Peter's POV

Well it was again dreadful Monday. The weekend goes by so fast, but hey, at least I got to see Mr. Stark and Dr. Strange. And Levi! I love that playful relic.

Yes relic. Not a toy. If Dr. Strange taught me one thing, it was that Levi was a relic and a very important and ancient one. That it should be treated gently and respectfully.

But Levi does give fun flying rides.

"Don't you think Peter?"

"Uh, I'm sorry what? I wasn't listening." I said, looking up at Harry; who was sitting across from me at the lunch table. Mj sat to his right.

"I was telling Mj that she shouldn't get too worried about her project. Take a few hours off to relax, maybe take a nap or two. The project isn't due till after Christmas break."

"Oh yeah. Don't sweat it Mj. I haven't even started mine." I gave a nervous smile.

I should probably get that started soon though.

"You don't understand Peter. As lovely as relaxing and napping sounds, I have to get this project done early. It's my thing, ya know? I'm valedictorian of our class." She exclaimed.

"Oh come on Mj." Harry nudged her. "I'll tell you what. How about we all go the cafe across the street and work on our projects there? We'll be hanging out and doing work at the same time." He looked over at me and winked.

"Yeah Mj. We'll be killing two birds with one stone. Having fun and doing work."

"But what if the stone comes back down toward us?" She implied.

"It's imaginary. It won't hit us." I joked.

"Peter that's not what I meant." She and Harry laughed.

The bell rang and lunch was over. Only 4 more hours until I can head out those doors at the end of the corridor that lead to freedom.

Narrator's POV

It was the last hour of the day, and Peter was bores out of his mind in physics class. He couldn't understand why they needed this class. It was like calculus and algebra had a baby, a very ugly baby.

It wasn't hard, no. Just a huge waste of his time. As Mr. Buckets stood next to the green chalk board and explained some sort of formula for velocity, Peter sat as his desk with his elbow on the desk top and his hand on his cheek. He rolled a pencil up and down the desk with his other hand. He gave the clock various glances every now and then. The time was running like a snail. Sometimes he's try to look elsewhere or distract himself, forgetting about the time. And when he finally thought it'd be long enough without looking at the clock, he'd give it a glance, only to see the minute hand had moved two marks forward.

Bored.

Bored.

Bored.

B-O-R-E-D

He looked across the room and saw Harry wadding up a price of paper. Harry looked around, then made eye contact with Peter. Peter got the memo and looked at Mr. Buckets, making sure his back was turned to them.

The coast was clear, he gave Harry a small nod. Harry rolled the price of paper on the floor, under students legs and desk, over to Peter.

Peter picked it up, off the ground.

Mr. Buckets made a suddenly move to write something on the board as his voice kept falling out of his mouth like a waterfall. Peter was startled and hid the note, but took it back out when he realized Mr. Buckets wasn't gonna turn around.

He opened the note. It read:

Did you notice the brown stain on Mr. Buckets's pants?

Peter looked up from the paper. The scripture was true, there was a brown stain on Mr. Buckets's pants, on his buttocks, right down the middle.

Peter, snorted.

Mr. Buckets turned around suddenly, and Peter hid the note.

"Is there a problem Peter?" Asked Mr. Buckets.

"No sir. I needed to sneeze, but it didn't come out." Peter said calmly.

"Alright. As I was saying..." Mr. Buckets continued his lesson.

Peter wrote on the paper.

Bro. What do you think it is? Pudding? You don't think he...?

He wadded it back up and rolled it back to Harry, who gave a quiet chuckle, quiet enough to get by Mr. Buckets, when he read it. He wrote on it and rolled it back to Peter.

Dude, gross.

Peter gave a quiet snicker as he wrote down on the paper. Jokes and small taunts in his head were interrupted by the tapping of a foot. He stopped his writing and looked down at his feet. They weren't his. Then he looked up.

In front of him stood Mr. Buckets with his arms crossed.

"Hello Mr. Buckets." He said nervously.

"Parker, give me that note." He said in a harsh tone.

Peter handed it over, covering his eyes as he did so.

When Mr. Buckets finished reading it, his face was red like fire.

"Well well, comedian aren't we?" He looked at Peter. "Who else was involved in this?" He said raising the note and looking up to everyone at the classroom. No one said anything.

Harry gulped. He wasn't about to throw his friend into a hole. His mouth opened to let sounds out.

"No one else was." Peter said.

Harry looked at him in confusion.

"What?" Mr. Buckets looked at him. "You're telling me you were having a conversation to yourself?"

"Uh, yes. Yes I was." Peter looked over at Harry and gave him a smile. "Look at the handwriting, it's the same."

Luckily he and Harry had the same handwriting.

"Then why would you was it up?"

"I like to pretend that I'm rolling it to someone. Then I open it and act completely surprised when I read what's been written." Peter explained making some facial expressions to accompany how silly the idea that had just suddenly popped in his head was.

The class laughed.

"Wow Peter, your loneliness and stupidity have just earned you detention." Mr. Buckets placed a white slip on his desk and walked away.

The bell rang, and students arose from their seats and flooded to the door, desperate to get out of this education filled cage. Harry was the last to get up, gathering his stuff while looking at Peter; who remained seated at his desk.

Peter gave him a smile and thumbs up.

Harry smiled and facepalmed himself, walking out the doorway along with everyone else.

