September 22, 1972
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Tick, tock, tiick, toocck, tiicckkkk, tooocckk......
"Jesus, don't do that...". Peter mumbled under his breath. It seemed the only thing he could do to a boring situation was to make it even more agonizing. It was one of the more prominent cons to being a mutant.
Currently, his boring situation was 6th period Chem. And 6th period - in Peter's mind, at least - was the absolute worst time of the day, because it was when things went the slowest. Sure it marked the last painstaking hour of school for the day, but just knowing how close he was to spending the remaining hours eating Twinkies and Ding Dong's to his heart's content just left Peter hopelessly counting the milliseconds until the ringing of the bell.
Speaking of which...He quickly glanced at the clocking hanging over the door of the classroom. Two seconds. Two seconds had passed since he'd last checked.
Oh, good God, isn't today just a wonderful thing?
He decided to change directions and try distracting himself by watching the other students enduring the same torture as he.
A couple of heads in front of him was an obnoxiously tall human being who he was pretty sure was on some kind of major steroid. Trying to get a glimpse of the chalkboard was always challenge he was sure he would always lose.
Directly to his left was a girl who always wore to much makeup and had a increasing obvious baby bump (though that did not discourage her from wearing clothes that always seemed to be half suffocating her).
To his right -
"Mr. Maximoff, care to tell the class the correct formula for PbSO4?" Mr. Garvin gave Peter a thin-lipped smile, emphasizing his cracked skin and miles-deep wrinkles. His liverspotted hands were held together by his boney figures, each with their own half inch claw colored a sickning yellow.
His eyes looked upon Peter with a gleaming, glassy stare. But unfazed, Peter quickly put his brain into high gear, and gave the dragon (as he so lovingly named his Chemistry teacher) his answer.
"Lead II Sulfate", he said with a confident grin. The dragon failed to return the smile, though seemed to mumble some sort of thanks as he turned back to his messy handwriting on the board.
Another glance to the clock - five minutes, 37 seconds to go. Letting out a small sigh, he couldn't help but think: time's a real bitch.
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Author's Note:
Sorry about the boring chapter, I just wanted to create the image of what a typical day at school would be like for Peter Maximoff. I promise to write more compelling stuff later.
Much love!
- Marvel_Maximoff
