Secretive - Bucky Barnes

21 || The Kid

[Nova]
»May I ask who the kid is?« I say a little uncertain when entering the car. Whereas, the car is a title too underestimating. I sit in something that probably is a thousand times as intelligent as me in form of a black sports vehicle.

»It's Peter Parker. He goes to Midtown High School.« the robotic voice responds, echoing from every corner of the small room.

Admittedly, it is pretty awkward to speak to a car. I mean, it is not even a living thing. And Siri is something different. It habits in my phone, a little thing that mostly appears in the pockets of my jeans, and not all around me.

I do not really get why I need to pick him up, but I will not complain. This is my second day, and I am still working on a good impression. Better to be obedient and simply do what I am told to, especially since it was Tony Stark to ask me to do it.

I need a few moments to get myself comfortable and used to all the technology around me; there are some buttons I never saw before in my life, and the little display above the joystick has several symbols that make my head spin. Now I know why I prefer my older, simpler car to half-a-million-dollar-cars. Probably this sum is not even close to the price, and adrenaline hits me when I think about the pressure to not destroy it, not even a scratch.

I have got to give the point of safe driving to the car, though. There are lots of assistants, lots of cameras to look around the car that help me driving and parking. Though, it does not change my decision about the preferring.

Midtown High School sets me into a stage of nostalgia. Even from the car, the red bricks and white windows and frames remind me somewhat of my own school, even if it has been much uglier. The car tells me Peter has to be in sports class now, and that I should excuse him by mentioning a Stark internship. I suggest him to be keeping his identity a secret, and I can understand; being a superhero has to be difficult, I can tell that by only passing one and a half days with a couple of them, and it is no secret that it brings danger to most of the beloved ones.

I cross the huge entrance with determined steps. A little breeze plays with my hair, which today I chose to wear open. There is no better way to hide hickeys that are not to cover with makeup.

When I walk in, I have two options: going left, or going right. In front of me, there are rows of monotone lockers in both directions, separated only in the middle to present awards won by sports teams. American high schools really look like portrayed in movies.

There are not many other noises, so I decide to follow the yelling from the left. It is afternoon by now, and the only classes have to be some extra courses and P.E., at least, that is what it is like back in Germany.

I turn the next corner right, then left again to find the core in the sports hall. Nearly jumping in cause of my little success, I push my head through the two large doors and walk in right after.

The smell of sweat and heavily breathing teenagers greet me, and I am definitely not amused, but not show it anyways. Again, I am reminded on my own time in school, and I am very glad not to have to go to sweat in front of my entire class.

The moment I enter, though, it becomes quieter. I can feel eyes on me, from almost everywhere, when I walk to the teacher and tell him the reason I am here for. As if on cue, a brown-haired, slender boy jumps from the corner of the room, leaving a rather burly, darker skinned boy and a young girl with brown locks and brown eyes. I guess these two are Ned and MJ, then. The car really caught me up.

»Mister Stark called?« he asks when he reaches us, his eyes shining with excitement, voice dripped in hope. I cannot help but smile about his joy.