Work Text:
Power Trip (Flat on Your Face)
Despite his perpetual cheerful outlook on life in general, Peter Parker loathed injustice more than almost anything else.
Almost.
Because the truth was, he understood that sometimes life just sucked and injustice happened. It wasn’t fair or right, but neither was it malicious, which made it easier to bear.
But sometimes, injustice was deliberately caused by people just because they could, and Peter hated those people with a passion that would have surprised everyone who knew him, with the obvious exception of Ned Leeds.
And several of the teachers at Midtown were the worst offenders.
He couldn’t figure out if they were so insecure that making kids late to another class or lunch or their after-school ride was the only way they could convince themselves they had the respect they so badly craved, or if they were just bullies at heart and thought it was hilarious to force kids to answer their phones on speaker if the thing should have the audacity to ring during class.
Because God forbid someone forgot to silence it, or thought they had and it didn’t take. And woe betide the person who was waiting for news (out of the entire staff of Midtown, two teachers would allow you to have your phone ringer turned up if you told them there was a medical or family situation. Two. Out of almost fifty), especially in one of the non-STEM classes. Pauline Nerone, she who taught the hell known as English Lit, was the absolute worst. Not only did the student have to answer the phone on speaker, he or she had to stand in the front of the room and face their classmates, listening to the teacher writing up a formal detention and report to the principal — while trying to have a normal conversation, because ‘I’m a Bitch’ Nerone wouldn’t allow you to tell the caller they were on speaker.
Suffice to say, everyone in the school hated Pauline Nerone. But her job was secure, because she had the highest ‘pass’ rate among the non-STEM classes (the fact that it was because no one wanted to retake her class was very carefully ignored, which just made her worse), so there was no recourse at all. The board liked her success rate, so the students were told to deal with it. Besides, what could possibly be so important it couldn’t wait an hour?
One Tuesday late in October, Kyra Meyers found out.
When her phone went off, the girl was so startled, she dropped both pen and textbook — which would have told anyone else on the planet that she clearly hadn’t been expecting a call, nor had she realized her phone wasn’t silenced. But Pauline Nerone cared for neither of these facts. A malicious smirk came to her lips as she pointed to the Spot of Shame in front of her desk. Kyra wasn’t quite able to mask her resentful look as she obeyed, which just annoyed the teacher even more, and she made a show of picking up a red pen to write up the detention — which would make it official and on the record, meaning colleges would see it. At the sight, Peter and Ned both had to hold MJ back before she crossed the classroom like she was Hannibal crossing the Alps and hit Nerone over the head with all six pounds of her APUSH textbook. As satisfying at that would be, it wouldn’t change anything, except getting MJ in trouble as well.
Thankfully, at least for the moment, Kyra didn’t see the additional proof of their teacher’s pettiness and came to a defiant stop in front of the desk, her features dark with frustrated anger, but her eyes full of a strong refusal to let this power trip get to her.
Then she answered her phone.
And 33 students and one bitch teacher had the unmitigated horror of hearing and seeing the world of a 17-year-old girl come crashing down.
Peter couldn’t breathe as he — as everyone — listened to someone who clearly didn’t give a damn inform Kyra that her mother, aunt, and cousin had been in a car accident and she was so sorry, but . . .
He didn’t even realize he’d moved, Ned on his heels, but he managed to catch the girl as she collapsed, the phone in her hand slipping to the floor while the hospital worker droned on about making arrangements and contacting any possible guardians, or OCFS if that wasn’t an option, andandand—
“Shut up!” he snapped, voice ringing with an authority that silenced the entire room as he snatched the phone and lifted it to his mouth. The woman from the hospital obeyed as well and for several seconds, there was no sound but Kyra’s heaving breaths and Ned’s quiet murmurs of comfort, while Peter forcibly brought his temper under control. Once he was sure he could talk instead of screaming, he demanded to know what hospital she was at and after getting a stuttered reply, he simply hung up. As if on cue, his own silenced phone began to ring, Black Sabbath’s The Eternal Idol echoing through the still-silent room.
Still furious, Peter shot a venomous glare at Nerone and snarled, “You gonna make me put this on speaker?”
He didn’t even bother to let her process his words before he carefully got up and moved a few steps away, only to stop when Kyra grabbed the hem of his shirt and held on for dear life. Instantly, he dropped to one knee and let her take his free hand, taking a deep breath before murmuring, “Answer him, Karen.”
