Orphic | Spider-Man

THREE

I'M NOT GOING. Too bad." Octavia shrugged before sticking a forkful of chocolate chip pancakes into her mouth.
      Otto tilted his head at her with his lips pursed. "You're going."
      Octavia sat back in the chair at the kitchen table, her brows furrowed as she chewed her pancakes and crossed her arms. "Why?" she asked once her mouth was free of food. "I hate Oscorp's banquets, and so do you." Her eyes narrowed at her father across the table. "Why is this banquet any different?"
      "You're coming because. . ." Otto's eyes scanned his empty breakfast plate, and then the paperwork in front of him that he decided not to finish late into the night. He sighed, sitting back into his chair, running a hand through his black curls. "You're going to kill me when I tell you this, but the CEO of Vibrant--you know, our partner in funding--is bringing his son, and he wouldn't make a meeting with me if his son didn't get a chance to meet you--"
      Octavia nearly choked on her glass of apple juice. Through coughing she shouted, "OH MY GOD!" she coughed some more. "You're setting me up with another CEO's kid? This sounds like a trashy romance novel." Standing up from the kitchen table, Octavia grabbed her plate and her father's, then approached the kitchen.
      "You're not expecting anything to come out of this, right?" Octavia asked. "The least I'll do is make him an acquaintance, and that's the nicest thing I can do in this situation."
      "Perhaps make him a friend?" Otto forced a fake chuckle.
      "Who's Vibrant's CEO?"
      "Charles Cockholder."
      "That's a very unfortunate name."
      "Indeed. Nowhere near as unfortunate as Octavia Octavius." Otto tilted his head with a smirk.
      "It was just tiring having to explain to people that yes, that is my real name, and it's because I was born on the eighth day of the eighth month. And that my last name also literally translates to eight." Octavia paused at the sink, thinking. "Oh my God. You named me Eight Eight."
      "It was your mother's idea," Otto chuckled. "But that's the type of friendly conversation to make between you and Charles Cockholder Jr. at the banquet next Saturday night."
      Octavia laughed as she started rinsing the plates off. "Fine. But if he wants to pursue something, I'm deeply sorry to say that Vibrant and Oscorp will not be in partnership anymore." She looked over at her father and made a very pronounced, very big frown.
      Otto chuckled and looked back to his papers, but Octavia's phone flashing a very silly picture of Peter flashed on her screen.
      "Darling," Otto said, adjusting his circular glasses on his nose. "Peter is calling you."
      Octavia scoffed, "Let it ring."
      "He didn't call you again?"
      "He texted me and told me to call him. He apologized in the same text too." Octavia scoffed.
      Otto sighed, looking back at his papers. "I'm more upset that he didn't go home right away. What on earth could he have been doing between the shooting and then? I wonder if he's beginning to slip."
      "Slip?" Octavia asked, leaving the plates in the sink and drying her hands.
      "Yes," Otto picked up a piece of paper and brought it closer to his face to read. "When he's over here with you doing homework, he often talks about his grades rising and falling. I hope he's doing okay."
      Octavia bit the inside of her cheek as she approached the fridge. Otto was right, Peter had recently been talking about failing a few tests, forgetting to turn things in and starting projects the night before they're due. As she opened the fridge and grabbed the container of apple juice, she walked back over to the kitchen table and took her seat.
      "That won't hurt Peter with his internship, will it?" she asked.
      Otto shook his head, not looking as worried as Octavia while his eyes scanned the papers. "Not unless he fails most of his classes." His brown eyes looked over at Octavia. "Just because you two are close doesn't mean I won't allow him to keep his internship."
      Octavia nodded. "No, I know."
      Otto could see the worry in his daughter's eyes from the way she glanced at her phone with the notifications of the missed call and ignored texts from Peter. She was biting her bottom lip every few seconds. She hadn't poured herself a new glass of apple juice yet either.
      "I'm sure Peter's just in a rut, darling," Otto said with a small shrug. "Just like how you get sometimes every year, it's a moping period that high school gives you."
      "Yeah, but Peter has never been like this." Octavia said, finally pouring herself a new glass of juice. "The only other time he was acting this strange was last year, sort of around this time I think. I had to talk him down over the phone."
      "Maybe he needs you to do it again." Otto told her, tilting his head and raising his brow. He nudged his head towards her phone. "Give that boy a call. He needs to hear from you."