Spooktober 03: Ice

Principal Morita's been working at Midtown School of Science and Technology for several years now. He'd like to say, in his time, that he's seen quite a lot— generations of students come and go, pop culture morphs and shifts, the lingo changes in the hallway as quickly as the fashion.

If you had asked him a year ago what the strangest experience he'd ever had working at Midtown Tech would be, his face would have contorted with a disgruntled frown. After all, just last year alone there was enough to leave him a weekly patron at the downtown bar.

For one, the infamous Academic Decathlon fieldtrip to Washington D.C.; a trip littered with accidents that cost so much money and would have cost so much more if it weren't for Spider-Man. For two, a supervillain that ended up being the father of one of Midtown's best and brightest, and to top it off at three— a Homecoming event ending with students taking selfies with one of the Vulture's cronies, webbed to a bus behind the school.

So yeah, you could say Principal Morita's job was stressful. It definitely warranted the hidden bottle of prescribed Xanax in his top desk drawer.

Despite this, what he really never expected, today or ever, was for the secretary to frantically knock on the window of his office. Her face was pale, eyes wide and looking positively startled.

He furrowed his eyebrows. Glanced at Peter Parker, the teenager sat in front of him with his hands fidgeting with his backpack, and back at the secretary. Finally he pushed his chair back from the desk and walked to the door.

"Yes?" He said, ready to put out whatever fire it was. His mind was thinking of the usual possibilities, students physically fighting in an Algebra classroom, a couple skipping class to hide in the bathroom, someone smoking in the band room, maybe even a literal fire started in the chemistry room, who knows.

"Sir," the secretary stuttered. "Um. You— Tony Stark is here to see you."

Principal Morita went still. He shook his head minutely. "What was that, Sherry?"

"Tony Stark," she said again, gesturing wildly to the front doors. "He's here to—"

The door swung open, and Tony Stark strode in with all the casualty and swagger that someone with a billion dollars to spend every day could have. He didn't look happy— the look on his face was cold enough to freeze the entire room as he walked up to the desk and squinted impatiently at the two standing.

Principal Morita thought of himself to be a sensible, confident, respectable man. He wasn't intimidated easily because he knew where he stood and he knew how hard he worked to earn it. That being said, he knew a pissed off parent when he saw one, and Tony Stark was the only person in his immediate vicinity that could afford to effectively put him out of a job. So sure, maybe he was beginning to sweat a bit.

"I'm here for the meeting," Tony Stark said plainly. It sounded bored, but there was a storminess in the way his eyes followed Morita and the spooked woman beside him.

"Meeting?" Sherry creaked out, a nervous smile on her lips. She put on a mask of faux calm and walked closer to the front, her heels hesitantly hitting on the carpet as she went. "Of course. Meeting for, um, who?"

"A student here," Tony Stark continued. He crossed his arms. "Peter Parker. He was pulled out of his seventh period, right?"

Unable to help it, Principal Morita's head swung around. The teenager in question, Peter Parker, was very obviously eavesdropping, watching them through the window of his office. He caught Morita's eyes and they widened— the teen quickly looked away.

"Peter Parker?" Morita furrowed his eyebrows. "But you're..."

"...his secondary contact," Mr. Stark finished.

Sherry opened her mouth and closed it like a fish. She typed something into the computer, and Morita looked over her shoulder as she clicked onto Peter's file.

Sure enough, Tony Stark was listed right under May Parker, complete with even his signature and contact information. How did they miss this before?

"Alright," Morita said after a moment, blinking rapidly to adjust to this very big change that just formed in his brain. He nodded and awkwardly gestured Mr. Stark into the back, where the two walked into his office.

Morita carefully sat back down in his chair, pointedly ignoring the way his secretary was now ogling through the office window at the celebrity.

Peter looked more embarrassed than anything else, avoiding any eye contact with his ears all red. He muttered a 'hello' to Mr. Stark and also something that sounded like a half-attempted apology.

Mr. Stark sat down beside him and leaned back, crossing his arms. He looked severely unimpressed, and let the silence go on for a few awkward seconds before finally breaking it.

"So, what's going on?" He asked.

