Peter frowned when the bell for first class rang. Harry hadn't shown up for school; that was a first for his best friend. Even if Harry thought he would be late, Peter would get a text message to explain that he was stuck in traffic or getting another lecture by his Father. Peter checked his phone. No messages. An annoyed grunt escaped his lips as he rushed to his locker, pulling it open to get his books. When a small envelope fell out, he frowned, kneeling down to pick it up. The only words on the from was his name, the gently sloping of Harry's handwriting the only clue to what it might contain. Peter frowned and shoved it in his coat pocket as he grabbed his books, running off to class.

...

In class, Peter settled at the back and fiddled with the envelope in his pocket. He should read it but he knew if the teacher caught him she would confiscate it. But, as the proverb goes, curiosity killed the cat. Peter pulled it out and gently ripped it open, unfolding the delicate page between his fingers.

-

'Peter,

By the time you're reading this, I'll be on a plane somewhere over the Atlantic. I am so sorry I never told you sooner but Father decided that the best course of action for me would be to send me to this boarding school in France. It looks like a prison. I should have told you but a) I didn't want you making this a big deal and b) I didn't want to dampen the last few days I had with you. If I can get you an address to send mail to, I'll send you a letter. If I can't... Then you'll get no letter. I didn't know what to say to you about anything and there was something I should have told you a long time ago. Sorry I'm only telling you now when I've long gone.

You know, for a long time, I've had this strange feeling in my chest when we're together. This... Yearning I suppose I could call it. This ache for you to hold me close to you. This pain for you to keep me at your side all the time. It hurts. A lot. The thought that I won't see you for ages hurts. The thought that I might not see you again... Kills inside. I was talking to Maria (the new babysitter. She's really nice actually. I'm going to miss her) and she said it was a crush. How about it, huh? The obnoxious rich boy got a crush on the poor kid who could barely afford his tuition. It's all very "The Prince and the Pauper", no?

My feelings for you... I should probably talk about them. They're not simple. Not simple at all. They're deadlier than a lioness protecting her young and more confusing than Flash Thompson being kind to you. There are many days where I wake up and see your text and just groan because it feels like a chore to reply to you; by the end of it I'm always smiling. However, most days I wake up and scramble for my phone, wanting to reply to you as soon as I can. It's what starts off my morning even if it's just a message off you saying "XD". It always leaves me smiling like an idiot.
This is all going to sound terribly cliché (well I am top of creative writing, what do you expect?) but you are the Courtney Love to my Kurt Cobain; the Yoko to my John; my Jared to my Shannon (that rock band I introduced you to? 30 Seconds to Mars?).

When we started talking, I felt so alone. I had no one. Just different nannies and butlers and who ever that changed all the time. Then I met you back in Grade Three. There was something there straight away. Something there... Something good.

Jesus, I just wish I had the courage to tell you all this face-to-face. Sorry I couldn't. I'm sorry if you hate me after reading this letter. I'm gonna miss you so much Pete. Please don't forget me.

Harry.'

-

Peter looked up from the letter, tears staining his cheeks. Harry was gone. He was in France. In a whole different school. Nearly on the other side of the world. His only friend was gone. A friend that shared the same feelings. He stood slowly and walked out of his class, ignoring his teacher as he rushed off home.