Spyder and The Avengers

Chapter 1 - School, Keep Cool, See HIM and Drool

"Pepper Parker! You have won the raffle tickets to the school dance. Congratulations! Please come to the office to claim them. Thank you all for listening, and have a great day," the loudspeaker blared during Friday's AP math class.

I jolted awake, my head whipping up to face the blackboard. Had I dozed off again? These stupid exams, I swear... I finished them so quickly, I had plenty of time to drift off.

Oops.

"Wow," I whispered to my best friend Marceline, getting up from the desk. "I can't believe I won! I put, like, barely any raffle tickets in there. Well, see you in a bit."

She sniffed and turned back to the phone she was hiding underneath her desk, miffed at the fact that I won and she didn't. Marceline's like that all the time, but she's worth it. I don't know how or why, but she is. Hands down.

In case no one noticed, I'm not exactly what society would consider "normal." I'd more likely be the "socially-awkward-nerd-who-doesn't-have-any-other-friends" than the "BAM!-here-are-some-superpowers-for-you," which was why what happened to me was disturbingly different.

I left the classroom and jumped as the door slammed shut behind me. I'm never going to get used to that, I thought. Never.

The walk to the office from Mr. Kyle's class was endless, with an infinite number of battered blue lockers decorating the dull brown walls.

When I reached the office, Ms. Grune, the secretary, quickly looked up from her computer and pointed to a table. She always hid behind her long blonde locks, and I pitied her for it. Our school's secretary was just too shy. She quite liked the Avengers, though. Every day, without fail, Ms. Grune would have on a "I ♥ CAP" t-shirt or something like that.

I thought those guys were okay. The Avengers did save the city on more than one occasion, but usually ended up destroying some in the process. So they were just alright.

Ms. Grune turned back to the screen and continued to type.

On the table were at least twenty bright purple tickets for our school's annual "Party Because It's Summer!" dance, held on the last day of school. Excited at the prospect of winning the mystery cash prize, I picked them up and shoved them all into my pocket.
Then the bell rang, signaling the end of the last day of finals.

I practically sprinted back to my locker and spun the combination. My bookbag tumbled out and, luckily, it didn't land right on top of me. I scooped it up and sprinted to my homeroom, but ended up bumping smack dab into Chase Mason.

Here's a quick rundown on the famed and critically acclaimed Chase "Chay-May" Mason: Über-jock, been held back a few times, always skipping class, a favorite among the ladies, and absolutely positively dashing.

Mouth-wateringly, faint-inducingly dashing.

Getting an idea?

I blushed and mumbled an apology, trying my best to avoid eye contact.

He put a gentle hand on my shoulder and said, "Hey, uh, Pepper?"

I looked up at him, thrilled that Chay-May knew my name. "Wh-what, Chase?" I asked, silently scolding myself for stupidly stuttering.

He smiled that dazzling smile of his and I almost melted, right then and there. "You should look people in the eyes more often. Your irises-" Chase was interrupted by a buzzing, coming from his pocket. He pulled his phone out, lightning fast, and glanced at the screen. "Ah, Pepsi. I've gotta split. Chase, over and out."

With that, he sprinted away, turned a corner, and headed directly into the boys' bathroom.

O-kay...

My face turned an even brighter red. I was almost positive that it matched my hair now. Taking a deep breath and straightening my glasses, I said, "Ah... Uh-huh, Chase... Bye."

And Pepsi? Was that a nickname? For me? Holy shizzle!

Then I turned towards my room, pulse pounding like a sledgehammer. The loudspeaker crackled to life, saying that all students were now dismissed and to have a great day. Again. Ms. Grune said that every single time.

A mass of students poured out of all the high school classrooms. I was pushed along with them, feeling like an inexperienced surfer riding a tsunami. With no surfboard.

The flood of students, including me, came tumbling out the doors. I was part of a wild stampede of peers who just couldn't wait to get on the Friday buses and ride home. What they did then, I didn't know, and neither did I want to.

I shoved through hordes of kids, both younger and older than myself. Finally, I was standing in front of my bus home. Back to Aunt Mae and Uncle Ben for two whole days. Not that I didn't enjoy school, though. I just wanted to see some kind, familiar faces again.

And maybe convince Mae into making one of her intoxicating batches of triple-chocolate-chip cookies.

Still charged from the close contact with Chase, I climbed into the bus and took a seat; the one closest to the front and right next to the doors. This was so I could stay away from all of the big, bad seniors who were, well, jerks. I pulled my newest novel from my backpack and began to read, savoring each and every word.

Right after my bus began pulling out of the beat-up parking lot, Marceline shot out of the building, her stylish Cotton Candy™ backpack bouncing up and down as she ran. Looking up from my book, I could hear her yelling, "WAIT! Don't leave yet! STOP THE BUUUUUS!"

My bus driver, being the mean nuisance he is, refused to hear her and kept driving. The other students on the bus, being the mean nuisances they are, laughed and called for him to go faster.

"Hey," I shouted to the driver, getting worked up. "Stop the bus! Let her on!"

He turned towards me, dirty red and white baseball cap askew, still driving. "Girl, I don't know how your parents raised ya, but on mah bus, ya talk respectfully. Say you're sorry, girlie."

I was piping-hot mad now, but forced myself to cool down. After a moment, I muttered a one-word apology.

He nodded and slowly pressed down on the brakes. A little while later, Marceline staggered on, panting. Her orange-highlighted hair was a mess, and she was clearly upset about it. She slid into my seat and put a hand on my lap, the other one digging around her backpack for a comb and probably some heavy-duty hairspray.

"Thanks, Pepper," Marcy cooed, both arms now immersed up to the elbows. "I would have had to walk home if it wasn't for you."

I cracked my book open again with a smile. "Anytime. You're worth it, Marcy."

"Okay, then..." She said, laughing and fixing her 'do in the window's reflection. "Now, where'd I put my phone? Hmm..." She dug around in her bookbag until she pulled out a designer purse. "Here we are!"

Her iPhone was brand-new and she basically texted her life away on the thing. She stared at it so hard it made my eyes ache in sympathy.

I wiggled deeper into the hard bus seat, but to no avail. Soft cushions? Forget it. 

Since I was the last stop on the ride home, I knew I'd be here for quite a while. Marceline got off at the very first stop, since she lived in a rich development closer to the school.

"Stop one!" The bus driver hollered as we shuddered to a stop.

Marceline slung her bookbag onto her back, getting up. "See you Monday," she sang, practically jumping off the bus and sashaying right up to the gilded double doors of her (and I kid you not) mansion.

The bus lurched away.

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<·<Pepper_B_Parker*Alias:_Spyder*Position:_S.H.I.E.L.D._agent>·>

Whew. Well, that's chapter one. Let me know what you think in the comments, please! I'd love to hear your opinion on my, uh, life story.

FYI: The school shown above (way, way above) is basically what my school looks like. Very exciting, I know.