TELEKINETIC │ p.p

Chapter Four

Vanessa finally arrived back to Tony's house, after spending two hours trying to figure everything out for herself, such as directions and the right stop she had to exit the subway at. She had a few attempts, but eventually made it to the correct one.

She stomped through the front door, slamming said door shut and throwing her backpack onto the floor. She stormed to the kitchen, where she grabbed a bag of Doritos that she planned to devour in order to hide her feelings. But Tony entered the kitchen immediately, a bright smile clung to his face.

"How was your first day of your new school?" he questioned.

"It was pretty good," Vanessa admits while munching on her chips, "but the end of the day was pretty shitty, if I'm honest."

"What happened?" Tony asks.

"I'm not one to tattle," she starts, "tell your buddy Peter that I'll find somewhere else to sit at lunch." And with that, she carried her chips and the dark, gloomy cloud that hung above her head up to her room.

- - - - -

She crumpled the empty Doritos bag up, tossing the ball she'd created into the air above her face and caught it before it could land on her nose and bounce off, onto the floor.

"Hey, Mr. Stark. Is Vanessa home?" She could hear it almost clear as day. She shook her head, stood from her bed, and locked the door before blaring music from the speakers in her bedroom. But the noise didn't block out his knocks or his voice. "I need to apologize!" Peter screamed over the belted lyrics, hoping she'd just listen to him.

As she opened the door with a very upset look on her face and her arms crossed over her chest, he remembered she was unaware of his secret. He gulped, then cleared his throat, and told her the first lie he could think up.

"My aunt had an emergency and I had to leave school immediately," he spoke, tapping his foot anxiously. "I had to make sure she was alright."

"What happened to her?" Vanessa questioned, putting on a face that made her seem interested and concerned. But she wasn't - she knew it was a lie. Why else would he feel the need to tap his foot like that?

"She fell..." Peter felt the climate in the house only climb upward into a spiraling ball of fire, his cheeks flame red, "... off of a ladder."

What was she doing on the ladder? Vanessa wanted to ask, but she didn't want to be too nosy or give away that she didn't believe him.

"Well, give her my best," she replies, pressing a grin onto her face, pushing the door back to the closed position.

"Wait," Peter interjected, slipping his foot between the door. Vanessa rolled her hidden eyes.

"For what?" she questioned, not trying to hide the exhaustion in her voice.

"I'm really sorry I left without telling you," he sighs. "Can I buy you some food?"

"I'm not hungry," she replied politely, not lying in the slightest. She had eaten a whole bag of cheesy chips. "But thank you."

"It doesn't have to be tonight," he chuckles. "How about tomorrow?"

"I don't know. I'd have to talk to Tony," she responds.

"Okay, well, let me know then," he smiles, walking away. "Have a good night!" he called over his shoulder as he hopped down the staircase. Vanessa rolled her eyes yet again, shutting the door and letting her back slide down it.

Eventually she picked herself back up, carrying herself to the attached bathroom, in desperate need of a hot shower. She needed to dwell on the decision of forgiving Peter or forcing him out of her life.

- - - - -

The next morning she awoke with a startle. Her hair was damp and her towel was still wrapped around her, except it had loosened and unraveled mostly, but still covered her bits.

Her eyes darted to the clock sat on her bedside table, a gasp flying from her mouth, resulting in her jumping up from the bed. She ran to the closet, picked out a pair of jeans and a grey hoodie, slipping them on and pulling her hair up into a messy bun. She tugged on socks and a pair of white Converse, then slid into the bathroom. With about five minutes to spare, she tapped on concealer under her eyes and applied a small amount of mascara. Her appearance wasn't as flattering as yesterday, but it was better than how she would've dressed for her old school.

She bolted down the stairs, threw her bag on her shoulders, grabbed a piece of toast from the pile on the counter, and stepped out of the house. She tapped her pockets for her phone, sighing in relief as she felt it. She pulled it out and called Peter instantly.

"Where are you?" she questioned, looking at her surroundings as she headed toward the subway station.

"I told you we'd meet you at the station," Peter responded, chuffed to hear her voice and to believe she had forgiven him.

"Oh yeah, sorry. My brain's not awake yet," she spoke, speeding up her pace.

"What do you mean?" Peter asked, chuckling airily.

"I slept through my alarm and woke up about seven minutes ago," she spoke, clearly unhappy with the circumstance.

"So are you dressed up in sweats?" he teased, not wanting their conversation to end.

"Guess you'll have to find out," she teased back, ending the call. She sighed, slipping her phone back into her pocket, adjusting the straps of her backpack to fit her shoulders more comfortably.

Peter sighed, leaning against the wall of the station building. "Is she coming?" Ned asked. Peter nodded. "What did you tell her?"

"That May fell off a ladder and she needed my help right away," he responded, not proud of himself at all for having to lie to Vanessa.

"Can I use that as my excuse too?" Ned questioned, leaning against the same wall, staring at Peter.

"How? And why?"

"I told Vanessa I was going to the bathroom, and then I never went back to class! She's gonna be super pissed with me." Peter shakes his head, looking away from his best friend. "I could just say you needed my help desperately."

"Should've got to her right after the mission, like I did," Peter spoke, pushing himself upright and glancing around for Vanessa. He caught a glimpse of her midspin, turning his body back toward her. A goofy smile hung on his lips as he gazed her way, his eyes admiring how she looked with less than ten minutes to ready herself for the day. He was lucky she wasn't looking his way, meaning his lovestruck stare went unnoticed.