Peter took a reluctant step back, staring stubbornly at his battered sneakers for a moment so that Mr Stark wouldn't see the damp brightness in his eyes. With a determined sniff which (sort of) removed the worst of the lump from his throat, he rubbed his sleeve across his nose. Peter had missed Tony Stark. Horrendously, painfully so. The kind of grief that waned and ebbed but was always there, lodged just under his ribs.
"I was uh," he looked up at Tony again, frowning. "Okay, well I was walking to Spanish with Ned, right? And we'd gone down the back stairwell because there's less people but this kid Jack - he was in band - he told-" Peter stopped suddenly. There was a reason people were interested in following him around school, and it all stemmed from the fact that he, Peter, was a complete idiot who had given EDITH away and started a whole chain of events that had ended with his face on a screen in Times Square.
"It was September 2024," He said instead. "It's been a while since - but you know about that?"