugged one shoulder and turned my face away until I had the smile under control again. "I don't know what you're talking about." 

I knew exactly what she was talking about. I'd been unintentionally reliving the past few nights I'd spent with Peter, reminding myself of each glorious detail. It embarrassed me, but I couldn't help it. Each night was even better than the last, which meant that tonight would be...

I couldn't finish my thought, because Daniel was walking right up to us. "Tara, you can't just leave your station unattended! Look at the line!"

We all glanced back at the bakery, a single elderly woman waiting patiently at the register. Weekdays usually weren't so crowded, but every day mattered in Daniel's book.

"I know, I know." Tara sluggishly dragged herself to the counter. She shot me a look that said we weren't finished talking.

Daniel stabled himself with a sigh. "So I don't have the slightest clue as to what to do with all of the letters in Spiderman's box if he won't take them."

I checked the box myself. It was overflowing with the hate mail Daniel didn't know about. "Recycle them?"

"I just don't have the heart to do it." Daniel slapped a hand to his chest.

Just then, he emerged from the revolving door. Peter Parker, wearing his suitable glasses and his hands tucked in his coat pockets. My hand nearly slipped to the emergency shutdown button when I tried to release the brat from earlier.

Daniel had clearly memorized his face almost as closely as I did. "Oh, Mr. Parker! We were just discussing the box of letters over there. Are you sure Spidey won't take them?"

Peter looked for himself in a swift turning motion. "Nah. He's a humble guy. Pretty shy, too." He directed his lovely smile to me. "Hey."

"Hi." It came out as an airy squeak.

"Right, so what was it that you wanted to tell me?" Daniel prompted Peter to continue, due to his busy schedule.

I knew what was coming, and I knew Daniel would probably go into some form of shock. Peter did it fast, like ripping off a band aid. "Spiderman can't come next weekend."

Daniel just blinked. "He isn't coming?"

Peter shook his head. "He has become very sick. He needs to take time off if he wants to keep his job saving people." He repeated it just like we practiced, firm and professional. 

Daniel cleared his throat. "Okay, well, that's disappointing." On the inside, he was in self-destruct.

I felt guilty for putting the man under more pressure, so I spotted another worker and got an idea. "But hey, Mike said he'd dress up in the costume if you supplied it for him?" 

Daniel noticed Mike at the same time. "Oh, really? Hey, Michael! Yes, hold on one moment." He hurried to catch poor Mike on his way out.

Peter smiled again when we were alone. "He took that well."

I peeked over Peter's shoulder to see Daniel. It wasn't an option for Spiderman to show at a planned and advertised event. It would be like presenting him on a silver platter to those who wanted to take a turn kicking him. "I feel bad for him."

Just as I said it, Daniel moped his way back over to us. "Mike isn't even volunteering next weekend. He can't make it."

Peter and I looked at eachother, unsure of what to suggest next. 

Daniel's head snapped up. "Peter, I am prepared to pay you a generous price if you would --"

"He can't." I butt in. I wasn't good at coming up with things on the spot. "He, uh..."

"I'll be out of town." Peter thankfully finished for me. "Visiting relatives."

Daniel frowned like his life was over. "Alrighty, then. I'll figure something else out." He walked away without a single goodbye.

I kind of frowned, too. "His heart is broken." I said. "He loves Spiderman."

"Well, you're the one that told me I can't show up here if --"

"I know. It still sucks for him though."

Peter dropped his head briefly. "I could have worn the costume, you know. Nobody would know I'm actually --"

"You are not getting anywhere near here next weekend." I jammed my finger in his face.

He closed his hand over mine. "Won't you let me finish a sentence?"

"No."

I caught Tara waving at me from across the counter. She pointed towards Peter with a raise of her eyebrows. I must have blushed, because Peter turned to see Tara waving like a maniac.

"Who's that?"

"Tara." I mumbled. "She knows about us. She figured it out herself."

Peter wasn't encouraging me to announce our relationship to the world. If his identity was ever revealed, I had to be safe. It was his only requirement.

He looked unsettled by it. "She's not a big mouth." I told him. "Now, if it was Clara, we'd have a problem."

Peter curled a strand of hair behind my ear. "I should get going."

"Do you have to?" I was whining like a child.

