A young New Yorker finds himself in over his head after finding a symbiote that changes him in unexpected ways.

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Chapter 10 Normal Teenager

I push myself up from the roof ledge, dusting my hands off on my hoodie. The wind tugs at my hair like it doesn’t want me to go, but I’ve already lingered up here long enough.

“I should probably go talk to Mom,” I mutter. “Y’know… inform her that I still haven’t jumped off the roof or anything.”

“That seems important. Mothers tend to dislike their offspring hurling themselves from tall structures.”

“Thanks for the insight.”

I head for the door, shoes echoing softly on the rooftop. My chest feels lighter. Not normal—whatever that even means anymore—but lighter.

And maybe that’s enough for today.

I step back into the apartment, the door clicking shut behind me. The warmth of the place is immediate—dim lighting, the faint smell of coffee, and Mom sitting on the couch with her phone still clutched in her hand like she’d never put it down.

She looks up the second I enter, eyes scanning me for bruises, panic, or… goo. I give her a tiny, sheepish wave.

“I’m okay,” I say before she can even ask.

She exhales like she’s been holding her breath since I left. “So?”

I plop down into the chair across from her, hoodie sleeves swallowed around my hands. “So… it was Spider-Man.”

Her eyebrows shoot up. “Spider-Man?”

“Yup. Full suit, rooftop entrance, cool voice and everything.” I pause. “He even did the swing when he left.”

She blinks at me, somewhere between concern and disbelief. “You’re saying Spider-Man came to talk to you?”

I nod. “He’s been bonded with a symbiote before—Venom.”

Her expression shifts immediately. “That one?”

“Not anymore,” I say quickly. “He got it off, but he knows how dangerous it can be. That’s why he wanted to talk. He… he gave me some advice. About how to keep it under control. How to stay in control.”

She softens slightly at that, but I can still see the tension clinging to her shoulders.

“He also offered to check in now and then,” I add. “Not training. Just… helping. If I want.”

She nods slowly, quiet for a moment.

“And do you?”

I look at her.

“I don’t know,” I say honestly. “But I think it’d be stupid not to take the help.”

She exhales again and finally leans back against the couch. “You didn’t jump off anything this time?”

“Not even once,” I say, holding up a hand like I’m taking an oath.

She stares a second longer… then finally lets a small smile pull at the corner of her mouth.

“Well,” she says, “that’s progress.”

I let out a little breath of relief when she says it—“that’s progress.” It’s not a full-on green light, not her saying everything’s okay, but it’s something. A crack in the tension we’ve both been carrying like armor.

I lean forward a bit, resting my elbows on my knees. “He talked a lot about how much control matters. Like… not just punching walls, but how I feel. Emotions. Fear. Anger. Even the, uh—”

She raises an eyebrow.

“—other stuff.”

She smirks. “Sounds like a very uncomfortable puberty metaphor.”

“Oh, extremely.” I groan. “Except mine talks back.”

“We do not appreciate being compared to hormonal confusion.”

She’s quiet for a moment, then looks at me seriously. “And you trust him? Spider-Man?”

“I think I do.” I look down at my hands. “He didn’t tell me what to do. He didn’t try to scare me or treat me like a problem to solve.”

She nods again, slower this time. Thoughtful. Then she reaches out and places her hand over mine, warm and grounding.

“I still don’t like any of this,” she says softly. “But… like I said before if you’re making good choices I can live with that.”

Buzz.

I flinch a little at the sound and glance down at my phone. Harper. Just her name showing up on my screen sends a low ripple of panic through my chest.

Mom notices, of course. “Who’s that?” she asks, casually—but with mom levels of laser focus.

I lock the screen quickly and shrug, playing it as smooth as I can. “A friend. From school.”

Her eyes light up immediately, and she smiles with way too much enthusiasm. “Glad you made a friend already? I’m so proud of you. It’s Harper right?”

I roll my eyes and groan, trying not to smile. “Don’t act so shocked. I’m likeable.”

She raises a brow, all playfully skeptical. “Mmm. Debatable.”

I shake my head, holding in a laugh. “Rude.”

Inside though, I’m scrambling. Harper knows. Luca too. If Mom ever finds out I’ve told someone—two someones—after everything that happened yesterday… she’ll freak. She already thinks I’m one wrong step from disaster.

The screen buzzes again in my hand. I keep it turned away from her.

