"Is everything alright?" May asked.
"Oh," Ann said nonchalantly, "that's just Kim's hobby. She'll be fine, I hope."
The rest of Kim's family continued eating, so Peter and May followed. The rest of the night was filled with small talk but the Parkers generally left a good impression. Peter and May walked to the door. "It was nice meeting all of you," May said.
"It was nice meeting you too!" Doctor Possible said, briskly walking out of the house. "Don't worry, Peter; we'll get your Aunt situated at my wife's clinic. She'll take care of everything she needs."
"Thank you, doctor and doctor," Peter said.
"That's professor, to you," Ann said with a smirk. "I'll see you in Chemistry 4A next Monday at 8AM."
Peter suddenly felt sweaty and nervous all over again. He couldn't get anything wrong now. "Doctor and professor-"
"Actually," Doctor Possible said, "I'm teaching your engineering class at nine. Don't be late."
"Have a good night now," May said, closing the door and looking up at Peter. "You're going to make so many people proud."
"We'll find out in a couple days," Peter chuckled nervously, helping May to their house.
Six days passed with little to no event other than the occasional visit from Doctor Possible, whose name they found out was James, and the twins to help May. The phone call Peter heard at the dinner table those nights ago still bothered him and after that night he started receiving his on calls from his own organization, which he never picked up. On the seventh day, sunday morning, Peter awoke and threw on a very quick outfit: a green and gold tee shirt with "M.I.S.T" on it under a light blue jacket and jeans with blue and white sneakers. He grabbed his small suitcase and a box labeled "For Peter Only" from his closet and went downstairs, kissing May goodbye.
"I'll be back when our shipment comes in," Peter said.
"Alright. I'll be here," May said, waving him off.
Peter caught the bus to the MiTrain station, a small, subway-like station with hundreds of people moving in and out of timed trains. Peter almost missed his train but made it to the large campus sitting right in the middle of downtown Middleton. It reminded him of the parks in New York, except it was warmer and there were no homeless people using the garbage cans as their bathrooms. He walked across a large glade where ultimate frisbee was dominating the hot and sunny day to the south end of campus to a complex of four tall and skinny residential halls. A tall, lanky young man with long, blonde hair and baggy clothing walked into a building labeled "Welcome to Ida Sproul! Go Chargers!" on it and entered the elevator with his suitcase and two bags. Peter made eye contact with the boy. "Hold the elevator!" he exclaimed. He darted forward, dodging several families across the tile floor to make it. Peter barely slid in with his suitcase and box as the door closed.
"Good save, dude," the blonde boy said with a thick surfer's accent, staring at the back of Peter's head, "couldn't have done it better myself."
"Thanks," Peter said quickly, adjusting his glasses and keeping a sharp look on the elevator counter. He watched as family after family cleared out of the elevator until it hit the seventh floor. He briskly walked out and down the hall, hearing the surfer dude's footsteps behind him. He found the tall door labeled "712" and pulled a set of keys from his pocket.
"Yo, dude!" the surfer guy exclaimed, punching Peter's shoulder. "I think we're roommates, bro!"
"Oh boy," Peter said under his breath, opening the door. The room was small but had all the things they needed; a bunk bed, two dressers, a mirror, a twin desk and a wide window that allowed them to see all of Metroville.
Peter turned around and saw the white surfer kid with a mellow grin on a blank expression. It was a few seconds before the boy said anything. "Hey; name's Gil Lavert but friends from back home call me "Jaws"; from Long Beach; majoring in econ and chemE. You?"
Peter chuckled a little bit. He had never heard that accent where he was from, and in a sea of uptight students, Gil seemed to be the most relaxed. He was a tad relieved. "I'm Peter Parker and I'm originally from New York. I'm majoring in biochemistry and planning on doubling in biomedical engineering."
Gil laughed. "Yo, that's hella intense! That's 8AM's five days a week and I heard our first engineering class is a killer."
The roommates quickly unpacked. "I don't understand how you can manage majoring in econ," Peter said with a chuckle. "That's several levels above my attention span."
"Just don't let me borrow a dollar after tomorrow morning, bro," Gil said. "I'm basically done. You might wanna hurry so we can catch the commencement on time."
"I'll meet you there," Peter said, staring at his secret box with intent.
"You sure?"
"Yeah; I'll catch up," Peter said.
"Catch you later then," Gil said, closing the door.
Peter put his ear to the door to make sure Gil had left. He nodded to himself and darted over to the box. He quickly opened it and took out the contents: a red and blue web-themed jumpsuit with a long, sleek and shiny black spider logo on the chest and a fat, red, blocky spider on the back. The boots and gloves were both red with metallic white web designs and his mask was very bug like, smooth with no mouth or nose hole and two large, white, ovular eye guards. He hid the ensemble where he thought no one from California would dare to look: under his winter outfits in the back of his bottom drawer. He smirked at his own humor and left the room, quickly closing it behind him. He took the stairs and quickly caught up to Gil and a group of blonde surfer boys that looked basically like him. "Hey, Gil," Peter said.
