Chapter 22

Peter was riding a high as he moved through the rest of his morning. Even though he hadn't remembered to ask, Gwen had still said yes. Now, he could plan out the whole "end-of-school" celebration. Checking his balance, he saw he even had enough to rent a limo.

First, he just needed to make it to the end of the school day. He had Technical Drawing and Physics before lunch, and after that, he'd join Gwen and the others for a double period of English.

When classes ended for lunch, he noticed he hadn't seen Gwen or Felicia anywhere around.

He was just finishing up putting away his notebook and drawing pens when Flash suddenly showed up beside him.

"So," Flash said in an obnoxiously loud tone, "Gwen said she'd go to prom with me."

A few other seniors nearby turned to watch. A clash between Flash and Peter was always an event worth seeing.

Peter scowled and shook his head. "Yeah, we both know that's not true, Flash."

Almost shouting again, Flash continued, "I don't know, Pete. She's been pretty cozy with me over at Oscorp. My dad's putting her on a team I'll be running. Close and personal."

"Flash, you couldn't get a date to prom if your little group of friends took their mouths off your ego long enough to ask someone. Try acting like less of a loser for once and get a grip," Peter whispered. He had finally had it. Even Flash's overwhelming aftershave was grating on his nerves. Peter held back his anger, repeating to himself: not here, not now.

But his frustration over Flash targeting Gwen was building, and he'd finally had enough of Flash's obsession with harassing him. "Or are you just trying to make me jealous?"

Peter closed his locker and smirked, raising his voice to match Flash's volume. "Sorry, Flash, but I'm not going to prom with you."

Flash's face twisted in anger as whispers spread around them. Peter knew rumors were already flying about last year's prom and what supposedly happened with MJ. He'd heard MJ had denied them, clearly stating that nothing had happened.

"Parker," Flash growled, and without warning, swung a fist at him.

Peter's eyes widened as Flash's punch seemed to move in slow motion. He could see exactly where Flash was aiming and felt he could avoid it without any effort.

Pretending to bend down for his shoelace, he squatted, and Flash's swing missed. Realizing Peter had ducked, Flash aimed an uppercut at his face. To Peter, Flash might as well have been moving in slow motion. Smiling, Peter formulated a plan.

He leaned back on his heels, sliding out of Flash's punch. Frustrated, Flash lined up a kick to Peter's midsection as Peter began to stand.

Peter seemed to stumble, falling out of the way. There was a sickening crack as Flash's foot collided with the concrete wall support. He yelled in pain and dropped to the ground, clutching his foot.

The force of the kick had twisted Flash's ankle unnaturally, with the bone visibly protruding. Everyone turned away, and some students felt queasy.

The sound of his own bones breaking and the searing pain that followed made Flash scream. He gripped his leg, looking down at the gruesome injury. Overwhelmed by shock and pain, he vomited on himself and then passed out.

"What in the world is going on here?" Mrs. Donaldson yelled, as students quickly hid their phones, which they'd been using to record the scene.

One of Flash's friends chimed in, "Parker started it!"

"Right. You—go find another teacher, and I saw those phones. Use them to call 911." She motioned to Peter. "Then, Mr. Parker, come with me."

Peter soon found himself being led to the principal's office.

As Peter was escorted away, Jean watched him struggle to control his anger. She hadn't intended to grip Flash's leg like that, and she hadn't realized her barrier would twist it so badly. Glancing around to make sure no one noticed, she realized she'd messed up again. She needed to tell Miss Munroe that this was her fault and that she hadn't meant for it to happen.

Peter sat in the office for what felt like hours. An ambulance came to take Flash to the hospital, and a uniformed police officer arrived to review the cell phone videos. After a quick look, the officer shook his head and left. Peter couldn't tell if the officer was disappointed about not making an arrest or just annoyed that his time had been wasted. Peter could relate to the feeling as he sat there waiting.

Eventually, Flash's father, Harrison Thompson, stormed into the office, yelling with a face flushed beet red.

Probably a sign of heart problems, Peter thought.

The man looked aged, and his perfectly pressed suit did nothing to cover up his foul odor. Peter could smell the alcohol on his breath and the faint trace of lipstick. Peter had never had a high opinion of Harrison; anyone who let his son behave like Flash was just as bad. And right now, Harrison was proving him right.

"You… you little punk! I'm going to sue you! My son's ankle is broken, and he'll miss the finals! You've ruined his career!"

Peter, finally fed up, stood up straight. "Go ahead. I'll stand in court and tell them about all the bullying, the previous fights, and the complaints my aunt already submitted." Peter stepped closer. "So yeah, sue me. See how well that goes for you."

Peter's anger was tangible, and Harrison took a step back, momentarily subdued by the young man in front of him. Of course, a person like Harrison Thompson just redirected his frustration. If he couldn't intimidate Peter, then the vice-principal would do.

"Him—I want him expelled for fighting! He cost you the season! The final's next week, and Eugene's out for at least six months! Do something!" he yelled.