He kissed my cheek and squeezed my hand. "I'll see you later?"

I sighed pathetically as he walked away, wondering what exactly later would bring.

. . . . . . . . 

Clara wanted to have a movie night at my place, and I agreed as long as she brought the food. I broke out my box of old Disney princess movies and we settled on The Little Mermaid.

"Her hair is so pretty." Clara said after Ariel made her first appearance. "I've never seen anyone with hair like that."

I stifled a giggle or two. "That's probably because no one wants their hair to be as red as a firetruck."

"No, I mean it's so long and flowy." Clara twirled her finger in a lock of her own hair. Did she not realize her own hair was as gorgeous as it was?

"Yeah, and her bangs are indestructable."

"Exactly!"

We laughed at ourselves and commented on other strange aspects of the movie. I got a kick out of Clara eating two bowls of ice cream. Since when did models even eat?

It got to the part in the movie where Ariel rescued Prince Eric and was singing to him on the beach when there were a few knocks at my door. I untangled myself from the blankets and did a weird little skippy thing in my rush to the door. I had a good guess as to who it was.

I peeped through the peep hole and slipped off the chain, opening the door in one movement. Clara couldn't see the door from where she was sitting on the couch, but I didn't want her getting any ideas after seeing Peter.

My grin warped itself into a frown. It was Peter, but he wasn't himself. A gruesome looking cut over his eyebrow released a trail of blood down the side of his face. His lip was split and swollen. His eye was turning black. Even his nose was a bit crooked, probably broken.

I cupped my hand over my mouth and took in a rushed breath.

He wouldn't stop shaking his head. "It's not bad. It's fine. I just need aspirin or something, I don't have any..." He had to stable himself on my doorframe.

My throat was so tight I could hardly breath. "Peter,"

"I'm fine, I swear." He was keeping his voice uplifting, but I knew it had to hurt him. 

I looked over my shoulder at Clara. Peter was wearing a sweatshirt and pants to conceal his suit, but I didn't know if I should risk it. I couldn't just kick Clara out, and I couldn't send Peter home by himself.

I reached for his scraped knuckles and pulled him inside. "You got mugged on a street corner." I whispered to him. He nodded slightly in agreement.

"Clara?" My voice was uneven. "Can you put some ice in a dishcloth for me?"

"Why, is everything okay..." Her eyes widened as Peter came into view. "Oh, my God!" She jumped out of her seat. "What - who - what happened?"

"He got mugged," I explained poorly. "Just get some ice please?"

I saw her gulp and forgot she became queasy around blood. "Of course."

I pulled a wooden chair from the kitchen and helped Peter sit himself in it. I was almost biting through my bottom lip, and I felt sick to my stomach. He grimaced a few times at the rusty taste of blood in his mouth. 

Clara returned and tossed the ice to me, unsure of how close she could get. I asked her to wet a few towels as well, and she gladly obeyed.

I softly pressed the ice onto the bridge of his nose. It was starting to turn purple. "You can't do this anymore." I whispered with blurred vision. I hated how much I cried these days.

"It was my fault." He lied. "I was distracted."

"You look like you just came out of a boxing match." I said, wiping the blood with the towel Clara brought me. She stood a few feet away.

"I did. You didn't think I'd let the guy get away without a good fight, did you?" I hated his playful words. This was getting serious, and he knew it.

"Did it happen close by?" Clara asked quietly. She wouldn't go home tonight after this, which meant my night had a change of plans as well.

Peter pointed at the wall. "Down a few blocks. I only had twenty bucks on me."

"Poor thing. There are some nasty people out there. If only Spiderman came to help you..." Clara started reliving her dramatic rescue. I sort of panicked when I remembered she said she thought his voice was sexy. "I wonder why he didn't show."

"He was probably busy." He said. Did Peter's voice sound the same as Spiderman's?

"Here, hold this to your head." I waited for his hands to press down on the ice. "I'll get you something for the pain."

"It doesn't hurt now, I just know it will later." Always trying to be the tough guy. Sometimes I wished he would just cry about his boo-boos.

I could still hear them talking from the bathroom. "She isn't very good at introductions." Clara complained. "How do you know Olivia?"

"He lives on the fifth floor." I shouted. "And he's in my photography class." I knew Peter could handle himself, but I wanted to be sure Clara didn't have any suspicions.

