𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄, 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐀 - Peter Parker

𝟎𝟐. 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘩𝘦𝘳, 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘩𝘪𝘮

HEY THERE, THALIA!

𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘰𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘺 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩

𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦

𝘐 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘐 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶

𝘐 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘦.

"𝒊 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒍𝒊𝒆 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒕𝒉"

CHAPTER TWO

-FROM HER, FROM HIM-

NICKNAMES: LIA, THALS, LOONEY TOONS

" What made the rainbow- the sun or the rain? "

[ seventeen days after the move • 2 years, 6 months, 18 days till death ]

'DEAREST PETER PARKER,

FUCK YOU.'

Thalia kept her pen down and scribbled what she wrote before ripping out another page from her grey notebook to write the same words again. She was angry- angrier than she had ever been and she wasn't sure if anyone would understand. She wasn't sure if she understood herself.

Moving to California was supposed to be a good thing- she was supposed to get a new start from her hectic life back in Queens. It was supposed to be her chance to move on. It wasn't going very much to plan.

The first day at her new school had sucked- she was a smart girl (after all, she had been going to Midtown High on a full scholarship) but apparently in public school, if you are not like the others- i.e., totally lame- then you sucked. Thalia had stuck out like a sore thumb, yearning for the feeling of comfort she used to get in knowing that Peter and Ned were going to be at her locker, waiting for her.

No one waited for her in California.

It was hell.

Then there was the matter of her parents.

They thought that she was acting out 'because she was a teenager' and was 'in need for some professional help' to help her cope with 'the idea of heartbreak that she had created in her head.'

Bullshit.

Damn her for having such good parents that cared. If they were like the other half of the majority of parents in 21st century America, then Thalia wouldn't be forced to be sitting in her bedroom on a Thursday night writing a letter to someone who didn't even care. Why the hell were therapists so pushy?

Thalia was angry- she was angry at Peter for never seeing her, at her parents for making her go on stupid appointments, at her brother for playing his stupid drum so loud at 11 pm (I mean, come on! He. Is. Tone. Deaf.), at her therapist for making her write these stupid letter and at herself for being so stupid.