Field Trip to Stark Industries- Peter Parker/ Spider-Man

Field Trip (Pt. 5) - Lunch

Before I start, can I just say, WHAT?!?!? 277 reads and 15 votes?!? Thank you all so much! I've got to say, when I started this, I was basically hoping that I'd maybe by the end I would get 50 reads and possibly 5 votes. This is freaking insane, thank you guys so much! I love you all, you make writing so much more fun :)

     Once I have showered and don't smell like a dirty gym bag, I return to the training room, only to find that everyone had gone to lunch. As I walk to the lunch room, my wet hair keeps flopping into my eyes and causing me to flop into a few walls.

     I enter the lunch room and take in the surroundings. The place is a bit unfamiliar, as I'm not usually around for lunch, but it is fairly easy to find my class. They are sitting at one long table in the corner that was taped off from the rest of the room. Mr. Locke is standing awkwardly in the corner, not wanting to sit with the kids but not having anywhere else, so he's just there with his arms crossed, scowling like there's no tomorrow. All of them had already gone to get the top of the line food, but I'm not really that hungry so I just go over and sit next to Ned at the end of the table.

     "Hey, Ned." I say as I plop down. Ned mumbles a quick "hello" through a mouthful of food. He swallows before saying, "Sorry. It's just that this food is so good! I never want to leave!" I chuckle and leave him to his eating. Well, more like devouring. Or inhaling. Absolute annihilating. A complete and total abolition of-

     A loud voice rudely interrupts my thoughts. "Hey, Parker!" Flash mockingly calls. "You're sooooo famous! Can I have your autograph?"

     I sigh as the rest of the class laughs. MJ grabs an apple and chucks it at Flash, hitting him square in the nose, and turns back to me, giving me a sideways smile and a thumbs up. I smile gratefully back at her.

     With Ned hyper focusing on his food and MJ continuing to read her book, I've really got no other friends, so I just sit there, catching little pieces of conversation around the room. It's kind of fun, pinpointing small conversations in the large cafeteria with my advanced Spider-Man hearing, but taken out of context, the little snippets of conversation are so, so weird.

     "-tickled him, and he was all like, 'What the hell, Greg?'"

     "I don't understand why we can't just be free-"

     "-So I was just standing there, barbecue sauce on my-"

     "-the nasty little gremlin-"

     "I'm gonna kill you-"

     "-Are you suggesting that coconuts migrate?"

     That last voice sounded familiar. I focus on it, and realize it's coming from out in the hallway. A second person talks, and his voice is familiar, too.

     "No, of course not, I'm just saying, there's a difference between an African and a European swallow that could effect the speed-"

     "No, that's so wrong!" The other voice interrupts. They are slowly getting closer. "There's no difference between a swallow that's from Africa and one from Europe!"

     "Is too!"

     "Is not!"

     And then it hits me. Who else would be arguing like that? It's Bucky and Sam. Oh ho HO, Damn it!

     I audibly groan, and Ned looks to me in confusion. I glance back at him briefly in suppressed panic, and then try to cover my face as much as possible, hoping they wouldn't see me. Of course, Mr. Stark must have sent them down, fully knowing that I would be there.

     I almost think they haven't seen me until I hear an "Oh heyyyy, Peter! ...Whatcha doin'?"

     I stand up from where I was currently hiding, behind an awestruck Ned, and stiffly sit back into my seat with a fake smile. "Heyyy, guys! What are you doing here?"

     "Tony sent us down to get some bananas to prank Thor." Called it, I thought. "What are you doin' here?" Sam asks.

     "I'm sitting with my classmates, Sir." I say pointedly, subtly glaring at him. 

     "Ohhhhhh," he says, and winks at me, before very loudly and mechanically saying, "Why aren't you sitting with the interns, Peter, since you're an intern, here, interning."

     Bucky looks bewildered. "But Peter isn't an inter-" He starts to say, before Sam elbows him in the gut telling him to shut up.

     "But hey, while we have you here, can we ask you a very important question?" Sam asks and I nod. 

      Bucky starts to speak. "Why is the fridge in the lounge talking to me whenever-" 

     "We already talked about this, Buck! It's just F.R.I.D.A.Y.!" Sam cuts him off, exasperatedly waving his arms around for emphasis. He turns back to me. "No, what we really wanted to ask you, is what is the average air speed velocity of an unladen swallow?"

     "And is there a difference between African swallows and European swallows? Because African swallows could be tropical and carrying coconuts." Bucky adds.

     Sam looks back at Bucky. "No! Damn it, Buck! We went over this! A swallow is way to small to carry a coconut by itself!"

     "There could be a few swallows carrying the same coconut! Ever think of that?" Bucky retorts, and they both turn back to me, gazing at me expectantly. 

     "I-I just-I just don't even know how to respond to that." I say, giving up.

     "See? I told you!" Sam says as they head out. They disappear from sight, but with my super hearing, I can still hear them. "We'll just have to ask somebody els- Oh hey it's Steve! Steve! No! Stop running! Come back! We want to ask you a question!" Their voices get hazier and hazier as they get farther away, chasing Mr. Rogers up a hallway. I laugh to myself, and turn back to my classmates, who are staring at me, wide eyed. My cheeks turn red and I uncomfortably look down.

     No one speaks until Flash snickers. "How much did you pay them to say that, Parker? There's sure as hell no way you intern here! Everyone could see how much the Falcon was faking that!"

     Everyone else at the table nods, agreeing with him, and start laughing at me. I know that what they say is not true, and that I shouldn't listen to them, but I can't help it. When they're making fun of me, I start to feel like it's true, and that's probably the worst part. No, the worst part is that I can never do anything about it, no matter what they do. Flash could probably stab me and I wouldn't fight back, because there's a chance that I could accidentally end up killing him, and I don't want that on my conscience. So I just sit there, staring at my feet, as everybody laughs. Ned pats me on the back, and I reassure him, telling him that I'm fine, but on the inside, I'm screaming.

     Why can't I be just like everyone else?!?!?

Sorry, this took a little bit longer than anticipated! I'm swamped with homework, and sports are really taking up my time. I promise I'll try to update more regularly! Thank you for reading my story and have a completely, utterly, fantastic, perfect day! Go out there and make it as frickin' beautiful and awesome as you are! 

Word Count: 1,250