Chapter Text
Mr. Harrington had a knack for making important announcements with the same energy as someone who was reading the attendance list.
"Right, guys," he said, lightly tapping a stack of papers on the table to line them up. "Before we start class, I have a statement from the principal."
The tenth grade class at the Midtown School of Science and Technology continued to do what they always did when the teacher spoke: absolutely nothing. Leah Fall painted her nails discreetly in the third row. Flash Thompson was leaning to the side, trying to convince his classmate next to him that his Mario Kart score was technically a world record. Betty Brant and Jason Ionello were whispering about something that probably had nothing to do with chemistry.
Peter Parker was in the middle of the room, notebook open, genuinely trying to pay attention to the class that hadn't yet started. Ned, in the chair next to him, was drawing what looked like an X-Wing with legs.
MJ, in the back row, read a book. She was always reading.
"The school was able to strike a partnership with Stark Industries," Harrington continued, and this time the room paid attention, "for a three-day excursion to Stark Tower."
The silence lasted exactly a second and a half.
After that, it was chaos.
"Really?"
"The Avengers Tower?!"
"My God, I'm going to see Iron Man's laboratory!"
"Dude, you're shaking!"
"Look at that, Penis,everyone will know you're lying."
Peter closed his eyes for a moment. Just a moment.
Okay.
"Friday, Saturday, and Sunday of next week," Harrington raised his voice over the hubbub, in-urgently, as if already expecting exactly this reaction. "It's an extraordinary opportunity, and I hope everyone behaves like the young scientists they're supposed to be."
He looked at Flash with a look that wasn't exactly hopeful.
"Now," he picked up the stack of papers, "I'm going to hand out the confidentiality agreements." Everyone needs to sign and return it by tomorrow. No signature, no trip. Simple as that.
The papers began to circulate around the room. Ned picked up his and immediately began to read it with the seriousness of someone who was signing a contract with God. Leah folded the corner of the page to save the place. Flash was already taking a picture to send to his mother.
Peter waited.
The role did not reach him.
That would be normal, considering things sometimes skipped a person in the distribution, except that Harrington had clearly finished distributing and was making his way back to the front of the room, and Peter's hand was still empty.
He looked to the side. Ned had his. MJ had hers. The girl in front had hers.
Peter had his notebook open and pen in his hand and nothing else.
Ah.
He didn't have time to decide what to do with this information because Flash Thompson, who possessed the supernatural gift of noticing anything that could be used to humiliate someone, had already turned in his chair.
"Hey," Flash said, loud enough for half the room to hear. "Even S.I knows he's been lying about the internship. You screwed up loser."
It wasn't a question. It was an announcement.
The attention of the class moved in Peter's direction with that uncomfortable synchrony that groups of teenagers sometimes had, and Peter felt the gaze of twenty people rest on him at once.
He resisted the urge to slip down in the chair.
This wasn't supposed to happen.
"I noticed too, Thompson," Harrington said, in a tone Peter could only describe as mildly entertained, which was disturbing for reasons he couldn't fully name. The teacher stared at him for a moment, then looked at the paper in his own hands. "Actually, when I received the materials from Stark Industries yesterday, this detail caught my attention as well. So I contacted the institutional relations office to ask."
The room was quiet in a way that it rarely was.
Harrington leaned against the table with that casual posture he adopted when he was about to say something he found genuinely interesting.
"The employee informed me that Parker had already signed confidentiality agreements with Stark Industries previously. Agreements that, in his words," Harrington paused briefly, and Peter had the distinct impression that the professor was enjoying it more than he should, "encompass and surpass the ones you have on your hands."
Someone in the third row let out a sound that was more a quiet shriek than a word.
"He also mentioned," Harrington continued, looking at Peter now with something close to amusement, "that he very much doubted that Parker would show up on the tour anyway."
The silence that followed had a specific texture. It was the silence of twenty teenagers processing information that didn't quite fit the model of the world they had.
Peter felt the heat rise up his face.
It wasn't shame, exactly. It was more... exasperation. The specific kind that came from having a completely absurd life and not being able to explain any detail of it to anyone.
"I..." he began, and his voice came out a tone louder than he intended. He adjusted. "Friday afternoon is laboratory day. R&D. It's my favorite, so-"
"Parker."
"I know it looks like-"
"Parker," Harrington repeated, and this time there was something almost gentle about the tone. "You don't need to explain yourself to me."
Which was, in a way, worse.
Peter closed his mouth.
"Anyway," he said, after a second, "I can try to show up for dinner. If you're going to use the main dining hall, I think that-"
"Don't count on it."
The voice came from behind. It was dry, as if it has been repeated a million times.
MJ hadn't looked up from the book.
"Michelle," Harrington said.
"I'm just offering a data-driven perspective," she replied, turning a page. "Ned, do you want to explain or do I explain?"
Ned, who looked like he was clearly on MJ's side in all this, turned to the class with the solemnity of someone who was about to share an important teaching.
"There's a rule," he said. "That we learned. It's a good rule. The rule is: never make plans with Peter after the lab."
"Ned."
"It's not personal, man," Ned said to him, sounding completely personal. "It's just that when you enter project mode, you forget to eat. You forget about time. You once texted me at eleven o'clock at night asking if I had seen your notes and when I asked where you were, you said you were still in the dark."
"Okay, thanks, Ned," Peter interrupted.
"We waited for you for two hours at last year's science fair," MJ added, serenely, without looking at the boy. "You showed up forty minutes after the fair closed with an equation written on your arm and not knowing the day of the week."
"I knew the day of the week."
"You asked if it was Tuesday."
"It was a rhetorical question-"
"It was Thursday."
Peter closed the notebook.
Ned was trying not to laugh. He was failing.
Flash Thompson, in the other row, was looking at Peter with an expression that Peter couldn't quite classify. It wasn't the usual expression of bullying, it was something closer to genuine confusion, which, in some ways, was more disturbing.
Harrington looked at the class, looked at Peter, and returned to the board with the energy of someone who had done enough for today.
"Right," he said. "Bring the agreements signed tomorrow. Now, chapter fourteen-"
The class started again.
Under the table, Peter's cell phone vibrated. He snuck a glance.
FRIDAY: Just letting you know that Mr. Stark saw the school's email about the excursion. He wants you to know that, and I'm directly quoting, "if you show up for dinner with this gang I swear I'll make you wear the full uniform to do the lab dishes for a month."
Peter looked at the message.
He looked at the ceiling.
Great.