A/N: Hi pals! I needed to read something like this, so I figured, why not just write it? It's still a WIP (like, majorly so), and I'm busy with uni but I'm striving for weekly updates at the least. I hope you enjoy and please do leave me some feedback in the comments.
English had never been a subject that Peter thoroughly enjoyed, but never before had it seemed to drag the way it did that day. He couldn't help but stealthily throw a glance at the phone he was hiding beneath the table, but the lock screen was still as empty as it had been the last time he checked approximately 15 seconds before. He stifled a sigh as his hands clenched and unclenched repeatedly to try and ease his rapidly growing anxiety. It wasn't strange for him to not hear from Mr. Stark for a week. He was a busy man, after all, helping his wife run a billion-dollar business, engineering all kinds of ground breaking technology, hosting charity events, and all that was just a quiet Wednesday afternoon to him. Peter wouldn't normally worry about it, honestly. But this time was different… It was Friday. And not just Friday: it was the third Friday of the month. The day May and Mr. Stark, after many (rather one-sided) shouting matches with a fearful and exasperated Mr. Stark desperately trying to shrink into their tattered couch, had managed to settle on. The day Peter would come over every month and stay at the Avengers Compound upstate.
Peter had woken up that morning excited to visit his mentor and continue the various projects they had been working on last month, bouncing with endless energy, but that had been dying out slowly ever since, caused by the undeniable lack of communication from Mr. Stark's side. He had been sending texts with growing urgency since the day before, and the texts show to have been read by the older man, but he had apparently not felt any need to respond to Peter's questions about how he would be making his way upstate that afternoon. Rationally, he knew that Mr. Stark would only be ignoring him like this if it was caused by something unavoidable and important, like saving-the-world- or Pepper-is-upset-with-me-because-of-something-and-I-need-to-find-out-why-business, but Peter's mind tends to be anything but rational and thus he was currently eating himself up inside wondering which obnoxious joke, clumsy fuck-up or general awkwardness had become that final proverbial straw that broke the camel's back, which obviously represented any and all faith Mr. Stark could have still possibly had in Peter at that point.
After his third, not-as-stifled-as-he'd-like sigh, Ned glanced at him from the corner of his eye, and nudged his shoulder with his own in a show of silent comradery. Peter shot him a small smile back, comforted by his friend's ability to comfort him with the smallest of gestures.
"Mr. Parker, am I so boring that must resort to playing video games on your phone during my class?" Peter's head shot up from where he had been checking his phone again (still nothing), his eyes wide and his heart hammering in his chest.
"I- I'm sorry, Mrs. Winterhalter, I'll pay attention." Behind him, he heard loud snickering and ill-concealed cracks on his intelligence, which he could, without even looking, safely attribute to Flash and his new-found best friend. Mrs. Winterhalter squinted her eyes sternly at the boys in the back of the classroom before turning her gaze back to Peter.
"See to it, Mr. Parker," she simply added, before launching back into her story as if she had never been interrupted. Peter carefully glanced over his shoulder and just caught a glimpse of Flash and the new kid, who had apparently immediately felt drawn to the bully and his goons the moment he entered the school. With Peter having been appointed his personal 'buddy' during his first week, giving him responsibility over getting the new kid to his classes and catching him up on the curriculum and practicalities around the school, this all did not add to the overall quality of Peter's day. The kid had seemed nice enough when he met him this morning.
"Good morning, Mr. Parker, thank you for coming in earlier today," Principal Morita said, as he gestured for Peter to sit down on the chair in front of the desk. The other chair was occupied by another boy, who glanced up at Peter through blond curls that almost reached his eyes in their untamed length, and smiled kindly. Peter smiled back as he lowered himself in the other chair.
"This is Harley Keener," Principal Morita explained, nodding his head towards the blond, "He has recently moved to New York from Tennessee and wants to share his talents and knowledge with us here at Midtown." The boy, Harley, lowered his head a little as if embarrassed and scratched the back of his neck.
"I'm just here to learn, Principal Morita," he muttered.
"Nonsense," the older man boomed, slamming his hand into the table in his enthusiasm, startling both teens, "You came in mid-term with personal recommendations by Tony Stark himself!" This caught Peter's attention. His head shot up and he glanced between his principal and Harley. "Tony… Stark?"
"This is precisely why I wanted you to be Harley buddy during his first week here at Midtown," Principal Morita continued, oblivious to Peter's inner turmoil. "Since you are Mr. Stark's personal intern and all…" This caused Harley to look up and slowly turn his head to face Peter.
"You're not Tony's intern," he snapped, and Peter felt as if he had been punched in the gut, anxiety raising rapidly to form a lump in his throat.
