American high schools used a credit-based system with students moving between classrooms. In other words, classrooms weren't fixed; students went to the appropriate room for whichever class they had, and their remaining time was freely allocated. Courses were divided into electives and required classes. Midtown High had five required courses and two electives per semester. There were five classes each day, three in the morning starting at 8:20, and two in the afternoon, with school ending at 3:00.
There wasn't much to Peter's first day of high school: an opening ceremony, placement tests, then getting their schedules based on the test results and their own interests. They had lunch at noon, followed by club recruitment and the upperclassmen discussing this year's homecoming activities—which had little to do with freshmen.
The only thing worth mentioning was that the famous scientist Norman Osborn gave a speech during the opening ceremony.
The reason a famous entrepreneur like Osborn had come to give a speech at an ordinary public school like Midtown High was simple—his son had enrolled.
"I thought you were interested in scientists. I didn't expect you to nearly fall asleep during Osborn's speech."
"Osborn is an excellent investor and entrepreneur, but he's definitely not an excellent scientist or engineer... Hey, our school has its own TV program?"
Peter gave Gwen an ambiguous reply. He had this feeling that he wanted to care about Norman but didn't dare deliberately pay attention to him. Peter Parker currently had nothing to do with Harry Osborn, but the spider that had bitten him had undeniably been an Osborn Industries test subject.
And who could guarantee that Norman Osborn wasn't already the Green Goblin?
The only good news was probably that Norman Osborn in this universe was white.
So Peter could only absentmindedly respond to Gwen while glancing at the television in the hallway. Onscreen, a male and female high school student were broadcasting the "Midtown High Evening News." They weren't as polished as professional anchors, but they still looked fairly convincing.
"The new semester has arrived. Voting for this year's homecoming event theme has begun. Please visit the school's official website to cast your vote..."
The two watched the news for a few seconds. Gwen seemed quite excited about high school life; compared to middle school, it was much more colorful.
As for Peter, he was only planning to slip away. It was already three in the afternoon. It was time for Spider-Man to start patrolling New York.
"Oh my God! Our school even has a rock band! I want to go!"
"I think Uncle George would be furious if he found out you gave up ballet in high school to play the drums."
Peter spoke as he walked over to his locker. Hearing that, Gwen leaned against the locker beside it and raised an eyebrow.
"If you dare tell my dad, you're dead, smart guy."
"I surrender."
Peter raised both hands in surrender, then opened the new locker assigned to him on his first day and began packing his things. Only then did Gwen realize that someone had already packed up and was ready to go home. "Wait? You're already planning to leave?"
"Uh? Yes?"
"On the first day of school? You're not going to get familiar with the classrooms or see if there are any clubs you're interested in?"
"Maybe?"
"What if there happens to be some science nerd club, comic club, or Detective Agency or something?"
Peter Parker thought calmly for several seconds and came to an affirmative conclusion.
"Fine, you've convinced me. Let's enjoy high school life."
Did Peter Parker want to enjoy high school life? Maybe, but he was considering other matters. For example, Gwen had noticed that morning that Spider-Man wore the same shoes as him. Naturally, that was because making another pair of shoes cost more money. Peter needed spare uniforms to rotate through and couldn't afford to specially modify another pair of shoes. But it also reminded him that he had to be careful not to expose his identity and affect the people around him.
Of course, if something like that really happened, those people would definitely regret it.
But it was obviously better if it didn't happen. So he thought about it: if Peter Parker chose not to participate in any club activities, kept his distance from his classmates, and appeared and disappeared mysteriously all day, it wouldn't just be Gwen who grew suspicious. Maybe the teachers and students would start paying attention to him too. To avoid that, he needed to become an ordinary high school student. That was the best way to keep Spider-Man's identity from being exposed.
Besides that, it would be best if he could join an internship program at Stark Industries or Osborn Industries, so he could secretly upgrade that suit. But that meant he had to allocate his time even more carefully. Fortunately, Spider-Man's quality of rest far surpassed that of ordinary people. Peter only needed around four or five hours of sleep to shake off his fatigue.
"By the way, why did you say I'd play the drums?"
"Because... you'd be good at it." Peter thought, I can't exactly say that in some universe where you got bitten by a spider, you were the drummer in a band, can I? He could only laugh the subject away.
"So what club are you planning to join?"
"Hard to say." Peter spoke casually. "I'll definitely do the academic competitions. They'll help with college. As for student council... I'm not really interested. Midtown High probably doesn't have any high-end scientific research clubs, so an internship at Stark or Osborn Industries would be more reliable. Otherwise, I hope there's somewhere I can code with people, play Dungeons & Dragons, or build Lego sets."