“I’m gonna go… message her back,” I say, already starting to get up. “Before she thinks I ghosted her or something.”

She waves me off, amused and oblivious. “Fine. But if you’re sneaking off to fight crime, I will ground you.”

“No capes, remember?” I call over my shoulder, slipping down the hall before she can see the panic rising behind my grin.

Alright, Harper, I think, opening the message. What now?

Harper:
Hey meet at warehouse?

Ugh.

Of course she wants to meet at the warehouse. Like we’re in a secret superhero clubhouse or something. Never mind the very serious life-altering information I just got less than 24 hours ago.

Me:
Do you ever text like a normal person?

Dot dot dot.

Harper:
Normal is boring. You coming or what?

I sigh and sink onto my bed, rubbing a hand down my face. I don’t even know what she wants—I haven’t seen her since before the Fantastic Four practically declared me permanently fused with an alien organism.

“We like her a lot,” the symbiote chimes in, unhelpfully.

“Of course you do,” I mutter. “She’s chaos.”

“She is entertaining.”

“She’s a problem.”

“So are we.”

I groan, flop backwards onto the bed, then glance at the door. Mom’s still out there, probably happily basking in the illusion that I’m just texting a perfectly normal school friend and not coordinating secret symbiote check-ins.

Me:
Give me 20 minutes.

“Hey, I’m gonna just go for a quick walk…” I say as casually as I can, already halfway to the door, hoping to avoid—

“Elisa…”

I freeze, sighing under my breath. “Yes???”

Mom leans over the back of the couch, not mad—just giving me that look. The one that says I know you’re up to something but I’m choosing to be generous.

“You can see your friend,” she says gently. “I’m not keeping you captive.”

I blink. “Oh. I—sorry.”

She smiles a little, soft but tired. “I’m glad you have a friend. Or friends, maybe?” she adds, just a little too hopeful.

I roll my eyes, but I can’t help the small smile tugging at the corner of my mouth. “Yeah. Maybe.”

Then her expression shifts. Serious, but not unkind. “As long as you don’t mention any of this stuff,” she says, voice lowering. “It’s not safe to. Not until something gets done about Alchemax.”

“Yeah, of course,” I say quickly, nodding. “I’d never.”

I step out the door, closing it gently behind me.

God, I’m such a liar.

A subway ride later, I’m crammed between a guy listening to music way too loud through his headphones and a woman who keeps side-eyeing my boots like they personally offended her. It’s the usual chaos—grime, flickering lights, the gentle hum of too many lives jammed into one tunnel of barely contained patience.

I lean against the cold metal pole, hoodie up, trying to disappear.

“You lied to your mother,” the symbiote says, not accusatory. Just… observing.

“Yeah, thanks for the reminder,” I think back, shutting my eyes.

“Why didn’t you tell her they know?”

“Because she’d freak. She’d lock the door. And then she’d really start thinking I can’t handle this.”

“Can you?”

I open my eyes and glance at my reflection in the window. The faint outline of a girl I’m still not used to seeing stares back.

“Ask me later.”

The subway slows, jerks, then lurches to a stop.

Red Hook.

I step out onto the platform, the world outside cooler than expected. The kind of breeze that carries bad ideas and old graffiti.

I head up the stairs, toward the warehouse.

Harper better not be throwing things again.

I spot them as soon as I round the corner near the old warehouse—Harper, sitting cross-legged on the hood of a long-abandoned van like she owns the city, and Luca leaning against the side, half-eaten protein bar in one hand and that easy, clueless smile on his face.

“There she is,” Harper says, like she’s announcing a royal entrance. “You took long enough. We were about to assume you got grounded or kidnapped.”

“Could’ve texted,” Luca adds, peeling another bite.

I stop a few feet away, hands in my hoodie pockets, heart tapping a little too quick. Not from nerves, exactly—just… weight. The past twenty-four hours feel like a whole other lifetime.

They look so normal. Like this is still just some secret club.

And maybe for them, it is.

“You should tell them,” the symbiote murmurs, curious. “They are our pack.”

They don’t need to know all of it, I think back. Not yet.

But still… the words sit heavy in my mouth.

Should I tell them?

About Reed. Sue. The scan.

About the fact I can’t ever go back to being Arin.

About how I’m not just stuck with this voice in my head temporarily?

Would they even understand?

