𝐏𝐀𝐖𝐍 𝐓𝐎 𝐀𝟔 | 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐏

—♟—

"𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐈𝐃 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓?" Kara gasped, pressing her phone closer to her ear as she sat down on the edge of her bed, her other hand hovering close to her mouth.

"Yeah, it was crazy!" exclaimed Liz on the other end. "She just took her phone out during class and called her boyfriend to break up with him!"

"No remorse, or tears, or something?" she asked in disbelief, her eyebrows knit tightly together as she shook her head.

"Nothing! And you wanna know the craziest part?"

"What?"

"Her boyfriend—ex-boyfriend, now—is in our class!"

Kara's jaw dropped even further, her eyes widening as she incredulously questioned, "Seriously?"

"Seriously."

"That's insane. How did he react?"

"He asked to go to the bathroom, but we could hear him crying as soon as he left." Liz gave a small sigh before continuing, "I felt so bad for him."

"Yeah," Kara said with a frown, "that's horrible!"

"You know, I'm not that surprised she did that. This is the same girl who told the teacher that she would run him over with her car because he gave her a C on her test."

Kara narrowed her eyes as she slowly asked, ". . . Did she?"

"No, of course not," Liz giggled.

"Oh, that's good I guess," Kara said as she gave a small shrug. Her eyes flitted over to the clock on her wall, and upon realizing it was nearly half past two, she shot up off the bed and quickly told the other girl, "Oh shoot, I have to go, I got a date in a few minutes."

"Ooh, tell Peter I say hello," Liz giggled once more. "We still on for the mall tomorrow?"

"Will do! And yeah, see you tomorrow!"

"Bye!"

Kara ended the call and turned her phone off before shoving it into the pocket of her jeans. She grabbed the hairbrush off of her vanity, quickly combing through her hair to get rid of any of the tangles and knots made whenever she had run her hand through her hair from the stress of Liz's stories.

When she was finished, she got one last good look at herself in the mirror. She and Peter were planning to bake today, meaning that no nice clothes were required nor recommended, so she had decided on a simple, black t-shirt tucked into a pair of jeans.

Her mother was out shopping for a gift for a friend's housewarming party, so Kara had to rely on the sole way of transportation she had: teleportation.

Crossing her fingers and praying that no one would see her, she teleported to the discreet location she usually did whenever she went to visit Peter: just behind the apartment building, next to the dumpsters.

Once she had arrived, she crinkled her nose at the smell of the rotting garbage and peered around, making sure that there had been no witnesses.

So far, she had been lucky, and no one had ever seen her, but she had no clue what she would do if it were to ever happen. It wasn't like she would murder them or something . . . probably. Too bad she didn't have any Men In Black-type of memory-altering devices. 

With a small sigh of relief upon confirmation that no one had seen her, Kara pinched her nose and fanned the smell away as she quickly walked around the building and to the front. She headed up the building and to his floor, giving quick hellos to the strangers that she passed on the way.

She knocked on the door as soon as she stepped in front of it. She didn't have to wait too long, as the door swung open only a moment later, revealing a grinning boy behind it.

"Hey, Kara!"

"Hi!" Kara smiled as she stepped in, taking off her shoes as Peter closed and locked the door behind her. "Is May home?"

"No, she went out with her friends." Peter shrugged, a small grin on his face. "Sorry to disappoint."

"Aw man, maybe I should just go home then," Kara giggled, folding her arms before leaning over and kissing his cheek. "So, ready to blow your home up?"

His eyes narrowed as he slowly shook his head. ". . . No? I thought you were good at baking."

"Where'd you hear that?"

"I don't know, you're good at everything, so I just assumed." He shrugged, beckoning her to follow him as he made his way toward the kitchen. "Besides, I remember you telling me that you and Amelia baked a cake, and it tasted good."

"Did I? I think I left out a few parts . . ." Kara frowned as she leaned against the counter. "Mainly the fact that we somehow set the whole kitchen on fire. Probably because we threw the recipe away."

Peter's eyes widened as he looked toward her and exclaimed, "You what?"

"Mhm. Uncle Tony was . . . angry, to put it lightly," Kara giggled. "But Uncle Rhodey and Maximoff thought it was funny, so I take it as a win."

