Summary:A foreign exchange student needs a little help fitting in…and her assigned student escort needs a little help helping her. Log Info:Storyteller: None |
Related LogsTheme SongNone |
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"Mister Parker, report to the principal's office. Peter Parker, principle's office."
An inevitable tide of titters and mocking laughter follows Peter's path to the admin area. Mostly students relieved that *they* aren't being hauled off by the collar.
When Peter arrives he's sent directly to the office, where a cracked door invites him in. Principal Morita beckons Peter inside. "Peter, come in. Was hoping you'd take our new exchange student for a tour of the school."
The redhead sitting in front of Morita's desk stands up…and up…and up, six-foot-four in her sandals and with thick red hair that hangs to her waist with an improbable amount of tumbling volume. She flashes a beaming smile of greeting at Peter.
"This is Kori Anderson. Kori is from Malta," Morita explains. "I thought you'd be perfect for showing her around, and it gets you out of fifth period."
"Hello, friend Peter!" the Amazonian girl says enthusiastically. "I am Koria— Kori Anderson, and I am very happy to make the meeting of you." She's dressed pretty casually by dress code standards; brief jean shorts and a cream-colored T-shirt that advertises 'The Fantastics 2014 Tour' in faded print. Bright rainbow suspenders run over her shoulders.
Peter is a little surprised to be pulled out of class, but he isn't too worried. He's acing Physics, anyway.
He *is* surprised by the appearance of the lady in front of him. She's…very athletic. Very tall, too, standing a good six inches higher than he is.
For a moment, he is bereft of speech. Then, he holds out his hand to Kori. "Peter Parker, Miss Anderson. I'm…pleased to meet you, too."
Morita smiles. "Miss Anderson, I think you will see why we have chosen Peter to be your guide. He is softspoken, but very polite. He is also one of the brightest students this institution is honored to instruct."
Peter smiles in a hangdog way. The "genius" is about 5'10", wearing a loose, baggy flannel shirt and loose jeans, with tennis shoes and a watch.
Kori looks down at Peter's hand. It takes her a second to realize what he's doing and with a great and weirdly sincere sense of ceremony, she shakes his hand once. Then she leans down and air-kisses near his cheekbones without any trace of self-consciousness. "He does not speak the softly," Kori corrects Morita. "I can hear him quite well. Or—" she drops her voice. "Is it impolite to speak above a whisper here?" She looks nervous.
Morita looks from Kori to Peter. His expression suggests he's been fielding a lot of those questions. "Peter can… explain everything. You two enjoy yourselves. Kori, welcome to Midtown High."
Kori picks up a small cloth bag held shut by drawstrings and falls into step with Peter as they move into the hallway. "I am grateful to you for the assistance, Peter Parker." Kori walks while looking down at Peter, somewhat heedless of anyone in front of her. "You have been attending this school for some time, yes?" she inquires. Her voice is sweet and almost lyrical. "You must have many friends and allies here! Are you the 'president of the body of students' I have read about?"
Peter smiles wryly. There's something about her. She's just so…EXUBERANT. Even walking, she seems to be holding back. He could understand that, a little. She was just…larger than life.
"Well, just call me by my first name, Peter. And I can call you Kori, if you don't mind." The halls are still fairly empty, with classes still going on. So, maybe he can let her down easy before reality decides to bite him.
"I don't hold any official title, Kori. I have a few friends here."
"Hey! PARKER!"
Peter winced. Flash HAD been missing from attendance…
A taller senior (but still a few inches shorter than Kori) is right behind him, along with two of his friends. Flash, with O'Reilly and "Tiny" McKeever.
All three of them looked up at Kori's face, and Flash grinned. "Wow, Parker…you look even SMALLER next to the foxy lady here. Man, she part of the girl's basketball team?"
"She should be," Tiny said with a grin.
The three athletes closed the distance, then Flash looked to Peter. "Well?" One hand came up to slap Peter in the back of the head. "Brain-dusters," he called them. "Aren't you going to introduce us to your…daaaate?"
Tiny grinned. "Him? Date her?"
Peter responded, "Actually, she's an exchange student from Malta. I'm showing her around, giving her the ten-cent tour. Kori…meet EUGENE Thompson, quarterback. Brian McKeever, and Seymour O'Reilly, wide receivers."