“Hey,” Harper says, peering at me. “You good?”

I hesitate.

Yeah.

I could tell them.

Or I could lie.

Again.

Just like I did to my mom.

I shift my weight, kicking a loose rock near my boot as Harper and Luca both watch me. I open my mouth, close it, then finally just exhale.

“I mean…” I start, voice lower than I intend. “You two reacted so well when I told you about the whole symbiote thing. And the whole… body change thing.” I motion vaguely to myself. “So after that… how could I lie to you now?”

They exchange a glance, but neither of them interrupts.

I take a breath. “So, uh—my mom’s friend? Claire? She had us meet a ‘specialist’ yesterday.”

Harper leans forward slightly, curious. “Like a doctor?”

“Not exactly.” I shift uncomfortably. “We went to the Baxter Building.”

Luca nearly chokes on his protein bar. “Wait, wait—what?”

Harper blinks. “You’re kidding. That’s, like, Fantastic Four turf, right?”

“Yup.” I nod. “Met Reed Richards. Sue Storm too.”

Harper whistles low. “Damn. Go big or go home, huh?”

I give a weak smile. “Yeah… well, they scanned me. Ran tests. Talked a lot of science at me.”

Luca’s grin fades just a little. “So… what’d they say?”

I glance away, jaw tight.

“That it’s permanent. The bond. The body. All of it.”

The silence hits hard.

And then—Harper hops off the van, crossing the distance in a few quick steps and punching me lightly in the arm.

“Ow—what the hell?”

“You’re still you, genius,” she says, matter-of-fact. “So unless the symbiote rewired your brain to be a complete jerk, I think we’re good. You don’t need to worry what we think.”

Luca nods, stepping in beside her. “Yeah. Permanent’s a big word, but… doesn’t really change how we see you.”

“Thanks,” I say, my voice catching a little despite myself. “I mean, I’m not really happy about it. Who would be? But…”

I shrug, arms crossing, eyes fixed on a rusted-out window frame. “If I’m stuck like this, I’m stuck like this. Nothing I can really do, right?”

Harper doesn’t say anything, but I can feel her watching me. Not judging. Just… there.

“And today,” I continue, rubbing the back of my neck, “well… I met someone else.”

Luca leans in, interest piqued. “What, like another superhero?”

I nod slowly. “Yeah. The superhero.”

“Spider-Man.”

Luca’s jaw drops. “No way.”

“Yup. Dropped onto my roof like it was totally normal. Had a little heart-to-heart.”

Harper crosses her arms. “Did he give you a big speech on responsibility?”

“Basically. But… it helped. Weirdly. He gets it probably more than anyone else. He’s been through it.”

“Nice,” Harper says, clearly trying not to sound too impressed. “So what, he’s your alien monster mentor now?”

I snort. “Not officially. But maybe.”

Luca grins. “That’s… actually pretty awesome.”

“There’s just one hiccup,” I say, the good feeling still lingering—but reality already creeping back in around the edges.

Harper raises a brow. “What.”

I hesitate, then sigh. “Well… my mom? She’s really not into the whole superhero thing. Or Alchemax. Or, like, danger in general. Which, you know… fair.”

Luca gives me a duh face. “She’s your mom. Of course she doesn’t want you anywhere near that stuff.”

“Yeah, but it’s not just concern. She straight-up begged me not to do anything. Just… stay hidden. Live a normal life. Like I can just ignore this.” I gesture to myself, then vaguely up at the sky.

Harper folds her arms. “But you have the chance to be trained by superheroes. The Fantastic Four. Spider-Man, for god’s sake. People literally dream about that kind of thing.”

“I know,” I say, dragging my hand through my hair. “Believe me, I know. And part of me wants that. Wants to do something with all this.”

I glance at them. “But if I screw up, it’s not just on me. It’s on my mom. And Claire. And anyone who knows what I am now.”

There’s a beat of silence.

Then Harper says, “That’s a lot of pressure for one goo girl.”

I snort.

“At least for now,” I say, toeing a cracked line in the pavement with the tip of my boot, “I’m gonna do what I’m supposed to. Lay low. Be normal—whatever that means now.”

I glance up at both of them, Harper smirking already, Luca pretending not to smirk. “But… I don’t know. Maybe later. I might try. Something.”

Harper grins like she’s been waiting for me to say that. “I mean, you kinda have to try it out a little, Maple Leaf.”

