"I can see perfectly and clearly. And my glasses are still on the nightstand. I bolt upright and look around my room. Everything - every poster, every tool, every spare part, every spool of wire - I can see it all crisp and clear. I saw every strand of Mom's hair in perfect precision. Her tired eyes. The steam rising from her mug. It should've all been a blurred mess of colored blobs. I should've had to drag my glasses on before any of my surroundings made sense. I grab my glasses and slide them on. Everything shifts out of focus. I take them off and my world sharpens. I scowl down at my frames like they've betrayed me somehow. Then I fumble for my cell phone and dial Porter's number. "Alex?" "You have to do something," I say, panicked. "I woke up and now I'm Peter freaking Parker." "Peter who?" "I can see. Like 20/20. I don't need my glasses anymore." "Oh. Well, that must be a residual from Shooter Delaney. She was a sharp shooter, you know." "Is that all you have to say?" "What do you want me to say?" "I want you to tell me how to reverse it." There's a pause on the other end of the phone. "You want... your bad vision back?" "Yes." "...Why?" "Because my other option is explaining to my parents how I have perfect vision all of a sudden. I'm pretty sure they won't buy the whole 'bitten by a radioactive spider' thing." --