"Thanks, have a good night."

You stepped out of the twenty-four hour pharmacy/store with a plastic bag in your hand. Glancing around the dark and empty street, you popped your earbuds into your ears and headed out.

Trips to the store weren't rare for you. Ever since you were a teenager and were granted enough freedom to go, you often walked down there whenever you craved a snack or just wanted to get out for a bit. Tonight was no exception.

Except for the police sirens buzzing in the distance, there was no noise around. You enjoyed the rare peace in the atmosphere. Very rarely did Queens ever have a quiet night.

It didn't last long.

You were approaching a streetlight when you felt a sudden rush of cold air and your hair wildly whipped around your face. You gasped as you heard the soft thud of a body landing directly in front of you.

The sudden company made you leap in the air, heart skipping beats and rushing to catch up with the blood pumping.

The figure landed on its feet. You soon recognized the person as it stood up, the spider visible in the middle of his chest.

"Spider-Man," you whispered dumbfoundedly.

"Uh h-hey," he stammered. "Sorry for scaring you, ma'am."

You pulled an earbud out of your ear. "What are you doing here?"

"I was just patrolling and saw you here alone," he said. "It's sort of a cold night to be walking, don't you think?"

You held up the bag and jerked your thumb to the corner store behind you. His head bobbed once as a nod.

"Oh."

You laughed. "I'm not planning on robbing anyone, if you're worried about that. Here." You opened up your plastic grocery bag and pulled out the contents: a bag of potato chips. "See? Here's the receipt." You started walking again.

"Oh no, I wasn't worried about it," he said. "I mean. You never know. People here are crazy!"

"Tell me about it," you sighed. "I live in one of the crappiest neighborhoods in Queens."

"Oh, really? Well, I can walk you home then."

You held up a hand. "Oh no, Spider-Man, I'm sure there are better things to do than walk me down the street-"

"No really," he said. He laughed nervously. "It's a slow night, anyway so it wouldn't be a problem at all."

You bit down on your lip and shrugged. "Okay. Guess it's better than possibly being mugged," you said.

He laughed, the sound muffled underneath his mask.

For the next several days, Spider-Man always found a way to you in time to walk you home. Although he mostly popped up unexpectedly, like when you were walking out of the store or when you were four feet from your apartment, you were grateful for the protection and the company.

It happened so often that you soon thought of him as your friend.

"You sure make an effort to get a bag of chips," he said one night.

You smiled. "Yeah, I mean... they're my favorite potato chips ever. I tried them once last year and they changed my life. If I don't get a bag at least once during the school day, my whole day will be ruined. Seriously, Spidey. Try one." You popped open the bag and held it out.

Slowly, he peeled his mask up just above his lips. You wished he would pull it up just a little further so you could see more than just his pink lips and pale skin.

He reached a gloved hand in the bag, grabbed a big one, and popped the whole thing in his mouth. You waited smugly as he chewed.

"Hm. Wow. That is good," he admitted.

"Told you," you said, rolling up the bag. He yanked his mask back down. "I've only ever found them at that store or at the vending machine at school."

"What school you go to?"

"Midtown," you said. You waited for him to tell you where he went, but instead he dusted the crumbs off his gloves.

"They are good. I don't know about life changing though," he joked. "You must have a boring life if baked chips with sea salt changed your life."

You giggled. "Shut it, Spidey."

More days followed, each like the other. Spider-Man was always there and he always walked you home. It got to the point where you were going less to get the chips and more to just see him. The chips were just an excuse now.

As much as you begged, he didn't spill any information on who he was. You had no idea how old he was - although by his voice, you knew he was a teenager - or what he looked like besides the shape of his lips or the color of his skin.

That didn't stop you from developing a crush on him. It shouldn't have been a big deal. Most girls had a crush on Spider-Man - but who could say that they were actually friends with the hero and that he was their personal chauffeur? Not any that you could name.

You attempted to push away your feelings (unsuccessfully) and dedicate your life to school. Of course, you could only get so far into a school day before your cravings for the chips set in.

Just before lunch, you took a detour to the vending machines. You weren't surprised to see Peter Parker, a quiet kid in your grade, standing against the machine. You were surprised to see a bag of your favorite chips in his hands instead of his usual bag of gummy bears.

When he saw you, you could have sworn that his wide brown eyes lit up. It had happened a few times recently, although you chose to ignore it. He was just a nice guy.

You smiled shyly at him in return and opened your purse to pull out your wallet. You grabbed the change needed and slid it into the machine before typing the letter and numbers you had long since memorized.

Instead of hearing the familiar sound of your chips dropping to the bottom, you heard a clanking noise. You groaned as the screen on the machine read, in big font, OUT OF ORDER.

"You've got to be kidding me," you whined, smacking your palm helplessly against the machine. "Come on..." You hit the numbers again. Nothing. "That's great!"

Peter frowned, quiet as ever in his spot as he cradled the unopened bag of chips you craved so desperately. You angrily stuffed your wallet in your bag and headed to the cafeteria, not feeling as hungry at the thought of a bologna sandwich and pretzels.

Your day had completely been thrown off by the lack of chips. You were grumpy all during the rest of your classes and even neglected to enjoy time after school in the library. Happy days at Midtown were rare, and even the simplest of things could throw you off for good.

You were trudging to your locker, eager to get out of school and on the bus to the corner store but too bummed about your lack of chips from earlier. As you turned the corner to the row of lockers, you saw someone standing in front of yours.

Your eyebrows furrowed and you nearly yelled at whoever it was for breaking in. But then you saw that it was Peter Parker - with the bag of chips from earlier in his hands.

You suppressed a gasp and stepped backwards to hide behind a trophy cabinet. You peeked over the side, contemplating whether or not Peter was a thief or just a stalker.

He stuck a blue sticky note to the front of the bag and dropped them into your locker. Then, looking around, he shut the door and stuffed his hands in his pockets. You held your breath as he walked down the hall and out of sight.

You ran to your locker. Your fingers shook as you put in the combination and yanked it open.

Nothing was stolen. Instead, sitting on top of your books was the bag of chips you had been deprived of. You slowly picked it up and looked at the note.

Hope your day isn't ruined.

- your friendly neighborhood Spidey

With the name you called Spider-Man written in front of you, you were piecing things together. Your heart was thumping loudly in your chest.

You shut your locker, ignoring the books that needed to go home with you. You had to catch up with Peter before he was already gone.

You ran down the hall and turned the same corner. He had just pushed the exit door open when you yelled, "Peter Parker!"

He spun around, alarm in his eyes. His cheeks flushed pink and he let the door close. "Uh... h-hey," he said. His eyes darted to the bag of chips in your hands. "Oh."

"Yeah," you said. "Oh. What the heck, dude?" You made sure no one was around. "You're Spidey?"

Slowly, he nodded.

You let out a long breath.

"Don't be mad," he pleaded.

"I'm not mad," you said. You shrugged. "I get it. You couldn't trust me because I was just a girl you walked home. It doesn't matter... I won't tell."

He sighed deeply. "Oh man, thank you! I'll pay you back, I swear."

"No need," you said, holding up the bag of chips.

You smiled and walked around him. Pushing the door open with your arm, you stepped out into the sun.

"Wait, ___," he called.

You turned your head, sun catching the highlights of your hair. Peter looked flushed as he stared at you.

"Maybe I could walk you home today," he said slowly, afraid of your reaction. "A... as Peter this time."

You grinned. "I'd like that." You held out your hand for him.

Beaming, he took it.