MJ
MJ's POV
Michelle regretted cancelling on Peter almost as soon as she walked into her apartment. As expected, the benches were covered in more beer bottles and there was a stack of dishes her mum must have used throughout the day. She sighed as she set her backpack on the couch and got to work. Over the past few weeks doing this, cleaning away the reminders of her pretty depressing life, had a reward. She had a routine for her mum's night shift nights: return from school, do homework, clean the apartment and finish reading her latest book while eating dinner. By the time she was done, it was usually close to their meeting time and if not she would walk around the corner park or just simply wait for Peter as she started another book.
But tonight there was no reward. Tonight she'd be alone and it was her doing.
Her relationship with her mother was practically non-existent but Michelle still found comfort in having someone in the apartment with her that she trusted; even if it was barely. She supposed though that depended on if her mother had brought home yet another old man. She had bought a deadbolt for her door months ago after saving some money by helping babysit for their neighbours, and after that incident with that one particular man, she knew that to be safe all she needed to do was hide in her room until they left. She was relieved she had a small bathroom attached to her bedroom. That would be awkward otherwise. And she kept a big bottle of water on her desk that she always checked to make sure was full before she left for school each day. They rarely stayed for more than a day, but she had to be cautious. The only thing she needed now was a mini-fridge so she'd be able to hide some snacks in case she was hungry.
That's how she got caught out last time. She had been hungry after a long night of studying and reading.
He had cornered her in the kitchen before dragging her to the lounge room.
Now she just waited until they left, or until she fled for school should they be there on a school morning.
As the evening passed, her phone kept a regular buzzing as Peter sent her texts, memes and random photos. She hadn't bothered to reply to any of them, but he carried on unbothered.
Spiderboi: Yo guess who just got a doughnut for finding a cat?
Spiderboi: *cat meme*
Spiderboi: *selfie of him web-swinging*
It wasn't until 10pm that he seemed to realise she wasn't going to reply. The stream of messages ended with one.
Spiderboi: Are you okay, MJ?
She chewed on her lip as she read the message again and again. After completing her usual routine she decided to reward herself with a bath. She tried to stick to short showers because the water bill was just another stressor, but she needed it tonight. As she soaked in the warm water, the scent from a cheap bath bomb filling the room, she had thought about her roiling stomach and, as disgusting it was, the jealousy in her chest. She liked Liz, but she concluded she liked her relationship with Peter more and she knew based on his reaction to her text that this was going to change things, at least until Liz left the city again. Even though he probably wouldn't, she dreaded Peter talking about Liz this and Liz that; the way he used to when his crush was at its worst before Homecoming.
Because although she liked Liz, there had been an unacknowledged competition between them from the start. Just as MJ was smart, so was Liz and though MJ never lost her spot at the top of the class, she had been the Decathlon leader, the top cheerleader, and the best at just being a good person out of the two. She didn't want to have to compete for Peter too, as disgusting as the thought was and she knew she was being ridiculous.
She had received that last text from Peter as she had pulled on her favourite pyjamas and climbed into bed. She tried to ignore it, going back to her book but after fifteen minutes she gave up.
MaJestic: Want to come over?
His reply came immediately as if he was waiting for it.
Spiderboi: I'm across the city. Time me.
She allowed herself a small chuckle and set the timer. She estimated that it would probably take him a good half an hour, but as the timer app reached 20 minutes, she heard tapping at her window.
"Oh lord," she thought to herself as she scrambled out of bed and only just realised how tragic her room was. "What have I done?"
Screw what he thinks.
Peter sat on the ledge, posing like in that scene from Titanic as he waited for her to open the window. She laughed again and felt the tightness in her chest ease.
Peter did a flip into her room and yanked his mask off with a smile.
"Did you get my reference?"
"Obviously," she rolled her eyes and plopped on her bed, gesturing for him to do the same. "Twenty minutes, by the way."
Peter groaned dramatically.
"I felt like only ten."
"You may be fast but you're not that fast."
He laughed with her but soon stopped, eyeing her thoughtfully.
She realised she should probably feel embarrassed by her appearance right now. She was wearing a holey black t-shirt with grey sweatpants and her hair was piled messily on top of her head. She probably looked as tragic as her stupid room.
"There was no English assignment," he said simply as he met her eyes and she had to glance away.
"Yeah," she said, and silence fell over the room. She wanted to say something, anything, but she couldn't formulate it. She didn't want to tell him about Liz, that would reveal too much of herself.
"Why'd you lie?" he asked simply again, and guilt hit her like a wave as he shifted uncomfortably, leaning on his knees as he watched her. But again, the words wouldn't come. So, softer this time, he asked,
"What's going on, MJ?"
And before she could stop herself, before she could even process the tsunami rising in her chest, Michelle burst into tears.
And once they started, they wouldn't stop.
It felt like forever as she shook and sobbed into the knees she had pulled to her chest. She barely even registered Peter's hand rubbing soothing circles on her shoulder as he waited for her to calm down.
There was so much pain. Pain that she knew was there but kept hidden with a secure lock and key. It hurt so so much.
She must have said that last bit out loud because she heard him whisper.
"I know."
Gradually, the sobs gave way to softer tears and eventually they transformed into the occasional hiccup. Through it all Peter sat quietly, rubbing her back and making the occasional remark.
"It's okay." "I know." "I'm here." "Let it out."
When she finally finished crying, all the tears she could possibly shed, she felt exhausted, and heat crept up her neck.
"What the fuck?" her mind hissed at her. "What the fuck did you just do?"
Shame hit her like a tonne of bricks.
"I'm so sorry," she finally said as she looked at him. She must look like a mess. Her eyes felt puffy, and her hair had started falling from its bun.
She thought she'd see shock on his face and awkwardness, but he just watched her, mouth in a grim line but eyes full of understanding. She had to look away.
"Don't apologise," he said as he withdrew his hand from her back and turned so he was sitting directly across from her, cross-legged on her bed just as she was.
She wanted to apologise again or say anything at all, but she couldn't think. Her mind was moving slowly as if all her thoughts had turned to mush. It wasn't a familiar feeling and MJ realised she didn't like it so much.
"You've been hurt by someone, haven't you?" Peter's voice was low.
She met his eyes again and they were soft and full of pain that her own must be showing. It was uncomfortable, but she supposed she couldn't just cry and send him on his way. She needed to be in control and maybe, just talking about it, would allow her to have control over this.
"Yes," she eventually whispered, and their hands reached for each other at the same time. She gripped it as she looked down. "Yes, I have."