It was a surprisingly pleasant day for fall in New Jersey. Smoggy, with just a hint of a stinging breeze like the swat of a whip which Peter knew from personal experience only stung more the closer you were to the sky.

Luckily, those were both things the city's inhabitants either grew to tolerate or add to an ever-growing laundry list of reasons why they should move out as soon as possible. Other frequent sights on the list included traffic, the early going-to-work subway crowd, the after-work subway crowd, and property damage.

Peter gazed longingly out of smudged hotel lobby windows with his head in his hands.

He considered how he could have been swinging hundreds of feet in the air and enjoying the crisp fall breeze; as well as calling out to excitedly waving children that so frequently stopped to shout in joy at seeing him.

Instead, he was camped out in the hallway of a three star hotel on the outskirts of Cape May, New Jersey. Meanwhile, his decathlon club adviser had been stuck arguing with half of the hotel's staff for over an hour and counting.

Peter felt his eyes droop closed and hurriedly opened them. He shook his head to clear his brain and squinted tiredly as Ned moved to offer him a french fry.

The clouds outside of the window, which had been a fluffy, vanilla ice cream shade of white about forty five minutes ago, were now the grey shade of Peter's gym socks.

The familiar click-clack of steel-toed combat boots jarred Peter out of his sleepy daydreams. MJ had finally returned from her position at the front desk, where she had been observing the battle taking place between Mr. Harrington and the hotel staff.

At some point, Mr. Harrington had seemed to have gained some traction, but Peter stopped paying attention when management got involved in the first place. Even now, he could hear some restrained whisper-shouting from the desk.

He lifted his head from the cradle of his arms and looked toward MJ from the table where he and Ned had been lounging.

"Hey, MJ. Any change?" Peter asked halfheartedly, his sleepiness from being forced to wake up at five am for the long, bumpy bus ride apparent.

MJ's visibly annoyed gait and clenched fists told Peter everything he needed to know. She leaned against her suitcase before thumping down violently on an empty seat between Ned and Peter. MJ threw Ned's sweatshirt, which had previously occupied the seat, into News lap.

"None," She growled. "They're still insisting we don't have a reservation here. Which is, frankly, bullshit because I was the one who confirmed it three months ago."

MJ thumbed violently through a well-worn copy of something or another by Tolstoy. She hissed at the newly opened paper cut on her thumb. Ned passed her a french fry and she reached out to steal a frustrated sip of his milkshake, instead. Ned leaned back on his suitcase in exasperation and redirected the french fry towards his mouth.

"Do you have a copy of the receipt or some kind of confirmation?" Ned asked in concern. Though he and Cindy had been lazily arguing about video game pseudo-physics for the past fifteen minutes, even he was getting tired of the situation they were stuck in.

"I do! I have it on my email and I even showed them the screenshots I took of it! They just aren't budging," MJ continued, "Every hotel in the area has been booked out for months, too. Even if we shared with three people to a room, there wouldn't be enough available rooms. I've checked the area within fifty miles of us just in case, and there's going to be a parade here soon, so there's no vacancies."

MJ growled and snapped the book shut. Peter could hear Mr. Harrington's argument with the managers of the hotel escalating. He continued listening as Ned and MJ debated the merits of going to call an even higher level of management.

Peter strained his ears a little harder to hear the restless conversations between the other decathlon members, who were scattered along the waiting area. One of the perks he'd discovered a long time ago, which came with the development of his powers, was superior hearing.

Overall though, boredom had long manifested itself among everyone present. Even, to Peter's great surprise, Flash, who sounded like he was aimlessly getting into an argument with Abe over the migration patterns of pigeons.

Peter looked around him. At least here, nobody was eyeing him strangely. After Tony Stark's sudden appearance at his school, the rumor mill had seemed to explode ten-fold as students and staff tried to sleuth their way into figuring out the reason behind why Tony Stark had visited Midtown. After that reason had been revealed to be Peter Parker, it still left more questions than answers.

The rumors cropped up like weeds, each growing more ridiculous and unbelievable with every run around the school, like some strange, inverted game of Telephone. A few particularly brave people even sought Peter out and approached him with their questions, which Peter didn't have any idea how to react to. Luckily, MJ had been able to distract them with a few brusque words.

If this was what fame felt like, peter was glad he never became an Avenger, and he was only more determined now not to let anybody else find out about his other secret identity as Spider-Man.

Peter was just glad that, after numerous interrogations by his teammates and friends, and the extraction of a promise from Mr. Stark never to come to his school again, he was just about done with the whole few weeks of whispers in the halls and starstruck eyes glancing speculatively at him made him incredibly uncomfortable and nervous to mention anything relating to his other persona.

"Alright, everyone! Let's move out! I've got news for you all." Mr. Harrison shouted from his position looming over the main desk. He made his way over toward the lobby area where the group of teenagers had gathered.

Peter was willing to bet Ned's lego Death Star that he had to physically unstick his shoes from the floor before moving.

"Finally! C'mon, dude, let's go." Ned urged. MJ was already several steps ahead of them and Peter allowed himself a moment of hope. Things were looking up.

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Peter shuffled up the stairs and back into the god-awful yellow school bus that had brought him here. He nearly tripped over Flash's foot, and with Flash's laughter bouncing around in one ear, he sat down heavily in front of Ned.

"I can't believe we have to go back home after all of that," Ned sighed in his ear. "But at least we get something out of this in the end! Europe, dude! That's so cool!"

After calling everyone over, Mr. Harrington made an unexpected announcement that left everyone surprised. He had contacted the officials behind the national competition and apparently, there had been a change of plans.

A change of board leadership and the major overhaul that came with the expansion of the academic decathlon into Europe meant the latest competition was set to be held in London, not New Jersey.

The announcement had been followed by dead silence and Mr. Harrington explained how the fast-paced changes meant a few schools had missed the message.

He followed up the explanation by assuring everyone that the trip wasn't going to cost them any more than what they had already paid to go to New Jersey, as this was a government-funded test run and an example of the USAD's positive influence on learning for students.

Ned gave Peter and excited, goofy grin and whispered, "Didn't you go to Europe that one time? You know, for your superhero thing?"

Peter's eyes widened in alarm and he whipped his hear around swiftly, looking at the other decathlon members. Luckily, Peter and Ned had situated themselves closer to the front of the bus, whereas mostly everyone else was sitting near the back. Mr. Harrington was still guiding a few stragglers inside, and the bus driver was loading their suitcases into a compartment near the wheels.

"Ned! Don't say it where everyone can hear you!" Peter pleaded.

"But, uh, yeah. It was Germany," he confided. "Only for a few days though and I was kinda busy at the time. Now, we'll have a whole week to explore."

The bus drops closed with a hiss and Peter considered his options.

A whole week in London. A week with minimal homework, because most of his teachers understood that spring break was a sacred and any homework was unlikely to get done until the night before it was due, and hanging out and exploring with his friends. Peter wouldn't have to worry about pop quizzes or accidentally falling asleep in physics.

But, could he really leave New York just like that? Without Spider-Man?

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author's note: This chapter has been revised as of 05/26/18. Beware!