I groan. “You really gonna keep calling me that even though you know I’m not actually from Canada?”

Harper gasps, one hand over her chest in mock horror. “Excuse me—are you telling lies now, Elisa? To your dear friends? Your loving, supportive friends?”

Luca snorts. “You did have the accent for like… half a lunch period. Or a accent that was really weird and I don’t think it was Canadian.”

“I panicked!” I say, shoving Harper’s arm playfully. “I didn’t even know I was doing one.”

Harper smiles laughing a bit then starts to frown. “Sooo,” she says, dragging the word out like she’s been dying to get to this part, “there’s a reason I asked you guys to come here.”

“Oh—yeah, didn’t even think about that.” I rub the back of my neck. “I kind of got… distracted, I guess.”

She grimaces a little, pulling her phone from her jacket. “Just look what I found.”

The moment I see her holding it out, my gut twists. A little voice in the back of my head starts yelling.

Oh shit.

It’s me. Symbiote out. Mid-swing. Clear as day, captured from below with just enough blur to scream real, but just enough focus to make out the red and black suit and faint tendrils. The arc of movement.

It’s from that night—when I swung back home ahead of Harper and Luca. Which means someone saw me and took this…

I stare at it.

Harper, to her credit, doesn’t tease this time. She’s serious now. “It’s making the rounds. Mostly just Twitter Insta and TikTok, but… it’s spreading.”

Luca leans over to look. “They’re calling you ‘Shadow Spider’ or ‘Crimson Wraith’—that one’s my favorite, by the way.”

My heart is in my throat. “How bad is it?”

Harper looks at me, and for once, she doesn’t smile.

“Bad enough that if Alchemax is at all online—and I’m sure they are—they probably know what they’re looking for now.”

Great.

“So far I’ve seen three different pictures,” Harper continues, scrolling with practiced fingers. “Oh wait—four. Yeah, this one’s broad daylight, sooo…”

I groan and cover my face with both hands. “Oh great, people saw me yesterday too. God, I’m such an idiot.”

Luca raises both hands like he’s trying to calm a skittish animal. “Hey—hold up. It’s not that bad.”

I peek through my fingers. “Luca. There are four pictures. One of which is apparently in high definition broad daylight. I have the world’s most well known alien attached to me, I’ve swung through the city, and I’m supposed to be in hiding.”

“To be fair,” the symbiote murmurs, “we were hiding. Just… poorly.”

“You don’t get to talk right now,” I hiss, earning a confused look from Harper.

She pockets her phone. “Look, I brought you here so you’d know. Not to freak you out. But yeah—we gotta be smarter.”

I nod slowly, the guilt wrapping tight around my ribs. “I know. No more swinging. No more showing off. No more suit.”

“We could camouflage.”

“Can you camouflage my common sense, too?”

Harper nudges me lightly with her elbow. “You’re not an idiot. You’re just new at this.”

Luca adds, “Yeah, and on the bright side… at least they didn’t name you something really dumb.”

Harper grins. “Like ‘Goo Girl.’”

I let out a groan that turns into a reluctant laugh.

Still, in the back of my head, one thought sits like a cold stone.

If Alchemax is watching… they’re not guessing anymore. They’ve know what I look like exactly.

“Not that this isn’t important,” Luca says, already slipping into that tone he uses when he’s trying to be charming and annoying at the same time, “but while we’re here… Elisa, could you, you know, do some cool stuff again?”

I blink at him. “Are you serious?”

He shrugs, grinning. “C’mon. Just a little. Swing around a lamppost or punch a hole in something?”

“No way,” I shoot back. “Clearly, I’m not good at hiding this. Which means no more showing off. Like, at all.”

Luca groans. “Ugh, boring.”

Harper rolls her eyes, sliding her phone back into her jacket pocket. “He’s got goo envy.”

“Do not call it that,” I say flatly.

She smirks. “Anyway, why don’t we just go have lunch? Like normal teenagers.”

I raise an eyebrow. “You think any of us qualify as normal?”

“Okay, maybe not normal, but passable in public,” she says, motioning toward the street. “I’m buying. I’ve been craving something greasy and terrible.”

Luca brightens. “Can I get, like, three orders of fries?”

“If you shut up about ‘goo powers,’ sure.”

