Chapter 3
peter
Turns out that two weeks fly by faster than Peter can comprehend. Gwen hasn’t said a word to Peter since she found out, and she actually blocked him from seeing her story on Snapchat. That really pissed him off. ALthough, he hasn’t exactly had time to focus on Gwen ignoring him, because Peter has been with MJ, constantly, for the past two weeks, trying to come up with a solid plan that would solve all of their problems.
Problem one: Gwen hating Peter’s guts. “Just tell her you love her,” Michelle said one morning. She hadn’t gone home in a few days at that point, and he didn’t exactly want to ask why, because if she did, she might leave. “I think she’s more mad about the fact that you don’t love her.”
“I’m not lying to her, MJ.” Michelle raised an eyebrow at him and he groaned, “Fine. I’m not lying to her anymore.” The eyebrow remained up, and he knew what she was thinking about. His hands instantly got clammy, and he tried covering his awkwardness up by throwing a paper plate at her. “Jesus, Michelle, stop pointing out how terrible I am. I am not telling her I love her when I don’t.”
“If it keeps her from ratting on you to the entire city, then why not?” It registered at that moment that MJ doesn’t fully grasp what an ‘I love you’ can mean to a person. His heart cracked a little bit.
“Because if I love her, then I would’ve told her when she told me. And second of all, that’s cruel. When someone tells you they love you, they should mean it, and I’m not someone who is an-‘I love you’-whore.” He’s only ever told a girl he loved her once. And it hurt so bad when she didn’t say it back.
Michelle stared at him, contemplating something in her mind, and then said, “Fine. Scratch that idea.”
Problem two: Gwen not even talking to Peter. He refused to spam her on iMessage, which made Michelle incredibly frustrated, so she told him the next best plan was so show up at her house. “That feels invasive.”
“This is getting annoying, Peter. School starts in ten days. Do you know how much damage a girl can do in ten days? You either want her back or not. You either want her to leak your secret to the public or not. Fucking choose, Peter.”
“I…” he was shocked at her abruptness. I want you, he thought. And then he wanted to hit himself upside the head, because he really needs to stop thinking like that. “I want to be with her.”
Michelle’s expression hardened, making it look like she was delivered a hard blow to the stomach. “Fine,” she sniffed, “Then go to her damn house and talk to her. She likes lilies, if you didn’t know.”
Gwen really, really didn’t want to talk to him, though. He showed up outside her apartment building in his “Fuck Midtown!” shirt, hoping he would get a smile out of her, but he got nothing. Her little brother answered the door and said, “‘Fuck Midtown’? Fuck you.” And slammed the door.
Then, Peter scaled the building, stopping at Gwen’s window. He could see her lying on her bed, emotionless, and in her oversized sweatpants that Peter got her as a joke. He knocked on the window, and when she ignored him, he knocked again. “I’m not leaving until you talk to me, Gwen Stacy!”
“Then you can rot out there!” she yelled back. Twenty minutes later, he knew she was serious.
Problem three: the morning after Gwen found out, Peter and Michelle woke up with Peter holding her. He didn’t even remember falling asleep, but he knew they were up past three. He felt so content, waking up next to her. She still used the same shampoo, her hair smelling like vanilla and roses, and even after a year he remembered all the places where she liked him to be. His arm tucked underneath her, his other arm across the middle. Peter’s head bent down as if to look like he was kissing her shoulder, and one of her legs stacked between his.
He woke up with an overwhelming feeling of joy. Peter missed her. He even missed her snoring. However, it messed a lot of things up. Michelle has been short tempered with him ever since, and even when school started they let Ned walk in between them so they wouldn’t accidentally touch. Also, even though Peter’s pretty sure he’s broken up with Gwen, he feels like he cheated on her. And that is not a very good feeling.
They still don’t have a solution to that problem, a good or bad one.
“Okay, so dude, you won’t believe what just happened to me.” The smile plastered across Ned’s face was contagious. Life might’ve been kicking Peter’s ass right now but he’s happy his best friend is having a good time. “Homecoming is weeks away but Betty Brant asked me! She said she wanted to ‘lock me down.’ Can you believe that?”
“That’s awesome, dude,” Peter smiles. His tone must not have been convincing because Ned’s face fell.
“Shit, should I not have brought up relationships? I know Gwen still isn’t talking to you and that you’re in love with Michelle. Is it a sensitive topic for you?”
“Wh- Excuse- I am not!” Peter’s practically choking on his tongue and Ned is sitting next to him laughing. Is he really that transparent?
