"What's the point of growing up
if you can't be childish sometimes?"
-The Doctor
Abigail
It has been three weeks and I had yet to hear anything from Stark Industries.
I was going beside myself with anxiety. What if they found a better candidate? That was beyond impossible right? What other seventeen year old genius is there? Okay, that sounded a bit conceded. There are other very important factors to consider. For example, maturity (though may not be that important seeing that Tony Stark was the CEO), there was also the controversy in hiring someone so young, but it was an internship so. Okay, let's face it I was beyond qualified for the position. I might as well been Tony Stark himself considering I saw only myself fit. However, being a little confident in yourself is such a bad thing, right? Ugh! No. I really needed to stop.
I needed something to occupy my mind, because sitting around waiting for a stupid phone call, letter, text, heck they could even send a messenger bird through the window, wasn't doing any good for me.
I needed some fresh air. I had been cooped up inside for pretty much the duration of the time between meeting Coulson, and now. I was beginning to feel like a dirty old Hermit, who only left the house when the promise of food was involved. Which was the only reason I left the apartment at the moment, but that was only when delivery wasn't an option. In my defense, the promise that as soon as I stepped out that door I was going to be hunted down, by a bunch of burly dudes, was good enough an excuse to hide away from the outside for the rest of my life, or at least until whoever was tracking me down was no longer interested. Which ever one came first. At least that was until I had had my 15th container of slightly over cooked, re-fried rice. Who knew getting tired of Chinese take out was actually possible? I sure didn't.
So, the first thing that came to mind when I woke up from my 3rd nap that day was, 'I need to get out of here.' Which is exactly what I did, after taking a five minute shower (not including my little performance, using my shampoo bottle as a makeshift microphone), trying to do my hair in some fancy twist trash (which just ended up being a head full of knots and a messy, frizzed out bun), then downing some orange chicken, and changing my outfit over and over (ten times to be exact).
Once that was done I was ready to show myself to the world once more. There was no plan. Maybe wander around Central park for a bit. I hadn't taken a walk there in some time. It had been a good month if I recalled correctly. I shoved my hands in the pockets and hit the sidewalk.
The park was a peaceful place. Children scattered around the playground, but there were very few people on the trails. Being early April it was cool outside. I took a deep breath of the fresh air and began down my favorite bike trail.
The sun set long ago and I had just walked through the door of my apartment. I was shuffling through the mail. The local mailman ran on his own schedule. Delivering anytime of the day he felt like, or not coming at all. Which explained why it was nearly nine in the evening and me along with my fellow neighbors were just rummaging through their mail slots. I sighed as I went through the monthly bills among other things. My heart dropped as I neared the end of the stack. I knew better than to get my hopes up. It was reasonable to believe that if Stark Industries hadn't contacted me after this long, than they probably found a better candidate. Though, it was unlikely whoever they chose could have a better record than me. Academically speaking of course. Experience wise, I only recalled the few times my father let me sit in his labs while he worked. He took time to teach me things here and there and maybe let me work on something. I shuddered as I recalled those memories, not all of them were pleasant.
There it was. The last envelope in the stack. I turned it over and huffed. It was some letter for my neighbor. I tossed the mail on my table then rummaged through my fridge to find something to eat. While sitting on the counter contently watching the food heat in the microwave, I heard a light knocking on my door. I ignored it at first, but the whoever was at the door was persistent. I sighed and jumped off my counter top.
"Umm hi." I head lowered to see a young boy standing in my doorway. I eased up on my grip of the door handle. When I opened the door I wasn't sure what to expect, but the young boy was barely a threat. Maybe a bit annoying, but not threatening. I recognized him. He lived in the apartment across from me with who I believed to be his grandmother. On a few occasions, we had rode the lift up together. He was the quite type. Maybe around twelve?
"Hey." I leaned against the door frame in a nonchalant way. I gave him a small smile and watched him cower in return. I never thought myself the intimidating type. Maybe it was just his shy demeanor.
"Uh, my Nana sent me up here to give you this." His arm shut out with a letter in hand. I looked down and gently took it from him. "She said the mail man accidentally stuck it in our mail box."
"Um, thanks." I recalled the envelope that the mail man had put in my mailbox. "Hold on a second kid." I retreated back into my apartment and retrieved the wrongly delivered piece of mail that was thrown on my kitchen counter. "Here." I handed it to him. He observed and looked back up at me.
"Thanks?" I turned my attention his apartment as a elderly woman appeared in the doorway.
"Scotty it doesn't take that long to deliver a piece of mail." The woman snapped as she stepped out from the doorway a bit. The boy muttered a goodbye and then retreated back into the apartment. His grandmother gave me a once over before closing the door.
'Well then.' I thought as I closed my own door and locked it.
I froze when I saw who the letter came from, Stark Industries. I held my breath as I opened the envelope like it was the most fragile thing in the world.
Dear Miss Hienfield,
After much thought and consideration, you have been chosen for our internship program.
I didn't bother to read the rest. A huge smile spread across my face. I had gotten in.
Tony
Tony climbed up the stairs that led into his private jet with Pepper hot on his trail. He turned and watched her scurry up the stairs after him. Her heels caused her to trip a few a times. He chuckled, but quickly stopped when she scolded him. He cleared his throat and took a seat near the window.
"Mr. Stark, would you like a drink?" The flight attendant was by his side in an instant. Tony eyed the woman before putting on his signature smirk.
"Of course."
"No." Pepper interrupted as she took her preferred seat away from the window. She set her stuff down on the table sitting in front of her and looked over a Tony. "I'd prefer if you were sober while we talked business, Mr. Stark."
"Pepper, we haven't even taken off yet and you've already broken my 'no business' rule." He turned back to the attendant. "Surprise me, on the rocks."
"You promised to get some work done during the flight."
"Yea, and I also promised to give a speech at the World Trade Fair, but we both know that's not gonna happen."
"Mr. Stark-"
"Listen, this trip is supposed to be stress free and scheduling meetings and crunching numbers, doesn't exactly fit into that category."
"Mr. Stark, believe it or not, but there's more to life than just having a blast."
"Cara, you're a angel." He remarked as the flight attendant set his drink down. "But, I asked for two."
"I apologize. I'll-"
"No, it's fine. I guess I'll just have to share mine with you." He cheered no one in particular and then took a long drink. Pepper huffed and pulled out her phone, which had beeped. "But get Pepper one, will you?" He winked.
"Of course." The flight attendant giggled before retreating to the back.
"Her name's not Cara." Pepper deadpanned without looking up.
Tony sighed exasperatedly and slouched in his chair. This was going to be a long flight.
A/N: This is a short chapter, but I'll be posting another one soon. So, keep an eye out.
What did you think? Let me know by reviewing...Lillyxxx