I sigh, but I can’t help smiling a little. “Alright. No powers. No drama. Just lunch.”

“This is disappointing.”

“You’ll survive,” I mutter under my breath.

“Oh and no, I’m not swinging us there,” I say, cutting Luca off before his mouth even opens.

“Awwwwww,” he groans, slumping like I just canceled Christmas.

Harper smirks and throws an arm around his shoulders. “Let it go, Spider-Boy. We’re walking like the humble civilians we are.”

We cut across a few blocks, wind weaving between the buildings, a little cooler than I expected. For once, I don’t mind the walk.

The city around us hums with the usual energy—cars honking, pigeons scattering, people yelling into phones about things that probably don’t matter in the grand scheme. But somehow, it all feels less overwhelming right now.

We finally reach this little burger place Harper insists is “the best grease trap in Brooklyn.” Neon sign half-flickering, sticky menu, slightly questionable tile floor. Perfect.

We slide into a booth, Luca already eyeing the milkshake machine like he’s about to propose to it.

I lean back against the seat, finally letting the tension slide off my shoulders.

Just fries, friends… and maybe, maybe a few moments of peace.

“…I still think we could’ve swung.”

“Shut up,” I whisper.

“I’ll be right back—I gotta pee,” Luca announces.

Harper doesn’t even look up. “TMI.”

I smirk. “You get used to him. Or… mostly used to him. I don’t think full immunity’s possible.”

She snorts at that, and we both watch him disappear toward the bathrooms, probably humming some superhero theme under his breath.

Then, the moment shifts. Harper leans forward on her elbows, looking at me—not in that teasing way she usually does. It’s quieter. More… intentional.

“So now that you’re officially, permanently a girl…”

I sigh, already feeling my shoulders tighten. “Yeah?”

She hesitates, then shrugs, trying to play it off casual. “I mean… just wondering how you’re doing with that. Like, really doing. Not the ‘hey I can joke about it so it’s fine’ version.”

I stare at the table for a second. The Formica’s chipped in the corner, and it gives me something to focus on besides my own brain.

“I’m…” I trail off. Then start again. “I don’t know. I’m surviving. Which I guess is the baseline goal these days.”

Harper watches me for a beat, then nods slowly.

“That’s fair.”

I fidget with a straw wrapper. “Some moments are fine. Some moments I look in the mirror and… it’s like I don’t recognize the girl staring back. Other times I see her and think—‘Okay, that’s me. I can do this.’ Then ten minutes later, I’m spiraling again.”

“Sounds exhausting.”

“It is.”

She nudges a crumpled napkin toward me with her finger. “Well… if you ever want to talk about girl stuff—or complain about it, or scream into a hoodie about how bras are literal instruments of torment—I’m around.”

And somehow, that makes it easier to breathe.

“Thanks,” I say softly. “I might take you up on that.”

“Good.” She leans back. “Also, not to alarm you, but I’m like really good at helping people figure out their aesthetic.”

I groan. “Oh no.”

“Too late. That hoodie’s days are numbered.”

“The hoodies are the only thing keeping me sane,” I say, clutching the sleeves like they’re sacred relics.

Harper grins like a cat spotting a wounded bird. “Yeah, well, remember how you said your luggage was lost?”

I blink, suddenly realizing where this is going.

“Well… obviously it wasn’t,” she continues, smug and deadly. “Which means if I’m gonna judge your wardrobe—”

I groan. “—I have to actually have one.”

She leans across the table, eyes narrowing like she’s issuing a challenge. “So. What are we working with, Miss Hoodie?”

“I don’t know. Pants. Like… jeans. T-shirts. More hoodies. Things I can hide in.”

She rolls her eyes. “We’re gonna have to fix that.”

“Why is everyone in my life obsessed with fixing me?” I mutter.

Harper raises a brow. “Because you’re a mess with potential. And cute cheekbones.”

I open my mouth. Then close it. “…Thanks?”

“You’re welcome. Step one, we go through what you’ve got. Step two, I drag you to the mall and open your eyes to a world beyond sweats.”

I sink into the booth, already regretting every choice I’ve made that led to this moment.

From the bathroom, i hear a toilet flush and Luca’s voice echoing something about milkshakes.

Harper grins again. “Step three, we bribe him to carry the bags.”

How do I get out of this, I think, staring at Harper like she’s just declared war on my wardrobe and my sanity at the same time.

