New Beginnings (Peter Parker)

                                    

                                          
It was the start of your freshman year, and you couldn't be more worried.  First, your mother's new job had transplanted you halfway across the country.  You missed the Midwest more than you let on.  But you also missed your father, who was gone nearly every other day on some business trip around the country.  The only good news was it was a fresh start for you.  Midtown School of Science and Technology didn't know you, just like you didn't know it very well yet.

                          
You stepped up the gray stairs to the front of the red brick building.  The principal, Mr. Morales, had assigned someone to help you around.  You only prayed they were nice.  And they didn't smell bad.  The entire subway ride--accompanied by your mother--had smelled like an overflowing toilet.  She assured you that despite this, not every subway ride was going to smell like this.  Hope you're right, you had thought to yourself.
                          
You filed in after all the other students.  Midtown was much larger than your old school.  There had to be at least a couple hundred students in your class now, whereas you barely had one hundred in your little suburb back in the Midwest.  You gulped.  Now, where's the principal's office?  
                          
"Y/N Y/LN," a deep voice said.  A tall man approached you and held out his hand.  "I'm Mr. Morales.  I'm glad you made it early."
                          
"I wanted to make sure I was all acquainted," you said and followed Mr. Morales.  You filed through the students, nearly bumping into a few backpacks and instrument cases.  Two boys sat outside of the office chatting.  They were mumbling about the presidential election and the recent rally in the city.  The shorter one looked up to you and gave you a weak smile.  His friend, tanner and with black hair, turned too.
                          
"Y/N, this is Peter," Mr. Morales led you over to the two boys.  The shorter boy stood up and held out a hand.  You grabbed his hand and it was cold to touch.
                          
"I'm Peter.  Parker," he clarified.  He retreated his hands and stuck them in his pockets.  His cheeks were a little pink.  His friend also held out a hand.
                          
"I'm Ned Leeds," he shook your hand firmly and looked at Mr. Morales.  All three of you glanced his way.  
                          
"You're going to be in a lot of Peter's classes, so I have asked Peter if he wouldn't mind showing you around for the day to help you ease into things here at Midtown.  Is that alright?"  Mr. Morales put a hand on your shoulder and you nodded.  You glanced over at Peter.  His baby face was still focused on you, still smothered with that small awkward smile of his.  Ned nudged his friend and Peter's attention drifted away.
                          
"Oh right," Peter looked from Ned to you.  "It's almost class time.  We should get going."  Peter and Ned started off, looking to you to follow them along.  Mr. Morales waved.
                          
"If you need anything, you know where my office is," he said before disappearing into his office doorway.  He shut the door behind him.  Then you were left with the two boys.  Ned and Peter were chatting about something else: classes.
                          
"Do you have your locker assignment, Y/N?"  You handed Peter a piece of paper and he squinted at it.  Ned looked over his shoulder and the three of you stopped in the hallway.
                          
"Oh, it's right by our first class," Peter whipped his head around led you to a blue metal locker right outside of room 179.  He handed you the combo.  "You just need to turn it three times to reset it, then enter the combination."
                          
You fumbled with the locker.  Turn three times.  Twenty-one.  Turn to the left.  Forty.  Turn to the right.  Three.  You pulled down the lock and it clicked apart.  Peter and Ned were staring at their own class schedules.
                          
"So we have history and Spanish together," Ned said with a frown.  "And that's it.  At least we have lunch too."
                          
"Don't worry, we still robotics and marching band.  Remember: robotics is on Tuesday and Wednesday and marching band is Monday and Wednesday," Peter said.  "And maybe we can do academic decathlon."
                          
"Mr. Ford already wrote a recommendation for the new academic decathlon teacher.  I'm sure we'll be fine," Ned said and patted Peter on the shoulder.  He looked over to you from Peter's other side.  "I should be getting to class, but you guys have fun!"  
                          
All you saw was the back of Peter's head as him and Ned exchanged a look.  Ned saluted him and turned away from the two of you.  Peter turned back around with wide eyes and more rosiness to his face.
                          
"So...do you have any questions about your classes?  Seeing as most of them are, um, the same as mine, ha," he said and scratched the back of his head.  He pressed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.
                          
"I can't think of anything now.  But maybe later I'll have some," you said and put in some books to your locker.  You grabbed your first two classes: English and Biology.  Shutting your locker, Peter and you stopped in front of room 179.
                          
"We still have like five minutes.  Do you want to go in?"  You nodded to Peter and he opened up the door for you.  There were already a good number of students in there.  This school was definitely bigger than your old one.  A few boys glanced over to Peter and whispered to each other.  He just pushed his glasses up once more and found two seats for you guys in the middle of the classroom.  You sat to his right.  
                          
"Where are you from?  Your accent...it's not New York," he said as he took out a notebook and your English anthology book.  You did the same and took out a freshly sharpened pencil.
                          
"I'm from St. Louis," you said.  "Have you ever been there?"  Peter gave you a shy smile.
                          
"Truthfully, I have never left New York.  What's St. Louis like?"  He asked you.  You shrugged.
                          
"Smaller," you said with a laugh.  "New York is so big," you admitted.  Peter smiled and looked down to his textbook.  
                          
"There's a lot to see and do," he told you and twisted his pencil in his hand.  "I've lived here all my life and haven't seen everything."
                          
"Then I'll make it my mission to see it all," you said and glanced over to him.  Peter and you met eye contact.  His pencil went flying and hit a boy in the leg just below the knee.  A boy with dark eyes and perfectly coiffed hair glared at Peter.
                          
"Hey, Penis Parker," the bully said.  "Watch where you throw your stuff next time, eh?"  
                          
"Sorry, Flash," Peter said and retrieved his pencil off the ground.  You opened up your mouth to say something but the teacher entered the classroom.
                          
"Hello and welcome to your first day," the lady said.  She put down her books onto the desk and took a marker to the whiteboard.  She scribbled the name Ms. Jensen on the board before looking back to her students with her jungle green eyes.  "My name is Ms. Jensen and we're going to start on one of my favorite stories.  Does everyone have their anthology book?"  
                          
You looked down at your textbook.  Then, your hand went to your forehead and you checked your book bag once more.  Crap.  
                          
"Here," Peter whispered and edged his book over the side of his desk.  "Just till you have yours."  
                          
"Thanks," you said and blushed.  He did too.
                          
"Now, let's turn to page fifty-three.  I want you to read on your own, then we will discuss," Ms. Jensen said as she shouted out names for attendance.  Peter turned his attention down to the book, and so did you.  You tried your best to focus on the story and soak up the information, but you couldn't help but glance up at Peter once in a while.  
                          
There was something about him.  Something that begged you to get to know him.  For the first time since moving, you felt excited for all that New York had to offer.  You were excited to start fresh, and thankful Peter was your guide.  At least for one day.