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Chapter 32 - Fair

"You good?" May asked, looking outside.

"She needed to talk."

May nodded. No further questions. Just turned back to the screen and reached for her tea.

I laid down next to her, resting my head on her thighs again. Soft skin. Bare. Warm. She barely moved, just let her fingers slide through my hair like it was instinct. Every pass of her nails made my eyes heavier. Not even a word between us. Just her breath and my pulse slowing to match it. Sleep took me fast.

When I woke up, the light was faint, curtain half-closed. The sound of May clinking dishes and the smell of something fried and glorious. Bacon? Toast? Something divine with grease. I blinked up at the ceiling.

"Damn, I fell asleep again."

I sat up and stretched, arms above my head, back popping like bubble wrap. My morning wood was pitching a solid tent. I ignored it. No time for shame.

But if the clatter from the kitchen meant anything, May definitely saw the wood situation and then promptly fumbled half the utensils like she was trying to duel it. A pan slid off the counter. Something metal hit the tile. I heard two curses, and a mumbled, "Jesus Christ."

I washed up and hoped the tent in my shorts dropped before she asked about yoga. We ate without bringing up anything involving sleep wood, gym sex, or traumatizing JPEGs. I cleared the table when we finished. May mumbled something about needing to "get out for once," and I agreed.

It was Saturday and May and I decided to hit the streets today.

She wore jeans that probably belonged in a catalogue and a top that made her look less "aunt" and more "someone's divorce regret." The kind of woman who got second glances and "Ma'am, can I help you find something?" from boys who stocked shelves for minimum wage and fantasies.

I, meanwhile, looked like I crawled out of a thrift store fire. T-shirt. Shorts with one knee blown out.

Weather was mid. That kind of overcast where the sun peeked through occasionally. We started walking toward the coast, not bothering with cabs or buses. We passed a guy selling hotdogs out of a cart that looked like it had not seen a health inspection ever. May gave it a side-eye and kept moving.

The coast was a thirty-minute walk if you were slow. We were slower. May kept stopping at every other window like she was judging the outfits behind the glass. One boutique had this long red dress on a mannequin with a slit high enough to invite lawsuits. She stared for three seconds, then moved on. Recorded the place and the dress.

"You could pull that off," I said.

She glanced at me sideways. "You think I am shopping for prom?"

I smiled. "Why not. I could invite you."

May scoffed. "To prom? You going as the weird loner who brings his aunt?"

I looked at her up and down. "No."

May snorted like she thought I had taken it back.

I added, "My hot aunt."

She blinked. Then looked straight ahead like that would cancel what I just said. "You say shit like that in public, someone is going to call child services."

I shrugged. "They are late. Should have shown up back when you started cooking in yoga shorts."

She narrowed her eyes. "That is your warning. Next one comes with a backhand."

"Prom sounds safer."

We kept walking. A group of kids on scooters zipped past us, one nearly clipped May's heel.

I grabbed her by the waist and pulled her close just as the scooters zipped past. The last one missed her heel by half an inch. May gasped, her hand instinctively landing on my chest.

I looked down at her. "You good?"

She was about to say something when I fired three quick webs from the inside of my wrist, hidden behind the sleeve. One to each rear wheel.

The timing was perfect.

All three scooters skidded, locked up, and flipped forward like synchronized dumbasses auditioning for a faceplant competition. The brats went tumbling, limbs flailing, helmets bouncing on the sidewalk. One of them screamed, another rolled into a mailbox, and the third started crying before he even hit the ground.

May turned back at the sound, eyes wide.

They were down in a pile, tangled and moaning. I kept walking.

"Idiots," I muttered.

May glanced at them again. "What the hell happened?"

"Probably karma," I said, slipping an arm around her waist again.

"They shouldn't be going that fast near pedestrians," she said.

"Shouldn't be riding at all. There is a bike lane right there," I nodded toward the bright green path on the other side of the sidewalk.

She let out a breath. "Kids are getting bolder every year."

"And dumber," I added. "Used to be, you almost hit someone, you said sorry and slowed down. Now they treat the sidewalk as a speedrun level."

We sat on the grass at the coast. Who knew grass was real and not just some lawn-mower propaganda. It felt itchy in all the wrong places, but it beat sitting on concrete. May leaned back against a tree. I followed her lead, stretching my legs, watching the sea.

Seagulls screeched at nothing, probably yelling at God or fighting over a used french fry. I hated them. The birds, not the fries.

"I have not come here for so long," she said.