Gil turned toward Peter. "Well that was quick," Gil said, letting out a laugh that all of his friends emulated. "Lemme introduce you to the bros, bro." He started pointing to his friends. "That's Bill, that's Dill, we call him Jill, we call him Lil', he's Mill, originally Miles, he's Phil, Quinn's a songwriter so we call him Quill, and there's Will."
Peter noticed he left out the blonde on the other side of their little walking party. "What about him?" he asked Gil.
"Oh yeah," Gil chuckled, "that's Ralph."
Peter shook hands with everyone, taking a couple seconds to analyze Ralph to find differences with the others. It was just the name. "I'm Peter. I'm from New York."
"Dude!" Will said.
"Bro," Phil said.
"Gnarly," Another -il said, making Peter realize that Californian surfers may not be his crowd. Peter vanished among the crowd, trying to find anyone who looked familiar. Either Kim was already there or she had quite a bit of walking to do.
He walked across the glade again and crossed the block, immediately entering the urban jungle of a kind he was used to with a flood of other students. He peaked over the head of a line of girls and saw the flowing red locks. He squirreled his way through the girls and stood next to Ron. They both wore school related outfits with Kim still wearing a top that exposed her midriff. Ron looked up at Peter, realizing how much taller Peter was. The guy stood at roughly six feet. "Hey guys," Peter said, catching Kim's attention too. "How's the weather up there?" Ron asked, half chuckling to himself. "Can you still hear me?"
"It's kinda hard to breathe," Peter said, diffusing Ron's setup, "but overall okay. Are you guys excited?"
"Totally!" Kim exclaimed. "Apparently, Peyton Manning is giving a commencement speech. The rest of the cheerleading squad from back home will be so jealous."
"You were a cheerleader?" Peter asked.
"You watch football?" Ron asked.
"I was the on and off captain," Kim said with a hint of pride that turned into disgust. "On and off with-"
Peter felt a hard push to the side. He bumped into a group of shorter boys and apologized to them before looking at the rude person. She was curvy and athletic with tanned skin, wavy brown hair that reached her middle back, and teal eyes with pouty lips. She wore a M.I.S.T tank top and jeans that hugged her body tightly. "Look who it is," she said to Kim in a taunting manner. "The hero of Middleton herself graces us with her presence? Give me a break," she said, fake sticking her finger in her mouth and gagging.
"Bonnie Rockwaller," Kim said through gritted teeth. "What are you doing here?"
"I got into the biokinetics program," Bonnie said haughtily. "You weren't the only popular girl who could keep a high GPA and SAT scores, and your popularity was only due to the fact that you're Kim Possible."
"What is that supposed to mean?" Peter said, "and excuse you, by the way."
"Don't you know?" Bonnie said, looking at the New Yorker with such a jealousy that Peter could feel it. "This Mary Sue over here plays vigilante on her offtime, working with the Global Justice Network to stop stupid crimes. Where are you from that you wouldn't know that?"
"I'm from New York," Peter said, looking past Bonnie at Kim with a newfound level of curiosity. He looked back at Bonnie. "Heroes are the norm there, so cut me some slack, alright?"
"Bonnie, do you have anything constructive to say or are you just going to stand there looking disgusted?" Ron asked, with Rufus trying to imitate a Z-snap on Ron's shoulder.
"Maybe you can double major in doing that?" Kim suggested.
"Your comebacks are about as hot as you are," Bonnie smirked, "which is why you've never had a real boyfriend."
Kim heard a group of boys chuckle behind her before moving past them all. "I really do not like that person," she said, balling up her fists.
"She only made it her problem to come up to you because she was jealous of something," Peter said, feeling Bonnie's ego still radiating throughout the crowds, "and frankly you have a lot for someone to be jealous of."
Kim stared at the side of Peter's head for a brief moment before turning back and blushing. Ron rolled his eyes. "Generic, please," he muttered under his breath.
The students walked until they were filed into a large, outside concert hall styled like the Coliseum with a shell shaped stage in the center. Four chairs and a podium were occupied, one with a very important football player who was getting ready to speak. Within minutes, thousands of students had been seated under the hot sun, awaiting the speakers' words so they could resume their day. Kim, Ron, and Peter found seats near the front and sat down.
Peyton, the mountainous Denver Bronco, tapped the mic. "Students!" he shouted, silencing the masses. "Welcome to the best times of your life at Middleton Institute of Science and Technology! You and I share two things in common: we are both the best and the brightest! I might be a football player and you scientists and doctors, but people like us make others want to be like us, and who else is as good as being us as us?" He received a wide applause and the football player continued spouting inspirational speeches for the next twelve minutes before the school chancellor formally welcomed them to the school.
Kim's phone-pager beeped once again and she had on it yesterday. "Ron," she said, "this day just got a whole lot more interesting." She and Ron stood up, leaving Peter in the dark.
"What is it this time?" Ron asked, his rodent companion perched on his shoulder. "Rufus didn't bring his gear!"