Peter took a little pleasure in calling "Flash" by his given name.
"I do not 'the mind', no," Kori assures Peter. "I hope I am not being rude, By My First Name, Peter," she tells him. "I am not accustomed to your Ea— New York traditions. The ritual of the subway car is still somewhat foreign to me."
She stops in place when Flash and his cronies approach, her smile politely fixed. There's some backbone in the redhead. Flash's approach provokes virtually no response from her aside from a quizzical expression at his remark.
"I am not a member of the family Canidae," Kori says, correcting Flash with meticulous politeness. "Nor am I a 'basket of the ball'. But I understand your confusion. Like the fox, my hair is very red," she says, and touches it with the sort of smiling expression some men might interpret as flirtatious signalling.
Before Flash's smile can broaden, Kori remarks: "But if you suffer from a congenital visual deficiency, I can understand why you might be confused."
There's a moment of stunned silence and Kori looks back to Peter, then at Flash. "Eugene Thompson, the quarter-back. I do not know this term," she says sorrowfully. "Nor 'receivers'. Do you receive something from these two? Or do they receive something of yours?" Fingers wiggle back and forth. "You three are clearly very close to one another, though I am surprised your 'reception' costs but a quarter. Or do you pay him for his delivery?"
"And specifically, what is it you two deliver to and/or from one another?"
Peter is about to answer, but Flash silences him with a look. "Quiet, King of Geeks. ADULTS are talking."
He grins back to Kori. "It's a sport called football. Guess ya haven't been around much to know about it, but that's cool. When you can finally ditch the twerp, come on over to the football field. Parker here can give you directions."
"Hey, Flash, we gotta hustle. Coah Murch will have our heads if we don't report in PDQ."
Flash shrugs. "We'll just tell him we stopped to give the Brain a remedial lesson. He'll understand."
Peter inwardly groaned. Murch didn't like him much, either.
O'Reilly smiled up at Kori, then leaned over to whisper something to Peter that caused him to tense slightly. Then he drew back and waved. "Seeya, Kori. Check us out when you get bored of him."
And off they went, chuckling and having a good old time.
Peter inhaled, then exhaled, relaxing. He looked to Kori, then said, "So…shall we continue the tour? What part of the school would you like to see?"
Kori's already walking after the football players, intrigued. When she realizes she may be getting ahead of Peter, she stops and waits patiently for him to catch her up. "Your friends seem very interesting, By My First Name, Peter," she advises him. "Their powerful physiques and rugged features indicates significant testosterone levels. I am not an expert on such matters, but they seem significantly more physically developed than you as well. Is this an issue of genetics, or are they members of a warrior caste? Such would explain their efforts to intimidate you physically."
"I understand such attributes are very desirable among females here. I wish to see what this game of 'the balled foot' is like," she announces.
In short order, Koriandr's heading to the practice field. The cheerleaders are practicing their own routines while the footballers run their drills. Instead of stopping on the edge of the pitch she walks straight out into the middle of the field and stares at the players with unbridled curiosity.
Peter finds he has to trot in order to keep up with her. Long legs, long strides, and she is focused. He says as he jogs to catch up to her, "Actually, you can call me 'Peter.'" He is able to keep up at that trotting speed.
As they get to the field, players in uniform are running drills—one with a gauntlet of heavy bags the players have to push past, running drills, throwing, catching, and learning how to change course without losing speed or momentum.
"We could…sit in the stands over here and watch them. It's a very physical sport."
As Peter heads to the stands, he speaks quickly. "Football…is a game of physical activity. Each team tries to move towards the opposite end of the field with that oval-shaped ball, the football. It can be carried, or thrown from one to another, in order to get it to the goal, or 'end zone.' But it's also a game of strategy, since you have two teams going up against each other…"
He continues to describe the basics of the game. He is no great fan, but he understands logistics and strategy.
"By My friend Peter, I must admit I am embarrassed," Kori tells Peter. "You said you held no rank, but then you are called King! These Nerds must be very intelligent to survive such a divisive caste environment." She ducks her head with a serene graciousness. "I hope I am offering no rudeness to your regal status."
