"You know, you don't have to do this.." Tony muttered, standing outside of Peter's doorway.
"He is right," Steve agreed. "Maybe you're not ready yet."
Peter slipped on his black converse from the foot of his bed. "But I really want to." He said. Today is supposed to be his first day of school.
As an eleventh grader.
He had been homeschooled all of his life since getting the diagnosis of lung cancer from the age of four. Until he was ten years old, he was mostly bedridden and lonely. His naive childlike self-was too young to understand what was actually going on. All his Dad and Pa said was that his body wasn't doing so well, and he will be home before he knew it.
His childhood was mostly hospital visits, chemotherapy, and radiation, surgeries, and then maybe a month at home if he was lucky enough before the whole cycle repeated itself for years on end.
Until he got really sick when he was ten and went through this surgery that basically saved his life. They thought that he wouldn't make it through the procedure because he was too weak to actually breathe on his own.
But it was either going through the surgery that might've saved his life, or death since he was expected to die in a couple of weeks.
The doctors said that it was a miracle that he even survived.
After he recovered and had some tests done, his family found out that the cancer was still bad, but not as fatal as before. Although the cell division slowed down it was still very abnormal. He was able to leave the hospital and finally reconnect to the outside world, but the happy news was short lived.
He still had to take an anti cancer medication called Taxol. It slowed the growth of cancer in his lungs and helped keep it from spreading to other parts of his body. It was nice having a sense of hope because it was supposed to keep his cancer stable. But deep down, Peter knew that it wasn't really a cure.
He had a nasal cannula wrapping around his head, behind his ears, and down his shirt helping him breathe. The tubes were connected to a small oxygen machine that he carried around with him everywhere. He was kind of a lonely kid growing up, his parents were either at work or, visiting hours at the hospital were over.
So the tiny machine was his first and only friend for a while. It was like a small backpack with wheels that he rolled around.
He wasn't in perfect health, but beggars aren't choosers. All those years ago, his illness was so severe that he wasn't expected to survive past age ten.
But he did since he would be turning seventeen in about nine months.
Peter stood from his bed and slid his backpack on. He walked towards his parents by the door way. He put on a reassuring smile for the both of them.
"I'm going to be okay, I promise," Peter said. "I really really want to try this." At this point in his life, he would've given almost anything to feel normal. He had spent most of his life at home with his parents or with doctors and nurses at the hospital. He knew how desperate he sounded, but he really wanted friends, or at least, a friend.
Star's brown eyes went from Peter to his husband, Steve. The look he gave was pleading but already embraced in the essence of defeat.
"Do you have everything in your bag?" He asked.
Peter nodded.
"Read them all out to me," Steve commanded. His voice had a natural strong ness to it, but his eyes and his body language said otherwise.
"I'm not six-" Peter tried to object.
Tony and Steve crossed their arms, staring Peter down.
"Okay okay.." Peter sighed.
He cleared his throat.
"Emergency care numbers, Star industries phone numbers, your phone numbers, and my medicine."
Peter put on a small smile. 'I've got this.' He said to himself.
Tony pulled his son's body into a large hug. "I'm so proud of you." He whispered, his voice breaking a little bit. "How far you've come, and what you've been through.."
Peter returned the hug. "Thanks, Dad."
He pulled away and wiped a tear from his eye. "I'm going to miss you so much."
"It's okay, everything is going to be fine."
"Peter-" Steve said, his voice much more firm than before, but his eyes were more gentle. "If anything goes wrong, we're pulling you out immediately."
Peter slumped his shoulders down. "Yeah... I know." He mumbled. Peter guessed that things going was something like his lung having a seizure due to the smallest irritant and he ends up not being able to breathe.
That would be unfortunate.
"Now come here." He said his voice on a lighter, happier note.
Large, muscular arms wrapped tightly around Peter. "I love you so much.." Steve's voice whispered in his ears.
"Same...Pa..." he barely managed. "but can't...breathe..."
Roberts pulled away, "Sorry." He shyly apologized.
Once Peter regained his composure. He let out a bright smile that made his parent's souls smile and ache at the boy he was all those years ago, and the man he was becoming.
"I'm ready for my first day of school."
Peter didn't realize how nervous he was until their car pulled up to the front of Midtown Science High school. His heart was racing in his chest as his palms began to sweat. He was having trouble breathing, but it was because he held his breath for too long. His eyes were glued to a number of students walking in and out of the gigantic front doors.
They all seemed like they knew each other. Guys walking in large groups, and girls surrounded by large cliques. And then there was Peter.
The new kid that knew no one.
"Peter?" A voice rang, interrupting him from his thoughts. "Are you having second thoughts?"
Peter whipped his head towards his parents, who were staring back at him with concern.
"N-No." Peter stuttered.
"Really? Cause we've been here for seven minutes." Steve said. "It's okay if you want to go home, and try again tomorrow.."