"Hmm..." Gwen sighed. "That sounds like a nerd."
"I am a nerd. I like reading, technology, anime, and tabletop games. I know nothing about sports, except I keep up with long-distance running and combat training."
The two chatted as they headed toward the school's club recruitment event. But after only a few steps, they heard a familiar, unpleasant laugh.
A tall, burly guy in a short-sleeved shirt was pressing another student's head against a locker. Peter sighed helplessly, reopened his locker, and took something out.
"I can't believe every American high school has to have this stupid stuff—football or basketball idiots bullying classmates by the lockers." Peter shut his locker and looked at Gwen, who was waiting for him. "I thought you'd go help that poor little guy."
"If you weren't planning to go, I would. But now I have to be responsible for carrying you back to the nurse's office."
"It won't be like middle school, Gwen. I only went there a few times in sixth grade."
As Peter spoke, he headed toward the bullying scene. The area was lively at the moment. Sometimes Peter felt that the atmosphere in high school had probably been better in his previous life. Why did America have this culture of hating studious top students, worshipping athletic underachievers, and even enjoying watching bullying while cheering it on?
The victim was a young Asian boy. Peter didn't know him, but he knew the bully very well. It was Carl, who had spent three years of middle school battling wits with him.
What a small world.
He was just about to speak when someone actually beat him to it. A brown-haired guy in a black jacket squeezed between the two of them first and confronted Carl. "Listen, man, I don't know who you are, but if you don't stop now, you're in big trouble."
"Is that so?"
Like every high school bully in an American TV show, Carl cracked his knuckles and stepped closer with his massive six-foot-three frame. "You're the one in big trouble now, busybody."
"Hey, Carl."
A familiar voice stopped him. Peter Parker calmly walked over. "How about this? Don't bully your classmates in high school, and we can still be friends. What do you think?"
Peter Parker held out his hand to Carl with a kindly smile. Carl actually left the other two alone and reached for Peter's hand. He shook it—no, he squeezed Parker's palm.
"You won't think that when you're begging for mercy, Parker—AAAAAHHHH!"
"Pressure-triggered stun device, Carl. If you'd shaken hands properly, you wouldn't have been shocked." Peter still held Carl's hand. "And I suggest you don't throw a punch. I learned quite a few fighting techniques from my uncle over the summer. If I knock you down, I'll have to explain to the teachers that I'm not the one doing the bullying."
"Fuck you!"
Carl flung Peter's hand away and angrily threw a punch, which Peter caught in his palm. Then Carl cried out in pain once more. Peter sighed helplessly and looked at the other two guys. "Did anyone hear me explain that it was pressure-triggered?"
"Uh... Isn't the shock a little...?"
"Don't worry. I've known Carl for three years. I know he can take it." Peter smiled at the helpful guy. Carl backed away again, then lunged forward.
"I'm gonna beat you into—"
"Here's some advice, Carl. Don't yell like that." Peter reacted in a flash, sidestepped, grabbed Carl's wrist, and twisted his arm behind his back. When Carl howled in pain, Peter let go and gave his ankle a light kick. The big guy immediately crashed to the floor.
Carl angrily tried to get back up, only to see Peter Parker's gloved hand hovering in front of his face before extending into an offered handshake.
"Like I said, don't bully your classmates in high school, and we can still be friends. What do you think?"
"Fuck you."
The same words carried a different tone the second time. Carl had learned his lesson. He slapped Peter's hand aside and ran away in embarrassment.
The students watching around them were surprised and excited by the unexpected turn of events. Peter ignored them and sighed with feigned regret. "I thought we could be friends once we got to high school. You guys okay?"
He turned toward the bullied student. The small Asian boy who was getting back up was fine, and the other guy who liked meddling had already come over as well.
"That was so cool, man. You took that guy down just like that."
"We went to the same middle school. He used to bully me, so I know how to deal with him."
Only then did Peter take a closer look at the guy. Short brown hair, nearly six feet tall, and undeniably handsome. At least when it came to looks, Peter felt the other guy had him beat.
"Peter Benjamin Parker, freshman."
"Harold Layman. I'm a freshman too. Just call me Harry."
Only after shaking hands did Harry realize, "Oh! I really didn't feel anything."
"Only people trying to punch someone get shocked. Are you okay?"
"Thanks, you guys... Uh, thank you. My name is Zhao, Amadeus Zhao."
If Harry merely reminded Peter of the Harry Osborn who had gone who knew where, then Amadeus's name was enough to make him lose focus. Still, he quickly regained his composure and extended his hand. "Nice to meet you, man."
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