"Oh, yes! The ritual exchanging of the telephone numbers." Kori fishes a phone from her back pocket. It's not a modern phone by any means and looks heavily used. "Give to me the digits of your telephone, and I will save them forever in this mo-bile device."
She's visibly getting Peter's number well onto the gridiron. But when he goes right, she goes straight— directly towards the players, and towards the middle of a drill. There's a shout, the snap, the ball goes flying in a tight spiral at the receiver. Instead of him catching it, though, Kori holds a hand up and catches the ball in one hand with no visible effort.
The coach's whistle screeches angrily and the entire practice team grinds to a halt. Helmets are removed as the players gawk at Kori. The cheerleading team sends her a mixed bag of looks and glares as well.
"What the hell are you doing on my field, girl?" the coach bellows, storming towards Kori.
"I am doing none of 'the hell'!" Kori calls back, cheerfully. "I wished to see the game of the balled foot! I am here with my friend, By My First Name Peter, who is Peter Parker, who is King of the Nerds!" she announces, in a clarion voice that.
Everyone.
Hears.
Especially in the classroom windows open to the field.
Wow. The Parker Luck seemed to be paying out like a slot machine hitting the jackpot.
"Actually, it's supposed to be a…" And his voice trails off as Kori bolts onto the field, fleet as a deer, and then she catches the ball without any effort at all. Definitely athletic.
Then he starts moving towards her. Interrupting practice was bad, but maybe he could get her off the field before it got worse.
Then she made her declaration, and it suddenly got very…VERY…worse.
There had been a moment of perfect silence, and then the laughter started. First from the football team, and wouldn't you know it, Flash was there among them. Out of uniform, but leading the vocal charge.
Then he could hear laughter from a couple of classrooms, and his cheeks burned with embarrassment. He was in his own tiny little Hell, and Kori was…
He looked at her, and the sudden flash of anger ebbed. She didn't know. She didn't know who he was in this school, what kind of reputation he had…
For a minute, he thought, *I can't go out there. I'm a laughingstock.*
Then he realized he was already a laughingstock, and nothing was going to change that.
He walked over to Kori, wishing he had a mask right now, and said, "Better give them the ball back so they can continue practicing."
Tiny called out, "Hey look! A mouse moving a mountain!" That was good for a few additional laughs.
All Peter could think was, *If you find yourself going through Hell…KEEP GOING.*
"Oh, am I interrupting some ritual?" Kori's mouth forms an 'O' of surprise. "My apologies! I thought this was a sporting event because of your clumsy movements. But the primitive patterns and repetition should have informed me." She smiles beatifically at the coach when he storms over. "Hello! I see from your hat that you are 'The Coach'." She abruptly leans towards him several inches with an index finger hooked over her chin, eyes narrowed in thought. Her motion stuns him for a moment. "But I see from your sagging belly and thinning hair that you are not only the eldest here, but also approaching the age of infertility. It is generous of you to donate your time to these young boys!" She gestures at the football players. Literally everything she says is just shy of a shout in volume. It doesn't seem like she's aware of it. "They may make fine men one day. Hopefully relatively few of them die in service to your traditions." She leans towards the coach and drops her voice to something approaching a 'conversational tone'. "That one Eugene, with the buttocks of the tightness? He would be best sacrificed. He is clearly violently irrational and has a low intelligence compared to that of my friend, King Parker."
The coach stares at Kori, shell-shocked. "Y-you.. what the … did you just.. say…" He starts turning red and spluttering.
"I am sorry for interrupting your 'the practice'," Kori tells the Coach. She nods at Peter and takes the ball in hand, then throws it at Flash.
It hits him in the sternum with enough force that he goes down like a hunted stag, crumbling into a pile on the ground. Kori covers her mouth. "Oh my goodness! I am so sorry!" she calls. She turns to Peter, covering her face with both hands. "My shame is great! I have prematurely wounded the ritual beast. I did not realize he was so fragile and delicate!" Her large green eyes get watery and she drops her face on Peter's shoulder, hugging him with a bone-cracking embrace. "Now he will be surely killed for lameness and his sacrifice gone to waste!"