Morita stumbled out of his daze. "Ah. Right. Well, um, I've received some feedback from some of Peter's teachers, saying that he's been performing inadequately enough in his classes to warrant a meeting."

Peter muffled a quiet sigh and sank in his seat, hiding his face with one hand.

"Which classes?" Mr. Stark asked.

Morita stuttered for a moment as he searched for the paper on his desk. He cleared his throat. "Uh, it seems that P.E. is at a failing grade right now, AP Physics, and AP Chemistry."

A very long beat of silence followed after that. Morita opened his mouth to follow up, but went silent, because Mr. Stark suddenly looked at Peter with a suffering look.

"Really, kid?"

Peter sunk lower in his seat, embarrassment radiating off of him.

Mr. Stark scrubbed a hand over his face tiredly. "Okay. Well, we obviously know that he's not struggling in those subjects, so—"

"Actually," Principal Morita looked further down the paper with a frown. "While the other two are just missing assignments, P.E. has quite a few failed tests and low grades."

Something very amused worked its way onto Mr. Stark's exhausted face. "Right. Of course."

"Either way," Principal Morita folded his hands on the desk. He smiled tensely, but respectfully kept his gaze locked on Mr. Stark's. "The best step forward now is to take Peter out of these AP classes—"

"No."

Morita swallowed his words immediately. He cleared his throat and tried again, feeling himself deflate after such a blunt shutdown. "I understand that you think Peter is capable enough to be in these classes, and I understand that he's smart, but if he's struggling with the workload, then it—"

"No," Mr. Stark repeated, his eyes going cold. "That's bullshit. Listen to me— have you seen his test scores?"

"Yes, sir, I—"

"He deserves to be in advanced classes," Mr. Stark leaned forward, jabbing his finger into the desk to enunciate his statement. "He's smart. He's really smart. Put him in a normal class and he'll be so bored he might as well quit."

"Mr. Stark," Peter pleaded quietly from the side, looking all too much the part of an embarrassed son. "C'mon, it's not a big deal."

"No," Mr. Stark said again. He leaned back again in his chair restlessly. "You're not putting the kid in the standard curriculum. He understands the material he's learning. It shows on the tests. C'mon, all the stuff that's missing is just busy-work. It's not that hard to understand."

Peter blew out a breath from his lips and hid his face again.

"With all due respect," Morita said, feeling the conversation sliding out of his hands. The look on Mr. Stark's face was fierce and protective, and somehow icy enough to make the temperature drop. "I just believe it's something to consider. No decision is final."

Mr. Stark narrowed his eyes. He suddenly clicked his tongue and smiled sharply. "Here's something to consider— how about you extend the deadline for all his late work to next Friday, and the kid will turn it all in by then. He'll fix his grade, and you won't have to bother me with all this bullshit of telling me my kid is 'struggling' academically."

As well as being sensible, confident, and respectable, Principal Morita also thought himself to be a wise man. And, as previously mentioned, he knew the look of a disgruntled parent. He wasn't expecting to see the look on renowned scientist Tony Stark, but it was all the same.

So, he gave the man his brightest smile and nodded. "I think that sounds like a good solution, Mr. Stark. I can also refer Peter to our student-tutor program—"

"Not needed." Mr. Stark stood up. "Is that all? We're all good here?"

"Uh," Principal Morita nodded firmly. "Yes. Yes, that's all. Thank you for coming, Mr. Stark."

Mr. Stark only grunted his acknowledgment. He turned to Peter. "What's your last class?"

"Spanish," Peter mumbled into his hands.

"You failing that one too?"

Peter shook his head.

"Great." Mr. Stark huffed a breath and clapped his hands with finality. "I'll be taking Peter home early."

Peter's face jerked up from where it had been hiding, his eyes full of surprise. Still, he didn't ask questions. He got up, swinging his backpack onto his shoulder and stumbling forward to stand next to Mr. Stark.

"Sure, of course," Morita said lamely, adrenaline fading away and leaving him just in shock. "Just sign out with Sherry, and he can go."

He watched the pair leave his office and go to the other side of the front desk. He only got up from his seat once they were safely out the front door.

He trailed over to Sherry's desk and the two of them shared an equally rattled expression.

Working at Midtown Tech should definitely be listed as one of New York's most stressful jobs.