the good girl/bad boy gwiles nobody asked for
"You shouldn't be smoking," came a pointed voice from behind him.
17 year old Miles Morales groaned, staring at the source of the curt voice: a pale, light skinned girl around his age, though much shorter, was giving him a glare. She had blonde hair split into two neat braids, ocean blue eyes, and sported a pair of gold-framed glasses. She wore the standard Visions Academy uniform: a well pressed plaid blue skirt that didn't have a single wrinkle on it, a navy knit sweater, collared shirt and tie, black leggings and black flats. She continued glaring at him, and folded her arms like a dissatisfied mother.
He took another defiant puff. "I don't know, Gwen. You should try it. Maybe you'd loosen up for once."
Miles on the other hand, couldn’t care less for the school’s uniform regulations. He hadn’t even wanted to attend the preppy boarding school to begin with, instead winning a lottery and passing an entry test that honestly, wasn’t that difficult. His blue blazer had several wrinkles on it, he wore a black hoodie, jeans, and his Jordans. The school should've been grateful he was even wearing their stupid blazer to begin with.
It had been approximately one month since Gwen Stacy had transferred to Visions Academy. Her businessman father had to move to Brooklyn for work-related reasons, meaning his perfect daughter had to enrol at the best school in the city. Mr. Stacy had donated a hefty amount of money to the school, meaning their recently counsellor turned principal, Principal Weber, was going to make sure that Gwen was going to be treated like royalty.
Miles had gotten into some trouble with Principal Weber right around the time Gwen had joined; apparently the old hag wasn't too keen on the brash teenager vandalizing her office. So naturally, Weber had put him in charge as Gwen's guide for six weeks, stating that her good energy would rub off on him. As if walking her to each class and giving her a tour of Visions wasn't enough on its own, Weber had gotten special permission from Miles’ parents to have Miles walk Gwen to school every morning and walk her home. Miles protested, obviously he did, stating that six weeks was way too extreme of a time frame to be hanging around the pristine porcelain doll that was Gwen Stacy. However, Weber had threatened it was either six weeks of being a guide or semester of after-school detention. Miles had chosen the latter.
"No thank you," she replied, and he tensed up at the politeness oozing from her tone. "I would rather not be at risk for lung cancer."
He rolled his eyes, dropping his finished smoke, and putting it out underneath his boot. "Yeah, whatever, princess. Are you ready?"
Together, they quietly walked towards Visions. He didn't know why she chose to walk when Mr. Stacy had a line of vehicles parked on their driveway. Not that Miles minded. He could use the cardio.
In the short time Gwen Stacy had been a student at Visions, she had quickly made a name for herself. She was somehow on the Student Council, something Miles found himself avoiding, was in every honours class, became head captain of their roller derby team, and even Miles had to begrudgingly admit that she was a damn good leader. She was somehow terrifying and motivating at the same time. Gwen never falunted any of these traits, though, nor did she show off her money. She wasn’t like those other preppy, spoiled rich girls at Visions. Gwen did these things for her own happiness and benefit, and despite how annoying her goody-two-shoes preppiness was, he liked that about her.
Gwen broke the silence. "Have you done the physics homework?"
Miles rolled his eyes. Apparently one month wasn't enough for Gwen to get the memo: he didn't do ‘homework’. "I'm ditching." he said clearly, as if it were obvious.
Gwen clicked her tongue. "Miles, you're already at risk for suspension for all your absences. If you ditch today too, then—"
"I don't have to come to school?" Miles intervened, placing another cigarette between his lips. "What a nightmare," he chuckled sarcastically, reaching into his back pocket for his lighter.
She rolled her eyes, snatching the cancer stick from his mouth and throwing it into the bushes.
"Would you take this seriously?!" she snapped, though her tone hadn’t lost its perfect and pristine tone. “You could get in trouble or lose your spot in this school!”
Miles scoffed. "Damn, Stacy. Do you care about me or something?"
She smiled sweetly, though there wasn't a trace of mirth in it. "Absolutely not. Besides, I'd love for Weber to extend your punishment by another few weeks."
He froze at that. Could he truly endure six additional weeks of waking up an hour early, walking to the Stacy residence, and having to awkwardly stand outside their gate as Mr. Stacy gave him the evil if-you-hurt-my-daughter-I-hurt-you stink eye every morning before he left for work? Gwen took notice of his rigid shoulders and giggled at his reaction. Miles scowled. That damn angelic sounding laugh was going to drive him truly insane one of these days. Before Miles could think of his own snarky remark to shoot back at her, a shadowy figure emerged from behind them, snaking their arms around Gwen’s waist. Miles felt his hands ball up into fists, and he immediately turned around to find a guy about their age wearing a Midtown High School hoodie.
Gwen’s nostrils flared, and she wriggled to get out of his grip.
"Hey, sweetheart," the stranger said into Gwen's ear. "How's my favourite girl?" His eyes travelled up her body with a leer of entitlement.
Miles felt a flame of anger ignite somewhere deep inside of him, and it only burned more fiercely when he saw that Gwen was visibly repulsed.
She can take care of herself, Miles had to remind himself. Don't lose your temper.
She pushed him away, her arms flexing as she did so. "I was fine, Eddie," Gwen grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest. "Not so much now that you're here."
Miles chuckled to himself lightly, happily reminded that Gwen was able to hold her own. It didn't last long, however, because the interloper gave him the evil eye.
Eddie redirected his gaze to the source of the laughter. "Who's the peasant, Gwen?"