"I- I am, I'm- I-." Harley's glare intensified and he leaned forward towards Peter.
"You're what?"
"Now, now, play nice, boys," Principal Morita interrupted, his voice significantly more serious than before, having obviously caught on to the confrontation. "You have both brought in statements signed by Mr. Stark stating that you are his personal intern. Maybe he simply has not yet got to introduce you to each other yet." Of course… Peter's defensive stance deflated as he felt heat rise to his cheeks in embarrassment. Mr. Stark had spoken before about potentially hiring actual high school prodigies as interns to make their spider-cover more realistic, but Peter hadn't thought he would hire students to be his personal intern. It made his stomach feel heavy for no identifiable reason.
"Here's your schedule and your locker number and combination," Principal Morita sighed, handing Harley an envelope. "I hope you have a wonderful first day at Midtown High."
"Thank you, Principal Morita," Harley nodded politely, and stood up, making his way out of the office without even glancing back at Peter. The latter shot up from his chair at this sight, bid a hasty goodbye to his principal and followed him. By the time he caught up, Harley was already halfway down the hallway.
"S-so, what's your first class?" Peter asked, his voice trembling from nerves. Harley did not acknowledge him whatsoever, and seemed to even pick up his pace. However, Peter (with superpowers and all), could easily pass him, and abruptly blocked his path, causing the blond to run into him. "Come on, I'm just trying to help you here. Mr. Stark-" At the mention of Mr. Stark's name, Harley practically snarled at him, raising a finger to point directly at Peter's face.
"Listen up, punk," he spat. "Tony Stark may be your little nerdy wet dream but he is an actual person. You can't just go around making up some shit about a fake internship, that I know for a fact is absolute bullshit; Tony doesn't hire interns, nearly nobody is even allowed to enter his lab, just so you can go around and skip class without getting in trouble. You're a fucking fraud, who falsified some documents to make it look like he is interning with Tony Stark." Harley was yelling at this point, red in the face as he prodded his finger into Peter's chest. Peter couldn't breathe, his hands shaking uncontrollably as he held them up to try and calm Harley down. Neither of them even noticed the growing crowd of students that was forming around the confrontation.
"You are not Tony Stark's intern, you're not in any way affiliated with Stark Industries. You're a liar and a fraud and I am going to expose you for it." With those words, Harley pushed past Peter and stormed away, leaving the latter alone in the hallway, surrounded by his peers, who were all staring at him dumbstruck.
"Yeah, fuck you, dickwad, I told you all that Penis Parker was lying about his so-called 'internship'," sounded a voice that unmistakably belonged to Flash Thompson from somewhere to his left. Peter felt somebody pushing him from his right, and flinched away instinctively until he noticed that it was Ned.
"Come on, Peter, let's just go to class."
Flash's schedule apparently synced up perfectly with Harley's and thus an alliance was formed solely over their shared wish to see Peter Parker humiliated. Maybe this situation was part of the reason he felt so anxious to hear from Mr. Stark. Scratch that, it was definitely the reason. He wanted to know if Mr. Stark really did know Harley and if so, why he had kept his hiring a secret from Peter. Harley seemed more familiar with Peter's mentor than he could ever hope to be, but he seemed to share the fierce protectiveness over the man.
Just as the bell rang to signify the end of their final period of the day, and Mrs. Winterhalter desperately raised her voice to give them some last-minute homework assignment to complete over the weekend, Peter felt his phone buzz in his pocket and wasted no time in unlocking his screen and opening the message.
TONY STARK
I'm outside, kid
Peter was immediately overwhelmed with relief and he couldn't help the small smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth.
"Is he here?" Ned asked, lifting his backpack onto his shoulders. Peter nodded as he frantically started packing his belongings into his backpack and rushed out of the classroom, hugging his best friend goodbye. He didn't bother listening to the jeering that followed him out of the room, and made possibly the quickest locker stop in high school history, before walking out onto the parking lot, looking around impatiently for some type of overpriced sports car. He finally spotted a figure sporting sunglasses and a familiar goatee in the far back of the lot, leaning up against a sleek, matte black car. He started rushing over, but was taken over by a laughing Harley, who had his arm casually around Flash's shoulders. Peter faltered in his steps, wondering what would happen if he would stay back and let Harley see Mr. Stark first.
Speaking of Mr. Stark, he seemed to have finally noticed Peter. He took off his sunglasses and waved his arm in a signalling motion, whilst grinning lazily in his direction. "Hurry up, Harley!"
Oh…
At that, Peter turned around sharply and instead made his way to the closest subway station, ignoring his own hitching breaths.
A/N: Yeah, Pete is a lil dramatic boy. Find me on tumblr at keenerparkerstark!
