P.S... I Love You

Back to School

The transition from Grade 9 to Grade 10 hadn't really fazed Harry Osborn. Why would it? All that happened was he got a new teacher and a maximum of 2 new students to throw around. Not that anyone cared that he did that. His Father payed more to this school than America did in taxes. The only difference? Harry couldn't care less. In fact, as he walked into his new class room, he could have sworn he heard his new professor cursing; could have sworn the he saw students shuddering as he walked by. He liked this. He loved being feared.

~~~

The new school year had been hard for Peter Parker. He nearly hadn't been able to attend; Aunt May had to get another mortgage on the house and a loan. Peter always felt bad. He'd even argued with Aunt May; he didn't need an education, not whilst there were bills that had to be paid. Yet Aunt May had been insisted and this morning had waved Peter off to school. He hated this school. He despised how everyone stared at his ripped jeans, his faded school bag, his shirts with the occasional stains. He sulked as he dropped into his new seat. The seat he chose in every classroom, left back window seat. As his French teacher entered (what a lesson to start the new year with; French), Peter's gaze fell out the window.

~~~

Harry sat scribbling down notes as his English teacher wrote on the board. This was tedious. They were just learning the basics; the basics Harry's parents had taught him when he was growing up. He could ace this class if he really put effort in. He could get a rough 98% on his test at the end of the year; a merit mark and the highest grade of the class; without much effort. Yet, what was the point? He was never going to use English. Why would he? He would never have to work for the rest of his life. Oscorp had ensured that for him. The bell rang and Harry immediately began to pack his things.

"Homework!"

Everyone groaned and took out their homework diaries, turning to a new, crisp page.

"Test your English knowledge. I want you to write a basic letter of introduction and bring it in next lesson. That includes you, Mr. Osborn."

Harry glared and scribbled it all down before storming from the room.

~~~

Peter delicately noted down the beginners French from the white board. He didn't want to learn French. He wanted to be in a dark room, developing all the pictures he'd taken over the summer. He wanted to make a photo album and give it to Aunt May as a present. He wanted to see her smile. He hadn't seen her smile properly in a long time. Not since Uncle Ben had passed away. Peter sighed and his gaze slipped out the window. Uncle Ben had been run over by a drunk-driver last year. He'd died on the spot; they'd been promised he wouldn't have known. There would have been no pain. It took Peter a few moments to realize that his teacher was talking. His gaze turned back to the front and to the white board she was writing on. What the hell was Chavagnes International College?

"This year we are doing an exchange with a school in France, Chavagnes International. Your homework is to write a small letter, in French, about you. Try and include details about your family and the school. Class dismissed."

Peter's heart had sunk in his chest. How would Aunt May be able to afford this?