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“Kid, you know I’m happy to help, but where are these answers even coming from?” Tony frowned at the worksheet. “I mean--what? What were you even trying to write here?”
“I know,” Kamala moaned, clutching her notebook for dear life. “I’m a lost cause, aren’t I?”
“Absolutely not,” Tony answered immediately. “You’re bright, you’re young, and you work hard. Farthest thing from hopeless. Your teacher, on the other hand…” Tony continued to study the paper he was holding, frown only deepening. “God, what is this person telling you? Let me see your notes.”
He reached out to snatch the notebook from her hands, leaving Kamala only able to squeak helplessly as he rifled through the pages.
Tony’s eyebrows shot up. “Kamala,” he said, turning the pages around to look from different angles. “You never told me you could draw.”
“I’m so sorry,” Kamala said. “I’ll never do it again.”
“Why?” Tony asked, looking up from the pages to raise his eyebrows at her. “They’re great!”
“But they’re--they’re, um…” Tony smiled at Kamala as she stammered. “They’re just doodles,” she finished weakly.
“Oh! Do you have more finished stuff somewhere?”
“No! No. I promise. I don’t do it often, or show anyone, or anything.”
“Well, you should. Show people. And do it often. I mean, only if you want to, of course. But if you enjoy something, if you’re passionate about it, you shouldn’t let anything hold you back.”
Kamala fidgeted her pencil. “Um. But there are so many incredible artists out there, and I have no idea what I’m doing. I mean, I haven’t had an art class since starting high school.”
“Hey, don’t knock auto-didacticism,” Tony said, reaching out to ruffle her hair. “I know art isn’t my thing, but I think this is all pretty impressive. Especially for a beginner.” He hummed. “Would you want to take an art class?”
Kamala rearranged the papers in front of her and stared at the study guide for her upcoming test. “There are other, more important things to focus on.”
“Right,” Tony said, voice slow and considering. “Like physics?”
“Like physics,” Kamala said, nodding.
“Okay, well, these notes are crap. We’re taking it from the top.”
Kamala’s face fell. “But I copied them straight from the board.”
“I know you did. I’m not saying it’s your fault. Can I call your school to lodge a complaint?”
“No, don’t do that.”
“Fine. Then at least spread the notes I’m about to give you around to your classmates before the AP test. For the good of humankind, Kamala.”
Kamala looked at the study guide again and bit her lip. “I don’t know if I can do this. It’s so much.”
“You can do it,” Tony said. He squeezed her shoulder. “It’ll all be okay. I’ll help you.”
Kamala nodded without saying anything, her eyes growing wet.
Tony ran his hand in circles over her back. “Deep breaths, kiddo. I know it’s overwhelming, but we’ll get through it.”
“Okay,” Kamala said, blinking back her tears.
“Good thing for you, I’m an excellent teacher,” Tony said. He flipped through the notebook again. “Unlike this guy…”
Kamala laughed, wiping at her eyes.
“You know,” Tony said, voice thoughtful. “Since you won’t be needing these notes anyway, I think I’m just gonna go ahead and take this.”
He ripped a page out of the notebook, and Kamala blanched. “You are mad!”
Tony laughed. “God, no. I’m ecstatic. I’m having this framed.”
*
“You did it!” Tony said, hugging Kamala so tightly against him that she was nearly lifted off of the ground. “I’m so proud of you.”
“You’re proud of me for passing my AP test, but not for punching the lights out of a supervillain?” Kamala laughed.
“I can be proud of you for both, Ms. Marvel,” Tony said, finally releasing her (not that she really minded). “And you didn’t just pass. You aced it, kid.” He held up his hand for a high five, and she smacked her own against it with a grin.
“This looks like favoritism,” Miles said. Tony responded by immediately turning to scoop both Miles and Sam into a giant hug.
“Shh, you know I love you all equally,” Tony said, while the boys failed to escape his clutches.
“Now, I’m feeling left out,” Kamala said, and jumped on the hug pile just when Sam was about to break free.
“Seriously, though,” Tony said, twisting so he could get an arm around Kamala’s shoulders. “I knew you could do it.”
“I couldn’t have done it without your help,” Kamala said.
“Let go of us,” Sam whined.
“C’mon, you love it,” Tony said, but he began the untangling process. “But fine, let’s go get lunch. Yes, Sam, I am buying, and you can get whatever you want. Stop raising your hand, kid. Just don’t take forever to order again; Kamala and I have somewhere to be soon.”
“We do?” Kamala asked.
“Yup,” Tony said. “And don’t try to say you’re busy. I checked the calendar.”
*
“I can’t believe I’m in Steve Rogers’s home,” Kamala said, staring around the room.
“Have you never been to Tony’s place before?” Steve--he’d told her to call him Steve--asked, eyes crinkling at the corners.
“She has,” Tony called from the kitchen. “She did this the first time there too. And the second. And the third. She still gets this kind of dazed look when we’re there sometimes.”
Kamala’s face heated up.
“That’s cute,” Steve said, smiling at her. “It’s nice to know that it’s still possible for some superheroes to retain a sense of wonder.”
“We’re jaded old men, Kamala,” Tony said, returning to dole out drinks that must have been in Steve’s fridge. “People like you are refreshing to be around.”
“Is that why you brought me here?” Kamala said, accepting the bottle from Tony.
“Nah,” Tony said, dropping onto the couch. “I brought you here because Steve is the artsiest person I know, and he is almost as good a teacher as I am.”
“Almost as good as you,” Steve said, rolling his eyes. “Thanks, Tony.”
“Hey, that’s high praise. I had her passing her physics tests with flying colors in under a month.”
“I’m here for art lessons?” Kamala asked.
“That’s what I was told,” Steve said. “Although it might just have been a cover for Tony to raid my fridge and talk about himself.”
“I can do that while you’re drawing,” Tony said, waving his hand. “I have practice, even.”
“It’d probably be distracting for her,” Steve said.
Tony stuck his tongue out. “Fine, fine, I’ll work quietly.”
“I really appreciate this,” Kamala said, wringing her hands. “Really. So much. But I’m not sure I--”
Tony tapped his knuckles against the little table beside the couch, drawing Kamala’s eyes to the frame that was displayed there.
The frame that contained her drawing--her drawing of--
Of Captain America and Iron Man--
“It’s fine if you don’t want to,” Tony said. “But if you do want to, you should.”
“Art can be a really wonderful outlet,” Steve said. “Even if you only do it for fun, I really encourage you to keep at it. It’s good to have hobbies, in our line of work.”
“I’m better at writing,” Kamala said.
“You write?” Tony asked, sitting up straight. “Do you have anything with you? Online?”
“Then again, it’s good to explore outside your comfort zone!” Kamala said with a strangled laugh. “You’re right, maybe I should give drawing a shot!”
Tony leaned back, looking extremely satisfied with himself.
Kamala frowned, pretty sure she’d just been played, but Steve was smiling like he was really excited and proud, so she couldn’t exactly back out now.
Steve put his hands on her shoulders and steered her toward another room, cheerfully saying, “My studio’s right back here.”