Wrong Number

Dumb Nerds:

Peter: Don't listen to Flash, Harper

Ned: yeah, don't let him get into your head

Ned: Also, was that Hawkeye in the car you got into!?

Peter: Ned!

Ned: Sorry, nevermind that

MJ: Flash is just a stupid idiot who thinks he has friends when everyone hates him.

MJ: He knows you're better than him so he tries to tear you down.

Me: Thank you 😖

I don't deserve you 3 😫😩🥺

"Who are you texting?" Clint asks casually, "You got a boyfriend?"

"Ha, you're funny," I raise my head to look at him, "I'm texting my friends."

"So no boyfriend?" He asks, turning on a intersection.

"Nope. I'm not into all that." I say. 

"Why's that? Someone broke your heart?" He nudges my arm, keeping the mood light hearted. "Or have you just not been in a relationship?"

"Do relationships even count as real at my age?" I question.

"How old are you? 10?" His gaze flicks to me.

I blink, "Ow. That hurt," I hold a hand to my chest. "I'm 15, thank you very much."

"Oh, sure, sure," he nods, "My apologies,"

When we pull up to the tower, I'm immediately aware of the cars and vans that are parked outside. I get out of the car, and the next thing I know I'm surrounded by people holding camera's and microphones. Clint shoves his way to my side, "In the tower, come on." His hand goes to my back.

"What's you're name?"

"Are you a new Avenger?"

"Are you Stark's long lost kid?"

"Why are you living at Stark Tower?"

Lights flash at me, and I duck my head, holding a hand to to side of my face to avoid the cameras. Clint guides us forward, as I'm thrown dozens of questions. I feel trapped, my breathing picking up.

"Enough! Get back, all of you filthy, disgusting rats!" A menacing voice demands.

 A hand gently touches my arm, "Come along, Harper." Says the voice quietly.

I look up to see Loki. I heisitate, but I nod, desperate to get away from the attention of the paparazzi.

The god guides me inside, walking briskly. No one looks at us. Odd.

 As we pass, I see a duplicate of Loki talking to the paparazzi. I look back once Loki and I are inside, to see a illusion of me still standing by Clint. Loki let's go of my arm. I watch as Clint and the fake me walk up and come in the building. The fake Loki follows. After the doors shut, fake me and fake Loki disappear with a shimmer of green.

Clint swears in surprise, then he turns to see the real us. "What the hell was that?"

"Illusion projection and duplication casting," Loki answers.

"Ain't that the same thing?" I look up at the god, my heartbeat steady now that I'm out of the paparazzi's veiw.

"No, they are two completely different powers, actually. Illusion projection involves depicting a detailed image from outside oneself which is perceptible in the external world, whereas duplication casting and tells recreateing an exact facsimile of one's own body in its present circumstance which acts as a true holographic mirror of its molecular structure." He explains.

Clint and I just look at him blankly, "... I don't think you even breathed during that." I say.

"I didn't even get what he said," Clint tells me.

"Me neither." I say.

Loki sighs in irritation, and I turn to the window. "Why are they here?" I ask.

"You're the new drama." Says Clint.

"Why can't he be drama!?" I gesture to Loki.

"Trust me, I've been drama before," Loki says.

"Yeah, no sh-" I get cut off.

"Language," Loki furrows his eyebrows slightly.

I scoff a laugh,but it lacks real humor, "You sound like Cap."

"Do not compare me to a man in spangled spandex suit who wields a giant frisbee for a weapon." Loki gives me a serious look.

"It's not spandex. Do you even know what spandex is?" I raise my eyebrows questioningly.

"Mortal fabric," Loki answers.

"Oh my God, can you two please shut up?" Clint takes out his phone, dailing a number.

Loki and I give back other a look before looking away, mouths shut.

Word count:  664