Arc One. Chapter Seven. Suspension Of Disbelief
Peter was not in a good mood as he headed to school the next day.
Aunt May had explained she had gotten a lawyer. Nelson and Murdock had agreed to take the case pro bono. But she had also warned him that school would be rough for a while.
The lawyer had done a little digging. Using public records they found several inconsistencies within the school.
Several students had been transferred to other schools. Several more had been displaced from the football team. Once they started to look even Flash's academic records were suspicious.
If something was going on Peter might be dragged into it, and unfairly punished.
That wasn’t the only reason. As he approached the school gates and saw Flash standing there, it was apparent he wasn’t happy.
“You and me Parker.” he said, “after school, I’m gonna fucking kill you.” He motioned to two other boys and they walked away.
The look on his face and the scorn in his voice left Peter with a sour taste in his mouth, and a ball of rage in his stomach,
Kill me? Yeah, you can try, you shithead.
As he walked to homeroom, he never even made it in the door as Vice-Principal Valentine approached him.
He was dressed impeccably in a well-fitted dark blue suit. It was a lot nicer than a lot of the other teachers, and there were rumours he had a second job somewhere.
“Peter. I received several disturbing reports yesterday. I have also spoken with Miss Munroe. Please come with me.”
Peter followed the short, balding man to his office on the main campus. As Peter followed him, he could smell the cigarette smoke irritating his nose. Under it though was something else. Something chemical.
Mr Valentine motioned to a chair and Peter sat down, leaving his bag next to him.
“Do you know why you are here?” but Peter shook his head, “then I shall explain.” He reached into his desk and pulled out a folder, and a phone.
“Yesterday I received complaints that you assaulted Mr Thompson in the corridor. And not too long after, I received this in my inbox.”
He lifted his phone and turned the screen.
A small clip played of Peter kneeling before Flash and punching him. It was a recording of the incident yesterday, and Peter watched as he then attacked the other two boys.
Peter was stunned. Flash set him up, he hadn't even spotted the third person.
“No,” he said shaking his head, “that's not what happened.”
Mr Valentine sighed, “Regardless. Unless you have witnesses. Mr Thompson and three people, one who took that video said you assaulted them.” As he flicked open the file, “and that in the corridor, you were seen pushing Mr Thompson next to your locker.”
“He pushed me, and everyone saw that. Ask Miss Munroe,” Peter tried to explain.
“Miss Munroe is not a member of the faculty and is on retainer to another school. Her testimony would not be accepted by the board.”
Mr Valentine took off his glasses and lay them on his desk.
“Mr Parker. I have here a small slip. One I am happy to sign, stating that due to current behaviour you are deemed unacceptable at Midtown High. The fight in the corridor. The fight outside of school is already enough. If I take into account your behaviour on the school trip then it is enough to warrant your suspension.”
Peter slumped back down in his seat. “But, none of that's true,“ he said shaking his head in disbelief.
“We have students who corroborated Mr Thompson's side of the story. We have a report from Oscorp that you were suddenly ill possibly due to food poisoning. Instead of reporting it, you went home, even after Ms Stacy vouched for you.”
He lifted his glasses and slid them back on. “I am afraid Peter I have no choice but to suspend you, and to make it a permanent addition to your record.”
“But!” Peter started but Mr Valentine glared at him over the rim of his glasses,
“There are no buts Mr Parker. Unless you can prove anything I just said is a lie, then my hands are tied.”
Peter sat back and shook his head.
“Good. I will have a letter drafted for your guardian. And you are now suspended for two weeks. If I deem them appropriate there may be additional administrative punishments.” As he turned to slide the folder back into his desk, he looked at Peter, “you may go now.”
Dejected and angry, Peter grabbed his bag and quietly left.
Outside the school gates, his phone was buzzing, but he couldn't face anyone.
Sliding his backpack on, he tightened the straps and started to jog. Soon he picked up speed and headed to the warehouse.
He needed to vent, to cry, to yell, to scream and swear at the unfairness of it all.
Midtown High was in Brooklyn, and the warehouse district was down south, in the Sunset Park area.
With his new abilities, it was now a five-minute run. He had no idea how fast he was running but it stopped the anger nursing in his chest.
As he approached the warehouse, he saw the sign had been pasted. It now had a bright red 'SOLD' notice and he could at least smile at that.
Once he unlocked the door. He stood in the middle of the warehouse. He threw his bag into the clean office and took a deep breath.
“AHHHHH!” he screamed into the air. “AHHHHHHH!” he let it all out,
We should hurt him, he heard, but he shook his head
No. I need to be better. But the burning anger in his chest, while muted still raged.
He saw the broken pallets and old counters and he snarled.
Leaping forwards, he elbowed one and it split in the centre. He stepped back and raised his leg, kicking the top completely free. As it spun in the air, he jumped and kicked it across the warehouse, where it smashed against the back wall.
When he landed he kicked out again taking one side. As it flew away he flicked his wrist, hit it with a web line and dragged it back into his fist. Striking out, it obliterated. Covering him and the floor with splinters and fragments of cheap fibreboard. He growled angrily, ignoring the mess
He kicked off the other side as well, but this one he sent up. Leaping and grabbing it, slamming it down on his knee, breaking it in two.
