"Dammit," I muttered to myself. I was trying to copy my dad's JARVIS program (yes, my dad is Tony Stark) and adapt it into my own version, but something went wrong. There were bugs all over the software, and everything was riddled with dead code. This was going to take a while to untangle.
I was in my own world, headphones in and hunched over my computer. As frustrating as it could get, this was my favorite thing to do. There was nothing more satisfying than beating a problem you'd been working on for hours.
I was so focused on my work, I didn't notice my dad come into the room. I only looked up when I felt a tap on my shoulder.
"Hey," I said, pulling out my headphones and leaning back to look up at him.
"Hey. Don't you need to get going? The last day of the MIT pre-college program is today."
"Yeah, but not for another..." I glanced at the clock and, to my horror, it was about an hour later than I realized. "...twenty minutes. Crap! We're presenting our final projects today! I have to hurry! I have to change!"
"Good luck," my dad said, turning to head out of the room.
"Wait!" I put on my best 'pretty please' face. "Can I borrow one of the suits? Just to make sure I'm not late?"
"No. No way."
"C'mon Dad! Pretty please!" I bat my eyelashes and tried my best to look like a sweet, angelic daughter.
My dad rolled his eyes. "Fine. But this is the last time!"
"Yes! Thanks Dad!" I ran over and gave him a quick hug, then sprinted off to get ready. My commute was going to be shorter now, but I still had to get together all my final materials for my presentation.
The MIT pre-college program brought together a bunch of young tech-geniuses and set us loose to solve complex problems with code, engineering, and physics. Normally, the program was for seniors only, but I was being allowed to participate at fifteen.
The same age my dad had been admitted to and started college for real.
My dad was a teenage prodigy, and as cool as that was, it also kinda sucked. People would always compare me to my father, and honestly, I just wasn't at the same level as him.
It didn't help that my dad was constantly putting pressure on me. I knew he meant well, but with all the checking in on my projects and telling me I should start thinking about college, I was about ready to burst.
All the same, this pre-college program had been awesome. As crazy as it sounds to enjoy any kind of school in August, I was having a blast. I'd gotten some space from my dad's hovering, built some cool projects, and made some good friends.
And now I might be late to the final presentation.
I threw the last of my materials into a bag and raced down to the garage, where Dad kept all the suits. I sprinted over to the Mark 27 (ugliest paint job, most useful ability: chameleon camouflage) and took off as soon as JARVIS had booted up.
"Hello, Miss Stark," he said.
"Hey JARVIS. Could you engage camo mode for me?"
"Certainly."
The suit faded to match the city and sky. I was flying fast, but I realized too late that the bag I was carrying wouldn't be camo with me. Oh well. It wouldn't be the strangest thing the people of New York had seen.
I landed behind the stage on campus and stashed the suit in the bushes before sprinting to my team, who were clustered around our final project: an electric flying car.
"Finally! We thought you weren't going to make it!" exclaimed one of my teammates, Alana.
"Sorry! I lost track of time."
"Who cares? You're here now, and we're about to destroy the other team," added one of my other teammates, Dale.
"Yeah... I still think it would've been better if we'd added an AI interface," Jackson, my third and final teammate, remarked with a pointed glance at me. He was my age, allowed into the program early like I was, but unlike me he'd let it get to his head.
"Sorry Jackson, but JARVIS tech is a little above my skill level." My earlier coding disaster from just trying to copy the program proved that.
"Alright, well, let's get out on stage. It's time to win this thing!" Dale cut in, smoothing over the tension. I'd made some good friends here, but Jackson wasn't one of them.
I was our main presenter, so I led us out onstage, doing my best to ignore the blinding lights. I'd gotten used to them, being Tony Stark's daughter and all.
I smiled at the crowd and the judges, waving at both as I took my place in the middle of the stage.
"Hello! And good morning to all of you. I think I recognize most of the faces I'm seeing, since many of you have been with us for the whole pre-college program. I think I can say safely we've all had a blast, and I'm sure our final project will top anything you've seen so far or will see in the future. We've invented an electric, flying car!"
That was Jackson's cue to drive out on stage, and he followed the plan perfectly, pulling up next to me and then hopping out to wave.
"That's right! The future is here! Imagine, no more pot holes, hydroplaning, slipping and sliding, or bumps in the road. Driving will be safer, roads will be much less expensive with almost non-existent maintenance costs, and the electric power will make it eco-friendly!"
Jackson moved forward to do his part of the presentation, and my other teammates delivered their pieces perfectly, too. We fielded a few questions from the judges and audience, and everything went off without a hitch.