“Chill out! She might not be my type, but I think you should get rid of girl G and get with girl M. Not that G isn’t great, I just think she isn’t for you.” Ned does this thing where he tries to talk in a secret code sometimes so passer-byers won’t know what they’re talking about, and today, it’s getting on Peter’s nerves.
“Can you not do that right now? I’m really not in the mood for cryptic Ned.” Peter slams his locker shut and they walk to lunch. “Anyways, it’s not that easy. Not after the way things ended.”
“So what, Peter? It’s not like what happened was so unforgivable-- because look! You forgave her! It was one stupid comment--”
“I don’t care, Ned. Also she doesn’t even like me like that anymore. It’s a lost cause.” Peter’s going to have to sit him down and talk about boundaries sometime soon.
“What’s a lost cause?” said a voice from behind them, and Peter almost screams.
“MJ, I swear to god, you do that one more time and you’re never allowed in my house again.”
Michelle scoffs, “Someone’s a little heated today.” Her and Ned exchange agreeing looks and then she falls into place next to Ned. “What’s a lost cause?” she repeats, curiously resting her chin on Ned’s shoulder.
“Me and Gwen,” Peter lies. Well, it’s not really a lie-- it has now been two and a half weeks since she last talked to him, and Peter isn’t stupid enough to think he really has a chance with her anymore-- it’s just not what he and Ned were talking about.
“Peter’s so fucked,” Ned giggles, and when he spots someone he ditches Peter and MJ faster than Peter can argue. “Betty! Wait up! I’ll catch you guys at lunch.”
Peter and Michelle walk in silence for the majority of the time. If you saw them, you wouldn’t even think they were walking together. They’re standing with enough room for someone to push past them, and Peter looks at MJ only a handful of times before he deems it too dangerous in case of unexpected sprinters. She’s wearing the overalls she borrowed from May with a red long sleeve shirt underneath it-- red and blue, did she do that on purpose?
“Hey, Peter?” Michelle pulls him aside before they make it into the lunchroom. “I don’t think it’s a lost cause.”
“What isn’t?” Peter, who has a memory of two seconds, has been totally preoccupied thinking of someone else. Her hair is down and one side is pinned back with a… Spider-Man clip? “When did you get that?” he asks.
“Shut up, it was the only one I could find,” she quickly retorts. “Did you not know you have merch? There’s literally a whole shop dedicated to you on 111th street. Not that I would know, or anything.” He sees her cheeks flood with embarrassment, but he doesn’t have any time to enjoy it before she changes the subject. “Anyway, you and Gwen. It’s not a lost cause.”
Peter wishes she stops bringing it up. “What do you mean?”
“She’s in there, sitting by herself. Go sit next to her.” MJ sees Peter’s reluctance cross his face, and she rolls her eyes and huffs out, “I dare you. Will that make you do it?”
___
one year ago
“Peter? Are you playing?” someone shouted at him from across the room. The sophomores, and the remaining people who thought prom was a waste of time and or couldn’t attend, threw a party Flash Thompson’s house. Of course, he was in on it, but he wasn’t actually there.
“What am I playing?” Peter asked, taking a swift drink of his beer before seeing the circle that took up most of the living room. Beer did nothing for him, his metabolism was way too fast, but if he didn’t drink beer someone would call him a pussy. Not that he cared or anything, it’s just that Penis Parker was annoying enough, he didn’t need to be called Pussy Parker, too.
“Truth or dare,” MJ said from the other side of the circle. Peter was shocked that she was here, because he invited her and she explicitly said no. “You’re playing, Parker. Abraham, move over there so Peter can sit next to me.”
The first person to be asked was Peter, surprisingly. “Dare,” he said to Cindy.
She smiled mischievously, “Peter Parker, I dare you to take your shirt off.” Cindy and a bunch of other girls chanted as Peter grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled it off his head, and clapped when they saw his abs. They really weren’t that impressive, in Peter’s opinion. He’s seen Captain America-- Peter was nothing compared to Steve Rogers.
Michelle was picked a few rounds after. “Dare,” MJ confidently spoke, as if they wouldn’t come up with a dare she hasn’t already done.
“I dare you to take a tequila shot off of Peter’s abs.”
“Ha, did I say dare? Because I meant truth,” Michelle was blushing profusely, and she refused for five minutes before someone yelled, “JUST FUCKING DO IT ALREADY!”