Peter did his best to hustle Kori off the field. It was like when he was nine and was trying to move the Great Dane he was dog-sitting out of the neighbor's yard. He looked back at Flash, then said, "He'll be okay, but he might WISH to be sacrificed after the damage you did to his ego."
"Listen, Kori, let's get out of here. We're drawing a little too much attention."
The laughter, the harsh acidic kind that lets you know they are laughing AT you, not WITH you, is fading as the other player go to check on how Eugene is doing. They have a big game in two days, and he can't be benched now.
Peter tries to aim Kori for a spot away from the bleachers, in the parking lot where the buses pick up and drop off students. "This way…" he says, trying to sound encouraging.
"Oh! Yes, of course, friend By My First Name, Peter," Kori agrees, and turns on her heel to follow Peter off the field. "Wait, do not get too far ahead of me!" she bids him, trotting two steps. "I have not yet saved your 'the digits' to my 'the phone'," she reminds Peter. Her voice carries and the hostile dismissal sent his way suddenly turns into surprised speculation.
"I am unsure if I wish to participate in this game anyway," she reassures him. "The players seem largely crude and unintelligent, and I am worried about their fragility." This is all said before they duck under the bleachers and cross to the lot.
"I hope I am not being 'the rude'," Kori assures Peter. "I am thinking upon it and I believe some of those ritual players were attempting to be 'the mean' to you. This seems unworthy of them as warriors, though given their fragility and lack of distinguishing characteristics, it may simply be insecurity among them compared to your favorable intellect," she promises him.
Peter guides Kori to one of the stone benches and sits down with her, looking into her face. Then, oddly…he smiles.
"Kori…this is adolescence. It can be rough sometimes. Football is easier, at least you know who your opponents are. And I don't judge people, even the ones who are mean and selfish. I'm not perfect. I can handle people being mean. It's happened my whole life. But I was lucky to have an aunt and uncle who loved me, who taught me right from wrong, and they taught me that you can be strong by not responding to mean people by being mean back. Because everyone has problems. So we can just try to help who we can." He sighs. "You are very strong and athletic, Kori. So you have to be careful around people who aren't as physically powerful as you. But there is not a lot of life-and-death situations in high school. As my Uncle Ben said, tomorrow is another day to start again." He chuckled. "I never thought you were rude. If anything, all you are is uninformed. I can try to help you with that. I get the feeling English is not your first language. It can be confusing at times. But I can try to answer any questions you have."
Peter pauses, then takes out a small notepad from his jeans pocket and writes his phone number on the newest sheet of clean paper. He tears it off, revealing a number of pages filled with scrawled notes and rough diagrams, and hands the slip to Kori. "My number."
Kori nods along with Peter, her expression one of wry sympathy. Even compassion. She seems intently trying to express her empathy for his situation and his commentary. She looks down at the sheet of paper in his hand. It takes a second for her to jog along and start tapping the number into her phone. She looks up at Peter, mouth working silently, then frets her lower lip at him.
"Friend By My First Name, Peter, I… I know I am new. And I appreciate your wise advice. I hope that I can continue to be around a clearly noble spirit like yourself. But…" She touches his shoulder, drifting closer to him. Her eyes are wide and intensely focused on Peter as her voice drops. "I have a question. I am very confused about things at the moment and I think you can make them more certain for me."
She leans towards Peter with little regard for casual space, inches away. She smells of pineapples and warm beaches. "If this is 'an adolescence', then I am in the wrong place. I am supposed to attend 'the high school'." She frowns, perplexitude washing over her regal features.
She is…very close. A little too close. Were he a lesser man, he might mistake it for some concept of "love at first sight." But he thinks it is something else.
Peter smiles thoughtfully. "'Adolescence' is when a child becomes an adult. It is the process of that transition. It takes years as the body changes and matures. 'High school' is a stage of learning, with children learning things they should know as adults, what they want to learn more about, and who they want to be. It's where you develop the gifts you have, and learn how to use them." Peter smiles wryly. "And it's not 'By My First Name, Peter.' It's 'Peter.' You can also use 'Pete,' if you are more comfortable with that." His face withdraws just out of personal space range. "And you can ask me any question. If I know the answer, I'll tell you. If I don't, I'll tell you that I don't. If I can't tell you for personal reasons, I will tell you that I can't tell you. But I will always tell you the truth."
