𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐊 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐄, peter parker

one - mystic arts & pop tarts

oo. ONE

NADINE HOLT WAS SURE OF TWO THINGS. The first, she hates math. And the second, the mystical arts hate her. Or at least, that's what the box of pop tarts that had been seared in half told her. Orange particles had closed in around it, a portal closing far too early. She was just lucky it wasn't her hand... although, Nadine highly doubted she could convince her mother to buy more pop tarts given all the grief her Uncle Raymond had given them.

He wasn't the most expressive man, but the twitch of his eye as he caught them being toasted on Saturday told Nadine more than enough.

She really wished she had a Mystic Arts teacher that she could email, right now. But she didn't, so Nadine was forced to tread the waters of magic on her own — this was something that her Uncle definitely couldn't teach her.

Given the state of her pop tarts, Nadine figured it was probably best to walk to school today — she didn't feel like being cut in half by her own dodgy portals. How would she even begin to explain that one?

"Nadine! Your uncle wants to know if you need a ride to school?" shouted her mother, sounding slightly impatient. Raymond had probably interrupted one of her stories, again.

"I'm okay, going to walk today!" Nadine shouted in reply, before making her way down the hall and into the kitchen, where her mother stood on the landline.

"No, Ray-Ray, I asked her. She's going to walk." said Nadine's mom, Debbie. "I've already had the talk, yes, and with Marcus."

The one-sided conversation was too hard for Nadine to follow at that time in the morning, but she gathered it was likely just her Uncle being concerned for her well-being, which wasn't an unusual occurrence. She focused on making herself some toast, covering it in butter and cutting it into four triangles.

"Yes, alright. I love you too, Ray-Ray." Her mother said, before ending the call and turning around with a sigh. "My brother, always so dramatic! I told him a hundred times, I've had the talk."

"I know, Momma, but you know how he gets," she took a bite of her toast, "Especially with his job, and all the things he sees."

"Yeah, you're right, you're right! What did I do to get stuck with such a smart daughter, huh?" She asked lightheartedly, grinning and patting Nadine's cheek. "Must've been that food drive back in '92."

"Must've been." Nadine agreed with a small laugh, before packing her lunch into her lunchbox, and putting all of her school materials into her tan rucksack — it was falling apart, and her mom had already had to sew one strap back onto it, but she loved it.

After collecting her latest stack of maths notes, Nadine finished her toast and dropped the butter knife into the sink. Kissing her mom on the cheek, she finally left the apartment, not quite prepared for the day ahead.

"Be careful!" Debbie yelled out as the apartment door closed, rattling the walls around her.

Nadine smiled, and fished her headphones out of her bag, pressing play and beginning to make her way to school.

oo

NADINE SHOULD'VE EXPECTED HER MATH TEACHER'S EXPRESSION. It's her worst subject, and this is not a secret. She struggles, and it's hard, and Mr. Jenkins is no help, even after all the emails she sends him, riddled with queries and expressing her confusion.

But she didn't expect the exasperation or disappointment on his face this Monday morning — she hadn't emailed him since last Thursday, what could he possibly be disappointed about?