Peter’s toes curled when he felt her tongue move up his abdomen, licking the salt off. She kept her hand on his stomach when she took the shot, and then their lips lightly grazed when she took the lime from his mouth. Peter felt flustered. MJ was his friend, and only his friend.
Had her lips always looked that good before?
They both do a few more dares, one or two truths, where they didn’t have to do anything sexual. Even though Betty was dared to give Peter a lap dance, but that didn’t really count because it wasn’t his dare. It was edging on two in the morning, and everybody was getting tired of the game, so maybe Peter wouldn’t have to--
“Peter, truth?” a girl Peter has literally never seen before in his life asked.
“That’s not how the game wor--” he started, but she cut him off before he could finish.
“Who in this circle do you want to kiss the most?” Fuck. He didn’t have to answer her question. Did she even go to his school? Peter saw all the eyes peering at him, and noticed the one next to him who was awkwardly looking at her hand, and he knew he had to answer.
“Uh… MJ, I guess.” He stared at her as her head shot up. Peter didn’t miss the smile that quickly graced her face.
The girl who asked Peter whispered something into Cindy’s ear, and Cindy laughed before asking Michelle, “Truth or dare?”
“Dare,” her voice wavered. Peter’s would have too if Cindy’s eyes were staring at him like that.
“Kiss Peter.”
Goddamnit. Peter’s eyes went wide and his heartbeat picked up. If MJ kissed him, Ned would never let them live it down, and he wouldn’t be able to look her in the eye without thinking of the time his tongue was down her throat. But Cindy wasn’t asking for a makeout, so maybe it would be okay.
That’s what she got, though. While Peter was busy freaking out, Michelle took Peter’s head in her hands and turned it to face her’s. She chuckled before leaning in, probably mentally making fun of him, and Peter finally checked back into reality just before her lips were on his. He closed the gap first. Michelle crawled onto his lap, her hands all over Peter’s bare chest, and Peter hugged her at the waist as he did what he predicted: slid her tongue into her mouth. God, he was never going to forget that. They fell backwards, Peter hitting his head on the back of the couch, but the kiss didn’t break. He was spinning. He never knew a kiss would make him feel like this.
“Get a room!” Charles shouted, and everyone followed with laughter.
“Gladly!”
What the hell? MJ stood up off of Peter and helped him onto his feet, and then lead him into a guest room. Peter’s hands were clammy, and he wasn’t able to process everything that was happening. He shouldn’t want this to happen. MJ, as he kept repeating over and over again in his head, was his friend. Peter shouldn’t want to kiss her again, or to feel her weight against his, and he really shouldn’t want to put his hand up her sh--
“Sorry about that, Peter,” Michelle said when she closed the door. “They were annoying me. Just because you’ve got abs of steel doesn’t mean they can objectify you,” she tried joking, but it landed flatly.
Peter didn’t smile. MJ was still holding his hand, and she wasn’t letting go. “So that’s all it was? Trying to make them uncomfortable?” Say no, his heart chants, or maybe somewhere else.
“I mean… yeah.” MJ gazes into Peter’s eyes. Her hand is moving up his bicep, and he can’t tell if she knew or not. “Unless, do you want it to be something else? Do you want it to be because,” her hand was now at the back of his neck, “I’m so unbelievably attracted to you I just couldn’t keep it in anymore?”
Peter placed his hand on her waist, and the other one pushed the hair out of her face. “No, of course not.” He smirked, and she laughed about what she just said.
“Because I’m not. I think you’re unequivocally disgusting.” Peter’s fingers played with the hemline of her t-shirt.
“I think you’re annoying. Who uses the word unequivocally at a party?”
“Screw off, loser.”
“Gladly.”
Longingly, they look at each other. Peter hadn’t noticed how close they had gotten until that moment, when he found his hands underneath her shirt at the waist and Michelle just inches away. Her hot breath, although smelling like tequila, was driving Peter crazy in the best way possible. This time, MJ crashed her lips against his first.
___
michelle
Fifteen minutes later, Peter sits next to Ned at the lunch table. He’s eerily quiet, even when Ned and Michelle push him to say something. Eventually they stop asking. Peter plays with his food instead of eating it, and Michelle assumes that Gwen cut him loose. “She asked to meet up with me after school,” Peter says out of the blue.
“Seriously?” Michelle sounds a bit harsh, but come on. He looks like a sad puppy, not someone who was most likely going to reunite with his girlfriend. “It’s just… I really thought I was sending you to your death.”
