Chapter 3: When Life Gives You Lemons

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J. Jonah Jameson is going to have a fucking field day with this. I can see it now 'Lillian Nightshade; Assassin Turned Stalker and Pedophile, Spotted Spying on Teenagers at Midtown High'.

Also, whichever member of our team that decided that a baseball cap and hoodie turns a person into completely unidentifiable, new human being, deserves to be suspended from Avenging for a few weeks. Knowing my loveable dumbasses, it was probably Tony or Steve, hell, even more likely both.

Adorned in one of my Golden Boy's light brown leather jackets – yes it is too big for me, no I don't give a damn, go mock my height elsewhere you Wattpad potatoes – camo green hoodie underneath, plain black leggings and a worn, marginally fraying Adidas cap, I keenly observe through the dark tint of the sunglasses' lenses the hordes of pubescent teens pouring out of the school like water from floodgates. Scuffing my running shoes against the foul New York City pavement, I feel the ends of my wavy honey brown hair peek out of the hat and tickle the lower part of my collar bone, absentmindedly reminding me of the fact that I need another haircut sometime soon.

I'm now understanding how much weirder this would look if Tony Stark, a man past his middle ages, stood here in a hooded sweatshirt and low drawn cap watching kids escape the confines of their educational entrapment. Shit that would've been hilarious, I don't know who Jameson would've had more fun with now to be honest. I'm just hoping that this pitiful excuse of a disguise actually works and if I'm lucky, I won't be slapped across the front page of every copy of the Daily Bugle again anytime soon.

Before arriving to Midtown High, a quaint, standard looking high school in Forest Hills, Queens, I studied the kid's dossier in a manner as religiously as I used to study my old targets' files. Fourteen-year-old Peter Benjamin Parker grew up with his Uncle Ben and Aunt May after being orphaned at such a young age, only to lose his uncle a couple years back. Whiz of a kid, excellent in school despite it all, top of his class in almost every subject. Member of a million and one school clubs, like Christ, I didn't think it was humanely possible to be a part of that many clubs. Fan of the New York Mets, listens to indie rock bands such as Alt-J, has a serious thing for Star Wars, locker number is #1184, and according to credit card transaction histories, still owns a butt load of Star Wars Lego memorabilia. Evidently, this pure, innocent little kid really does need some mentoring in his life. I can't imagine how his social life is fairing at the moment.

Parker's dire need of social as well as hero counselling aside, the kid has his heart in the right place, at least according to everything I've read. Undoubtedly on the young side, as Tony so eloquently put it, but with a little training, guidance and experience, he could go a long way.

Today, however, is only for scouting the kid out. No mentoring, no contact, no hinting at a very slight possibility of one day being an Avenger, nothing. I mean come on, since when have I ever been the wise mentor type anyway? Hell, I'm still figuring out this hero shit for myself, I'm the least qualified person in our clique to be the Yoda to this young Skywalker. I'd probably just teach him various ways he could manipulate, murder and snark his enemies to death. Steve would be a million times more equipped and capable for this than I, why did I agree to this again?

It's fine, it's fine. I'm jumping the gun. All I'm doing is observing from afar, sussing the teen out. Nothing more, nothing less—

Finally spying the awkward teen exit the front of the school, a soft snort of amusement breathes through my nose as I take in school attire. Of course he's a sweater wearing dork, Green Machine would love him. And the hair, precious. So well kempt. I be he's one of those people that claps when the plane lands.

The kid seems to be chatting away animatedly with another student, who, if I'm not mistaken, is one Edward Leeds. Their names are always put down together for school projects and various extracurricular clubs, like two dorky peas in a pod. The more I creepily loiter outside this high school like an actual freak and properly analyse just how much work this kid needs, the more I realise just how much work this kid needs.

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