“Listen,” I say, holding up both hands, “I’d totally go for this fashion intervention—but I am broke. Like, lost-my-job-because-I-became-a-girl-overnight level broke.”

Harper just waves a hand like I told her the weather forecast. “Don’t worry. My parents are loaded.”

I blink. “Wait, what?”

She leans back, arms crossed, looking way too smug. “Yeah. Old money, uptown. Trust funds and wine cellars. I don’t like to talk about it because people assume I’m snobby.”

“…And you’re not?”

She grins. “I am, but I like to earn that reputation on my own.”

I laugh in spite of myself. “Still. I can’t just let you buy me clothes.”

“Sure you can,” she says easily. “Call it a starter kit for your post-‘goo’ identity.”

“I’m not some charity case.”

“Nope. You’re a friend who got body-swapped by an alien. Completely different.”

I look away, unsure what to say, the familiar tightness creeping into my chest again.

Harper nudges me lightly. “Hey. Look, if it makes you feel better, consider it a loan. Pay me back someday when you’re a wildly successful… I don’t know. Symbiote-powered vigilante-slash-physicist.”

“Physicist, huh?”

“You’ve got the brain for it. I’ve got the credit card.”

And just like that, the panic softens.

“…Fine,” I say. “But only one store.”

Harper’s eyes light up like she just won the lottery. “Oh—quick,” she says, leaning in over the table like she’s about to share state secrets. “Before Luca gets back—how hot was Spider-Man in person?”

I practically choke on my soda. “Harper!”

“What?” she says, all faux innocence, though her smirk is way too proud. “Superheroes literally run around in spandex, they’re super fit, and Spider-Man? I know that guy’s got a massive gym routine. I mean, his ass is huge.”

I cover my face with both hands. “Please stop talking.”

“You’re not denying it,” she sing-songs.

“I’m not confirming it either!”

“You hesitated.”

“It’s not—okay, maybe—ugh, I hate you.”

She cackles like a witch, triumphant. “You are so into your goo mentor.”

I groan and slouch as low into the booth as I can without vanishing into another dimension.

From across the restaurant, I hear the bathroom door swing open and Luca’s voice call out, “What’d I miss?”

“Nothing!” I yell.

Harper just sips her drink with a wink.

This girl’s gonna be the death of me. Or at least my dignity…

I’m not into guys, I think, sitting there as Harper still giggles across the table. Right?

It hits me like a slow wave—how long it’s been since I even let myself think about it. Attraction. Dating. That stuff used to feel far off, something for later, for when the world made more sense. And now?

Now I don’t even know what I am anymore.

Have I really been attracted to anyone since this?

Male?

Female?

Anything?

The thought coils tight in my chest. What if my brain got rewired with the rest of me? What if this changed that too?

My heart thuds.

“I’ll be right back. I gotta… pee,” I mutter, pushing away from the booth.

“TMI!” Harper calls, grinning.

“Yeah, yeah.”

I duck into the tiny one-person bathroom, shut the door behind me, and lock it with a quiet click.

My reflection stares back from the smudged mirror. The longer I look, the more the unfamiliar becomes familiar, which is somehow worse.

I close my eyes. Try to imagine someone—anyone—who makes my chest flutter, who gives me that electric pull I used to associate with crushes.

Picture a girl.

It’s slow, hesitant. A soft smile. A hand brushing hair behind an ear. The curve of someone leaning just a little too close. My heart picks up.

Okay.

Now—

Picture a guy.

Broad shoulders. A warm laugh. A look held too long. The memory of Spider-Man leaning just a little toward me on that rooftop, voice calm and understanding.

My heart still picks up.

I blink.

“Curious,” the symbiote murmurs. “This is new to us, too.”

“I’m not… sure,” I whisper to myself.

“We will probably see him again,” the symbiote says casually, almost like it’s nudging me with a smug elbow. “You could ask him out.”

My eyes snap open. “No way.”

“Why not?”

“One—he’s like, an adult. A full-on adult. Possibly thirty! Or forty! Or… infinity! Who knows?”

“He is in shape.”

I groan. “Two, he’s a guy. And I—don’t even know what I… am yet. Or if I even—just—no.”

The silence that follows isn’t judgmental, just curious.

“…Interesting reaction.”

“I’m allowed to have boundaries.”

“And yet, you pictured him.”

