That's Stark's Boy/ Peter Parker

First Day

*EDITED CHAPTER 2021*

You entered the schools building, already hating it. The stares you got from the other students, the whispers as you walked past, you just wanted to turn around and leave again. You ignored the other students and walked briskly to your assigned locker, sighing as you had your backs to the prying eyes of the other students. 

A small part of you had hoped your mother would've broken by now, maybe missed you and wanted you home but you knew that'd never be true. You shoved everything you didn't need inside the cramped locker, glancing at the schedule that had been given to you.

You hated this place already; a science and technology school, of course, Tony would send you here. You turned around, shrugging your worn bag over your shoulder and glancing up, your breathing stopped as you see a crowd of people all staring back at you. Well, this isn't totally awkward- you bitterly thought to yourself, you gave a small, awkward smile before scurrying off down the hall.

You end up bumping into someone, well they bumped into you. Their messenger bag dropped to the floor and opened, revealing a sketchbook that had doodles on the front. "I'm sorry, wasn't looking where I was going." You trailed off watching as a girl with brown, messy, curly hair that was held in a ponytail at the nape of her neck, picked everything off of the floor.

Your eyes follow as she stands up, a blank expression on her face as she looks up at you. A black, oversized jacket doms her look, she actually looked great. "I figured that when my bag fell to the floor." Her voice dripping with sarcasm, you cock an eyebrow in reply. "I take it your new here, would've remembered seeing the second tallest building in New York attend Midtown High." You roll your eyes at the attempted joke of you being tall.

"Nice, that's the first tall joke I've gotten since arriving." You inform and she shrugs one shoulder, "Y/N Stark, new guy and doesn't want to be here guy." You extend a hand, she glances you over before placing her own, small hand in yours and shaking- with amazing strength.

"I'm MJ," you nod once. "Let me look at that," she grabs your schedule from your hand, "huh, you have art first with me. I'll show you the way." She slaps the piece of paper firmly against your chest, you grab it before it can fall and move to keep up with her- not that it was difficult, your legs are longer than hers.

Not a lot of conversation is made with MJ, you're grateful for that. She makes small comments about some classes as you pass, also some students- mostly the students- you actually liked her dry sense of humour, considering you shared the same. She moved to sit at the back of the class, you quickly followed, averting your eyes at the students watching you.

"How does it feel to be the celebrity of the school?" MJ asked, pulling out her pencils and sketchbook. You didn't give her an answer, not that she cared. "They'll get bored of you soon, you aren't Stark himself, they'll realise that." You let out a small chuckle, glancing at MJ who was slouched in her seat eyeing the outside the window with her arms crossed.

"Well, I won't be sticking around long enough to see them get bored of me." You inform, also crossing your arms, that catches her attention. "I'm not staying here, I'm not staying with Tony; I'll be gone by the end of the week... or kicked out."

Surprisingly, you had a lot of lessons with MJ but a few of them also involved Peter Parker. You tried not to get aggravated by that, he wasn't the one you should be angry with but, you knew, whatever happened here he'd tell your father. His own personal little spy; watching and keeping an eye on you. When lunch rolled around you ended up following MJ, sitting with her as she pulled out a book and began to read, totally ignoring you and the people that kept glancing at you both.

You pulled out your phone, sighing gently when none of your friends had bothered to text you, some not even bothering to reply to your texts. You tried to not let that get to you, running a hand through your messy hair and placing your phone down with abandon. You glance to your left to see Peter sitting at the end of the table, chatting happily with a boy across from him. Admittedly, Peter had made effort to stay away from you, to keep out of your way and not be in your proximity unless necessary and you admired that.