Bruised But Not Broken - Irondad/spiderson

Neds Away

The burning sensation in my stomach didn't allow for much sleep. Tossing and turning I finally just stand up and get dressed for school. I might as well try to get to school early to finish yesterday's homework. Aunt May is still sound asleep as I sneak out the door. I left a note on the counter telling her I was getting extra study in before class this morning. 

There are holes in my shoes. And my socks, for that matter. So, walking down the street on the cold pavement of early morning frost is freezing for me. My sepst echo through the early morning allies, the smell of hot dogs and street food are only just starting to fill the air. I walk into the silent school and head to the study hall. Science has always been of significant interest to me; my dad was a major scientist. I wish he was still around to teach me some of the cool stuff he was exploring. That's how I got bit. 

A few months ago, I was going through some of my dad's things I found in the attic. A key fell out of one of his books with a note attached with an address. So naturally, I went to explore; while inside this dark lab, I found a spider dripping down on its web and landing on my hand, biting me and injecting me with its poison. I'm still unsure what is running through my body, but I can't say I don't welcome the change. A buzz from my phone snaps me out of my past. Neds going to be away today. Something about his dad needing help at his work. It's time to face the torment alone today.

The first bell rings, and I rush to my English Lit class; luckily, I only have a homeroom with Flash, but that's always last period. My voice becomes dry and hoarse as no one has spoken to me all day - 

"You're Parker, right?" I turn in my seat to see her. MJ. The girl the most beautiful girl in the world.

 "Uh yeah, uhm, Hi Mj", I sputter out with a dry cough.

"riiighhhtt.. where you're buddy today?" she questions after my awful attempt at speaking.

 "he's uh, he's away today helping his family with.. something."Saying this, I look down at my shoes, waiting for a reply; after all, she was looking for Ned, not me. 

"Oh.. okay, Parker." MJ pulls up a chair next to me and starts sketching. I always see her drawing in her book, but never this close. I let out a nervous breath. 

"oh, uhm, what are you drawing?" Mj looks up, smiling, 

"I tend to draw people in crisis, and you, my friend. Look like you are in crisis." she explains.

 "I'm not in crisis", I mutter out

"Well, ya look like it." and with that, she sits in silence, seemingly drawing my 'crisis face'.

Mr Harrington walked in, ready for our lesson. 

"I have some exciting news for everyone!" he exclaimed, walking over to his desk and flopping a big pile of papers down. 

"It's that time of year, people! excursion time!" great, another lame excursion that will end up with my head down a public toilet. On my last excursion to a theme park, Flash gave me a swirly in a toilet with puke still in it; I stunk like barf the whole hour-long bus ride home, and not even Ned could sit near me. 

"Thompson, Morris, hand these out", Mr Harrington muttered, handing them papers. 

"This excursion is going to be the best day trip of your LIFE." Mr Harrington can get a little over the top. 

"This place will not only widen your minds to more intelligence, but you can get a chance to be assessed for a part-time internship! This could turn into your future jobs, people! " This would have piqued my interest if Flash Thompson hadn't been trying to shove my slip in my mouth after spitting all over it. 

"We are going to.... Stark Industries!"My jaw dropped, and my interest was piqued. Stark Industries!? I would do anything to work there. Its science and engineering impact worldwide is incredible. Still, it would also be awesome to work in the same building as Tony Stark. 

"Get your slips signed and handed in by Monday. No excuses. You will not be coming." Mr Harrington dismissed the class, and as everyone pools into the hallways, I stayed behind to look at Mj's drawing. 

Do I really look like that? Peaking over her shoulder, I see the shallow cheekbones of a boy who hasn't eaten in days; the washed expression on my face makes me look weaker and fragile. After glancing back down at my crumpled permission slip, I head to the desk to grab a new one, slipping one into my bag, looking out into the hallway, hoping Flash had already left. I start walking down the corridors to the street. To home.