//0//0

Went the mop head when Peter let it hit the floor.

Yup detention. Where you actually don't get to sit in a room and do nothing for an hour and a half, you help the genitors clean.

But hey, this actually wasn't that bad. It was actually quite enjoyable, relaxing Peter might say. There was no trouble in the city today and this was stress relieving.

"Oof." Peter wiped his forehead with his hand and stopped his back and forth movement with the mop.

He picked it up and placed it in the gray murky water, and then put it in the cage where most of the liquid would be squeezed out of it. He heard police sirens outside the window of the classroom he was mopping. He hurried over to the window and opened it. Two stories below him, he saw two police cars chasing after a red car, going extremely fast, zooming through the streets. He looked around for a bit, peeled outside the classroom door, closing it when no one was around. There were no cameras in the classrooms.

He opened his backpack and took out his mask. He placed it over his face and leaped out the window.

Peter's POV

I swung right back into the same window I jumped out of whenever I left the school, turns out it was a very poorly planned robbery. The guy wasn't even from New York, so of course he got himself trapped in heavy traffic. Man, I got all excited over nothing.

I was just about to remove my mask, when I heard some rumbling sounds outside the classroom, I left it on and went over to the door. This could be dangerous.

I opened it, only two find a couple of students. Probably detention kids as well. I started to walk away, when something stopped me in my tracks.

"What is this? A silly costume?"

"Shut up Dylan, give it back."

"Say please."

"You expect me to beg- Hmmmf."

I saw as the other boy had landed a first in his stomach.

"I said 'Please'."

"Fuck you." Groaned the one who had been attacked.

With that, the two boys started beating him.

"Hey!" I shot a web to the fist of the one he called Dylan, and pulled him back. I went over to them.

"Whoa. It's the-"

I shot webbing at the unnamed one's mouth.

"Look man we don't want any trouble." Dylan said raising his hands.

"Then you better walk away." I said.

With that, they raced out of sight. The left over boy was sitting on the floor with a gray hoodie on, over his face.

"Oh hey, here." I picked up the thing Dylan had in his hand. A mask.

The boy tightened his hoodie strings, hiding his face even more.

Wait a minute, this mask.

Red and black.

I unfolded it, revealing two white circles.

"D-Deadpool?" I asked.

He looked up. "Spidey?" Suddenly he got up.

I lifted the part of my mask the covered my face.

"It is you." He removed his hoodie, revealing his scared face. "What are you doing here?"

"What does it look like? I go to school here." I told him. "What are you doing here?"

"I attend school here too."

Narrator's POV

"I got detention for writing 'Suck my dick' on a desk." Deadpool explained.

Peter wasn't surprised. "I got detention too." Peter admitted.

"Ooh, bad boy." Deadpool smirked. "What for?"

"Passing notes in class."

"Pff. Of course. Such innocence." Deadpool rolled his eyes. "You see, when you go to detention, you tell people it was for something cool. But if you really want to gain respect, you say it was something bad."

"Um, yeah...no. I'm not a trouble maker, it was just a small mistake." Peter explained.

"Then why don't we work on your bad boy reputation?" Deadpool leaned a little closer to Peter.

"Uh, I don't want one." Peter backed up.

"Oh come on, it'll be fun." Deadpool walked closer and closer to him.

"N-No thank you." Peter's back hit the lockers behind him. "Y-You know, I sh-should really get going."

"Oh look at you, all stuttery and falling apart. Unfolding in front of me. I like that very much." Deadpool leaned closer and closer. Their chests were pressed against each other.

"I-I don't even know your name." Peter was now freaking out, internally and externally. His body shook, and a bright red blush tainted his cheeks.

"I'll make sure you know who I am when I'm done with you." Deadpool leaned into Peter's neck, lips brushed against his skin.

"Uhh..." Peter only tried to sink further into the lockers behind him.

"Stop!" Suddenly there was blast, causing Deadpool to drop to the ground. There were little blue electrical currents all over his shaking body.

Peter looked the direction the blast come from, Tony stood there with one of his gloves on. The blue circle in the center of his glove was slowly losing color.

"Mr. Stark?"

"Hey Kid." He waved.

"T-Tony." Deadpool said in between shocks.

"Wade." Tony responded, staring down at him.

"Wait, you know this guy?" Peter asked.

"Yes, we have a contract." Tony clicked a button on his glove and stopped the shocks on Wade's body.

"You do?"

"Ah. Thank you." Wade got up. "And yes we do."

"He agreed to stay away from you in exchange for some information." Explained Tony, standing face to face with Wade, who had a smirk on his face, with Peter behind him.

"What information?"

"Your info!" Wade yelped. "Sorry. I was just so excited to spill the beans, I couldn't contain myself."

"Mr. Stark!" Peter groaned. He looked at Deadpool. "So that's how you knew my name."

"Oh I know everything about you." Deadpool said. Tony snorted. "What?"

"We must be on our way. Kid, take that suit off, someone will see you." Tony said, as he walked away with Peter.

"Why'd you laugh Tony? Tony! What's so funny?" Deadpool called from the distance as Peter and Tony were almost out the door.

"You really gave him all my info?" Asked Peter, looking up at Tony.

"Psh. Of course not." Tony wrapped an arm around Peter. "It was all fake." He laughed.

Peter laughed along with him, and the two walked out of the school building.