Panting, he held the two halves, looking at the mess he had made.
Wood chips and broken wood littered the floor and as he huffed, his phone went and he just sighed.
Venting wasn't healthy. Letting his rage overtake him was the wrong way to deal with it, even if he felt better.
He flopped won on the floor, uncaring of the wood splinters he felt jabbing into his ass. He grabbed his bag, and took out his phone, looking at the several messages he received.
Pete, we heard, it's all over school, I'm in the library
Pete? Where are you?
Pete, come on, please?
Pete?
All from Gwen, and he tapped a quick message.
Sorry, got really mad. Had to calm down. Please, dont be mad. But yeah, they suspended me for the thing yesterday and Oscorp. Sorry.
Peter. The school called. I’m at work. Go home and call Mr Murdock. This is bullshit and you know it. Love, May
Hey Pete, Gwen’s pretty fucking mad. Better call her or you’re gonna be suspended from a bridge when she catches you, ass.
The last one was from Felicia, and he smiled and snorted at her charming message.
His phone buzzed again,
It was a sad face emoji, take care of yourself, Pete. Flash is already bragging about it, guess it was his fault yeah? Fel is pretty mad.
Oh Shit, Peter thought. Felicia was on the math team as Gwen was once a member but her real focus was the Judo club, and she really hated Flash.
Gwen, please, don’t let Felicia get in trouble over this, please. I’m fine, It’ll be fine.
Aww, Pete, cheating on me already, you bad bad boy. I’ll let Fel know her honey bunny is all worried about her.
He laughed and rolled his eyes,
Yeah, I should be back in two weeks, I dont want to miss my chance to ask her to prom. I mean, if she’s suspended as well, we might have to skip.
Gwen loved to tease him over anything. She was a grade-A smart with a grade-A sense of humour. This time though, there was a huge pause.
That's fine I guess, I’m sure she'd be happy.
Peter snorted, Gwen loved to tease everyone but was terrible at taking it.
Gwen, Felicia would be my second choice, you know my first, and I guess I’ll ask her when I get back, okay?
There was another long pause, and Peter imagined that Gwen had probably gone bright red. As it was, and he checked the time, just around first recess, Felicia was probably sitting next to her.
His phone buzzed but it was Felicia this time,
Gwen died, so yeah, pick me up at askwjelkj
Peter laughed. Gwen must have grabbed her phone and sent the garbled message by accident.
Ignore her. You can ask her right now and she’ll say yes.
He was about to text her back when Harry messaged him as well.
Hey Pete. Sorry to hear about the suspension. Dad’ll be mad, but when is he never? Free up some time at the weekend and we can head out somewhere, let off some steam alright?
Thanks, Harry, and that’d be great, uh just give me some time, Aunt May is on the warpath, and I need to talk to her first,
Sure Peter, talk to you later.
Switching back to Gwen's message,
Don’t know if I should, if you’re a zombie, you might only be after me for my braaaains, and he added a zombie emoji.
Felicia messaged him again,
Gwen’s after you for your diasklmaf
And strangely enough, it was Harry,
Hey Pete. I really don’t know what you're saying to Gwen and Felicia but they’ve just been sent to the Principals office for fooling around in the library. So uh, maybe chill a bit okay?
Peter laughed. He knew Gwen could be loud when she wanted, and if she annoyed Felicia enough she would not hold back. Even if it was against her best friend. He was about to send Harry a text back when his phone rang.
Peter checked the ‘Unknown Number’ and it was a New York area code, he looked at it for a moment and answered.
“Hello?”
“Hello. Is this Peter Parker? Your Aunt asked me to call you. It’s Matt, Matt Murdock.”
The lawyer guy, Peter thought.
“Uh is this about school?”
“Yes Peter.” he heard Matt say with a small hint of amusement, “this is most definitely about school. I know you’re not there right now, Is there any chance you can come to the office? A deposition would be nice.”
“Uh, Your office is?”
“It's in Brooklyn. If you want to get a taxi we can cover the cost,”
Peter heard a not-so-hushed voice,
“Ask him about paying.” he heard another man in the background ask.
“Is that okay?” Matt asked, ignoring his partner.
“Uh sure. I can be there, in uh. Sure. I’ll be there soon.”
“See you then,” and Matt hung up.
He would have to Woogle their office and after checking the map, it was in Hell's Kitchen, quite a distance away.
Mapping a route from where he was, it was nine miles. He tilted his head, if he ran at a decent speed it would only take him half an hour, faster than the bus.
He grabbed his bag and dusted the splinters from it. As he looked around the warehouse groaned at the mess he had made. It would have to wait though.
He would definitely need to clean up now. The floor, walls, and everything were covered in wood splinters and chips of paint.
The ruins of the kitchen counter were scattered over the floor.
It was a waste of a unit, even if it was dirty it could have been sterilised and resurfaced. A cheap laminate covering was a few dollars, whereas a new kitchen counter unit was fifty or sixty.
I need to get a grip, Peter thought to himself and snorted, money isn't free.
As he zipped up his jacket, tightened the straps on his backpack and looked out into the grey and cold day.
At least it's not raining, he thought, just as the first drops began to hit his face.
Dammit.