His nose wrinkled as he questioned, "Then how did it taste good?"

"Well," she answered with a shrug, "the icing tasted good."

"Well," he laughed, "hopefully, we don't blow my kitchen up."

Kara nodded, keeping a solemn look on her face as she promised, "I'll try my best."

"First we need to decide what we're gonna bake," Peter instructed as he placed his hands on the counter and looked towards her with raised eyebrows. "What do you want?"

She waved a dismissive hand through the air. "Whatever you want."

His eyebrows knit together tightly as he leaned towards her. "But I want what you want."

"Okay." She nodded, pausing as she pretended to think it over. She looked towards Peter, who was watching her expectantly, and firmly said, "I want what you want."

"But—" Peter let out a sigh. "Okay, what about . . ." His eyes suddenly lit up as he suggested, "Cookies?"

Kara grinned. "You know I can never say no to cookies."

"What kind?"

"Whatever kind you—"

"Kara."

"Chocolate chip," she decided with a giggle.

"We're all set then," he said as he gave her a thumbs-up. "Let me just find a recipe, and we can start."

"We're already off to a better start than my . . . disaster with Amelia," Kara remarked as he pulled his phone out and began to type into it.

"Yeah, well, I'd prefer for my kitchen to not catch on fire," he replied with a small grin as he pressed on a website. "Aunt May would murder me."

"I'd rather you stay alive," she agreed with a short nod.

Peter walked over to his cabinet and grabbed a couple of mixing bowls and measuring cups before bringing them back to the counter and placing them in front of them. He then walked towards the fridge and grabbed the ingredients they needed, setting them out over the counter.

"Okay, it says we need three-quarters of a cup of butter," Peter read out from the website.

"Butter . . ." Kara gazed around the many ingredients before spotting it and grabbing it. She took a knife and carefully sliced it at the three-quarter mark before peeling the wrapping off and dumping it into the bowl. "Done."

"Then the same amount of brown sugar, and a quarter cup of normal sugar," Peter murmured as he poured the brown sugar, Kara taking the white. "Then we mix it. You wanna do it?"

Kara eyed the hand mixer wearily as she folded her arms. "All I'm gonna say is that I broke Tony's."

Peter quickly nodded before grabbing the mixer and telling her, "I'll do it."

After about ten minutes of ingredient measuring and dumping, the only ingredient left to add to the mix was the best one—chocolate chips.

"Okay," Peter exhaled as he finished mixing the dough before he reached over towards the bag of chocolate chips that sat on the counter, though he knocked the bowl over with his elbow in the process.

Quicker than Kara could even register, Peter caught the bowl in one hand, his other hand grabbing onto the mixer that had fallen out of the bowl mid-air. He gave a small sigh of relief as he placed the bowl and mixer back onto the counter and shot Kara a goofy grin.

Kara stared at him in disbelief and she pointed a finger toward him as she narrowed her eyes, slowly asking, "How did you catch that? There was only a seven-point-eighty-one percent chance that you could."

Peter's eyes widened before his eyebrows furrowed, and he pointed toward her in a similar fashion. "How do you know . . . the percent chance?"

"Uh . . ." Kara shrugged, silently cursing herself. "Just a guesstimate."

Peter nodded slowly, his eyes squinted as he let out a suspicious "Right . . . ."

"Anyway, um, I'll get this." Kara grabbed the chocolate chips—without knocking anything over—and opened the bag, pouring the proper amount in before giving Peter the okay to continue mixing.

Peter seemed to have let go of his suspicion as he switched the mixer on and let the chocolate mix in with the rest of the dough while Kara grabbed a baking pan and heated the oven to three hundred and fifty degrees.

After the dough was well-mixed, Peter took an ice cream scooper from the drawer and began to scoop little balls of dough onto the parchment paper that Kara had laid over the pan.

Once there were about twenty balls of cookie dough placed on the pan, Peter carefully put it inside the oven (neither of them trusted Kara to do so) and set the timer to twelve minutes.

He picked up the bowl, which still had little bits of dough spread around the inside, and asked, "Want some?"

Kara wrinkled her nose as she shook her head. "I'd rather not get salmonella."