For a reason no one but Ned understood, the rest of the room was inexplicably nervous about hearing the conversation that was about to ensue (even though they didn’t know who he was talking to and some of it went entirely over their heads).
“Dad! It’s okay, I’m okay, I am — no, really, I’m fine. I’m not hurt at all, I’m just incredibly pissed off and I need you to come get me,” he said in a deceptively calm voice, given the fury still etched across his face, which faded quickly at whatever he heard in response. “N—no, calm down. I. Am. Fine. But I need you or Mom to ask Mark about the privacy laws in NYC, Queens to be precise, and how they apply to minors. Wel—no, seriously. I’m okay,” he said again, shifting a little and wincing as he bumped against the desk, eyes going darker as he continued. “But one of my teachers gets off on the power trip of forcing her students to answer a phone on speaker in front of the whole class and — nononono! No, it wasn’t me, and it’s not me now. But my classmate . . . she . . . we need to get her to the hospital. Yes, we. There’s . . . there’s no one else right now.”
After that sobering statement, Peter fell silent, saying nothing as whoever he was talking to ranted so loudly that the class could vaguely hear his voice, though they couldn’t make out the words. When the caller finally ran out of steam — or, more likely, stopped to take a breath — he jumped back in and confused his classmates even more.
“No, I know. You’re right. But I either want to press charges, because I’m sick of this bullshit, or make sure she knows what her options are, because this is . . . this is fucking ridiculous. And it’s wrong. Even if someone leaves their phone turned up on purpose, that’s no fucking reason to humiliate them just because you can. We all get enough crap from the students, we don’t need it from the teachers, too.” This silence was ominous and more than one person found themselves holding their breath as they waited for . . . something.
“Yeah,” Peter suddenly said, startling everyone. “Yes, exactly. That’s exactly what she did. And then she fucking smirked when she got her way. I . . . yes, it was that teacher. No, don’t hurt her!” he said quickly, looking panicked. All the blood drained from Nerone’s face. Outwardly oblivious, though several people found themselves wondering how real that impression was, he continued. “That’s why I asked if Mark c—oh, hey, Mom. Yeah. Yeah. I’m fine, I swear. I — oh. No, I’m going with them, but Ned’s here; he can tell you everything. Are you with Dad or — okay. Yeah. You have Ned’s number? Cool. He’ll be waiting for you. It will be today, right?”
From his position next to Kyra, who had stopped crying and was watching Peter with the same wide-eyed astonishment as the rest of the room, Ned nodded and gave Peter a thumb’s up. He got a fist-bump in return before Peter returned to his conversation. The rest of them actually leaned in closer, desperate to know just who their classmate was talking to — and why, exactly, he was calling people ‘Dad’ and ‘Mom’ when it was well-known that his parents had been dead for years.
“How lon—oh, you’re here? In a car?!” Silence. Then — “Oh, man, he’s gonna be pissed. You know how much he hates to miss his Tuesday game. I . . . well, yeah, but still — oh. Yeah, that’s true. A jet would be hard to miss. So you’re actually here? Good. We’ll meet you out front.” Pause. “Because I don’t want to deal with that headache right now!” he exclaimed, looking exasperated. “And if you’re being honest, neither do you. Okay. Gimme . . . maybe five minutes. Yeah. Thanks, Dad.”
At that, the call was unceremoniously ended. Without a word, Peter and Ned tenderly helped Kyra to her feet, and MJ, who had finally recovered from both her anger and her horrified sympathy, handed Peter his and Kyra’s backpacks. “Ned and I will get all the notes and homework for today; let us know if you need more,” she told him, before laying a quick but commiserating hand on Kyra’s arm, shocking the rest of the room with the uncharacteristic gesture of kindness. Peter gave her a wan smile before turning to Ned and arching both eyebrows. A firm nod was Ned’s only response, but it satisfied Peter and, still without a word or even a look at anyone else — especially the stunned teacher — he escorted Kyra out of the room. Several people tried to follow, desperate to see just who Peter was meeting, only to be stopped by Ned and MJ, who took up firm stances in front of the door and refused to move. When one of Flash’s goons tried to shove her out of the way, he found himself bouncing off the wall, courtesy of Abe, and suddenly, every member of the Decathlon team who was in the class was also blocking the door.
