Chapter Text
John Jonah Jameson hated teenagers. Well, not teenagers themselves. But he hated how loud they were. He hated how they always had an opinion about things. (Leave that to the grown-ups.) He hated how they smelled like cheap perfume and deodorant. And how everything was “too boring” or “cringe” to them.
Maybe becoming a PE and English teacher hadn’t been his best idea. But, when he was a teenager, it turned out that he was only good at sports and writing. And because he was a teenager nobody had cared about his opinion and thus never read anything he wrote. So he thought he’d shape the minds of kids and show them how great language and fitness could be.
Kids, though. Not teenagers who got worse each year. And puberty just seemed to hit earlier these days. Mr. Jameson counted the days until his retirement with impatience.
He sneezed.
He wished having a bad day was enough reason for the universe to give him good things. But turns out instead it gave him a cold. He sneezed again. His eyes were all itchy as well. Weirdly, it felt more like allergies, than a cold. But the only things he was allergic to were cats and dogs. And both weren’t present in his English class.
The students were taking a pop quiz on poetry. So he had hoped to have those 45 minutes for himself and his thoughts alone. Turns out, however, those teenagers felt the need to stink up the place with their deodorants and talk to each other and eat chocolate bars! All things he explicitly forbade them. And they did not forget about it because there was a list on the classroom wall, clearly stating the class rules. There were 50 of them and the students knew that breaking them would not be good for their grades. However, a sneezy Mr. Jameson was not as scary as a healthy one and so today his students chose to live by their own rules.
Peter Parker loved pop quizzes. He also loved English class. Well, English class in general, not English class with Mr. Jameson. Mr. Jameson was Peter's number one enemy. And that meant something, because he was not just a regular high schooler but also famous New York superhero Spiderman. Yeah, THE spiderman! (Don’t spill the beans, please!)
Having to fight the green goblin was not great, but at least Peter could punch him and feel better afterwards. He couldn’t punch Mr. Jameson. Of course, he did not actually want to because Mr. Jameson was just a mean teacher, not a murderer. But he was so unfair to Peter! He picked on him any chance he got. And Peter’s grades were really good – except in English class with Mr. Jameson.
Anyway, Peter was taking a pop quiz in English class with Mr. Jameson, and it would be fine, really, because usually JJJ – that’s what the students secretly called him – left them in peace when there was a test. Today, however, was different, because Peter’s backpack kept meowing.
Okay, so Peter had a cat with him in class. And he put it in his backpack where it was obviously not happy. He didn’t have any choice, though! The white cat was kind of pestering him. He didn’t know why it kept coming to school. He fed it like once, and ever since it came to him regularly and followed him around in school. And sure, that sounds like a dream for a school kid, but turns out teachers don’t want cats in their classroom and it became a problem. So, now Peter was a problem. And he couldn’t afford that. He needed good grades to get a good job. To make money, to pay back his aunt May.
May, a literal angel, if you asked Peter, gave him so much. After his parents died, she was there for him, became like a second mom to him and turned her whole life around so he could have a good childhood – as much as that is possible for an orphan.
But money had always been tight. It still was. So Peter wanted to pay her back. Give her the comfortable life she deserved. And for that he needed good grades. And for that he needed the teachers to like him. And for that he needed to get rid of the cat in the backpack. Wait, that sounded like he was gonna murder it. He needed to let the cat out of the bag– backpack.
Peter crossed out the last of the multiple choice squares and stood up hastily. Which led to his table falling over and his pencils rolling all over the floor.
“Parker!“ Mr. Jameson growled. His eyes were piercing through Peter, who froze, chaos all around him. He wanted to tidy up, but what if JJJ didn’t want him to move? The class fell silent. Everyone waited to see how this would play out. Then, from Peter’s backpack it came:
“Meow.“
‘Shoot!’ Peter thought.
“A-chooo!” Mr. Jameson made.
Hadn't it been Mr. Jameson, Peter would have almost called the sneeze 'adorable’. Peter had to actively keep his face from smiling. Naturally, JJJ was furious.
“Open your bag, Parker!” he snarled, and Peter knew, now the cat really was out of – oh, you know.
Slowly, with unsure steps, he slalomed through the legs of his flipped table and tried not to step on his pencils. In much too little time, for his taste, he arrived at Mr. Jameson’s desk and put his backpack on it. JJJ sneezed again. And again.
“Open! Hatchoo! It!” he squeezed in between sneezes.
Peter did and the white cat jumped out like a lightning bolt. It ran around the class, and up the walls, as far as it could, clearly excited about its new-found freedom. The students were squeaking and laughing. The pop quiz was over, it seemed. But Peter didn’t look at them. He looked at Mr. Jameson, his allergy-red eyes full of a lunatic’s fury and his mustache quivering angrily.
“M- Mr. Jameson, I, uh, I can expl-” Peter started to whisper, but he didn’t get far.
A scream echoed through the school. Principal Sam Wilson looked up from his work. It sounded a bit like a name. As a principle used to working with Mr. Jameson, he was quite good at deciphering the names in echoed screams. This one sounded a lot like… Parker. Sam rolled his eyes. In the past, Peter Parker was a name the teachers used for bragging. “Yes, Parker is in my class. Yes, I’ve never seen a kid understand Pythagoras this fast.” Sometimes it was used to chide other students. “I know you are one of the kids who bully Peter Parker.” But lately Peter seemed to become a problem and Sam didn’t know why.
He needed to have a word with the kid.