"Oh, come on," Peter laughed as he grabbed a spoon and scooped some out, taking a few steps so that he was next to her as he tauntingly raised the spoon to her mouth. "What are the chances?"

"Zero point eighteen percent," she instantly answered with a shrug. "But I'm not taking any chances."

He paused, his eyebrows furrowed. "How'd you know that?"

Kara shut her eyes and internally at herself. Despite the fact that she had a trillion and two IQ, it seemed as though she had half a brain cell. "Another guess?"

Peter didn't seem to be any more convinced. "But I—"

Kara, hoping to distract him, leaned forward and pressed her lips against his, quickly wrapping her arms around his neck.

He was startled at first but was swift to kiss her back, and she heard the clatter of the spoon dropping to the counter behind her before he put his hands on her waist.

She pulled away, praying that he had forgotten about the percent problem.

He hadn't.

"How did you—"

Kara kissed him again.

"But—"

Again.

"Kara, how did—"

Once more.

"Okay, okay, fine, don't tell me," he laughed, eliciting a grin from her. "I give up."

"What, do you not want me to kiss you anymore?" she questioned with feigned offence, pressing her hand over her heart.

Peter's cheeks immediately flushed as he shook his head. "No, it's not—I want—I'm fine—you can kiss me forever if—I mean, uh—"

Kara laughed before leaning forward and placing a quick kiss on his lips. "Got it. Anyway, let's clean up."

The twelve minutes passed quickly as they returned the ingredients to their usual spots, washed the bowls and measuring cups, and wiped down the counter.

A loud beeping came from the oven as the timer hit zero, and Kara gave a happy sigh. "So nice to hear an alarm that isn't the fire alarm."

"If you ever die in a fire, I guess I'll know what caused it," Peter chuckled as he slid an oven mitt on and pulled the pan out of the oven.

"All I'm saying is that it's probably gonna be Amelia's fault." Kara raised her hands in defence before leaning over to see the pan that Peter had placed on the stove. She gave a gasp of delight as she saw the perfectly golden, round cookies that gave off a scent comparable to heaven.

"What? Have you never made cookies this perfect?" Peter joked as he put the oven mitt away.

She scoffed in amusement. "Bold of you to assume that my mom lets me bake cookies."

He raised his eyebrows. "You were banned from the kitchen after—"

"After the cake incident, yeah." She nodded quickly, a small grin on her face. "And that happened when I was, like, eight. But Amelia was twelve, so she should've been responsible enough to not set the kitchen on fire."

"I'd say eight is a pretty good age to know how to not set a kitchen on fire," Peter pointed out with a laugh.

"Shut up." She grinned, elbowing his side.

As soon as the cookies were cooled enough, the two of them took one for themselves, their fingertips then warmed by the slight heat of the dessert.

Kara took a bite, letting out a happy sigh as she chewed the soft cookie. "Cookies are the best."

"I thought I was the best?" Peter feigned offence as he put a hand over his chest before taking a bite of his cookie.

Kara squinted her eyes as she took another bite, pondering for a moment before swallowing and conceding, "You're slightly better than cookies."

"Thanks," he laughed, shifting over and pressing a kiss to her cheek. "I think you're way better than cookies."

She shook her head. "Don't disrespect cookies like that."

—♟—

"What is the troposphere?" Ned asked, holding the notebook close to his face to reassure that Kara wasn't able to peek at the answers.

Kara played with her hamburger-shaped eraser that she had stolen from Maximoff a few months back as she answered, "It contains about seventy-five percent of the Earth's atmosphere, it is eight kilometres over the poles and sixteen kilometres over the equator. It is also called the region of mixing."

Ned nodded before continuing to the next question, "What is terrestrial radiation?"

"The radiation that bounces back into space from Earth by infrared longwave radiation." She paused for a moment before adding, "These are responsible for the greenhouse effect."

He nodded once more. "What is the thermosphere?"

"In this layer, temperature increases rapidly due to interaction of the ionosphere with the electromagnetic radiation from the outer space of the Sun. It extends from mesopause to six hundred and forty kilometres."

Ned put his notebook down on the lab bench, his eyebrows furrowed as he looked toward her. "How do you memorize these word-for-word? Like, every single answer didn't miss a thing!"

