teen spirit|| peter parker [1]

four

"Good morning, it is 3am. The weather in Manhattan, New York is 68 degrees Fahrenheit with scattered clouds," Antares' British drawl wakes me from my slumber. I groan and attempt to pull myself up, before finding too much comfort in my duvet and dropping my head back onto my pillow and burying deep.

The three hours of broken sleep I managed to get last night may as well have been zero- I feel as exhausted as ever.

"Up and at 'em, come on. You've got thirty minutes to get ready or else Happy is leaving without you. Waffles in the kitchen if you can get dressed in five,"Dad's eager voice fills my room with a sense of anticipation which finds its way into my brain. I'm excited. What am I excited for?

Germany.

Germany.

"Wow, congratulations, you made it here in four minutes and forty-two seconds," Dad pushes a plate towards me on the marble counter as I drag myself into the kitchen. I don't ask him why he's awake so early in the morning, he practically never sleeps, so it doesn't come as a surprise that I'd find him at three o'clock, gulping down mug after mug of black coffee.

I always feel nauseous in the mornings, it's an excruciating part of my daily routine that has been plaguing me since my first day attending Middle School. I suppose the anxiety linking to 7am breakdowns over the day ahead, surrounded by bitchy girls from the suburbs and dim footballers didn't disappear when Tony pulled me from school to have someone tutor me at home, occasionally a fusion of him and Bruce.

"Are you all packed?" Dad calls down the corridor as he trails into his workshop, swearing under his breath as he sifts through files in search of something appearing to be of significance importance.

I grunt in confirmation as I pull a slightly faded sweater over my head and struggle to push my arms through the sleeve holes in a hurry; Happy is waiting outside. Once I lug my suitcase to the front door, Dad rushes after me and makes a big fuss of putting my suitcase in the trunk and making sure I promise to be nice and to talk to Peter during the journey, considering 'it's either hearing Happy snoring the whole time, or making friends.'

It's still dark; only street lamps reflecting a warm glow on the pavements and lighting the high points on Dad's face. "You've been by yourself for over three and a half years. I know it's daunting and different, but sometimes you have to face up to your fears to see that they aren't really real; just something you've constructed in your mind over time." Dad pulls me into a tight embrace as I feel tears collect in the bottom lids of my eyes, a short intake of breath following my lips.

"Dad, he's Peter Parker, he's practically harmless. Why would I be afraid of him?" I bite down harshly on my tongue to restrain any whimpers. I'm not sure why I'm almost crying. But, I suppose the stress from the past few months has grown to the point of hacking away at my rotting brain, until all I want to do is cry. And sleep. But it's been a while since I either.

'Unhealthy coping mechanisms' and all that bullshit.

"I don't mean him in particular. I just mean putting yourself out there in general. You're a teenager. You're allowed to let yourself live, Bonnie," he mumbles to me, though I can feel Happy's sharp glares pushing daggers into the back of my head, most likely stressed about the amount of time ticking by.

"Well, this is a mission, isn't it? It's not supposed to be fun. It's work. We have to be professional. I will befriend Peter on a work-basis only." I straighten my back and drop the small smile playing on my face as a breathy chuckle escapes Dad's lips.

"Yeah, you definitely need to experience what it's like to be a teenager," he opens the door to the backseat for me while emphasising that Peter must sit beside me, and I must attempt small talk, no matter how excruciating it is.