It Starts with a Spark

The one and only highlight to my day to my first day at The School was this: I got back my baby. Given that I was raised in a carnival by my archery obsessed big brother, I'd always drooled over cars. I didn't speak car, no it was one of the few languages I wasn't fluent in. But god, I could admire cars for hours.
So really it wasn't that surprising that Clint had gotten me a car when I was only fifteen. of course it wasn't just any car. It was The Car. My Baby. A beautiful cherry red 1968 Copo Camaro. The car I had drooled over for years. I.Was. In. Love. With.That.Car. Then, six months ago, Clint (while drunk driving a jet pack) had an accident with my car.
Funnily enough, Steve (who is like fourty years older than the car) knew exactly how to fix it. So that had been his project between like saving the world and stuff. He'd texted me this morning, saying that he'd finished it.
As soon as he pulled up I began to bounce on the balls of my feet. God it was beautiful! I felt like a child on Christmas morning, waiting to open presents; all energetic and over excited. Of course every good moment has to be ruined so I wasn't too surprised that I felt someone watching me. Sure enough when I turned around, I came face-to-face to a very smug looking Peter Parker.
Suddenly I became hyper-aware of everything. How close he was, close enough that if I leaned just a breathe forward our lips would touch. The way he smelled, (which was like cinnamon) This boy was dangerous.
"Nice car," he said smirking at me, he peered at it for a second. "Is that your boyfriend?" he asked sharply. Boyfriend? Like who my car? As I turned I remembered Steve!
"Uh.. no." I said stuttered lamely. he shrugged like he hadn't really cared. "Later Pixie." he said then proceeded to turn and skateboard away. Leaving me standing there, dumbfounded like an idiot. What the hell had happened?
"C'mon Anna!" yelled Steve. Snapping back to myself, i ran into the car.
After convincing Steve that, yes I was sure I could drive us home, it was my car god damn it. I drove us home, on only back roads and five miles under the speed limit. It was worse driving with them then with Bruce, the claustriphobic freak.
"So, who was that boy?" asked Steve, overly curious.
"Huh? Of that was Peter. He's just some guy I met in school. He's my lab partner for this year." I said, I could feel Steve's eye's on me, but I knew, with all honesty that I would never be anything more with Peter Parker, ever. "He was standing real close for him to be just "your lab partner" ." he said using air quotes. I rolled my eyes. We'd reached my house "Well, that's all he is. he just said he liked my car." I said, Steve sighed, running a finger through his hair. "Just be careful." he said, as I pulled up to our house. "Are you staying for dinner?' I asked, Steve shrugged, "I want to talk to your brother." was all he said as he climbed out.
I was still mad at Clint, being mad was just one of those things I was really good at. I couldn't help it. I was easily irratated. But so were a lot of people, like Uncle Bruce (Who hates that I call him that. But he was the one that pointed out he was old enough to be my father.) Tony just liked to piss people off, whenever he could. I was quite that sadisitic. But, I could hold a mean grudge.
I turned off the car, grabbed my bag and headed inside. I managed to get through the door, Clint must have left some boxes in front of it again. Last night, he'd been opening boxes and left a stack right in front of the bathroom door. I was going to move the boxes, Clint obviously wasn't going to, but then stopped. If he wasn't going to move them, well neither was I.
I walked up to my room, weaving my way through all of Clint's things, bumping into a box here and there. I was going to have to be careful otherwise everyone would think that I was abused. Not that Clint had ever, or could ever raise a hand against me. It was our one rule, we never took our anger out on the other person. So sure, paying wrestling matches happened, but we never fought, at least not physically. We never fought, like ever. Maybe playfully, but never a serious I'm really mad at you fight. We just never had a reason too. We always saw eye-to-eye on almost everything, and even then, it wasn't ever about anything big. but the move. The move was the one thing Clint hadn't talked to me about. He came into my room at S.H.E.I.L.D. and told me. Didn't ask me about it, he just told me that's what we were doing. I had no other choice but to go along with it. It was the first time Clint had ever treated me like a child, someone who isn't capable of making big descions. Someone who can't be trusted. It infuriatated me.
When I finally reached my room, I just wanted to do anything but think about Clint and how mad I was at him. I flopped onto my bed, pulling out my phone. Given that Tony adored me for some, strange reason. He said I was like the lab assistant he never had, but I think he thinks of me as a little sister. He'd given me the latest Stark Tech phones and other fun little gadgets. Which means, that I had the highest quality music player in like the world. Plus I always had access to the latest songs by my favorite band ever; Five Seconds of Summer. While I usually hate boy bands and all they stand for, (don't even mention the fans) I adore 5SOS, I am like their biggest fan. Clint hates them. But I'm always listening to them. I put on my favorite song, Try Hard while I danced around me room, singing along.
After I listened to the entire cd, and was ready to repeat, someone rang our doorbell. I looked out the my window hoping I had a view of the front door, I didn't. I could go downstairs, but I'd have to talk to Clint. It was probaly Jehovah's witnesses. I decided to go downstairs anyways, just as I left my room Clint called up "Anna! We got company!" I rolled my eyes, why couldn't he just tell me who was here? I went down the stairs two at a time, hoping against all hope that it was Nat. She'd listen about Clint, and that Peter boy. She'd understand.
Of course, I was slightly disappointed when I saw it wasn't Nat. She was supposed to be training in New Zealand or something. She couldn't come home until Christmas. It wasn't Fury, thank god but it was someone who already drove me to irrationality and whatever else. It was Peter Parker.
He looked, well he looked perfect to honest. But he'd changed out of his school uniform, and was wearing a plaid shirt and some blue jeans, and hipster-ish glasses. His hair was a floppy mess, sticking up every which way, and he was of course smirking at me.
I, on the other hand knew I must look bad. My hair was wild, my top had been unbuttoned a bit, and I was still wearing my school uniform. I looked like a dork.
"Anna, these are our next neighbors, Peter and May." he said, introducing me. I nodded, Peter smiled
"Actually, Mr. Barton," Clint and I winced, Mr. Barton was our dad, "Please," Clint said "Just call me Clark." "Clark," Peter amended "Anna and I have already met. We go to school together." he said. Clint turned to me
"You do?" he asked, he looked hurt, like I wanted to come talking to him about a boy.
"I hadn't gotten a chance to catch up with you yet." I said flustered, Peter smirked, as if amused by my by being flustered.
Needless to say my day just got a whole lot messier.

Notes