Miles had been trying to talk to you for weeks. Maybe even months. But every time he called out to you, you didn’t hear him.

Maybe you were just ignoring him.

Which was fine. It wasn’t like Miles had a huge crush on you or anything. Definitely not.

You were new to school, and Miles knew you lived somewhere around Harlem. You reminded him of a flower — precious and beautiful, yet often elusive.

You didn’t hang around many people, opting to draw in your sketchbook or read a book. Maybe you weren’t good at making friends — Miles didn’t judge! After all, even though he was the friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man, he only really had one friend (sorry Ganke).

It wasn’t until Miles tapped you on the shoulder to grab your attention and you jolted in your seat as if he’d pulled your hair that he realised he might have been mistaken about you.

Your hands moved in some familiar sign language motions — and the realisation struck Miles.

You were deaf.

Sorry for scaring you. A relieved smile spread across his face as he started to sign out words too — thank God he knew how to.

It felt like the sun had just come out after a rainy, overcast day. You didn’t hate him. You weren’t being rude.

You just didn’t hear him.

My name is Miles. He grinned. What are you drawing?