Peter slowly turned his head to face the school. 'Why did I even want to do this?' He thought.
"I'm-I'm fine.." Peter said nervously. "I can do this, I'm going to do this."
His brown eyes locked onto the features of the men sitting before him. "I love you guys, thank you.. for everything."
"Remember," Steve said. "If you need anything, call us, alright?"
Peter gave a weak nod. "I will, I promise."
Peter didn't know what he was expecting. He kept his head down while he was walking through the courtyard, and no one noticed him very well. But as soon as he stepped into the school...
Stares, upon stares, upon stares.
The piercing eyes followed his every footstep. Filled with a mixture of curiosity, pity, and humor. It was as if he was a specimen on display for everyone to gawk at.
He wanted to lift his head and make eye contact, but he decided against it. Their piercing eyes would've made him crawl back inside of his defensive shell. In all honesty, he probably would've run back into the bathroom and begged his parents to pick him up.
'No!'
'I am a lot of things... but I'm not a quitter.'
'I'm just going to make it through one day.'
It wasn't the stares that got to him the most though, he had gotten used to them whenever he went outside.
It was the whispering.
Peter heart sunk in his chest as he knew that this was a bad idea. What possessed him to think that someone like him, could fit into and actually socialize with people like this? If they all knew that he had cancer, they would for sure treat him differently. Maybe with more pity.
All Peter wanted was to feel like he was someone's equal.
His converse padded along the tile floor of the hallway. His head elevated up, but his eyes were downcast. In all honesty, he was more focused on stepping inside of the tiles and not on the cracks. It was the only thing keeping him slightly sane at the moment.
Once he turned the corner to reach his locker, he thought that the morning torture would be over.
But he was wrong.
There were two of jocks swarmed around his locker section. One had blond hair and another had brownish hair with hazel eyes. Peter knew thoseguys from every cliche high school movie. They were the mean jocks that were probably on the football team dating the head cheerleaders.
At first, they didn't notice him until he spoke to them.
"Excuse me.." Peter mustered up the confidence to say.
The blond turned towards him and snickered. "Were you talking to us?"
The obviously more athletic, meatier guys stared down at him, making him feel smaller than he already was. "I... umm... just need to get to my locker."
The blond squinted his eyes staring at Peter up and down. "I can't believe the rumors were true..." one of them murmured. "Can you believe it, Wade? Timothy Star's son is actually attending our school."
"let me guess, you got kicked out of one of those fancy boarding schools?"
He began to laugh as he nudged the shoulder of the other male next to him. "Your parents are faggots so why wouldn't you be?"
"And let me guess." Peter murmured. "You must play football..."
The blond was taken aback with Peter's quote. "Of course I do." He said. "What the hell does it matter to you?"
Peter let out a small laugh. His hypothesis was proven correct.
"What the fuck is so funny?" Flash asked. His sudden tone made the humor that Peter had, vanish.
Peter then put his hand to his chest and turned his laughs into fake coughs. "Nothing." He said. "Absolutely nothing... just my umm... asthma."
The other male, Wade, had a frown spread on his face as he was shaking his head slightly. He held his hand on his friend's shoulder attempting to calm him down. "Flash..." He sighed. "Let's not throw a tantrum today..."
"Your parents are disgusting." Flash spat. "And so are you."
"You don't even know... you don't know them..." Peter mustered out. A lot of people judged his parents and he hated it so much. They weren't any different than anyone else... even to this day, he still didn't see what the big problem was. He has two dads, he had two loving parents... that was enough. That would always be enough.
Flash leaned in closer, an obviously disgusted grimace plastered on his face. "I'm surprised that the school even allowed someone like you to be here. Can you even control yourself around the other boys?"
"I wouldn't be attracted to someone like you," Peter said, narrowing his eyes.
Flash walked closer to Peter. Their chests breathing on one another's. The bigger males jacket pressed onto Peters shirt, causing him to smell the leather that it reeked off. With one sudden motion, large hands pushed Peter backward and onto the ground.
"Just because you have rich homosexuals for parents, that doesn't make you better than me or anyone else."
He was lucky that he didn't land on his oxygen tank and break it cause that would've been devastating. It probably would've stopped the supplemental oxygen to his body and that would cause his lung to have a seizure.
Peter stared upwards at them in fear, he didn't know what to do, his body was frozen on the ground. Flash seemed like a total douche, and the one named 'Wade' wasn't even doing anything, not really. Peter didn't know how to deal with bullies, his parents usually felt with the kids teasing him when he grew up.
"FLASH." Wade snapped. He pulled his blond friend away from the scared figure on the floor. "Control your testosterone.." He muttered.
"Stay out of our way." Flash grumbled under his breath. "I don't want HIV."
Wade and Flash walked in the opposite direction of the brunette. Flash was still worked up. Clenching his fist and grumbling profanities under his breath. But for a split second, the other male had a bit of empathy in his eye.
