Mrs. Snow.
Her full name is Selina Snow, and she is their eleventh grade counselor.
From small things like personal social and emotional support to big things like personal development and college advancement guidance, these are all Mrs. Snow's responsibilities.
Unlike public high schools that need to be responsible for a hundred or even more than two hundred counselors.
But Midtown High School is a private high school, so Mrs. Snow is only responsible for a total of thirty-five students.
This also allows her to better provide more in-depth and personalized support to the students she is responsible for.
It was another coincidence.
He and Gwen's counselor happened to be Mrs. Snow.
However originally wanted to take a quick shower and change into clean clothes but failed, and Gwen urged him to go to Mrs. Snow's office.
Hawke asked Gwen beside him with some curiosity.
"Did Mrs. Snow say anything?"
"No, she just asked if I knew where you were.
If I did, she told me to find you and we could go to her office together."
"Really?"
Hawke thought for a moment, then looked at Gwen. "Could it be about college? Your Berkeley early admission and scholarship application?"
This was the only possibility he could think of for Mrs. Snow asking him to go to her office with Gwen.
After all, by the end of this month, when school starts in September, they'll be in twelfth grade.
They'll graduate from high school next June.
But before that, high-achieving students have already locked down their favorite universities, and their favorite universities will also lock down students.
Gwen, for example, has her heart set on Berkeley.
Berkeley, located in California, is a public research university known as the Public Ivy League.
It has produced over a hundred Nobel laureates, the third-highest number in the country.
Gwen shrugged and looked at Hawke.
"What about you? Have you decided to study law at NYU? Have you not considered Stanford?"
Although NYU's law program is also very good.
But everyone hates comparison.
If you compare it to Stanford, at least in law, Stanford slays NYU.
So Gwen was a little confused.
"I heard from Mrs. Snow that she also recommended you prioritize Stanford."
"Because I definitely won't get a Stanford scholarship,"
Hawke shrugged, explaining as he and Gwen walked towards Mrs. Snow's office.
"NYU is different.
While I won't get the highest-end scholarship, I'll definitely get one.
And if I get one, I can negotiate the interest rate when I go to a bank to take out a loan."
Yes.
It was that simple.
He also wanted to study law at Stanford, and even Yale, and see if he could join some mysterious organization.
But that was a matter of whether he could go if he wanted to.
Regardless of whether they would accept him, even if they did, the tuition at both Stanford and Yale would be enough to crush him.
Hawke was being realistic.
He was going to take out loans anyway, so why not find a school with a higher probability of receiving a scholarship and taking out a smaller loan?
He didn't want to wait until he was fifty or sixty and still be paying off student loans every month.
Of course, that was his plan before awakening his inner universe.
Now?
Hawke had even less ambition to go to Stanford or Yale.
NYU was pretty good, and he was only familiar with New York City in this life. He was just trying to be comfortable, so staying within his comfort zone was fine.
Gwen frowned slightly at Hawke's joking excuse.
She was about to say something, but when she thought of Hawke, who was also seventeen years old and had no car, house, or cell phone, she gave up.
Soon,
Hawke and Gwen arrived at Mrs. Snow's office.
"Knock knock!"
"Come in,"
Mrs. Snow's voice echoed from inside.
Gwen pushed the door open and looked at Mrs.
Snow, who was sitting behind her desk.
She wore glasses and looked kind and gentle, about forty years old.
She greeted her.
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"Mrs. Snow."
"Gwen, take a seat."
"Hawk."
Mrs. Snow looked at Gwen as she entered, smiling and gesturing at the sofa.
Then, looking at Hawke who had followed closely behind, she sighed and said, "Again, Hawke, you really should get a cell phone.
" It was so inconvenient not having a cell phone these days.
When Hawke first started school, Mrs. Snow, upon learning of his situation, offered to give him an unused phone, but Hawke declined, saying he'd get one as soon as possible.
And then from the time he started ninth grade until now, almost at the end of eleventh grade, every time Mrs. Snow asked about Hawke's phone, Hawke would always say, "Yes, yes,yes, yes, yes.
" Sure enough,Hawke's answer this time wasn't exactly the same as before; it was a copy and paste.
"I'll get it as soon as possible."
"You always say that."
Mrs. Snow listened to Hawke's response, feeling a little tired.
Just as she was about to say something else,there was another knock on the office door.
The next second,another familiar face walked in.
Hawke, who had just settled down on the sofa, raised an eyebrow at the familiar figure who walked in.
Peter Parker.
But for some reason, the Peter Parker Hawke saw this time seemed different from the one he'd seen in the shower last time.
How should one put it?
This time, he saw the shadow of the bully Maguire in Peter Parker.
Specifically, if before, he'd seen Peter Parker as just Peter Parker, then the Peter Parker now reminded Hawke of the superhero Spider-Man.
Maguire's version of Spider-Man.
The original Spider-Man.
Yes.
Although this was the Marvel Universe, Spider-Man should logically be the League's version of Spider-Man.
But the Peter Parker he saw was Maguire's version of Peter Parker.
It was strange.
It was incomprehensible.
"Mrs. Snow."
"Peter."
Mrs. Snow's eyes lit up as she watched Peter Parker walk in.
"Wow, Peter, I haven't seen you in a few days.
I feel like you've suddenly grown stronger."
Yes.
If Peter before was a skinny guy, then Peter now was a calf.
Hearing this, Peter scratched his head awkwardly, then smiled shyly.
His gaze fell on Hawke, who was sitting on the sofa.
He froze for a moment, as if stunned.
Hawke happened to be looking at Peter.
Their eyes met.
Hawke saw everything.
The moment Peter Parker's gaze fell on him, Peter's pupils contracted and then dilated at a frantic rate.
Sure enough.
If nothing unexpected happened,
Peter must have mutated.
The real, first-generation spider spirit, who didn't rely on technology and could spit silk from his wrist, had successfully gone online.
...
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