quaranteens

“Peter Parker,” Cindy says. Peter’s head snaps up so fast that it almost looks inhuman. “Did Tony Stark just waltz in and pick up his child in the background of your Zoom call?” Peter freezes. Wide-eyed, with ‘guilty’ written on his forehead in 72, bold, Times New Roman font. It takes a solid thirty seconds before he can put himself together enough to click the unmute button. “I—no?” Peter says. His voice is startlingly high pitched and his expression is nothing short of horrified.Damn, if that isn’t anything but a confession. Or: a day in the life of the quarantined high school spider-kid, as seen through the eyes of his first-period chemistry class.