~Iron Family~

That Can't Be Who I Think It Is

Peter decided to lock his suit back into his suitcase (which would be a literal suit-case now) until he didn't see a single Avenger for a long time, although it pained him.

Considering he was an intern for one of them, though, that was going to take awhile.

He got up at five-thirty, made himself breakfast, and made sure to tug a long-sleeved shirt over his arm. There wasn't much he could do about the bruises on his face where he'd had the run-in with Captain America's shield, but luckily those were fading fast.

He was ready to go by ten till six. By then, he had snuck up to the room to wake everyone up real quick. They really needed an alarm clock.

When he saw promising signs that everyone would stay awake and not simply roll over (the sign being Arnwaldo singing good morning to his rock), Peter dashed out the door, backpack flying behind him. It was about five miles, which would take him just under two hours to walk if he wasn't careful. He usually got there just in the nick of time.

Under normal circumstances, he wouldn't have been caught dead walking to school. He would much rather swing and just pull his clothes over his suit when he got there. Unfortunately, with the Avengers after his head, he didn't think it was safe to go out just yet. He didn't want to take the bus again, thanks to his panic attack he'd had on the first ride. 

And so, he was left to his thoughts as he shuffled down the sidewalk, half-asleep.

He was going to kill Mr. Stark. As politely as possible. He was going to pull every innocent-and-adorable card he had, trip him up with so much guilt he wouldn't be able to walk straight.

Why was he attacking Spider-Man anyway? Couldn't they just leave him alone? Peter knew deep down that he couldn't be left alone, and it wasn't Iron Man's fault for the government enforcing the laws.

Laws like you can't drink and drive or abuse children, Peter thought grumpily. All half-formed thoughts of Mr. Stark being innocent evaporated from his mind.

Mr. Stark had gotten him into this mess in the first place. If it weren't for him, he would still happily (for the most part) be on the streets, not having to feel responsible for four other children and getting punished for it. A part of him wanted to run away, but a bigger part wanted to stay and protect the kids. He could tell that since his arrival, the Wagers had been less cruel and abusive to the other kids, but not by much. If he was gone, what was to stop them from going back to the way things were? Who would make sure they went to school every morning?

The other kids had only been at the Wagners for four months, since school ended in May. They didn't have a school plan--that depended on Peter. What would happen in the (unlikely) event that he got sick? What would happen in the (extremely likely) event that he got captured or hurt on the job, and was unable to return to wake them up in the morning?

What would he do?

All these possibilities swarmed around in his head, blocking his focus so that he didn't notice when he arrived at the school and ran into somebody.

"Watch it!" the kid growled. Peter, alarmed, took a step back and sized up the obstacle between him and the front door. It was a girl with purple hair, at least a head taller than him. She wore goth-looking stuff and a lot of makeup. She sneered down at him and poked a finger to his chest.

"Watch where you're going, noob. Stay out of the way."

"I--I was just--" Peter stammered, trying to back away and head towards the door. The girl held him in her steely gaze.

"Ugh, are you new here?" she groaned. "No wonder. Everybody knows who I am around here--Patricia Jones. And anyone, new or old, with common sense knows to stay out of the way. I guess you don't have common sense."

"Um, okay. Message delivered and received. Steer clear. Gotcha." Peter laughed nervously and Patricia's friends flipped their hair.

"Stay where you're wanted, newbie," Patricia said sarcastically, sticking out her bottom lip and Peter's head a purposefully hard pat. "Nowhere."

She sashayed away with her friends and Peter sighed. He couldn't let the bullies get to him around here--apparently they were all just really shallow.

"Don't let Patricia bother you," a voice said in his ear, making him jump and give a small yelp. Jeez, did his spidey-sense ever want to work?

A girl was giving him a hesitant smile, her soft shoulder-length blond hair whipping in her face thanks to the wind. She pushed it out of her eyes with a scoff and straightened her black headband. Peter laughed nervously.

"Thanks. Is she always like that?" Peter picked up the pencils that had flown out of his bag when he had jumped.

"Like what? Shallow, petty, making insults that don't make sense?" The girl's icy blue eyes sparkled with humor. "Pretty much."

Peter grinned, then stuck out his hand. "I'm Peter, by the way. Peter Parker."

The girl hesitated, then slowly reached out her hand to shake. Her grip was tentative and uncertain.

"I'm..."

Before she could tell Peter her name, the bell rang. Kids that were still outside started running to get to class in time.

"Well, gotta run!" she called, sprinting up the stairs. Peter stared after her, knowing he should probably do the same.

***

All he could think about during chemistry class was the mysterious girl.

He liked her.

Not like like her or anything, he'd always had a crush on MJ. But this girl was interesting--and mysterious.

The first real person to talk to him that hadn't been a bully or a lunch lady. That had to count for something, right?

He was determined to find this girl at lunch hour, but she was nowhere to be seen. Peter sat down at a table by himself in the corner, trying to enjoy the last lunch he was able to get with the money Mr. Stark had given him. Hopefully he would get to come to the compound soon, otherwise he would have to ask Bernard permission to bring some food to school. And with the tension between them lately (or since forever), Peter didn't feel like it.

"Cool drink," someone said as they walked by, reaching their hand out and snatching his milk before he could stop them. The dude took a long gulp before setting it back down on Peter's lunch tray, spilling some into his lap.

"Oops," he laughed as he walked away. Peter gritted his teeth.

Why did he even let this stuff happen? He was Spider-Man, for crying out loud! Shouldn't he be able to quit insufficient bullying? Seriously, what Flash did was probably ten times worse just because of the language and verbal attacks, and yet this bothered him ten times more. At least Flash bullied Peter for a purpose--he simply didn't like the fact that he was smarter and better-looking than him (according to Peter). These kids bullied him because they had nothing better to do--they just picked on the small kids for fun.

Maybe Peter could stage a nerd uprising here or something. Not that anyone would be confident enough to join, anyway.

Lunch passed without another bully, probably because Peter was hiding in the bathroom and trying to get the milk off of his pants.

He thought he caught a glimpse of the girl's head as the final bell rang. Pushing himself out the crowded doors, he tried to catch up to her. But when at last the crowd thinned, he saw her climb into a silver car and being driven away.