Arachnophobia ⇒ Peter Parker

eight: academic decathlon

         "Joseph Conrad," I said as I gazed over the girl's shoulder at her book, "Lord Jim."

      At this statement, I caught her attention. She stared up at me. A thick strand of hair that frizzly laid on her face covered her eyes. She shut the book and placed it on a stack with others. Then she grabbed the apple in front of her and took a large bite. I could tell she wasn't a talkative person, and by no means was she going to open up to the new girl who could have as easily read the title of her book before approaching her.

     "I love his work. Such simple text to accompany a strong meaning, the deficits of communism."

     Satisfied at this answer, the girl replied, "You've managed to impress me, new girl. What's your backstory?" At this, she slightly leaned forward and her fingers tapped impatiently on the open patch of table to her left.

      "My old school didn't work out too well. Once I passed the test to go here, my parents sent me away to my stepfather," I said. The hesitance in my own tone was so evident that I felt as though these were questions and not answers.

     "Are you sure that's the truth?" The girl questioned. Everything around me felt as though it slowed down. Had this girl realized that I was fraud? Did she know the truth? I cursed out my bad acting skills and tried to steady my heartbeat, which was out of control. Did anyone else know? I sat there like a deer in the headlights, ready for her to reveal my true identity.

     "Kidding," she said with a loud laugh, "First Parker, now you. I'm starting to wonder the true identities of the kids in this school."

      I began to laugh as well, relieve settling over me. I was confused by her previous statement about Peter. Had she been close to getting an answer out of the boy too?

     The girl extended her hand and said, "I'm Michelle by the way. My friends call me MJ."

     Assuming she already knew my name, I nodded and extended my hand as well. I could tell that the girl was beginning to warm up to me, which was a large relief.

     At one point, I had glanced to the side and realized that Peter and his friend were watching me. Even though I was truly alone, I felt as though this girl was one of the only ones who could relate to me at this school. Once lunch was over, I waved her a goodbye and continued on my way.

     The lecture hall was rather small and the second I entered, the Academic Decathlon team diverted their attention over to me. Michelle was standing on top of a podium, a handful of kids sat together at a table, and four were lined up on the stage sitting behind tables with large buzzers on them. Michelle waved at me as I neared the center of the room while the man who appeared to be supervising the club turned around to face me.

     "Hello, anything I can help you with?" The teacher asked. His hand disrupted his well-groomed beard and his shoulder-length hair was pushed behind his shoulders. He looked at me intensely with his bright blue eyes.

     I nervously stated, "Yes, I was wondering if I could join the team."

     The teacher, who later introduced himself as Mr. Harrington, gestured over to MJ. She shrugged and began to walk away from the podium, nearing me.

     "I don't see why not," she said. At this comment, a boy that was sitting on the sidelines stood up. His gelled black hair shifted out of place as anger flustered over him. His hands were on his hips as he sashayed over to us.

     He struggled to calm his anger as he began to rant about how I wasn't allowed to be on the team and how I couldn't waltz in to claim my place. After he bellowed out his monologue, he was viciously shaking and a string of spit dribbled down his Midtown High t-shirt. Everyone gaped at him oddly, partially wondering how he could have possibly gotten this flustered for such a trivial reason and partially because he had managed his whole speech in one breath.

     "I'll tell you this, we do a round of questions, and if I lose I'll leave and never come back."

     This seemed to spark the interest of Michelle as she allowed me to walk on stage alongside my opponent. The boy scoffed and pushed another boy out of his chair, proudly taking a seat. I, on the other hand, politely asked a girl if I could sit in her position. MJ placed her book on the podium and verified that we were ready to begin.

     "How is the cosmopolitan atmosphere of the Enlightenment MOST evident in that era's music?"

     Ding. I pressed down my buzzer and replied, "Hybrid of styles."

     "Correct. Nice job, Rose," MJ congratulated. My opponent tensed, clearly uncomfortable with the fact that I had correctly answered the question.

     The round continued. The intensity of the questions was rising. There were two of us, one whose hands were shaking out of nervousness and one whose hands were shaking out of rage. She continued with the next questions. Once the round was over, we both knew who had won.

     "Well, Flash," Mr. Harrington said, "it looks like your back to first alternate. Rose, welcome to the team."

     The group cheered at this. I smiled widely. And for the first time, I realized that this feat was manageable. Maybe spying on a superhero secretly and working for an evil mastermind wasn't normal, but I wasn't completely detached from what I knew.

     So we all sat there, chuckling amongst ourselves. My new teammates gave me a pat on the back. We had an automatic connection, and I clearly fit in. Practice was postponed to invite the team's newest member in.

     For the first time since this whole situation had occurred, I felt secure. And feeling that way made me euphoric.

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Next chapter I promise someone on one Amalia/Peter action! Are you in for a treat. For now, I'm super happy with the way this turned out. Are you? Please let me know by commenting and liking down below! It would be greatly appreciated. Thank you so much for 93 reads; I am so mind blown that this book has gotten this far! Anyways, until the fateful day where these two meet, see you then!! Next chapter will be published: Saturday, August 26.