3

Peter sat in his bedroom, looking at the cell phone in his hand.

The ringing cell phone.

The one that read, “No caller ID.”

Then he looked in his closet and saw his Spider-Man costume hanging on the clothes rod.

He felt his stomach clench. What should he do?

“Hungry?”

Peter heard May’s voice, but before he could react, a banana hit him in the head.

May stood in the doorway of his bedroom, laughing, hand over her mouth. “So sorry,” she apologized. “I thought that you could sense that with your Peter Tingle.”

Just the sound of the words “Peter Tingle” made him cringe.

“Please do not start calling it my ‘Peter Tingle,’” he pleaded. Just. No.

“So, what’s up?” May teased him. “You can dodge bullets but not bananas?”

“No, I just really need this vacation,” Peter admitted, as he looked at the open suitcase on his bed. “I need a break.” There had been so much happening in the world and in his life and he hadn’t had any time to himself to just stop and deal with it. Or not deal with it. And he needed that. He was a hero whenever he was called, but couldn’t he just have a little time without that call?

May looked at her nephew. “You deserve it.” She meant it. He was such a good kid. And he had the biggest heart. He deserved some time to let it heal.

Peter nodded in appreciation.

“You know what?” she suggested. “You should pack your suit. Just in case. I have a tingle about it.”

“Please stop saying ‘tingle,’ May,” Peter begged, and he now felt like he DESPERATELY needed a vacation.

Smiling, May left Peter to finish packing. He looked at the earlier version of his costume in the closet, and then at the charging unit on the floor. Inside was the Iron Spider costume, the one he had worn into battle against Thanos.

He thought about what May had said about taking his costume.

“No,” he decided out loud. “No, no. I’m not.”

Then he closed his suitcase.