A/N: i want my teenage rom com movie between kamala khan and robbie reyes and i will write this my damn self if i have to
Of all the many wonderful applications for Kamala's powers, the ability to just shapeshift her nails instead of painting them had to be the best. No more anxious waiting and air-drying, no more streaks of color across all her clothes, just the simple satisfaction of watching her nails shift and change color.
She sighed and looked around the empty house. There was a time when she never would have found herself missing the loud arguments, the calls for "Kamala, dinner!" or the smell of chai and turmeric. How things have changed.
Her computer beeped loudly with the specific tone she had set for Tony Stark, prompting her to get up from the couch and navigate her way past the still unopened boxes that populated the "living room". Resting on the edge of the beat up thing she called her dinner table, was the computer she was using to communicate with the Avengers.
TONY STARK:
First day of school. Don't be late.
Wow. Thanks, Tony.
Kamala stretched, then clicked through the rest of her messages.
CAROL DANVERS:
Make me proud, kiddo.
LOGAN:
You still owe me a gyro.
STEVE ROGERS:
You're going to do fine. I'll email you again on Monday, but it's perfectly okay if you don't have anything to report. Missions take a while. One took me about fifty years ;-P
AMMA
I'll miss you so much while you're away, sweetie. Ask that patriotic captain of yours when the soonest you can be back is!
Kamala blinked back a few sudden, stubborn tears and swallowed a bit at the sudden scratchy heat in her throat. When she was told that she'd have to move halfway across the country for a mission, she hadn't really realized just how much of an emotional toll that would have been. But now, faced with this empty house she'd have to live in for god knows how long, she kind of wanted to take it all back. She had really thought she was ready to take on undercover assignments, and she had wanted to make Tony proud. When Iron Man nominates you for a mission, one does not simply turn it down. And she'd really thought she was ready.
Turns out it was a lot harder than the superheroes make it seem. At least she didn't have to fake her death.
On her way to school, she fished the last of her cinnamon gum out. She had bought it impulsively at the Circle Q Bruno worked at, one last slice of home. She wasn't going to see that corner store again for a long while, and she wasn't going to smell that convenience store smell, or hear trashy pop music while sitting with friends or-
On one level, Kamala recognized how ridiculous it was that she was getting nostalgic over gum. The other levels were stuck somewhere between wailing for Nakia and desperately attempting not to cry.
Hillrock Heights High, despite it's amazingly alliterative appellation, was a rather normal school. There was so much graffiti that you could tell the janitors had just given up and there were stains of long-dead gum dotting the ground. The buildings themselves were closed campus, squat and square, with lots of window and lockers.
It wasn't too different from Jersey, honestly. If it weren't for the empty house she was living in, and the complete lack of friends, and her new kid status.
So, quite a bit different from Jersey.
The halls were swarming with people, speaking and conversing over each other. There was an arrhythmic squeak and slam of lockers, coupled with the distinct roll and smack of skateboards. High and low and English and Spanish and husky and smooth and sweet voices made up the buzz of noise in the crowd Kamala plunged herself into.
She hiked up her backpack and tried to force her way through. There wasn't quite a current of students, more of a mosh pit of bodies, fighting to go their own way. In the confusion, she stuck to the walls and counted off each sign.
"English, Room A-17, Wakeford," she repeated to herself, over and over again. Just in case she forgot. The rooms were numbered weird, but she was pretty sure it was just down the… There it was!
The door was open, and if it was possible at all, it was even more cacophonous inside. Drawing her hoodie tighter around herself, she carefully stepped in and grabbed the desk nearest to the door. Hopefully nobody sat there.
A couple crumpled paper wads bounced off her desk, and she retreated a little further into her seat. She didn't want to look behind her, but she was certain that there were people staring.
Why couldn't they have waited until August to start her assignment? The new kid in March attracted so much more attention.
"Class," The teacher stood up from his desk, and pitifully attempted to quiet them down. "Plea- Please don't throw things," he compromised, sitting back down hurriedly.
Kamala was so engrossed in trying her absolute hardest not to touch anything underneath the desk (,because ew,) that she barely registered the guy standing over her.
"Oh! Uh, hi? Can I... help you?" She asked, internally screaming.
"You're in my seat."
"Shit!" She quickly got out, gathering up her things. "Uh, where's the nearest empty se-"
He pointed to the desk next to his. She got down, closed her eyes, and took a very deep breath.
Relax. You got this. The sooner you finish, the sooner you can go back home.
She opened her eyes, then turned to study the guy next to her. He was quiet and efficient, putting his bag down beside his chair and simply staring straight forward. It was creepily robotic, and she would know. Was he a robot? It wouldn't be the weirdest thing she'd seen in a high school. He was latino, with a blonde streak in his hair. Thick brows, and, strange enough, heterochromia. She immediately began focusing more. Weird eyes, in her experience, were never a coincidence. One was a normal green, and the other was… was that orange? Red? It didn't look natural, whatever it was.
He kind of fit the profile, too. About six feet, thin, not very talkative.
If she wanted to go home, she had better find out who the new Ghost Rider is, and fast. And this guy had just became Kamala's prime suspect.
A/N: tumblr: dreampunk
I always welcome asks and prompts there!