I cover my face. “Oh my god you’re worse than Harper.”

“We are learning from the best.”

I spin toward the sink, splash cold water on my face, and stare at myself in the mirror. Still flushed, still me—whoever that is.

“I am not asking Spider-Man out.”

“Not yet.”

“Stop.”

I dry my hands and stare dead-on at my reflection, trying to will the heat out of my face. “I really need to limit time around Harper if you’re gonna start acting like her,” I mutter. “At least she’s not in my head.”

“You could ask her out.”

I blink.

“…Harper?”

“She is amusing. Protective. She sees you clearly. And you blush around her frequently.”

I stare blankly at the mirror. “That doesn’t mean I like her.”

“It doesn’t mean you don’t.”

I open my mouth to argue—but the words don’t come out. Because, annoyingly, I do blush around her. A lot. And she has been there through all of this. Teasing, sure, but kind. Steady. Even when I didn’t know who I was anymore, she acted like she did.

I stare at myself a little longer, brows drawing together.

Do I like Harper?

I mean… I like her. But like-like her?

“I need to get out of this bathroom,” I mumble, unlocking the door.

“Before your thoughts get louder?”

“Before you do.”

“We still exist outside of that bathroom,” it says, tone bordering on smug.

“Yeah,” I think back, sliding into the booth again, “but so do distractions. Like food.”

Luca’s mid-bite into a massive burger, already oblivious. Harper gives me a quick look like she knows something happened in there but, mercifully, doesn’t press.

I grab a fry, tossing it in my mouth, and lean back like I haven’t just had a minor identity crisis in a dingy restroom.

“Everything okay?” Harper asks, casual, but there’s something behind it. Sharp. Watching.

“Yeah,” I say with a shrug and a small, crooked smile. “Just needed a minute. Long week.”

She nods, still watching me. Then tosses a fry in her mouth. “You don’t say.”

I take another bite, more for the comfort than the flavor.

“So, Luca,” Harper says, way too sweetly to be innocent, “we have a stop to make after this. You don’t mind sticking around, right?”

He freezes mid-chew, eyes narrowing with suspicion. “Wait… this is a girl thing, isn’t it?”

“Just some clothes shopping,” she replies, all casual-like. Too casual.

Luca groans first. “Noooooo.”

Then I join in. “Ughhh.”

Harper beams, entirely unfazed. “Oh come on, don’t act like I’m dragging you into battle. It’s just a mall.”

“Yeah, but with you,” I mutter. “Which means it’s a mission.”

She winks. “Damn right it is.”

Luca slumps dramatically in his seat. “I should’ve stayed in the bathroom.”

Harper grabs another fry, utterly victorious. “You should’ve. Now you’re both mine.”

I shoot him a look and mouth Run.

He mouths back Too late.

I glance at Harper as she steals the last fry off my plate like it’s nothing. She’s leaning back now, relaxed, totally in her element—probably already mentally picking out half an outfit I didn’t ask for.

And as much as I want to roll my eyes… I don’t.

Because something weird happens. Something I really didn’t expect.

I think back to the bathroom.

To what the symbiote said.

“You blush around her frequently.”

I hate that it’s right. Because now I’m hyper-aware of it. The way she smirks when she knows she’s being annoying. The way she always says my name like it’s a punchline and a promise at the same time. How fast she showed up for me—no questions, just chaos and support in equal measure.

And now I’m wondering… if maybe all that blushing wasn’t just embarrassment.

She catches me looking and raises an eyebrow. “What?”

I blink. “Nothing.”

She squints at me, suspicious. “You’re thinking weird thoughts again, aren’t you?”

“Absolutely not,” I lie, stuffing a napkin in my mouth to avoid saying anything else.

“She sees you clearly,” the symbiote echoes.

I know, I think. And that’s the scary part.

“You do find her attractive, yes?” the symbiote asks, its voice smooth, genuinely curious—like it’s cataloging my thoughts for later analysis.

I glance at Harper again, this time letting my eyes linger a little longer.

She’s leaning forward now, teasing Luca about something, hands moving expressively like they always do when she’s trying to make a point she knows will get under your skin. Her laughter is sharp and unapologetic, drawing attention without even trying.