"Wait for it," Kim said, feeling the slightest tremor in the ground. "Get to the top rows!" she shouted as the ground suddenly tremored terribly. The speakers fell over in their chairs and the ground beneath them split, tearing the stage in half. The students screamed and started moving toward the exits. Kim and Ron watched five pale, muscular men with black eyes and sharp teeth along with jagged, stone swords hop from the tear in the ground. The neighbourly duo ran headfirst toward the men who took the five speakers as their hostages with blades to their necks. "Hey, ground geeks!" Kim barked, flipping from the third row to the ground of the stadium. Ron turned to Peter with another sly grin, but Peter was gone. "Could you find it in your pale, Vitamin D lacking hearts to release them?" Kim asked, "Don't make me beat the melanin into your skin on my first day of college."
The largest one holding Peyton grinned with black lips and terribly inflamed gums holding yellow and brown teeth. "We are the mole men," he said with a deep and shrill voice. "You will listen to our demands, or your hoo-mans will die."
Kim fell into a martial artist stance, bending her knees with her dominant arm at her side to bring about powerful punches. "I'm not going to ask you again. Let them go or life will become very difficult for you. I'll ask why you're here and who you're working for later."
The mole men laughed, making a similar cackle to hyenas that sent a chill up Ron's spine. "That's not normal; do you need a cough drop?" he asked.
"You take us?" the leader asked. "You are stranger than the others. You attack first and ask questions later. Drop the hostages. We'll just kill these two-"
Peyton flipped a mole man over his shoulder and slammed him to the ground. The other four mole men charged him, allowing the chancellor and other speakers to back away. Kim and Ron dashed toward the mole men, slipping in between them to back up the football player. Kim ducked a sword slash and shot forward with a punch to the sternum. She whipped around, kicking a second goon in his temple while punching the leader in the stomach. She fought with a very strict and strong style, executing fast strikes with deadly accuracy that appeared to be a mixed martial art. Ron fought the other two with more fluid and sloppy strikes, dodging and falling more than anything else. It looked like a fusion of drunken master style and boxing. "Go Rufus!" Ron exclaimed, watching the mole rat leap onto one's face.
Ron let out a TV-show battle cry and clashed with his own mole man. His eyes widened as his fists did nothing to the pale abdomen and he was tossed aside with a hard slap. Ron quickly rose to his feet and lunged forward, accidentally sliding under the monster's legs and delivering a backward heel kick to the groin. The mole ran roared in pain and whipped around with his sword above his head. Ron looked up and gasped. "Kim!"
Kim glanced over, seeing his friend about to get skewered. "Ron!" she exclaimed, leaping from her circle of three and kicking the sword out of his hands. She rolled and picked up the sword for herself, swiftly darting toward the leader with the blade's handle in her shoulder.
Ron sat up and took his rat straight to the face. "Ouch," he said slowly, followed by rapid chittering from his rodent pal. Rufus latched itself back to the mole man he was fighting, so Ron couldn't just sit there. "Right," he said, rolling out of the way of a downward slash and hopping to his feet, backpedaling and dodging swipes. Ron kicked him in the groin again and landed a solid punch in his jaw.
The mole man stumbled back and wiped the trickle of black blood that dripped from his chin. He grimaced at Ron before throwing a punch in his face, knocking him out. The goon met with his friend dealing with Rufus and tossed it off him, angrily walking over to Kim. Her three opponents were bloodied and bruised but looked like they were still fresh. Kim looked like she hadn't been hit. She still wielded the stone sword and continued blocking slashes and hacks from three angles, adding another two angles effortlessly. She ducked and spun around in a full circle, sweeping them off their feet with the flat end of the blade. She flipped out of the circle and landed next to Ron. She grimaced at him sprawled out on the ground with a black and blue bruise on his cheek. Rufus sat on his neck, trying to slap him awake.
"Now you see how powerful we are?" the leader asked, hopping to his feet with the three others who could. "Maybe now you'll reconsider our demands, lest you wish to die!"
"I was going to try to talk it out," Kim said, "but you already had your weapons drawn."
"Be quiet, stupid hoo-man," the leader snapped. "Our conditions are as such: you will take us to your leader, Ahmericah, or her husband, Sahm, so we may take the key to the United States and reclaim the west in the name of the undergroundlings!"
Kim fell back into stance with the sword and glanced toward Ron, finding him gone as well. "What the-"
A loud, cocky laugh could be heard from the top of the shell covering the back area of the stage. "The key to the United States? Sam the stay at home husband? Come on, Kim, at least pick a better rep for your rouge's gallery."
Kim turned around and at the top of the shell stood a tall, muscular man wearing a red and blue spandex themed suit and mask with a large, sleek black spider in the center of his chest. His eyes on his mask were very buggish and white, and there was a weblike grid that covered the entire costume. Ron was over his shoulder with Rufus perched on his head. Peyton stood next to the strange man with a look of sheer shock etched on his face. "Hey," the mystery man said, "I guess it's time to introduce myself."
