Peter & Bucky Are Pals

Chapter 14

"If you’re a dick to our precious Petey, I’ll throw you down the garbage chute!" (-Clint)
Peter steeled himself before making his way past the block of lockers where Flash and his friends hung out every morning, prepared to ignore the imminent “Good morning, Penis!”. When it didn’t come, he was so surprised that he stopped and turned to look at the gang of boys, who hadn’t even realized he was there. They seemed to be busy pinning a shiny-haired boy that Peter had never seen before against a locker. Peter only hesitated for a moment before marching up, arms crossed.

“Leave him alone!”

Flash sneered. “Or what, Penis? Gonna get your mommy to threaten me? Wait, she’s not even your mom.”

“You’re only mad because that worked,” Peter replied. “Leave this guy alone, he didn’t do anything.”

“I don’t think we will, Penis. We’re just having so much fun, y’know?”

“What’s going on here?” a booming voice called, and Peter was pleased to see that Flash scurried back, cowed by Principal Morita. The new boy dusted off his clothes, giving the principal a toothy smile.

“Nothing, mister.”

“Are you sure? It looked like these boys were bothering you.”

“It’s not a big deal,” the boy said, shrugging. “Do you know where room 117 is? I tried to ask these dudes, but they’re not very friendly. Except for the one that got called Penis.”

Peter turned red, and Mr. Morita raised his eyebrows. “Well, I’m sure Peter knows where 117 is. He can take you.”

“Sure,” Peter squeaked, hurrying off with the new kid behind him.

“You’re Peter?” the kid asked. Peter nodded. “Cool. I’m Ned.”

“Nice to meet you,” Peter managed. Social interaction, still not one of his fine skills. Luckily, Ned didn’t seem to mind.

“Why do they call you Penis? They seem more like dicks than you do.”

Peter’s eyes widened, and he let out a surprised little laugh. “I don’t really know. They’ve been doing it for years.”

“That sucks, man. Why did you stop? Most people would’ve kept walking.”

“It didn’t seem right to leave you,” he said, shrugging. “It’s usually me that they pick on.”

“Dude, that’s really nice of you. Thanks,” said Ned.

“No problem,” Peter replied, cheeks tinging pink. “You said room 117, right?”

“Yep. Spanish with… Mr. Avocado?”

Peter snorted, covering his mouth. “Señor Alcaldo. Don’t let him hear you say that.”

“Good to know,” Ned said, grinning. “What class do you have?”

“Same as you,” said Peter, and Ned looked pleased.

“Awesome. I hate not knowing anybody.”

“I wish I didn’t know anybody,” Peter sighed. Ned gave him a sympathetic pat on the arm.