Her skin’s a warm caramel tone, sun-kissed even in winter. Thick black curls are pulled into a half-ponytail, a few wild strands slipping loose and framing her cheekbones just right. Her eyes—a rich, amber brown—are always narrowed in this confident, calculating way, like she’s already ten moves ahead of everyone in the room.

And yeah, okay… her jeans fit really well.

I swallow, suddenly very aware of the warmth creeping into my face again.

“Yeah,” I think reluctantly. “I guess… so.”

“Noted,” the symbiote replies. “Harper is visually and emotionally stimulating. This could be… interesting.”

“Let’s not talk about Harper anymore, please,” I think firmly, trying to shove the image of her smirk, her curls, and her dangerously tight jeans out of my brain.

“Very well,” the symbiote replies, tone light but prying. “How about Luca?”

I blink and glance across the table.

Luca’s laughing at his own joke—again—which, honestly, happens way more than it should. He’s got this tousled mess of dark brown hair that he always claims isn’t styled, but I’m pretty sure he spends twenty minutes getting it to look like he just rolled out of bed. His skin’s a warm olive tone, dotted with faint freckles across the bridge of his nose that no one mentions but everyone notices.

He’s broad-shouldered, athletic without being obnoxious about it, and always somehow sitting in the most relaxed position humanly possible—like gravity just works differently for him. His eyes are hazel, bright with this kind of easy openness that makes you forget how insanely dumb some of his jokes are.

And the thing is… he’s always been there. Solid. Loyal. Never once treating me different—not when I was Arin, and not now, not as Elisa.

He’s not subtle. He says what’s on his mind. Which means when he says he’s got my back? He means it.

I look down, picking at the edge of my napkin.

“He is… safe,” I think, a little surprised by how true it feels. “Kind.”

“Attractive?”

I pause.

“…Yeah. That too.”

But it feels different than with Harper. Not any less confusing—just… quieter.

Less like a spark.

More like warmth.

Like… maybe I already.

“No no no. He’s—he’s like a brother to me, okay? I’ve known him forever. That’s just… not a thing. It can’t be a thing.”

The symbiote pauses, and I can feel the question coming before it even finishes forming.

“And is Harper like a sister?”

I groan into my soda and practically drown myself in it to avoid answering.

“Just—no more,” I think sharply, “stop it. Stop trying to matchmake or whatever weird emotional experiment you’re running in there. This isn’t your job.”

“We are bonded. Your instincts are now ours. Curiosity is natural.”

“Yeah, well so is privacy. Try it sometime.”

The symbiote quiets—for now—but I can feel it watching, like a cat pretending to nap while its tail flicks.

Harper’s talking to Luca about piercings now, and Luca’s dramatically insisting he’d pass out before a needle ever got near him.

I sit back in the booth, arms crossed, trying to look annoyed instead of emotionally scrambled.

Because I don’t need feelings on top of everything else.

Especially not those kinds of feelings.

Especially not now.

A bit later, after we’ve all devoured more fries than should legally count as a side and Luca’s told exactly three too many stories about almost dying doing something stupid, Harper slaps the table and stands.

“Alright,” she says with the enthusiasm of someone about to drag a friend into battle, “let’s go.”

I raise an eyebrow. “You sound way too excited about this.”

“That’s because I am.” She beams and gestures grandly toward the door. “Come, my fashion project. Destiny awaits.”

Luca groans as he slides out of the booth. “I regret everything.”

“You’re not even the one getting styled!” I shoot back.

“Exactly,” he says. “That means I’m gonna have to watch it…”

Luca gives me this look—half amused, half… something else—and casually eyes me up and down in a way that makes my stomach flip and my brain overheat.

“Maybe it won’t be too bad,” he mutters.

I blink. “What?”

He shrugs with the most nonchalant grin I’ve ever seen. “I mean, Harper’s got decent taste. And you’ve got…” he pauses, looking me up and down again, slower this time. “…potential.”

My face goes bright red in less than a second. “Oh my god, stop talking.”

Harper’s already halfway to the door, cackling. “This is why he’s here.”

“You’re both terrible,” I groan, grabbing my jacket and following like I’m marching to the gallows.

The symbiote hums lightly in the back of my mind, way too smug. “We enjoy being admired.”

“We are never talking about this again,” I hiss.

Luca opens the door for me with a mock bow. “After you, fashion icon in progress.”

I glare at him, but my cheeks won’t cool down.

This is going to be the longest shopping trip of my life.

End of chapter 10