Little Spy | Peter Parker ✓

[6]

MY FEET THUDDED AGAINST THE LEG OF THE STIFF CHAIR, echoing throughout the quiet room, but it was the steady rhythm that was keeping me sane. Without the quiet thumps, I was sure I would combust into flames from irritation and a million other emotions piling up on top of one another - perhaps not smart when talking to supposedly, my new principal, but it was not something I could simply ignore. Simply put, this guy was draining my new life out of me, more than Inga could ever even dream of.

I had practised with Inga for this moment for days, slaving over keywords and actions and proper posture and science terms that would help me blend in and how to ask for food at the cafeteria and how to do everything that normal seventeen-year-olds would know, but things that I had never experienced. It was not hard, really, but it was a whole new world that I never thought I would have to learn how to be a part of, even if it was really just a mission. There were things that made no sense to me - why did teens care so much about football, and just what did it mean when someone said tardy, how were people so lax with such disobedience? America was strange, but at least I could know all that was possible about it in order to blend in and pretend that the 'normal' me was not such a foreign concept.

I was prepared for this, more prepared than I had ever been in my lifetime. I knew practically everything there was to know about Peter, right down to the colour preferences of his socks - grey, with the occasional white stripe - and the way he parted his hair - to the right, normally - as well as anything involving friends, family, and the students at Midtown High. I could list everyone in a heartbeat, as well as their social security numbers, addresses, and if they still slept with a night light - which was exactly 27% of them, though ten percent of that was due to younger siblings. Maybe not normal for an 'exchange student', but I needed every bit of the information in order to accomplish what I needed in the least amount of time.

However, none of that truly mattered at that moment. Right then, I needed to finish up this interview, which meant smiling and nodding and taking a serious science student persona in order to get where I needed to go. After that, things could begin, but this was the gateway - and if I messed this up, Inga would slice me into millions of tiny pieces the size of specks of dust. For that, I smiled as wide as my lips would spread and nodded along as though whatever he had been saying had been picked up by me.

"...I must say, your marks are incredible, especially basing around the math and science branches," the principal continued, forcing my attention again. "I'm quite impressed."

Inga flashed him an ice-cold smile, the type disguised by a warm mask so as not to alert him of ulterior motives, but one encouraging me to stop and sit nicely. Under the desk, her black-tipped nails dug valleys into my skin. "Emily's always been such a strong student; she has always pushed herself to the max for everything, and I admired that about her."

"I can see that, even just from this entrance test." He sat back, not bothering to hide his unnerving stare, his hawk eyes trained upon me. He was a larger man, with a bulbous nose placed directly in the middle of his square face, with a smell of garlic, piss and desperation. I was not quite sure if I was hiding my sneer of disgust very well anymore. "If I'm being honest, I'm not even sure why you needed to make an appointment to discuss her enrollment or any sort of program to take her in slowly, she seems like she is able to take on much more."

The woman's loud laugh echoed throughout and made my ears ring, clearly faked to a degree of obscurity. "Though Emily is quite a strong student, she has always been a little bit on the quiet side, and I just wish my daughter to have the best chances. I wanted an appointment to ensure her the best possible option among such talented students."

Bullshit - the entire thing was bullshit. She could care less about every little detail she spat his way and did not actually believe me necessary to any support system. Inga herself could care less for the plan and originally just wanted a slyer way to force my entry into the school. However, it was not in the cards and she instead had to take up the mantle of a rich, doting widow, a concept extremely appealing, presumably. If she could bat her eyelashes enough and coo in such a sickeningly sweet way for long enough, well it meant she could play with the cards of fate and make some changes, in whatever little ways, to ensure a better shot at that boy.