Yeah. Since Uncle Ben died a few years back. I didn't say it out loud. This timeline was already cursed. Ben was gone before Peter ever got bit. Before any power, before the guilt trip, before the graveyard speeches about responsibility and karma and whatever other life lessons people try to trademark.

"Feels the same," I said. "The water, I mean. Still big. Still wet."

May gave me a side glance like she was trying to decide if I was serious or just being an idiot on purpose.

"Do you remember when we used to come here in the mornings? Before school?"

"Yeah," I said. "You used to carry those stupid mugs. The ones with the owls that looked like they smoked weed."

She smiled, a little. "They were cute."

"They were horrifying. Like nightmares with feathers."

"Ben liked them."

I didn't comment on them. What was I going to say? That I was glad I got rid of both? Mugs and Ben, I mean.

We sat for a while. May pulled out sandwiches and a thermos of tea from her bag. She unscrewed the cap and handed me the top cup. We passed it back and forth. Bread was crusty. Tomato slices thick. A little mayo, maybe too much. Turkey folded like someone packed it in a rush. It was perfect.

After letting our pale ass skins soak up some spring sun, we finally got up. May brushed some grass off her jeans.

"There is a festival nearby. With Amusement Park," she said, pointing down the coast where a cluster of tents and flashing lights had started to rise over the horizon.

I looked at her. "You wanna turn this to full date? I am down."

[System]: Ooh~ full date mode activated? Damn, sugar. She about to pretend it ain't a date while wearing jeans tight enough to file complaints. Look at that sway. I would bite that walk if I had a mouth.

She glared but kept on walking. I followed. The place was not too crowded, the hour was early.

"What you wanna ride first?" I asked with a smirk.

"I know you worded that intentionally," she said, pinching my arm and dragging me toward the line of rides without waiting for an answer.

First stop? The Ferris wheel. Classic. Cliche. Absolutely meant to provoke one of those fake romantic silences that movies pretend lead to hand-holding. We got into one of the empty carts, and I let her take the side with the view. She crossed one leg over the other. I leaned back and let the cart swing a little just to see her flinch.

"You did that on purpose," she said.

"Probably," I replied.

The cart rose. The ground got smaller. The view stretched. May stared out across the water, lips pressed, pretending she was not mildly impressed by the height. After the Ferris wheel, we hit the rest in rapid fire. Some rides had us squeezed into the same seat, legs touching, arms brushing, like we were auditioning for a romantic comedy no one asked for. Others, like the bumper cars, split us apart just so we could crash into each other like spiteful toddlers with licenses. She grinned every time she slammed into me. I gave it right back. One hit had her spinning sideways. She laughed so hard she almost dropped her phone.

We grabbed cotton candy after. Blue, because fuck pink. She made a face when I shoved a chunk into her mouth without warning. Spit some of it out, flicked the rest back at me. Some landed on my t-shirt. I took em and ate em.

One ride stopped midway. A wheel or something locked up. Screams erupted like they were all gonna die. Not from our side. We were already off, watching the workers scramble. May elbowed me. "See? That is why I don't trust things held together by bolts older than me."

"Nothing in this place is older than you," I said, licking sugar off my fingers.

Her eyes narrowed. "Careful."

After killing an hour and a few more rides, we dipped into the tent showing a movie. Some old black-and-white flick. They played it like it was art, but the only thing artistic about it was how quickly it killed the vibe. Half the audience was asleep. The other half looked like they wished they were.

May leaned over halfway through. "This sucks."

"I thought this was your pick."

She glared at me. "You agreed."

"I agreed to popcorn. This is extra."

We slipped out before the credits rolled, walked back toward the coast and picked up the trail heading home. The sun was already setting. Orange light draped across the buildings like someone smeared fire across the sky.

Walk home was lighter. May laughed a few times, probably just trying to shake off the sleep that stupid movie tried to inject into her bloodstream. Or maybe I was that funny. Who knew. Either way, it was a win. We passed by a street mural with dolphins. May pointed at one with a fin shaped like a baguette and said it looked like me. I called her delusional.

"Your t-shirt smells like sugar," she said.

"Yours smells like sunscreen and MILF."

"Careful. I will push you into traffic."

"I will survive. You? I will be giving your eulogy and pretending to cry."

She flicked a pebble at me. It bounced off my shin. I kicked it back. It landed in a puddle.

Then bright something flickered in the sky. Not star-bright, not plane-blink. Something heavy. Big, square. Hammer-like. It tore across the clouds like it was angry at altitude. I stopped walking. May didn't notice at first, kept going for two steps before turning. 

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