When I came back with the aspirin and a glass of water, Peter was ready to stand up and leave.

"No, no no no you stay right there." I shoved his shoulders back into place.

"Olivia, honestly, I'm fine."

"Say that to your bloody face." I closed the pills in his hand and gave him the water. "Take those, please."

Peter obeyed under the pressure of the two of us staring at him expectantly. He noticed Clara's shirt for the first time. "Cool shirt."

Clara looked down at the spider symbol. "Thanks. Olivia bought it for me. They're on sale at Toys 'R Us for ten bucks." She grinned at the fact she fit into a kid's extra large.

Peter's eyes met mine with his smirk. "Gotta love Spiderman."

I tried not to roll my eyes. I was putting on a brave face now, but I knew that it would all come and hit me hard in a while. "Are you sure you'll be okay?"

He drew an X over his heart. 

"Maybe you should let him stay here for tonight." Clara suggested out of the blue. "He can sleep on the couch, and we can sleep in your room?"

Peter didn't deny her right away, and I didn't know what that was supposed to mean. "Is that okay with you?" I asked him, already knowing the answer.

"Only if you don't mind." He switched his eyes between the two of us. "I mean, I don't want to intrude."

"Of course not! I'll go find some extra blankets." Clara skipped away to my room.

I took advantage of our privacy. "Peter, this is not okay."

"I just asked you and you said yes!"

"No, not that! This!" I grabbed onto his chin and tilted his head to see the gnarly slice in his head. "They could have killed you!"

"But they didn't. I told you it was my fault, anyway. I didn't fight back very well."

"Clearly." I heard Clara's bare feet on the wooden floor. "We're not finished talking about this."

"Here you go. And I found a pillow, too." Clara spread them on the sofa in the most hospitable way.

"Thank you, Clara right?" Peter fought my hold and stood himself upright. 

"No problem. Now, get some rest, and we'll see you in the morning!" Clara snatched my wrist and yanked me into my bedroom. She closed the door and started doing this psychotic jumping up and down that concerned me greatly.

"What are you --"

"Oh my god! Why didn't you tell me! What kind of girl keeps something like that from her best friend?"

I watched her warily. "What?"

"You toootally love him!" She cooed. What was it with people and dragging out their vowels when someone was in love?

"Please," I attempted to discourage her. Clara knew better than anyone that I'd never really had a decent boyfriend, but it appears that she approves of Peter.

"Please shmease, he tooootally loves you too! I saw the way he looked at you. And now he's staying over night at your house!" She acted like she just gave me a check for a million bucks. If only she knew that I felt that way too.

"Okay, whatever. I'm really tired, so --"

"No way! You get your pretty little butt out there and talk to him!" She physically kicked me out of the room, foot to cheek. She closed the door over again, but I knew she was probably pressed against it listening.

I rubbed my bottom, guessing that a bruise would appear there shortly. Peter was still pressing the ice to his face, but he was on the sofa now.

He patted his thigh and offered a seat for me there. I happily accepted and sat sideways across him. The Little Mermaid was still playing on the TV. I ran my fingers through the back of his hair and down his neck a bit.

I ripped off the band-aid. "I don't want you to wear the suit again for a while."

He knew what I meant. "We've talked about this. I'm sorry, but I can't do that."

I stayed as calm as I could. "You're going to die, you know that, right? They'll kill you next time."

Peter draped his arm over my legs to hold me closer. "Then maybe we should say goodbye now."

He meant it as a joke, but it felt like a punch in the gut. I leaned away from him. "Don't even joke about that."

"I'm sorry." He said immediately after my face lost color. "I wasn't trying to -- I didn't mean that. I'm sorry."

I still couldn't believe he had the audacity to joke about something like that, especially to me. It only made me worry about him more. "I'll see you in the morning."

Peter locked his fingers around my arm. "Don't be like that."

"You promised me you'd be more careful. What happened to that, huh?"

He didn't say anything.

I ran my thumb under a scrape on his cheekbone. I wasn't angry with him. The whole concept just frustrated me. I had to do something to help, even if that meant going to the police station myself.

I kissed the good side of his mouth and dropped my head to his shoulder. I decided that the next morning I would stop sitting around waiting for Peter to come home safe.