"Oh, uh . . ." Kara pressed her lips together, squinting her eyes as she looked over at him and gave a small shrug. "I don't . . . know?"

"Are you cheating?" he suddenly accused with a small gasp, jabbing a finger in her direction.

Peter, who had been invested in his own notes on the other side of Kara, looked up, his eyebrows mildly raised as he pointed out, "How would she be cheating? She's right in front of you."

"You were looking at my notes somehow," Ned elaborated, his eyes narrowed as he continued pointing at her. "Or your notes. Or Peter's notes. Or maybe there's a mirror behind me."

"I'm not cheating, Ned," Kara reassured him with a small laugh, shaking her head as he looked quickly behind him. "I'm just . . . good at memorizing, I guess."

"You're too good," Ned replied, still seeming to be suspicious, which put Kara's nerves on edge. "Almost like you're a . . . super-genius or something."

"What?" Kara gave a nervous chuckle as she quickly shook her head and denied, "That's crazy. Trust me, I know a couple super-geniuses—Uncle Bruce, Uncle Tony, my mom—I am not one of them."

"All right . . ." Ned shrugged before picking his notebook back up. "What's a—"

Before Ned could finish asking the question, the teacher—Mrs. Maan—walked in and raised a hand, causing the chatter to die down.

"I hope everyone's ready for the test," Mrs. Maan spoke to the class with a small smile, grabbing a thick stack of papers from her desk and clutching it tightly with both hands. "We'll begin now, and" —she glanced over to the clock— "you have seventy-five minutes to complete it."

"You think you're ready?" Peter whispered to Kara as the teacher began to hand out the tests.

"I'd say so," she murmured back with a small shrug as she put her notebook away. "You?"

"I hope so." He grinned before quietly thanking the teacher as she handed the paper to him.

Kara pressed her lips together in concentration as she began to write her test, though she barely had to give any second thought as she wrote her answers down; everything came naturally in her memory.

Thirty minutes of non-stop writing, and she was finished. She glanced over to Peter, who was focused on his own test before looking over to Ned, then becoming startled to see that he was staring right back at her with narrowed eyes.

"What?" she mouthed to him, shifting her gaze to her teacher to make sure she wasn't looking before looking back toward Ned.

"You're finished?" he mouthed back with his eyes still narrowed, gesturing towards her test with the end of his pencil. "How?"

Kara shrugged before looking back towards her test, flipping back to the first page and beginning to review her answers—though she knew everything was right.

Her mind didn't let her concentrate on her written responses, however. It now buzzed with worry about Ned—and eventually, Peter—finding out about her powers.

What was she supposed to do? Deny it, though there was hard proof? There seemed to be no other option.

She worried over the next forty minutes, though she came to no conclusion. She prayed that Ned wouldn't bring it up as she handed her test in, but as usual, God didn't care about her ask.

"So, uh, how'd you finish the entire test—twenty questions!—in half an hour?" Ned questioned. The class began to chat among themselves as they waited for the class to end.

"You did?" Peter asked with furrowed eyebrows.

"No," Kara scoffed lightly, shaking her head. "You must've been seeing things, Nedster, because I . . . uh, took like, an hour to finish—"

Ned folded his arms and told her, "I saw your test."

"Why were you even looking at my test?" Kara questioned in an accusatory fashion as she pointed a finger at him. "Were you cheating?"

"Yeah," he deadpanned. "I didn't know the answer to question seven, so I was gonna look at yours."

"Ned!" she exclaimed, playfully slapping his arm. "And you accused me of cheating before!"

"Pretty shady, Ned." Peter grinned.

"You still didn't answer my question, Kara," Ned said, causing her to give a silent groan. "How did you do it?"

"Magic?"

"You're not Harry Potter," Peter pointed out with a small chuckle, though his eyebrows were just as tightly knit as Ned's. "But . . . how did you—"

"Hey, Josh!" Kara turned around to face the friend she went to in desperate times, who, luckily for her, also sat behind her in geography as he did in chemistry. "How was the test?"

Josh, who had been peering at his notes to check his answers, looked up at her in surprise before a small grin came onto his face. "I think it was pretty good! There were a couple questions I wasn't sure of, though. How about you?"

