ᴀ ʏᴇᴀʀ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀ - ᴘᴇʀᴄʏ ᴊᴀᴄᴋꜱᴏɴ x ᴍᴀʀᴠᴇʟ ᴄʀᴏꜱꜱᴏᴠᴇʀ

[VII] S E V E N

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"Emperor's New Clothes"
By Panic! At The Disco

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N A T A S H A

Natasha emerged from their usual limousine, sunlight splashing on her face. A newfound October chill swept over her exposed skin, and she shivered.

She frowned down at her long black socks - God, she should have worn tights that morning. Perhaps even gloves. The autumn season had arrived with full force.

Swinging her backpack over her shoulder, she dug her hands into the pockets of her school blazer. Thank goodness for the thick material - she had never been more grateful for such an uncomfortable and frankly unnecessary piece of clothing. She glanced around at Clint who, according to the grimace on his face, was having similar thoughts.

As the Avengers began to approach the main building, Natasha and Clint bringing up the rear, Tony shivered melodramatically. "God it's cold, I hate winter." He complained to no one in particular, tugging at the sleeves of his own blazer.

Bruce's head turned. "Aren't we still in Fall?"

Tony frowned. "Don't be a smartass, Banner. It's only a Monday." The billionaire snapped, making the rest of the Avengers smile.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Her homeroom teacher, a man with thinning blond hair and large bags under his eyes, was surprisingly relaxed in comparison to other teachers. He lounged at his desk, took attendance, and then allowed them to do whatever they pleased as long as he was undisturbed.

As long as he was guaranteed his hefty paycheck at the end of the month, he was hardly concerned about what they did.

Not that Natasha particularly minded. Homeroom was so far her favourite moment of her school day - it was a pointless half an hour of the day, but it allowed Natasha and Clint to sit; practically invisible.

Natasha and Clint stalked over to their usual spot at the back of the class. Espionage had taught them well, and they positioned themselves in a flawless, nonchalant position. When in reality, their eyes darted about the room, and they sat attentively. 

It had been two weeks since the Avengers had joined Winterbourne Academy, and so far, the situation looked hopeless. The first few days had been as surreal as landing on another Planet, but two weeks later, they were no closer to uncovering the truth.

Perhaps it was because of their lack of experience with teenagers, (heck, the only kids Natasha ever spoke to were Peter Parker and Morgan Stark) but she hadn't noticed any distinguishable changes in behaviour, or anything odd. 

High schools were just clusters of personalities crammed into one building - and since the most popular students often had the loudest opinions, it was easy to assume everyone else thought the same.

They needed to speak to the quieter students - the ones who often had important things to say, but lacked the confidence to come forward and say them. They wouldn't admit their knowledge to the police, but perhaps they'd talk to another young, quiet teenager like them.

It sounded simple. But Natasha had a significant lack of friends besides the Avengers, and it was hard for a newbie to waltz up to someone random and start a fruitful conversation.