The Light in my Darkness

Chapter 1

A/n: Clint adopted Wanda and Peter (yes his name is Peter because they're american and peter is the Am. Version of pietro). Cilnt is 12-15 years older than the reader who is in college and therefore above the age of consent. Hopefully that addresses most of the comments. Now, enjoy!
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You hurried into the Red Eye Café, slipping off your jacket as you came through the door. "Sorry, I'm late."

Curtis was in his usual spot behind the counter, looking more linebacker than diner owner. He looked up at your announcement before waving you off as if it wasn't important. And to him it wasn't. He and his wife Maria had opened the little diner when they were in their mid-20s. Now, they were in their fifties and had three grown boys and twice the space.

They treated you like family and that meant they weren't overly put out if you were a couple of minutes, or even a couple of hours, late. You cared more than they did, truth be told. Curtis finished topping off someone's coffee and glanced at you as he put the pot back. "Everything all right?"

You nodded as you tied on an apron. "The mailman came right as I was leaving. I stayed until he finished." You held up the large envelope clutched tightly in your hand. "They're here. All of them."

"Maria, she got the letters," Curtis called through the window to his wife. You saw her wipe her hands off on a towel before she came out of the kitchen.

"Well, let's see what you got, baby. Don't keep us in suspense," she ordered as she came to stand beside her husband. You grinned as you dumped out the envelope of mail from your father's house. His butler collected it all week and then would send it on.

You pulled out the four envelopes you'd been waiting on and laid them on the counter in front of you. When you announced at the end of your previous semester that you were dropping out of business school to pursue a degree in art, your father had cut you off completely. Well, he would in less than two weeks when the new semester started and you weren't enrolled in your business classes. These were the letters that would tell you how much financial aid you would be receiving to help with school.

The letter from the art school was first. They had their own scholarships and grant programs and you'd applied for everything you were eligible for. You unfolded the paper and ran your eyes over the text.

"We think you for your interest. Your status is below. Blah, blah, blah." Your voice trailed off and your brow furrowed as you took in the list. Denied. Denied. Not awarded. Not qualified. What the hell?

You ignored Curtis and Maria as they asked what the letter said and dropped the paper onto the counter. You grabbed the envelope for a state grant and skimmed that letter to find more of the same. As you feared, the two federal grants were no better. You licked your lips as moisture pooled in your eyes. You dropped your head into your hands.

"Not even a dime," you said, knowing your bosses were waiting for the verdict.

"What? That doesn't make any sense." Curtis snatched one of the letters off the counter to read it for himself.

You lifted your head. "I don't qualify for any sort of aid because my father makes too much money."

"But he's not helping you pay for anything," Maria argued.

"They don't care. He's capable of it, so they won't help me." Tears overflowed and ran down your cheeks.

"Don't cry, sweetheart. There's still student loans." His voice took on the soft tone he got when either you or Maria were upset.

You shook your head. "Not without him cosigning. And what's the point of an art degree if I have to pay back thousands of dollars of debt when I graduate. I'll be paying off loans until I'm eighty. Shit." You shoved the papers across the counter. "Throw those away. I can't stand to look at them anymore."