Y/n is still reeling from aftermath of the Civil War. For now, her life is normal: go to school, go on patrol, hangout with friends... just your typical everyday activities when you're a young Avenger.
But the peace doesn't last.
One night, her an...
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"Has anyone seen my briefcase?" Mom asks from the living room, lifting a couch cushion to look for it.
"On the shelf beside the TV," my sister Sabrina answers, not looking up from her phone.
"Oh, right," mom laughs when she finds it. "I might be a little late today. I want to interview the person who saw the Emerald Enchantress outside their building last night."
Ah, last night. I remember that well. You see, some masked vigilante held up a young girl, demanding she hand over everything she owned etc. etc. classic robbery in a dark alleyway at midnight.
I had the whole situation under control. Exchanged some words with the man in black, threw in some sarcastic quips, levitated the gun out of his hand. He turned tail and ran, and I was just about to nab him when freaking Spider-Man swung down out of nowhere and webbed the guy up.
I told Spider-Man to get lost, that Manhattan was my territory, but he didn't agree. He claimed his territory stretched from all of Queens and into the east side of Manhattan and northern Brooklyn. Well, while we were fighting, the man escaped.
"I better get to the station," mom said, looking at the clock. "Your dad will be home at 7. Here's you both some money to buy supper after school since I won't be home. I'll see you girls later! Love you!"
"Bye! Love you, too," I say. She rushes out the door, leaving only Sabrina and I. "So..." I begin, "are you going to drive me to school? Or do I have to take the bus?"
She rolls her hazel eyes. "I've graduated. You're on your own."
"But—"
"No buts." She scoots back in her chair, the wood scraping across the tile flooring. "I have to go pick up Callum. He said we'd go on a picnic." She slings her purse over her shoulder and walks out the door.
"How considerate of you," I mumble to myself.
My backpack lies on the floor, completely empty. My textbooks strewn across Egypt from when I was rooting around for a single pencil. I should probably get some more come to think of it.
In a rush, I throw a PB&J in my bag for lunch, then all my textbooks on top, which I realize wasn't the smartest move. I put the money mom left me into my pocket, then hurry to the bus stop.
It isn't a school bus. Just a plain old gross city bus. I take it to Queens, then walk a block from the bus stop to school. It really isn't a bad ride as long as there aren't any creeps on board. Which even then, I'm pretty confident I could handle myself.
