Peter really really hate science class.
Why wouldn’t he? All the work material is way under his level, (Seriously, he could do this test in his sleep) and then the teachers had the audacity to make it so if there’s an exam, it's school wide. Everyone takes an exam for a specific class they’re in. and it’s always at the end of the day.
They claimed it was “more efficient” whatever the hell that means.
Also, peter can barely fucking read the thing. The words are indubitably way too small to be legal.
Besides trying to figure out what the hell the sheets say, Exams are typically incredibly easy to finish, (For him atleast, hes heard multiple people complain about the actual science questions, and he doesn’t understand why.) and he’s usually done fairly quickly.
So of course, the one time Peter forgets to put his phone in his bag, is in one of the most important exams of his grade.
Peters spidey-sense goes off before it happens, and Peter desperately hopes its a false alarm. He cannot miss this exam.
Of course it wasn’t. It just wasn’t as dangerous as he thought it would be.
His phone vibrates, not enough for anyone to actually hear it, but Peter could feel it buzz in his pocket, his enhanced hearing also picked up on it.
Peter already finished his work by now, but he’s figured out that teachers do not like when he hands a supposed “hard test” in early, and apparently neither do his peers, so he has to act like he’s still working on it. (He’s pretty sure the teachers can tell he’s done anyways, but oh well. Atleast he tries.)
Peter looked around to see if anybody noticed, nobody did. Peter figured since he was already done, he could see what the message was, right?
He took his phone out of his pocket and turned it on, seeing that the notification was from Tony.
Now, don’t get Peter wrong, he’s happy Tony finally started messaging him back, but most of the time it’s just boring old people stuff, ‘Dinners ready.”, ‘I heard you skipped class, stay in school.’ stuff like that.
He also constantly teased Peter about not being able to type very well, it’s not peters fault he types fast! Well, maybe it is, but there is no way he’s telling Tony that. If anything, it’s Tonys fault for always telling him to hurry up when he’s typing too slow!
(If him from a year ago knew he was blaming something on Tony, he’d probably scoff and then faint.)
Peter opens the text message and has to hold back some vaguely human noise that hes pretty sure was been a mix between a groan and a laugh.
Tony literally just sent him a invitation to play 8-ball.
In the middle of an exam.
Great.
Toeny
Lets play 8-ball!
[8-ball invitation, with the words “Lets Play 8-Ball!” is ontop of the message. “Come Join My 8-Ball Lobby!” Automatically sent after]
1:36pm
Now, peter would gladly reject the offer, if it wasn’t for the fact he had a deal with Tony.
They were allowed to send each other an invitation once a day whenever, and whoever rejects it, or loses the match, has to do the chores that day.
Peters fairly sure this is payback for when he sent Tony an invitation in the middle of his meeting.
He seriously regrets ever agreeing to this.
He thinks for a moment to turn his volume down, then thinks its probably down anyways.
He really should have turned it down.
He clicks on the photo and it bring him to the classic 8-ball game. He focuses on the game and breaks first, not noticing the stares from practically everyone in the hall from the game noises coming from his phone.
He continues to play and hears someone clearing their throat, and pays no mind to them.
They clear it louder.
Peter types “1 sec” in the 8-ball chat, and looks up.
To see everyone staring right at him.
“Mr Parker. were you. . playing 8-ball in the middle of an exam..?” Peter hears Mr Harrington say, sounding exasperated.
“Um . . . would you believe me if I said that’s my ringtone?” Peter half-smiles.
“No.”
“Yeah I was playing 8-ball.”
Mr Harrington sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose and then looks back up at Peter.
“Well, since you so kindly gained everyone’s attention, I’d like to announce something.” Every eye in the gymnasium turned to Mr. Harrington at this.
“Get back to work!” Mr. Warren snapped before Mr. Harrington could continue.
There was a few grumbles but everybody eventually went back to their work, with a few sour looks towards Mr. Warren and curious glances towards Mr Harrington every once in a while.
Peters spidey-sense went off again as he put his phone away, (he won. Obviously.)
This time he could tell it was actual danger.
Close to the school.
He quickly got up, pointedly ignoring the stares sent his way as he speed-walked to the front and gave his paper to Mr. Harrington.
“All done! Got to go! Bye!” Peter said, sprinting out before Mr. Harrington could even process what just happened.
Peter found out that it was some petty robbery attempt at an old ATM in front of his school that nobody even uses.
He stopped them fairly quick, and went patrolling.
It wasn’t too long before he received a call from Mr. Harrington that has his phone number for some reason.
Peter didn’t think he did anything wrong, and plus, it’s still exam time.
Just as he was about to answer the phone call, the small Café he walked into got shot up.
He sighed and answered the call from his teacher as he fought.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Everybody in the gym looked up at the noise of ringing coming from Mr. Harringtons phone. When there was an answer, he spoke up, making sure the phone was on speaker.
“Mr. Parker, would you like to explain where you ran off to?” Mr. Harrington, peters teacher, asked, raising an eyebrow even though peter couldnt see it.
Everybody else in the room held their breath, waiting to hear what peter was going to say.
“SORRYMRHARRINGTONCANTREALLYTALKRIGHTNOWWOOAH—” there was sounds of gunshots and the sound of someone getting punched and multiple sounds of metal clashing metal.
Then, after one particularly loud gunshot, Peter yelped.
“OH GODDAMNIT- DID YOU JUST SHOOT ME DUDE!?” Peters voice was heard, sounding slightly muffled, before the call ended.
Everyone just sat there in silence for a good minute.
Mr. Harrington clearing his throat, “Well, don’t worry! I’m sure he’s fine! Back to work!” he said, not sounding so sure himself.
Either way, everybody, albeit begrudgingly, went back to work.
Soon enough, nobody even remembered the incident.
Somehow.