Now I was getting nervous.
Nothing ever happened for me without something going wrong in the weirdest way possible. At the third-grade spelling bee, the microphone had flown across the room when we were about to get the last word. Before the eighth-grade dance, I went to my closet to find my nice, blue dress was suddenly violently orange and green.
Although, I really couldn't complain that much. Most of the time, the crazy incidents worked out in my favor. I'd been on the verge of a panic attack at the spelling bee (I'd since learned to deal with my nerves), and I hadn't really wanted to go to the dance in the first place (my friends were forcing me). Not to mention the countless Stark functions it had gotten me out of.
By now, I'd kinda gotten used to the crazy. Still, it would be better for everybody if nothing weird happened tonight.
Once our presentation was over, we sat down to watch the other team go up. They had a great pitch, also with a cool project (a smart-house system), and I could tell the scores were going to be close.
"They did good," Alana muttered.
"Don't worry, we did better," Dale said, trying to reassure us.
I sat in silence, watching the judges confer. I tapped my foot up and down nervously and tried not to squirm too much in my seat. I was so nervous, it felt like my stomach was twisting in on itself. I wanted to win so badly! I couldn't stand to lose after everything we did. I almost didn't want to hear the results.
My anticipation was nothing compared to the happenings next to the judges. To my horror, the smart-house system suddenly short circuited, blowing up a puff of dark smoke and setting the alarm blaring. The smoke set off the fire alarm, and then the fire sprinklers, which quickly fried our electric car. The entire room fell to chaos in seconds.
"No," I muttered to myself. "No no no no no."
Everyone jumped out of their chairs, judges included, and started moving for the exits. I took deep breaths, trying not to panic. Maybe there was still something I could do.
I looked wildly around the room, which was now mostly empty, trying to come up with some idea that could save this somehow. Nothing came.
"Alexa! Come on, we need to go!" Dale gently but firmly grabbed my arm, leading me out of the room with everyone else. We were left standing on the sidewalk outside, watching the blaring alarms as the sprinklers sent splashes of water against the windows.
"Oh my God," I groaned, putting my head in my hands and sinking down onto the curb. Why did something like this always have to happen?
****************
After the fire trucks showed up and everything went back to normal, the judges declared a postponement of the winner announcement and we were all told to go home. Our projects and the notes had been almost completely ruined (water didn't mix with paper and electronics), so nobody was sure we'd even have a winner.
I sulked back to the suit in the bushes and went straight home, not even taking the time for a quick flight above the clouds. I returned the suit to its place in the garage and trudged up the stairs to the living room.
As I came up the last few steps, I could hear voices coming from the living room.
"Nothing 'weird' has happened in years!" my dad's voice yelled.
"Are you sure about that Mr. Stark?" asked another voice I didn't recognize.
I came fully into the room before my dad could respond, walking over to him and the guy he was with. I was still soaking wet from the sprinklers, and not in the best mood.
"What happened to you?" Dad asked, looking me over.
"The presentation was a disaster. Everything went wrong when the judging was about to start. The stupid smart house just blew up out of nowhere, set off the sprinklers, and ruined all our projects and notes. Everything was destroyed, and now we might not even get a result."
My dad looked shocked, but the other guy just looked at him like 'See?'. I wasn't sure I liked this guy.
"You can't deny it any longer Mr. Stark," said the guy.
"I'm sorry, but who are you?" I asked, feeling a little frustrated.
"My name is Agilbert Fontaine."
I frowned. I couldn't believe that was a real name, and it also didn't answer my question. I turned to my dad.
"Dad?"
He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "You know what? Screw it. He's the headmaster of a wizarding school in Massachusetts."
"Yeah, okay Dad. Sure," I scoffed, turning to head for my room. "Great joke, but I've kinda had a long day, so..."
"Alexa, this is not a joke. Come back here."
I whirled around and gave him my best bratty teenager 'really?' look.
"You seriously expect me to believe anything about that sentence you just said?"
"Yes. That's why I said it. Come back over here, we have to deal with this."
"What, with a fake wizarding school? There's no such thing!" I exclaimed, but I came back over to the couch anyway.
"People would've said that about arc technology, even a few years ago."
"Yeah, but that's science! There's an explanation and a why. 'Magic' is how people in the dark ages explained things before they had logic. It's not real."
Before my dad could say a word, the Agilbert guy pulled out a stick and waved it through the air. I didn't know why, until I turned back to my dad and saw that he now had bright pink hair.
My mouth dropped open. I had enough sense to get a picture to immortalize the moment, but otherwise my brain had shut down.
Dad was right. We did have to deal with this.