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money and status were going to set him apart in public school, as well.
    "Hi ya, Harry," said a familiar voice.
    He felt a quick surge of relief as Peter Parker stepped out of the crowd. Immediately Harry noted that the knees of Peter's pants were dirty, as if he'd taken a spill. Well, he could always ask him about it later.
    "Hey, Peter," he said.
    Then Harry remembered: He'd borrowed some science books from Peter and had intended to return them this morn ing, but he'd left them in the car. He started to turn back to the Bentley to get them, but his heart sank as the other back door opened and Norman Osborn stepped out. He didn't so much emerge from the car as grow from it, as if he were an extension of the power and prestige such a vehicle afforded.

    He was holding the book bag. "Won't you be needing this?" he inquired.
    He handed the bag to Harry, but his gaze was riveted on Peter, sizing up this person who had addressed Harry in such a friendly and outgoing manner. Realizing that an introduction was not only required, but inevitable, Harry cleared his throat and said, "Peter, this is my father, Norman Osborn."
    "Great honor to meet you," Peter said, shaking Norman's hand. He winced a bit.
    Norman laughed good-naturedly. "Oh, come on, son. You call that a handshake? A man is judged by the strength of his grip. Let's see what you've got."
    Peter made an obvious effort, and Harry couldn't watch. Instead he looked around at the girls who were gathering around the Bentley, oohing and aahing. He couldn't help but notice that Mary Jane Watson was one of them, looking at the car almost reverentially, as if it was the most magnificent thing she'd ever seen. He made a mental note of that. It might be that showing up in such a fancy vehicle might not have been such a bad thing after all.
    Apparently Peter had made a worthy enough effort, because Norman nodded approvingly and released his hand. "I've heard a lot about you. Harry tells me you're quite the science whiz."
    "Well, I don't know about that . . ." Quickly, Harry said, "He's being modest. I told you, Dad, he's won all the prizes."
    With a touch of reproach, Norman said, "Anyone who can get Harry to pass chemistry shouldn't be modest." "Harry's really smart. He didn't really need my help." "We have to go, Dad," Harry said. But Norman obviously found conversation with Peter too engaging to end it quickly. "I'm something of a scientist my self, you know," Norman said with genuine enthusiasm. "I know," Peter said immediately. "I know all about
    OsCorp. You guys are designing the guidance and reentry systems for the first shuttle mission to Mars. Really bril liant."
    Norman blinked in surprise at Peter's obvious and total knowledge of everything that his corporation was up to. "Impressive. Your parents must be proud."
    Sounding slightly apologetic, Peter said, "I live with my aunt and uncle. They're proud."
    The girls were now moving away from the Bentley at the urging of Mr. Sullivan, who was trying to herd them up the steps into the building.
    "What about your folks?"
    Harry wanted to say something to get Peter off the hook. But Peter took a deep breath and said, "My parents died when I was little."
    Norman seemed a bit taken aback by this, and when he spoke again, he sounded sympathetic. "I lost my parents as a young boy, as well."
    Harry, sounding a bit more sarcastic than he would have liked, said, "Which no doubt strengthened your iron will to succeed, huh, Dad?"
    From the door at the top of the steps, Mr. Sullivan—look ing on the verge of apoplexy—called down, "Hey, you two, I'm closing the door! "
    Norman released his grip on Harry's shoulder, and it was all he could do not to sag in relief. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Osborn," Peter said.
    "See you again," Norman assured him before sliding back into the Bentley.
    Mary Jane was standing near Flash but watching the Bentley as it pulled away. She shifted her gaze to Harry, and suddenly Harry felt a lot more . . . more