A/N: In which this is a blurb I've been sitting on and I just think it has to come out...
It wasn't the kind of day Peter imagined himself having — it was too early too. He leaned back in his chair, head resting against the cold wall. He could hear the muffled conversation on the other side. The principal was having quite the day as well. Peter couldn't imagine Flash not spinning the story around to fit his needs. No matter. Peter didn't regret a single thing. He would take the punishment and—
The sound of frenzied footsteps cut into his thoughts and before Peter knew it, he was no longer sitting alone. Another student had come along, plopping down with a 'hmph!' in the chair beside him.
It was a girl, and she couldn't look any more furious than she already was. Peter recognized her almost immediately. They shared a couple classes, one of them Spanish where she absolutely excelled. Everyone thought it was a complete cheat since she actually spoke Spanish. It was an easy A. She was always nice, simply another average student in school and yet right now it looked like she could murder…
"Are you alright?" Peter had to ask after she 'hmph'd' again. He couldn't think of another moment where she'd been this kind of angry.
It seemed like his question had finally clued her in that she was not alone. Her big dark eyes widened and blinked a few times at him.
"Sorry," she apologized immediately. Her hands came up to push her long dark, curly hair behind her ears.
Peter half smiled at her, frankly bemused with her entire demeanor. "You okay?"
"Uh, no, not really," she said, pursing her lips.
"What's wr — oh my God, are you okay?" Peter had straightened up immediately when he saw a blotch of dried blood on her shoulder.
"What?" She followed his gaze to her shoulder. "Oh," she waved him off, "That's the other girl's."
Peter blinked at her.
"Rachel's."
"...as in Rachel Larkin?"
She nodded. "Head of the cheerleader squad and I still clocked her."
Peter was stunned. "Maribel, what happened?"
Maribel was average indeed, nothing to indicate that she would ever get into a fight with someone. It was practically unheard of. However, instead of Maribel answering the question, she stopped altogether.
"You know my name?" She turned in her seat, a great big smile spreading across her face.
"Yes, I do, everyone does. Why?"
Maribel swayed her head, her nose scrunching. "Not everyone. Rachel always refuses to acknowledge my name."
"Huh? What do you mean?"
Maribel sighed, her head still swaying. She was a bit of an exaggerator with her movements. "Rachel — she's completely rude and I finally snapped, okay? She refuses to call me by my name. She always mispronounces it on purpose."
"Your name isn't that hard to pro…" Peter trailed off as Maribel's expression finally donned on him. "Oh." There'd been some moments in their classes when Rachel Larkin, a popular girl, would call out Maribel to answer a question and, yes, she did mispronounce Maribel's name.
"Yes," Maribel nodded, "It's common courtesy to at least try and pronounce someone's name the right way."
"What-what did she call you?"
"It's what she always calls me!" Maribel exclaimed, shifting back to sit properly. Her gaze lowered slightly, her eyebrows knitting together as she thought of the long list of incorrect names Rachel called her. "My name is not Mary-bel," she said absolutely sarcastically that it was a little hard for Peter not to laugh, "It's not Mar-bel. It's definitely not Mary-gold! It's Mari-bel!" She pronounced her name in her natural Spanish tongue. "'Mari' with a short 'a' sound! It's a frikin elementary concept, it's not that hard! The French club says my name better!" She was practically out of breath by the time she finished, and for that Peter was still smiling, almost laughing.
"I'm sorry that happened to you," he said once he felt capable of doing it without offending her. "I would be irritated if someone did that to me all the time."
Maribel glanced at him, eyes lingering on the very noticeable bruise forming on his temple. "You have your own problems, Peter."
Following her eyes, Peter brought a hand up to that very bruise. "I know — hey," he paused, looking at her curiously, "You know my name too."
For the first time since they talked, Maribel smiled. It was tiny and for the briefest moment, but she did it. "Course I do. You take really good pictures. Um, you snapped a couple for my friend last week. Farah?"
"Oh, oh right, yeah," Peter nodded. Farah Winstin had politely asked him if he could snap a few pictures of her for an assignment of hers. "She's nice."
"Yeah," Maribel agreed. She looked down at her fingers, fiddling with them. "Um, listen, if you have time — and if we're both not suspended —" they shared a mutual laugh, "—do you think you could lend some of that talent to the Spanish club next week? We have, um, we have this really big fundraiser that we've been planning and we could use some advertisements with pictures."
"Uh, yeah, totally," nodded Peter, eyeing her curiously.
Maribel flushed when she noticed his long stare. "What?"
"You just don't look like somebody who would clock a person."
Maribel laughed. It sounded nice to Peter. "I have cousins. Lots of cousins. I learned a thing or two. She won't be needing your services for a long time," she said with a proud smirk.
"I'll remember to stay on your good side," Peter said, chuckling.
Maribel smiled. At the same time, the door beside them opened and out came none other than Flash.
"Your turn, Parker," he sneered and took off.
Maribel watched after the guy and let out a hum. "He probably deserved what you did to him." Her words had come out so naturally, so swiftly, that Peter did a double take at her. She glanced at him, smiling again. "I'm sure there's a couple freshman here and there thanking you."
"Mr. Parker?" They heard the call from the room.
"That's me," Parker pushed himself up from his seat and walked over to the door. "I'll see you around Maybel — sorry," he flashed Maribel a smile, "Maribel."
She chuckled. This time the mispronunciation of her name wasn't as bothersome as it typically was.
"Maribel…?"
"Jenavid," she helped him out, "Maribel Jenavid."
"Peter Parker."
"Yeah, I know," Maribel said, smiling, "Nice to meet you. Good luck in there."
"You too," Peter said, reaching for the doorknob. "I'll try and leave him in a good mood for you." As he walked in, he heard Maribel's soft, quiet laugh.
Yeah, he liked that sound.
A/N:
As always, I have a tumblr account dedicated to my fanfic works! It's a place where anyone can comment about a story or even just talk to me! I often drop aesthetic work belonging to my stories too! Feel free to check it out, my URL is "saiilorstars"