He wrapped his arm around Gwen’s shoulders and waggled an insolent finger at Miles, and he felt the flame of anger return.
Gwen glared at him, answering through clenched teeth. "This is Miles. My friend." She stomped her foot in anger. "But I don't talk about my friends to people like you." she huffed, letting her arms fall from her chest. "What are you doing here?" she asked, wrestling out of his grip and stepping away from Eddie and closer to Miles.
Eddie barked out a laugh and stepped closer, attempting to snake his arm around her again, but she stepped back. His smile became more oily and insinuating.
"Can't I visit my favourite girl?" he asked, reaching for her for yet another time.
Miles yanked Gwen behind him. In one swift move, he grabbed Eddie’s arm and pulled it up and behind his back. Grabbing the moron by his stupid hoodie, Miles raised his first to sock him across the jaw, but he held back when he heard Gwen gasp behind him. Taking a deep breath, he decided to settle this with words, the way Gwen usually would; his tone was dangerously calm as he uttered out his next few words.
"If you want to talk, then fucking talk. But keep your hands off of her," he hissed through clenched teeth. "She obviously doesn't want to be touched."
Miles had dealt with creeps like Eddie before, especially in his old neighbourhood before his father landed his policing job in Brooklyn. He would usually just grab them and drag them to the nearest authority figure.
“Gwen doesn’t belong to anyone,” Miles growled dangerously, putting an angry emphasis on his words. “Now get out of here before I break your arm," he huffed out.
For a brief moment, he turned around and caught Gwen gazing at him in pure awe, and Miles felt his raging anger morph into a much warmer, more pleasant, and less recognizable emotion. But it only lasted a second before she regained her composure and glared at Eddie as well.
Eddie squirmed as he tried to break free from the grasp on his collar. "Fine! Just let go of me. Take the whore!"
That’s when Miles saw red. He dropped Eddie, sending him crashing onto the pavement sidewalk. However, Miles hadn't expected the bastard to recover so quickly because he delivered a swift kick that swept Miles under his feet and he too landed hard on the asphalt. Eddie got up and roughly socked him across the jaw, before looking at Gwen.
"Bitch," he hissed, and Miles’ emotions spiralled out of control.
Gwen began to open her mouth, probably to diffuse the situation and settle this peacefully like she always liked to do, but Miles had different plans. He scrambled to his feet and tackled Eddie to the ground. He pinned him down, digging his knee into Eddie's chest, and delivered a hard punch across his jaw. He didn't intend to keep on going, until Gwen was pulling him off of him and screaming for him to stop. Eddie was once again lying down on the pavement, this time groaning as blood gushed out from his mouth and nose. There were several bruises beginning to form on his cheek and jaw, and Miles spotted a black eye starting to take effect. He delivered one last hard kick to his shin for good measure, and snarled as Gwen grabbed him, ushering him away.
"Call her that one more time!" he challenged as Gwen hurriedly took him in the opposite direction. "If you do so much as look at her, you're dead!" Miles shouted as she practically dragged him back to Stacy residence.
Miles's chest was still heaving with anger as Gwen jammed her keys into the keyhole and unlocked her door. She dragged him all the way upstairs to her bedroom and locked her door.
"Are you crazy?!" she snapped.
"Me?!" he sputtered in disbelief. "He was the one—"
"Miles!" she growled. "Every single guy at Midtown is like that!"
"So?!" he barked in disbelief. "Am I supposed to just stand there and let him touch you and call you names?"
"You're already at risk of suspension! You really don't think Eddie isn't going to Principal Weber right now?!"
He shrugged. "Whatever! Let the idiot squeal. I don't care what happens to me. Nobody does."
Gwen stared at him, before letting out a soft sigh. "I care." she whispered, before squeezing his hands and disappearing into her bathroom.
Miles sat there, surprised. He knew he had his parents, but he had always been an outcast, along with his other troubled friends. He knew they cared, but to hear it from someone as high class as Gwen was an entirely different experience. Before he could process it any further, she returned with a First Aid kit.
"Let me see your hands," she murmured, and he obliged. She sucked in a sharp gasp when she saw how scraped up and busted they were.
Wordlessly, Gwen began to bandage him up.
"Why are you even helping?" he muttered. "I thought you hated me."
"Maybe I've grown quite fond of you," she sighed. "Your brutish criminal behaviour can be charming… sometimes." she added pointedly.
He didn't know what to say after that, so he stayed silent.
“How’s your back?” Gwen asked, referring to his hard fall against the pavement.
He wordlessly slid his shirt off, lightly hissing. He glanced at her to get a read of how bad it was, instead noticing a light blush dust her cheeks.
"Nobody… nobody's ever fought for me like that," she breathed shakily as she dabbed his scrapes with some iodine. “Why did you?”
He hissed at the slight burn against the fresh wounds, and Gwen soothed him by blowing cool air on it.
Miles closed his eyes as she wrapped some gauze around his torso. “I would’ve done it regardless of who it was. Those Midtown douchebags need to understand that this isn’t okay,” he shrugged. “And,” he added offhandedly. “M-maybe I’m fond of you too.”
She cupped his face tenderly.
For the first time, Miles got a good look at her face. Had her eyes always been this beautiful? She smelled amazing, like lavender and vanilla, but something else too… something salty, like the gentle breeze at the beach.
Before he knew it, he had pressed his lips against hers… or did she kiss him? Right now, he couldn’t be bothered.
