𝗰𝗮𝗹𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗵𝗼𝗺𝗲: 𝗮 𝘄𝗿𝗼𝗻𝗴 𝗻𝘂𝗺𝗯𝗲𝗿 𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘆

Chapter 7

Peter POV 

How was I going to tell The Warden about me attempting an internship?

I decided it would be best to come forward an just admit it.

I paused at the door, my hand poised to knock. Last chance to back out.

I opened the door hesitantly before creeping inside. She was standing at the sink with her back to me.

Taking a deep breath, I stepped forward slightly.

"Ma'am?"

"What do you want, Brat?" She asked without even turning around.

"See, there's this thing at our school where we could get and internship at SI if we pass the test and-" I began.

"Whatever. The less I have to see you, the better." She wiped her wet hands on her grease stained apron.

I stood there in shock. "Really?"

"Yes! Now get out before I change my mind!"

I took the stairs two at a time and plopped my book bag on my bed.

"Petie!" Sydney cried. She dropped her broom and jumped into my arms. "How was school?"

"Same as always, Syd."

"That's good." She paused for a moment before continuing. "I should get back to work."

"Good idea." I ruffled her hair and opened the zipper on my bag. I pulled out my math homework for today and started to scribble down answers.

"Hey Peter, Sydney," Samantha said. She tossed her braid over her left shoulder and collapsed onto her bed.

"Rough day?" I chuckled.

"Math test and a pop quiz in history," she answered. 

We say in silence for another few minutes before Samantha slowly sat up and grabbed her backpack.

"Hey, do you guys know where Alex is?" She asked as she opened her yellow folder marked 'Biology' in blocky writing.

"No, I don't think so," I said while circling one of my answers.

"I think he said he had to clean the windows," Sydney answered.

"That sucks." Samantha continued to pull out a worksheet and pencils.

"So I'm going to try to get an internship at Stark Industries," I said, breaking the silence.

"You are? That's great!" Samantha encouraged.

"I dunno if I'll get one though."

"Of course you will!" Sydney assured me with her biggest smile.

"Thanks," I laughed as I ruffled her hair. "I'll try."

"You'll make us all proud," Samantha said.

•••

The next day came all too quickly. Before I knew it, Ned and I were walking into Mr. Harrison's classroom during lunch and sitting down.

Mr. Harrison handed out standardized testing pencils and dividers like we were in fourth grade.

"They are just a precaution," he assured. "Now, no cheating. You have fifty minutes. Once everyone has their test, you may begin." He proceeded to pass out booklets about ten pages thick.

Once the last person had their test, I flipped mine over.

I was prepared for math and science questions but the first few pages were filled with questions along the lines of 'Why do you want to work at Stark Industries?' or 'How do you plan to make a difference in the world?'

I answered every question before going back and double-checking my answers. Once I was sure I had answered every one to the best of my ability, I placed it face down on Mr. Harrison's desk and returned to my seat.

I pulled out a library book from my bag on Dr. Banner's experiments and read until the timer went off. 

"You are dismissed. Your parent or guardian will receive an email from Stark industries within the next week informing them if you got in," our teacher concluded. "Have a nice day."

I walked over to Ned. "So how do you think you did?"

"I think I did okay," he answered nervously. "Although I wasn't sure about question 23 because of the way the-" He was cut off by Flash bumping into him on his way out.

"Sorry, I don't see people who aren't going to get internships," he sneered.

"That's not up to you," I muttered. Instead of replying, he huffed away with his entourage of goons.

"If anyone, he will be the one without an internship," MJ said as she walked up to us.

"I dunno..." Ned sighed. "His parents are pretty influential."

"Tony Stark is choosing who gets in. That doesn't matter," MJ reassured.

"Let's not worry about it now. From here on out, it's in the billionaire's hands," I said mainly to avoid the topic. I was sick to the stomached with nerves and this conversation was not helping.

"Alright, c'mon." 

We headed to the cafeteria with the internship far from our minds.