~Iron Family~

New Family

The car ride was quiet.

At least, at one end of the car. Andrew Davis asked Peter a thousand questions, reassuring him again and again.

At least I know I can jump out of the car if I don't like this, Peter thought, thanking his powers for the second time that day.

"I know how overwhelming this can be," Andrew consoled. "I was a foster kid myself, along with my brothers, Aaron and Jefferson."

Aaron Davis, Peter suddenly thought. He'd seen the name once on the news--he didn't remember much about it, only that it'd been a crime. That didn't reassure him very much.

Peter tried his best to remain calm, but he couldn't. As the car pulled into the parking lot of the children's center, his heart was racing. What would they do? Put him in an orphanage?

Andrew opened the door for Peter, gesturing for him to step out. He did so slowly, pulling nervously on his backpack strap. Andrew fished Ben's old suitcase from the trunk.

"I can carry that," Peter said quickly. "You don't have to."

"You sure?" Andrew asked, handing him the suitcase. Peter nodded and took it mutely.

They began their walk to the entrance. The door seemed to glare down at him as they neared it, the dark glass reflecting Peter's terrified expression. There were smiling star stickers and rainbows plastered on the door, along with the center's hours. Andrew yanked on the handle and held it open for him.

He stepped over the threshold and was instantly hit by the smell of hand sanitizer and crayons. He was directed by a smiling woman at the front desk to a large waiting area.

It was clearly designed for kids. Different sections of the wall were painted bright orange, pink, and yellow. Red helium balloons were tied to the matching chairs, various white geometrical shapes speckling the gray carpet. Toys were stored in purple bins along one wall and coloring pages were scattered across a small plastic table. There were two little girls coloring at it, but they paid Peter no attention as he sat down in a yellow chair.

"You must be Peter Parker?" a woman asked as she approached. She had long dark red hair and lines around her eyes that wrinkled when she smiled.

"Uh...yeah," Peter nodded.

"Perfect," the woman wrote some things down on a pad of paper. "All right, sweetie, we'll figure out something soon. I'm Ms. Rachel O'Connor."

She scanned her paper again and raised her eyebrows. "Happy early birthday!"

"Wait, what?" Peter blinked in confusion. With all that had been going on lately, he'd forgotten what month it was.

"Today is August seventh!" Rachel explained excitedly. "Says your DOB is the tenth?"

"Oh," Peter mumbled, not sharing in her enthusiasm.

"Alright," Rachel scanned her papers again. "You should be headed to a temporary foster home, just for this 'emergency,' until we can figure out something more permanent. Unless you like it there. The wait shouldn't be long."

"What about...school?" Peter dared to ask.

"Well, we'll enroll you to the standard public school," Rachel explained, popping Peter's hopes like a balloon. "Unless your new temporary foster family is willing to pay for tuition at MSST, which says here it's the school you previously attended. But it'll all work out, sweetie."

She gave him one last smile before heading off.

Peter knew it was unfair to hate someone just because of news they relay to you, but Peter couldn't help despising the way the woman called him 'sweetie' and told him everything was going to be okay. Only Aunt May did that.