Chapter 1

Congregating around the ancient, derelict school bus was every member of Middletown High's eleventh year, lead by the frail, yet brilliant, Professor Warren. Strands of gloomy, grey hair were littered around his casually stark white mop. A wriggling, neatly combed moustache lay comfortably upon his upper lip. Enlarged glasses hung upon his protruding nose.

"So, Mr. Parker," quizzed Warren melodramatically. "Would you please care to emphasise on Dr. Conner's detailed work into the human monocular structure?"

That's me. Mr. Peter Parker. The class prodigy who Professor Warren is so determined crush to destroy by any means possible. Why, you may ask? Well, if I knew the answer, than I probably wouldn't be pondering over this even now.

"I don't know, Sir," I reluctantly muttered under my breath.

"Ah," smirked Warren as he basked in the glory of a magnificent victory. "So, not even Parker knows everything!"

At the front, the egotistic Flash Thompson brutally cackled at me as I squirmed uncomfortably. Hanging on the popular young man's shoulders was the adorable, yet relatively dim-witted, Liz Allen. Together, they were the pinhole of relentless gossip in gang circles.

"Sir," my best friend, Harry Osborn, strutted to the front of the crowd - his peculiar hair unaffected by the wind - where he declared his point. "I do believe that you are quizzing Peter on a hypothesis only studied by members of Oscorp. My father informed me of it many blue moons ago. Now, can you stop patronising us and get on with the trip? Father expects us their in twenty minutes!"

For a moment, Warren stood bewildered, contemplating how to rise to Harry's sudden contradiction. Then, he finally came up with a witty response:

"Ah, Mr. Osborn. Fame doesn't get you anywhere in life. As long as you're my pupil, I won't treat you any different to my other budding students! Comprendo? Good. Let's proceed…"

Maybe I should fill you in on the gaps. If you haven't heard of the billionaire philanthropist and scientist Norman Osborn, then have you been living under a rock for the last twenty years? Ten years ago, he formed Oscorp with his two faithful allies – Michael Morbius and Otto Octavius. Well, Harry was his own flesh and blood - yet somehow best mates with me, geek of the year!

When Harry had eventually retraced his steps to find me, I gave him my gratitude for sticking up to Warren. Despite his speech on treating people equally, Harry was the only one who could contradict Warren without receiving a one-way ticket to referral.

"Anytime, bro," smirked Harry; his trademark grin never disappeared. "Busman's holiday for me this. Come to school to get taught and look at us! We're having a 'fun day out' to Dad's works. Yippee!"

I could suppress the slight giggle that slipped past my lips. Of course, the attentive Professor Warren noticed my moment of happiness and seemed determined to annihilate it.

"Would you please inform you of the humorous joke you have just heard or told, Mr. Parker?" never had I seen Warren so jubilant. He loved every minute of my discomfort.

Yet once again, a dear friend saved me. Mary Jane Watson game sprinting down the road towards our huddled group. Her crimson hair trickled down her albino face. Aqua eyes glistened in the morning sunlight. A flora t-shirt hung over her spindly frame. Scarlet lipstick illuminated her protruding lips. Lower down, her…

Oh come on, I'm a male teenager! I'm allowed to have the odd inappropriate thought! Anyway, the sudden interruption caused Warren's bitter retorts to cease.

"Sorry I'm late, sir," apologised MJ, almost sounding like she meant it. "Got held up!"

"By the fashion police," snorted Liz Allen wickedly. Sometimes, I honestly believe that Liz is a decent person but manipulated by Flash Thompson.

Disappointed by the unexpected distraction, Warren commanded us to board the dishevelled bus. MJ plonked herself down next to me; both of us were relatively close the front. Harry took his place behind us. Alas, the gang was together. No interruptions from Flash, Liz or any of the other ill tempered, popular bullies.

"So, how ya' doing, Tiger?" casually questioned MJ. Those mere words were enough to set my heart racing.

"Fine, MJ," I desperately tried to maintain my cool demeanour; which is not easy when you have a foot thick glasses bulging off your face. "You know, the usual. With great power comes great responsibility gimmick from Uncle Ben and Aunt May!"

MJ chuckled at this comment. Just her mere smile illuminated the room.

"You know they love you, Pete…" she began, solemnly just as Harry interrupted with his band's latest tune (The Goblins present: Flying on a glider).

It was in that time period – the calm before the storm – that my life hit an all time high. That was before that dam spider pierced my skin, I dealt with the Kingpin of crime and duelled a vampire army with an alluring lust for blood.

My blood.