Little Spy | Peter Parker ✓

[40]

BITTER METALLIC BLOOD INVADED MY SENSES, so much it was all I could think about, all I could concentrate on. Even when I was surrounded by the disgusting, smelly bodies of high school students, it was lingering at the back of my mind, taunting me with the decision I had to make - or, rather, how I would collapse the choice I was given. It was a scent that I associated with everything I touched, but also with a single person, one who had broken me time after time and became the greatest source of fear in my world, or at least a representation of it.

Inga was at the only safe place left, at Midtown High, watching me from somewhere I could not find - though, she didn't need to tell me for me to sense her presence. Not that my life there had ever been my own, for she had always kept tabs and always knew what was happening and when. However, with her physically watching me, it was like she was holding a silver dagger to my throat and directing my every step, pushing me closer and closer to my soon-to-be deadly crime. If I didn't think about it, it was easy enough to pretend like it was a normal day of watching Peter Parker and the rest of the imbeciles at Midtown. It was extremely difficult to not think about it.

That left me stuck with avoiding Peter to the best of my abilities. If he saw me and had thought about what I had said to him, he would want to discuss it, which would lead to the collapse of my only plan to save him. I just needed to get through my last day here and focus on the objective; keeping the poor boy alive. That was all I could do and all I had the strength to accomplish, especially with her there.

"Emily?"

All at once, any previous plans flew right out the window in my mind as Peter's voice drifted over the crowd. I immediately sped up my pace and slid through the throngs of people, hoping he would take note of my urgent steps and leave me to run away. There wasn't a chance that I could deal with that right now, not with the trauma going through my mind. I pushed and kicked away people so I could make my way through, and headed towards a crowded staircase, racing away from an invisible threat. Many people turned and grumbled but I didn't have time or energy to waste on apologises.

Unfortunately, he didn't take the hint, and soon a hand clapped on my shoulder, making me shriek and jump in fright. I twisted away the second he saw my face, but still, he followed, surprisingly matching my pace with his own. "Emily, can we talk?"

"We have nothing to talk about."

"Yes, we do."

"No," I whispered, a hiss barely audible over the people around us. "We don't, please...just let me walk, okay? You...go to class or something. Do what you normally would do. You said you didn't want to talk, and...neither do I."

Peter looked startled at my words, almost worried, but he still didn't obey my request. He only continued to hurry after me, not letting go of my shoulder once caught up. "Look, if there's something you're worried about, I can help-"

"-Please, this isn't...I'm fine, okay? Ignore whatever I told you." I couldn't look at him, and even as we stalled in a small alcove with fewer people, my gaze drifted to the ground, counting all the little indents in the floor tiles. "I said what I had to say, and you said your thoughts, and that's that. I just need to focus on finishing this year with good grades, and I don't...I just need to get to class, okay?"

"Look, I've been thinking about what you told me, and I - I believe you, but, I don't know - I'm worried about you. Why do I need to stop for a while? Who's after me? What were you trying to warn me about? How does that affect you?"

His words, despite the gravity and weight to them, made a twisted smile paint itself across my deathly pale cheeks. If only he knew that his true enemy stood not three feet in front of him, just waiting for the opportunity to grab him and sell him off to get broken into bits. The boy trusted Emily to a point of blind belief, not knowing the knife that was hidden behind her back that was just waiting to press into his chest. The poor boy had no clue that Emily was the problem, and that made me laugh in a sense of wishing I could cry.