"Oh, Joy!" Kori abruptly sweeps Peter up in a back-cracking hug. She's not just tall, she's built like a brick house and there is not a lot of 'give' in her arms. "Hooray! We shall be the best of friends, because there is nothing of greater value than a trusted friend!"
"Eeeee! You are making me shiver with 'the excitement!'" she squeals, and swings Peter back and forth. "I am so glad I have your gift of 'the digits'," she tells him. "I foresee us spending much time together in the days to come. I just hope you can teach me all that I need to know as a woman going through 'the adolescence'," Kori tells Peter. She sets him down on his heels. "Come! Let us return to the school so I can continue to learn of 'the high school'," she prompts Peter, and turns on her heel to start walking that way.
There' a noise behind Peter. The entire defensive line is staring at him through a gap between the bleachers, slack-jawed. Flash is nursing a bruised sternum and still having trouble breathing. Every one of the players watches Kori leave, then turns their eyes to Peter with stunned shock. It seems they caught the conversation somewhere around the 'I'm so excited!' comment.
"…goddamn, Parker," one of them remarks, with audible envy.
He has to admit, being embraced by Kori is a very pleasant experience. She has that lively energy, like you can't help but smile when in its presence. But he knows better than to think it is more than just gratitude. But friendship?
Yeah…friendship is pretty cool. And a guy like him can use all the friends he can get.
He is aware of the team looking at him. Should he smirk? Make some quip about her?
No. He was brought up better than all of that.
He doesn't even respond. Anything he says might cheapen it. He simply shrugs, then goes to follow Kori. As powerful as she is, he can still help her in some way…and helping people is what he had promised to do.
The tour takes them through the school, looping through the floors. Kori's definitely a strange one. She burbles at the fish in the biology lab. In the chemistry lab, she has to be admonished not to stick her fingers in the beakers and phials.
Peter and Kori make it four steps into the shop class room before the teacher turns them firmly around. "Not with THAT hair without a hairnet," he scolds Kori, and the two are ejected from the room firmly.
"Rude! This is the customary way for me to wear my hair!" Kori protests to Peter. "The braiding and binding of hair is reserved for war and ritual only. Only in the ceremony of the matrimonies would I wear my hair in any other way. The nerve!" She fumes, as if the man had paid her a dreadful insult.
The bell rings for sixth period, and signals the start of third shift lunch in the cafeteria.
Peter looks apologetically to Mr. Thompson, then looks to Kori. War and ritual? Something is interesting in the state of Malta. "Actually, Kori, it is a safety measure. Long hair tends to get caught in the machinery this machine shop has. It's just to keep your hair from getting caught." He points to another student, who is sporting a rather respectable beard, and who also is just taking off the hairnet over his chin area. "He wears that for the same reason."
He checks his watch. "Listen, Kori, this is actually my lunch period. Since you're on the same schedule, maybe I can familiarize you with American's easy adaptation of the cuisine of various cultures?"
"Oh!" Kori's visage immediately shifts. "Well, then I should return and thank him later for his thoughtfulness. That is a very prudent policy."
She looks at Peter's watch as well when he does, and before he can drop his arm, she loops her elbow around his forearm. It's a gesture she clearly has not quite mastered, because she ends up hooking Peter's forearm in her elbow. "This is how they do 'the escorting' is it not?" she inquires of Peter. "Some food would be delicious, in any case. I hope you have the mustard and spicy pickles, and much vinegar," she informs him. "Much of your food here is too sweet and salty for my preference. "But it is deep-friend in delicious batter, which makes it all the better. The food on this pl— this city is so diverse! In Malta our food is rather bland and heavily 'of the spice'."
Peter nodded, then walked with Kori. The height difference was soon evident as her elbow shifted up for comfort until it is resting just below his armpit. He suddenly stops at the entrance to the common feeder line for the cafeteria, studying the menu while wondering how much he had in his wallet.
"Uhm, Kori…do you have any American currency? We will have to pay for our food."
