Recommendation Letter
"Mr. Harrison, please," Peter begged. "A recommendation letter from you would go a long way."
Mr. Harrison sighed. "I'm sorry, Peter, but I honestly believe that it wouldn't benefit you if I did. You've skipped my class multiple times, and you disappear on decathlon meetings and field trips."
Peter's shoulders sagged. "But I'm one of your smartest kids. I have excellent marks, and-"
"I'm not saying you're not intelligent," Mr. Harrison said, raising a hand to cut him off. "What I'm saying is that your attitude towards school hasn't been the best, and I wouldn't want to jeopardize your chance at a good college."
Peter sighed, catching his bottom lip between his teeth to stop himself from crying. "I understand, Mr. Harrison."
Peter pushed the door to his chemistry class open and walked out, not stopping until he reached the doors that led outside. Quickly deciding, he stalked off to the nearest ally, quickly changing into his suit.
"Hello, Peter," Karen greeted him.
"Hey, Karen," Peter whispered. "Could you send Mr. Stark a message?"
"Sure. What's the message?"
"Hey, Mr. Stark," Peter spoke, watching as his words popped up in front of him. "I'm out patrolling. I'll be back in time for dinner. Send, Karen."
Peter watched the message leave as Karen confirmed it. He swung up to the nearest building and scaled up to the roof. He took a seat on the ledge and watched the streets.
"All right, Karen." Peter sighed and perched on the ledge, ready to swing off. "What do we got today?"
Patrol was quiet; it seemed the bad guys were taking an off day, and Peter was grateful. He had helped a tourist find his hotel, helped a bakery do inventory (read: do all the heavy lifting), and he got a freshly baked eclair in return.
In the quiet afternoon, Peter ate his pastry and thought back to his conversation with Mr. Harrison. His chemistry teacher was right; Peter skipped school more times than he would like to admit; he turned in assignments late and often fell asleep during class lectures. It wasn't entirely his fault. Peter had to balance school work, Spider-Man stuff, Avengers training, lab work with Mr. Stark, and applying to colleges. It was a lot, and Peter was tired.
Peter eventually swung back home, hunger beating his want of being alone. Peter landed on the balcony of the penthouse and stepped inside.
"Hey, Mr. Stark!" Peter greeted, taking his mask off. "I helped this bakery and got this delicious eclair! We should go there and try their donuts!"
Peter stopped in his tracks when he saw Mr. Stark sitting at the island. "Mr. Stark? Are you okay?"
"Take a seat, Peter." Tony motioned at the seat in front of him.
Peter swallowed, and everything he has done in the past three months ran through his mind. He walked with caution and pulled a stool out, taking a seat. "Am I in trouble?"
"No," Mr. Stark said, face softening a bit. "I was returning your laundry, and I accidentally knocked a few things off your desk. You're applying to MIT, huh?"
Peter's face fell, and he sighed. Great. Peter was hoping to have this conversation after getting accepted to MIT. Though without Mr. Harrison's recommendation letter, Peter doesn't think that will be happening, so he might as well be honest. "Yeah."
"Why didn't you tell me?" Mr. Stark asked. "I told you years ago that I have some pull at MIT."
"That's why I didn't tell you."
Mr. Stark's face twisted in confusion. "I'm not following."
"I know that a few words from you, and I would get in, no hesitation," Peter explained.
"I still don't see how that's a problem."
Peter sighed, annoyed that Mr. Stark wasn't catching on. "I don't want MIT, or any college, to accept me only because the great Tony Stark said so. I want to be accepted because I deserve to be, and they think so as well."
Mr. Stark nodded slowly, finally understanding. "Pete, you are one of the smartest kids I know. You can keep up with Brucie and me. Hell, you've taught me things. Any school would be lucky to have you, and if you don't want me to interfere, I won't. But, kid, even if I didn't pull in any favors, they would take you in."
Peter ignored the flush rushing to his cheeks at the compliment. "Thank you, Mr. Stark, but I don't think I'll be getting into MIT."
"What? Why not?"
"My chemistry teacher won't write a recommendation letter," Peter started. "He says that my attitude towards school isn't the best, and it's not like I can tell him that I'm busy doing superhero stuff."
Mr. Stark sighed. "I'm sorry, kid, that teacher's stupid. You know, a rec letter from me would be good."
Peter leveled Mr. Stark with a look but bit the inside of his cheek. "If I say yes, you can't pull any favors or exaggerate in the letter. Just write a simple recommendation letter."
Mr. Stark raised his hands in mock surrender. "You got it. Now, if you excuse me, I gotta go write it."
Peter narrowed his eyes. "You already have it written, don't you?"
"Since last summer," Mr. Stark admitted. "But I have to go, uh, make modifications and narrow it down. Don't think a 12-page letter falls under the 'simple recommendation letter' category."
Peter sighed, shaking his head, but there was a smile on his face. "I'll order the pizzas!"
"Make sure to get-!"
"I know what to do!" Peter cut Mr. Stark off, a laugh bubbling in his chest. Mr. Stark was a handful, but Peter was more than capable of handling him.