The Daughter of Iron Man

The Lonesome Road

It's funny to think how such little time can change a person so much.

4 years ago, I was just the daughter of Tony Stark.

The daughter most people knew existed, though saw little of. My dad didn't intentionally try to hide me, though he didn't parade me around like most celebrity kids are.

I was a child genius, though being the daughter of Tony Stark it didn't surprise anyone.

Who ever would have guessed that the little nerd, the girl living in the shadow of her father, would one day gain a terrifying skill set along with super powers?

Some days, I wish I was still that awkward little nerd.

Yesterday was horrible, so it wasn't a surprise that this morning was worse.

When I showered, my eyes burned from the dried up salt that lingered after a night of crying. I didn't want to go to school, and even considered just telling my dad I was sick so I wouldn't have to go. Yet somehow, I ended up here anyways.

The lack of sleep made it extremely difficult to concentrate. It was as if my attention span was lowered to 10 seconds, if that. 

Sarah and I roamed the halls like we do every morning before classes start. It was starting to get busier as more kids showed up, though that was to be expected.

As usual, Sarah was her usual cheerful self and babbled on and on about some guy she met last week. I don't know if she thought I was listening or not, but I'm starting to get the impression that she just likes to hear her own voice when she's talking about a boy, and babbles on to me so she doesn't look crazy talking excessively to herself.

"Are you sure it's not him?" She asked, pulling me back to reality.

I was confused for a moment since I hadn't been listening for the last 10 minutes, but it wasn't too long before I realized she was talking about yesterday.

"It's not." I replied, swallowing my lie and making my heart hurt.

I wanted to tell Sarah more than anything about my discoveries. That Peter Parker is Spider-Man, that my dad made his suit, etc. But the topic was still painful, and the emotional wounds from the fight with my dad about it last night were too fresh. 

I hate keeping secrets from her, but I know it's the best thing for both of us right now.

She watched me suspiciously, and it was obvious that she knew something else was up. However to my relief, she brushed it off. I glanced over at her, impressed with how quickly she brushed it off knowing I probably wasn't in the mood to talk about it.

I don't understand how Sarah can always look like a supermodel.

Her dark skin appeared to be completely smooth, not even the shadow of a pimple visible. Her big, dark eyes were so full of hope and life, and her black hair fell down her back in her usual natural, tight curls. She wore skinny jeans that were very flattering on her muscular figure from years of dance and sports, along with a loose white shirt and a navy green jacket.

Next to her even though I looked somewhat decent, I felt like I looked homeless.

"He was just following me because he thought I was pretty." I told her, repeating the same lie that he told me.

We walked in silence for a moment, letting the words sink in. We walked past a series of windows, instantly getting blinded by the rising sun. The sun's warmth radiated through the windows, warming my entire body for just a moment until we stepped back into the shadows of walls and artificial lights.

Sarah smirked next to me, nudging my shoulder harder than necessary. "Well, he's not wrong."

I smiled lightly, a feeling of gratefulness falling over me. I'm so lucky that I was able to meet her at the national science fair where we almost immediately became best friends, and even stuck together when we had thousands of miles between us for so long.