"Uh, Mr. Parker… while I can't expel you since I'd also have to expel Mr. Thompson, I do feel that this behavior isn't appropriate for the school's valedictorian. Perhaps it would be better if Miss Stacy took your place, don't you think?" the vice-principal stammered.

Peter went pale; losing the top position would impact him in more ways than one.

"That's it? Expel the little troublemaker, you spineless idiot!" Harrison shouted.

"Um, Mr. Thompson, as I said, I'd have to expel your son too. However, removing Peter from the valedictorian list would make him ineligible for several scholarships—scholarships that, I might add, are his only chance at going to college."

The vice-principal had leaned in and whispered to Harrison, but Peter still caught what was said. He cursed inwardly, knowing the man had a point.

The conditional scholarships he'd been offered were reserved only for the top students. One foolish fight with Flash, and now not only his college plans were at stake, but his entire university future as well.

Harrison brushed off the vice-principal's arm. "Fine," he said, looking Peter up and down. "Wait a minute—you're that kid who puked in the lab, right?"

With a smirk, he pulled out his phone and dialed.

"Yeah, it's Harrison. I think you have an internship set up for Peter Parker, don't you? Cancel it. Yeah, it's fine. Hammer won't mind; just some loser kid."

He threw Peter a triumphant look, making Peter subconsciously clench his fists. Ending the call, Harrison turned to grin at the principal. "See you on Sunday for golf, Ernie?"

The principal shook his hand, responding, "Of course, of course," as if ruining a young person's future was just another task. "Oh, Harrison, how long did you say Flash would be in the hospital?"

"About a week, and then he'll need surgery, so probably four weeks."

"Ah, unfortunate. Peter, you're suspended for four weeks. If Flash has to miss school, I don't see why you should be free to attend. I'll have Gladys notify your aunt. I'm sure she'll want to have a word with you."

The vice-principal waved Peter toward the door, dismissing him, while Harrison stayed behind. Peter didn't doubt they were working out more ways to make his life difficult. Fighting to keep his temper in check, he left without slamming the door.

Peter had already done his exam prep, but the school provided exclusive materials that only teachers accessed. He knew these resources weren't meant for students like him; they were for the clueless jerks like Flash—the ones who couldn't pass without assistance.

The bigger problem was that missing school would hurt his attendance, which directly affected his test scores. With attendance factored into his grade average, his chances of achieving top marks on the final exams were now compromised.

Missing four weeks of school right before exams was a catastrophe. And with a prior suspension already on his record, a second one within a month would raise serious concerns.

It wasn't fair. And four weeks away? He might as well not return.

As he left the vice-principal's office, he stopped by the main secretary's desk, tapping it to get her attention. "Yeah, get me the withdrawal forms. I'm done here."

He didn't need to give his name—she already knew who he was. She'd always felt sympathy for him, having seen all he had to endure. After all the commotion from the office, she understood he'd finally had enough.

Although she couldn't interfere, she felt a pang as she handed him the forms. "You'll need—" she started to say.

"No, I'm eighteen. I don't," he interrupted, and she watched as he signed each form himself. She sighed as he filled out page after page. He was a good student and a good kid, defeated by favoritism and school politics.

Even with his outstanding scores on the placement tests, the blemish on his record would follow him.

She'd already received the paperwork that canceled most of his scholarships. Some days—especially today—she hated her job. Most of all, she despised the flawed system that made life so hard for students like Peter.

High school was already tough enough. With budget cuts and overworked teachers, it didn't get any easier. And, of course, there were the parents with money, turning the school into their kids' private playground.

"Well, Mr. Parker, since you're no longer a student here, please empty your locker, return the key, and leave the premises. Hand over your student ID and any hall passes you might have. And, Peter, I'm sorry. I know things happen here, but—"

Peter cut her off. "Sorry, Mrs. Henderson, but apologies don't mean anything at this point. It's been four years, and nobody did a thing for me. My locker's empty; here's everything." He didn't even look her in the eye as he emptied his pockets onto the counter. He left his student ID and locker key, then walked away.

Peter didn't feel sad—he felt free. He knew Aunt May and Gwen would scold him, but right now, it didn't matter.

He could take night classes and earn his GED at a community college. It wasn't the Ivy League, but it was still a credential. University could wait until he was on stronger financial footing.

Harrison Thompson strutted down the school halls feeling triumphant. He might not have achieved all his goals, but ruining that kid's life felt even better.

Flash would miss out on several football scholarships. They wouldn't know until after surgery if his ankle would fully heal. If it didn't, Flash's football career was over. But he could still sue that little punk—the injury was partly his fault, after all.

As he walked to the parking lot, he pressed the fob for his car, frowning when the familiar beep beep sounded distorted. He'd been so angry after hearing about Flash's injury that he'd parked near the school's entrance, ignoring the "No Parking" signs. There were no cameras, so why should he care?

Harrison's jaw dropped when he saw his car. In shock, he let his briefcase fall. Someone had vandalized it. No, someone had rammed one of the "No Parking" signs through the roof and into the driver's seat. The wheels were twisted, and all four tires had deep gashes carved out of the sidewalls. Stunned, he stood there, unsure how to even begin reporting this.