“It’s none of your business,” Ned snapped, silencing the whining protest coming from the popular redheaded cheerleader who liked to cheat off him in Biology, but still hadn’t figured out that he wrote down the wrong answers first and corrected them after she was done. Subtle, the girl was not. “All you need to know is that he’s got someone who can help Kyra. And if anyone breathes a word of this before she does, Peter will make sure that you get sued so bad, your grandkids will still be paying for it. It’s Kyra’s business, not ours, and we are going to keep it that way. Are we clear?”
The Junior AP English Lit class was clear.
The rest of the class period passed in an odd, awkward silence. Nerone didn’t say a word to anyone, nor did she summon Morita, but no one else spoke, either, other than Ned and MJ’s whispered conversation, held at the door they were still guarding. When the bell rang, nobody moved for a solid minute before MJ sniffed, grabbed her stuff, and sauntered out the door. Ned was at her shoulder in just a few steps and once they were gone, the rest of the class slowly followed suit. The remainder of the day was strange; no one was willing to risk talking about it, because they all had either Ned or MJ in the rest of their classes and neither of them was subtle about making sure that Kyra Meyers was off-limits, and so was Peter Parker.
Astonishingly, none of those thirty-one students could think of a single other topic of conversation for the rest of the day. The halls were so quiet until lunch that after the school day ended, the teachers actually convened a meeting out of genuine fear that a revolt was being planned. When they heard about the events of second-period English Lit, all of them were shocked and appalled . . . but very few of them felt any remorse or guilt at having the same policy.
Speculation ran rampant, of course, and it was only fed when Ned Leeds was seen later that day first in the hall, then the library, talking on his phone. He missed the entirety of Chem 2, to Monica Warren’s irritation, but, shocking the room silent, she let him be and never said a word about it, despite her obvious unhappiness with the situation. The real astonishment came when someone let slip that the librarian, who was notorious for throwing out students for the crime of whispering to each other, made one objection, had the phone shoved in her face, and after maybe thirty seconds, turned white and went back to her desk, leaving Ned to his phone call — and those whispers couldn’t be silenced.
Who did Peter Parker and Ned Leeds know that could make the arrogant Monica Warren and the tyrant Jessica Stein back down?
It would be another two months before even one of those questions was answered, but by the end of the following week, Midtown had two new policies regarding cell phones and calls: provide the staff with the relevant information regarding medical and/or family situations as soon as possible, earning the right to have your ringer turned up; and, if your phone rang in class, you had the option to either decline the call and silence it, verified by the teacher, or you answered it in the hall, with the door closed and the teacher listening to the student’s half to ensure they weren’t just making plans with friends.
These two rules were welcomed with great relief by the vast majority of the students, something that both irritated and shamed the staff to no end and was therefore ignored; no apologies were ever issued for their implementation and usage of such malicious bullying tactics, but all detentions that had been issued as a result of cell phone calls were quietly overturned and removed. The lack of true remorse annoyed everyone, but most of them knew better than to expect anything else. After all, if an adult apologizes to a kid, especially a teacher or school official to a student, it would cause anarchy and destroy all of civilization.
The fact that a genuine apology would actually create more respect never occurred to any of the adults in question, and that was the main reason Kyra Meyers made creating a cleaner, safer, respectful school culture her senior project, and it continued into her college years.
And Peter?
That he had helped right such an egregious wrong, especially one that had the potential to affect him and his friends so profoundly, was something he took great personal pride in, though he refused to talk about it publicly. In his eyes, he had done nothing more than provide background support, and while he and Kyra became quite close after that incident, she honored his wishes and only spoke in vague generalities when asked about Peter and his role in her crusade to create a more respectful school atmosphere — much to the frustration of the entire school. But neither threats of punishment nor promises of reward could entice Kyra to break the promise she’d made to keep the identity of the man who’d helped her that awful day.
Paula Nerone took a leave of absence at the end of the week and didn’t return until the next semester, but left for good at midterms; she was simply no longer effective as a teacher and few people mourned her absence. Interestingly enough, several of the teachers who had gotten so much enjoyment out of the Phone Call Power Trip also left Midtown at the end of the year, though the attitude of the ones who remained got worse. But their ability to create and enjoy that kind of abuse of power had been substantially curbed, and overall, the students were noticeably happier, which created a better overall atmosphere, and that was really what Peter wanted.
Because the truth was, he understood that sometimes life just sucked and injustice happened. It wasn’t fair or right, but neither was it malicious, which made it easier to bear. When it was deliberate and spiteful, he was proud to say that he would do his considerable best to fight it, and not as Spiderman.
Peter Parker had finally found his voice.
And it would make more of a difference than he would ever know.
~~~
fin
