𝐂𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐈𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐖𝐞𝐛 • 𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐫 ¹

4. The Mysterious Rich Boy

"Come on, Michelle, you have to at least take a break," the red-head spoke.

The brunette, Michelle, let out a groan and shut her book, upset that she interrupted whatever she was reading. Whatever it was, it must've been an interesting plot.

"Hey, guys," Gwen greeted them. Gwen then put a hand on my shoulder, almost making me want to pull away. She seemed to be a touchy-feely person, too. "Do you mind if Holly sits with us?"

"No. Not at all," the red-head replied, scooting over to make room for both of us.

Gwen scooted in while I sat on her right, sandwiching her in between the red-head and I. The girl then leaned forward past Gwen, smiling at me; her cheeks soft and rosey.

"Hi. How are you, Holly?" She asked, her voice coming out velvety.

"I'm good," I replied, cracking a faint smile.

"That's good to hear." The red-head moved her hand to pick up a carrot with her fork, taking one bite into it delicately. While eating, Gwen decided to take control of the situation.

"So, Holly, this is Mary Jane Watson, and across from us is Michelle Jones."

Michelle looked up from her plate and said, "Welcome to the club. My friends call me MJ."

"I thought you said you didn't have friends?" Mary Jane asked innocently.

"Yeah. I don't," Michelle replied, giving her a look.

Silence lingered after that. Mary Jane didn't call out concern to MJ as she grabbed her book, flipping through the pages where she previously left off while eating her potato. Mary Jane really looked like she wanted to go against it, but stayed silent, showing concern in her kind eyes, reluctantly going back to take another bite of her sandwich. Gwen didn't know what to say, bouncing her leg up and down like she was trying to figure out our next topic. I most definitely had nothing to say, so I ate quietly like everyone else.

That is, until I heard almost the entire cafeteria quiet down to whispers and murmurs. Almost. Some were whispering 'rich boy alert' or 'oh, he's here', but much rather happily. Mary Jane, Gwen and I turned our heads - except for Michelle as she was so caught up in reading - toward the doors leading outside. A person, who was at least five feet and ten inches, walked in, dressed like a model. His dark hair was blow-dried, making it voluminous with a strand of hair dipping in front of his face, hanging over his shining hazel eyes. When he turned his head to look behind him, his jawline showed right through the surface, causing a group of girls sitting at a table to melt. I furrowed my eyebrows together, eyeing him as he walked over to a table to sit by some people I assumed were his friends.

"Who is that?" I asked whoever was listening at my table.

"Harry Osborn," Mary Jane replied, almost dreamily. "He's one of the richest kids in school. And his father is Norman Osborn."

"Huh?" I said, confused.

"You know, the Norman Osborn," Gwen said. "Founder and CEO of Oscorp. His wife died giving birth to Harry, and since then, his father became cold and unloving."

"And Harry tries so hard to earn his father's approval," Mary Jane finished, sighing as she turned her head toward the rich kid. "I just feel bad for him."

"Oh, whatever," Gwen said, rolling her eyes. "He's nothing but an obscuring dipshit with daddy issues."

Gwen unknowingly turned her head to Harry Osborn, and she watched as he ran his fingers through his clean curly locks, having a handsome smile on his face. I watched Gwen's face grow slightly red like a tomato, turning back to the group.

"Okay, he's a hot obscuring dipshit," Gwen admitted, attempting to grab her fork, but failed when it slipped right out of her fingers.

"Well, at least he isn't selfish. He's been there for Peter Parker when he was going through a tough time."

I nearly choked on my water. For the first time in five minutes, Michelle looked up from her book when she heard me coughing.

"Peter Parker?" I recited, wiping a mixture of water and spit with the back of my hand.

"Yes," Mary Jane replied, handing me some napkins from her tray to wipe off the drool I had nearly spit up over my lap. "He and Harry have been friends since they were in fourth grade."

"Wow. That long?"

"Mhmm."

Who would have thought? I thought. I craned my neck to look at the millionaire rich boy. For a brief moment, his eyes found mine. I couldn't look away no matter how much I tried. It was like I was under his spell, trapped in his gaze. In a sense, I couldn't recall how I broke away until I felt someone lightly shaking my shoulder. It was Gwen.

"Hey. Come on, the bell rang. We'll walk you to your third class."

Without saying a word, I nodded my head. I was still in a haze as I grabbed my teal colored tray off the table, glancing behind me one final time to look at Harry Osborn. As if he knew I was watching, he raised his head to lock his hazel eyes with mine. Only for a moment before his face was lost in a sea of students getting up to reluctantly start their next class.