Ignoring Peter and Ned's glares as she scooched her chair closer to the desk behind her, she smiled and responded, "It was good! I studied a whole lot for it, so I think I might've been over-prepared."

"Better than being under-prepared." He shrugged as he closed his notebook. "One time, I was so confident in my math abilities that I didn't study for a test, and I got eight percent on it."

She let out a small giggle as she raised her eyebrows. "Really? When?"

"Like, second grade," he answered with a grin. "But still, I learned my lesson when I got my test back. And when my mom beat me with her shoe."

"That's a pretty effective method," Kara laughed.

"By the way," Josh suddenly said, glancing down towards his closed notebook before continuing, "what did you get for question eighteen? The question about—"

"The Humboldt current?" she finished for him as she raised her eyebrows. "I got stuck on that question too, for a bit, but I remembered the answer after a bit: It's a cold ocean current flowing northward from Antarctica along the western coast of South America."

"Damn," Josh groaned, "I put North America instead of South."

"Don't worry," she reassured him with a small chuckle, "I'm sure it won't affect your mark too much."

"I hope not," he chuckled. "Did you—"

Josh was cut off by the sound of the bell that signalled the end of the school day, and he waved a dismissive hand that told her to disregard the question.

She gave him a small wave of goodbye before collecting her books and rejoining Peter and Ned, whose eyebrows were raised at her.

"What?" she asked innocently as they got up from their desks and began to head towards the door.

"Do you like James better than us?" Ned asked with narrowed eyes as they converged with the rest of the students in the hallway.

"Josh," Kara corrected with a sigh while they headed toward Ned's locker. "And no, of course not!"

"John doesn't seem all that cool," Ned said airily. "I mean, yeah, I guess he has all those muscles and stuff, but that's nothing compared to mine!" He grinned as he flexed one arm, where there was certainly no muscle.

"You're right, Ned," she laughed. "You're more buff than Uncle Steve."

Ned grinned. "You bet I am."

They reached Ned's locker, and as Ned began to shove his belongings into his backpack, Kara turned to Peter and raised her eyebrows.

"Why so quiet?"

"Hm?" He looked up at her with slightly widened eyes, and his cheeks pinkened as he shook his head. "Nothing. Just thinking."

"About?"

He blinked for a moment before shrugging. "Turtles?"

Kara's eyebrows furrowed. "You sure about that?"

"Yep." He gave her a reassuring smile as Ned slammed his locker door shut. "Turtles are cute."

"I've always wanted a turtle," Ned remarked as they began walking to Peter's locker. "I'd name it Donatello."

"Yeah?" Kara raised her eyebrows as a grin spread onto her face. "I think I'd name it Yoshi."

Ned gave a loud gasp as he swivelled his head towards her. "No!"

"Yes!" she giggled as they came to a stop in front of Peter's locker. "And it'd be the cutest turtle ever."

Peter shook his head as he packed his bag and grinned. "I'd name mine Wario then."

It was Kara's turn to gasp. "You wouldn't."

"Oh, I would." He nodded seriously as he zipped his bag closed. "I'd even get a second turtle and name it Waluigi."

"Peter, I know you're joking," Kara said with a raised finger, "but if you did that, I would never talk to you again."

"Harsh," he commented as he swung his bag over his shoulder and closed his locker door. "Maybe I should do that then."

"Hey!" she laughed as she playfully smacked his arm. "Rude!"

"I'm kidding." He gave her an adorable grin as they began to walk through the halls once more. "Anyway, do you guys want to come over after school tomorrow? I just unlocked a new character on Super Smash Bros."

"Sick!" Ned gasped. "Who?"

"Wolf," Peter answered.

"Awesome!" Ned exclaimed as they reached Kara's locker. "I'm definitely coming over; I wanna see if I can beat him."

"Cool." Peter nodded with a grin. "Kara?"

Kara sighed as she put her textbooks into her bag and shook her head. She had training with Steve, Wanda, and Rhodey—but of course, she couldn't tell them that.

"I, uh, have to help my mom with something."

"All right." Peter shrugged as she slung her bag over her shoulder and closed the locker. "Another time, then."