Peter's POV:
Michael came back to get them after a long and stressful practice. Waiting was the worst part of every competition - more nerve-wracking than when they actually performed. It was over now. All they needed to do was win. Peter and his teammates were chatting nervously as they walked. He saw fingers drumming on thighs, and heard uncontrolled giggles and math formulas muttered lowly. As their guide led them nearer to where the contest would start, a catharsis of anxiousness burst over them.
Then Michael ushered them inside, and Peter's jitters reached their zenith. They had walked into a theater. A stage the size of Peter's apartment was decked in warm blue lights, looking out over a sea of red, velvet chairs. It looked as though two thousand people could sit there and the room still wouldn't be full. He sat on a wooden stool behind a long, wooden table on the stage. There were three tables, one to accommodate each team. His table was off-center to the left, slanted so that every member was visible to the other groups, and the layout was mirrored with the other two tables. Peter couldn't help but feel like some kind of prey, staring into a mouth full of teeth, helplessly waiting to be devoured whole.
"Good luck, guys! I'll be rooting for you, so you know," Michael said with an encouraging smile on his face.
'Oh, well if Michael is rooting for us then we'll be fine! That's really all we needed to know, and now that we do know it'll be no trouble to win! Obviously,' Peter thought to himself.
"But really, you will all be fine. The other teams are coming in now so I have to go, but I'll be waiting for you afterwards. Bye!" Michael waved at them all one last time before departing. He walked off of the stage and out the door, though it wouldn't be the last time Peter saw Michael, not that he knew it at the time.
As the other teams filed in and sat down, Peter examined them closely and wrote down what he saw on a slip of paper. His findings were as followed:
Rival 1:
- They all wear shades of red and black
- They don't talk to each other, rather stay quiet and stare off into the mouth of teeth waiting to swallow us whole
- They don't look at us, which could either be a very clever tactic or a very stupid idea; people always say to size up your enemy, but not to underestimate anyone. Would it be better to not look at your competitors at all, and therefore not make any fatal assumptions that could lead to your downfall?
- They go to a very prestigious high school known for the ungodly amount of pressure and homework inflicted upon their students
Overall conclusion on rival 1: They will be a difficult and worthy opponent. The red on their uniforms remind me of blood. They don't seem very friendly.
Rival 2:
- They're wearing shorts and skirts and knee-length dresses... in the middle of winter.
- One girl has a sticker of a bunny on her shirt. To quote one of my favorite movies, you should never trust a bunny. I don't trust her.
- Some of them are already taking notes, which makes me think that they're doing what I'm doing, which makes me a bit put-off, to be honest. What are they writing about? What do they think my team looks like?
- They go to another good high school. They're known for being sensible and having good common-sense, but I can't seem to believe that at this moment in time. Maybe that was a rumor.
Overall conclusion on Rival 2: Rival 2 seems more laid back than Rival 1. I'd like to talk to some of the people taking notes when this is over and ask to compare, although not the bunny girl. Never trust a bunny.
Peter wasn't exactly sure what his notes were useful for, other than to pass time and ignore the nerves, but he'd been doing it ever since he'd joined the decathlon team. He quietly stowed the paper away in his jeans pocket and looked into the mouth of teeth. In the first row there now sat two people. Both wearing huge oval glasses and carrying clipboards, they reminded him of fish. Poor fishies, already eaten. It was too late to save them.
Tony Stark had yet to make an appearance and it was ten minutes past nine. The two judges were discussing something, heads bowed. Peter strained his ears and caught snippets of the conversation.
"-should just start. He's probably not even going to come," said one judge. Their hair was tied up in a loose bun on top of their head. The bun wobbled as its owner shook their head slowly left and right.
"You're right but... and we don't want to be rude and start without..." the second judge was much harder to hear, speaking so softly that he must've been barely making a sound at all.
They finally agreed on a course of action, by this time Stark was nearly 20 minutes late, and the one with the wobbly bun stood up and cleared their throat.
"Ehem. Hello, students! Welcome to the Stark Decathlon Competition! This event and the outcome will be broadcasted on local news stations, which you all agreed to when you signed the papers if you remember. Unfortunately, Stark doesn't seem to be coming - or at least, he's going to be very late - so we shall start without him. First topic: Geography."
The questions started out easy, by Peter's standards at least, then gradually increased in difficulty. Geography was his least favorite subject by far, mainly because he was absolutely horrible at it. He answered a couple of the questions in the beginning, but left the majority to the rest of his team. Rival 1 excelled at the first category.
Halfway through the second topic (maths), Stark finally arrived. He rushed over to the judges and spoke to them in low tones, apologizing for being late. From so far away, he looked like another fish - no different from the other two, no closer to being saved.
Math was more Peter's speed. He and his teammates answered the questions rapidly, only losing a couple answers to the enemy schools. Some of the questions were on a whole other level of difficulty, and one of them Peter recognized from his conversation with Stark. He didn't answer that question, since there was an unfair advantage.
Next was history, which was mainly a competition between Rival 1 and 2, since his school's history teacher was lax on rules to the point of them being nonexistent.
Then was science. Questions from every branch of it, smooshed into one category. Peter was great at the chemistry questions after researching the topic for months to make his webs. Physics was also one of his favorite subjects, mainly because he liked to see how many rules he could defy. However he sucked at biology. But no one talks about that. Shh.
There were 5 questions left before the winner was declared and the other teams would have to withstand the walk of shame at their schools the next day. Tony Stark looked at the scores and grinned, and Peter thought of what that could mean. Maybe it meant Stark was happy the competition would be over soon, and was getting ready to rush out of the room and get back to his workshop. Or maybe he was practicing his 'congrats, you won! I'm so happy for you and I care so much about this!' Face. Or maybe it meant nothing and Peter was zoning out of the contest when he should be focusing on finding the answer. Right.
The last question was put forth, a chemistry one thank god, and Peter answered it without a second thought. The three judges stood up solemnly, bowed their heads and whispered something, then stared at the groups on stage.
Words were uttered from Stark's mouth, but they didn't compute in Peter's brain. Then people were screaming, Ned was hugging him so hard he thought he might pass out, and there was Stark wearing a grin as if to say, 'congrats, you won!! This is truly something I care about and I am so happy for you!'.
Peter laughed in disbelief, still struggling to take in everything happening around him. His senses felt like they were conflagrant, the blue lights suddenly blinding him. He laughed louder still, breathing out the fear and anxieties that had had him encumbered for the whole competition. He plunged himself into the thill wave that left his team natant and washed the three judges, the three fish that couldn't be saved, to safety. Peter was patted on the back and congratulated on his part in the win by his teammates. Then the judges came over and talked to them, Tony Stark smiling proudly all the while.
They would get to visit the avengers compound in two weeks time. Ned and MJ spoke to him excitedly, well Ned was excited at least, of all the things they could see. The team made their way out of the building and onto the bus. Peter watched as Ned waved goodbye to the building from the window seat, and hugged his memory of the day close, not wanting to forget the time he'd been inside THE Stark Tower.
So the competition is over (that is DEFINITELY not how they normally happen, but this was a special competition that doesn't follow the normal rules because it's sponsored by my imagination). Now comes a visit to the compound... and what else? (Dun dun dunnnnnn)
Never trust a bunny.