"Oh, the 'dollah bills'! Yes, I have several of thems!" Kori unslings her bag and digs into it while walking. She doesn't bull anyone over per se, but she's simply so tall and projects such utter control of her self that people in the lunch room give way. The looks Kori and Peter receive are definitely a mixed bag, but they're far from universally mocking or hostile.
She makes a noise of triumph and comes up with a tight roll of at least a thousand dollars in $20. "Yes, see! I brought my money from my last paycheck. I was not sure how much 'the high schools' would cost. Is this enough for lunch for the two of us?" She puts the wad of cash into Peter's hand to evaluate. The idea he might rip her off doesn't even seem to occur to her.
Peter blinked as he looked at the roll of 20s. He had a pretty good idea that it was a lot of money. More than he made in the last couple of weeks. And they WERE running a little late on the ConEd bill…
Down, Boy.
Peter pulled out two of the 20s, handing the roll back to Kori. "This should be enough for a sizable amount of food, depending on how hungry you are." He gave her the two bills back separately afterward. "And I am flattered you trust me, but we should probably schedule a short lesson in Money Handling later today. Another cultural aspect you should be better off being informed of." He looked to the menu, then took out his phone, a battered Samsung Galaxy S5, and did a quick search. "Here. They are serving a dish called rouladen. Thinly sliced beef wrapped around a pickle with a mustard sauce. How does that sound?"
"Ooh! The pickled cucumbers are one of my favorites!" Kori sings, and pirouettes happily in place. "And the sauce of mustard! This must be a very good 'the high school'," she tells Peter. He gets ahead of her in line and she carefully emulates everything he does, side-step shuffle through the stainless maze of cafeteria workers, Sterno, and sneeze guards.
She taps the glass with a fingernail. "Ooh! The food must be very valuable as well, if you are concerned that people will steal it!"
"Tell me more of the school and the factions here," Kori prompts Peter. "I notice there are many dressed in identical ritual garb. I am having difficulty discerning their roles. The ones in the matching skirts and sleeveless shirts, they are … performers?" she hazards. "Or are they your concubines? Those wearing the badly clashing clothing seem to know you," she says, and turns to look at the 'nerd table'. Several people wave at Peter. She waves back, sparking a minor apoplexy among a few of them.
It's at that moment that Peter's senses would detect urgent danger, and there's a whiff of BO, Axe, a wet locker room and overcompensating aggression from behind him.
Peter is about to describe the concepts of 'cliques' and similar groupings when the Spider-Sense squalls behind him.
O'Reilly figured they owed him. After Peter's girlfriend made Flash look like a fool in front of the entire cheerleading squad, a little payback was in order.
And if it was in front of Mount Girlfriend, so much the better.
He aimed, then let his fist fly…
Only it went wrong. Peter suddenly dropped his wallet and bent down to grab it at the exact time the fist pistoned out, swatting at empty air. O'Reilly swiftly found himself overbalancing forward, and as Peter got up and turned around, O'Reilly was tugged forward, landing flat on his back in the cafeteria line.
Such a horrible accident—the man had lunged forward, but lost his balance and fell forward to land on his back, without laying a finger on Peter.
Peter looked to his left, looking startled before looking to Kori. "Jeez, Seymour, you should be more careful…getting a little clumsy, aren't you?"
"Oh no! He has fallen over!" Kori sets aside her tray and reaches down to help O'Reilly up to his feet. She's such a considerate person. Hands curl into his shirt and with a surprising lack of assistance from O'Reilly he's suddenly standing again. Someone looking closely might see his heels aren't quite on the ground. "That looked terribly painful! I am glad you did not hurt yourself." She lifts him up an inch and then sets him on his heels, *hard*. The bully is a coward at heart and O'Reilly is no different. He starts beating feet away from the duo, confused and disoriented.
"Friend Peter," Kori mumbles, in an *actual* whisper. "Please do not react with alarm. But I have 'the worry'. I believe he intended to strike you before he tripped! And the rest of the ritual sacrifices are comforting him now behind us."
Peter looked to Seymour, then shrugged. "Oh, well. I wouldn't worry about them." He pointed to an older lady who was advancing on the group, a frown on her face. "They seem to have their own problems. C'mon, let's get something to eat. I think I'll try some of that rouladen, as well."