“It’s okay, MJ. I was shocked too. I went over there expecting her to chew me out or something and instead she said that she supports it and wants to talk more about it after school.” Peter doesn’t sound in awe of Gwen’s generosity. He sounds a little pissed off, even though she’s been helping him with this exact thing for the past two weeks.
“And you said yes?” She tries to play her question off as nonchalant as possible. She stuffs a few fries in her mouth so it doesn’t sound bitchy, and of course it didn’t work. Peter looks at her like she’s speaking Latin. “Did you say yes, Peter?”
“Oh! I mean, yeah, of course I did.”
“I wasn’t sure. You sounded depressed.”
“I’m not upset about it--”
“Tell your voice that.”
“If I didn’t want to talk to her, I wouldn’t. But I do. Okay? I want to.” It feels like a dagger in her stomach. Peter’s staring intently at her, ready to fight (verbally of course,) and Michelle has a million things lined up. She just can’t seem to get the courage to say any of them.
“Hey, Peter?” she says, and then raises her middle finger to his face. He goes red and opens his mouth to yell, but Ned cuts him off.
“Does anyone want to talk about Mr. Harrington’s new haircut? It’s pretty wild, huh? Teachers shouldn’t shave just the sides of their head. It distracts me during Decathlon.” He fights for things to talk about, because the past few days have been troublesome for the three of them. Ned is always in the middle of their bickering. Michelle feels bad about it, however when she woke up in Peter’s arms that morning she decided that it is finally time to get over him. No more pinning, no more jealousy. She is done with it.
It hasn’t been going very well.
Whatever. It was never going to happen overnight, and Peter looking at her like he is right now really doesn’t help. Baby steps, Michelle. Tonight: don’t text Peter.
She can do that.
___
“MJ! Wait up!” She’s almost out of the building before she hears Peter voice booming through the hallway. “Do you need transportation?” He pulls up his sleeve slightly to reveal his web shooters.
“No, Peter. I know how to take the subway.” Michelle pushes throw the door, trying her best not to look at Peter. And even though she isn’t, in the corner of her eye she can see his curly hair bouncing with every step they take. He really needs a haircut, but she also thinks that’d suck if he got one. She likes his curls.
“It’s faster when you get on my back, though. I know we haven’t done it in a while, but I’m sure I can still lift you.” She stops to death stare at him, continues walking, and then his stammering gets worse. “Shit, that’s not what I meant. You aren’t fat. In fact, you’re really skinny. In a good way. Like, not “have my hamburger” skinny, just-- Anyways, I’m really strong, so even if you did get heavier, it’s not like I’d notice.” Peter takes a deep breath in to continue talking.
“Peter!” she yells before he can say anything else. “It’s fine. I am perfectly okay with my body, and thanks for your concern, but I’m going to take the subway like I have for the past few days.” Don’t follow me, don’t follow me, she hopes.
“That’s totally chill. I mean that’s awesome. Do you want to show me that Spider-Man shop on 111th sometime soon? Because I think those clips are something Aunt May would really dig.” Peter lightly pokes the side of Michelle’s head and she swats his hand away.
“Use Google,” Michelle coldly says. Peter notices that something’s off.
“Did I do something to you? Besides that back there when I kinda called you fat, of course.” They’re now walking across the football field, and Peter is going completely out of the way just so he can talk to her.
“Nope.” Michelle pops the ‘p.’
“Are you sure? Because you seem a little… Uh… Closed off, I guess?” She doesn’t answer, so he gently grabs her wrist so she’ll pay attention to him. “Michelle, what happened? Talk to me.”
She spots Gwen rushing over to them from across the field. Michelle points over Peter’s shoulder and says, “Your girlfriend is over there. Leave me alone and talk to her, Peter. You should have priorities.”
“Michelle!” he shouts after her, mad and slightly concerned.
She gives him a stiff wave without turning back to look at him. Michelle wipes her eyes and continues walking away from Peter. Why does she have to be a bitch all the time? If she was just nice to him, maybe he wouldn’t have blown up her phone for the entire night, and subsequently, Gwen wouldn’t have either.
PETER: i’m sorry for whatever i did
PETER: mj you’re starting to worry me
PETER: fine, if you’re going to ignore me, i’m just going to say it. jane austen was a terrible writer.
PETER: fuck i can’t do it. she was amazing.
PETER: please text me back. i’m about to suit up and head over there
Gwen didn’t exactly ‘blow her phone up.’ She sent maybe three texts in a row once, telling Michelle that Peter’s worried and it’s annoying her.
Michelle couldn’t text back, anyways. Her parents argued all throughout dinner, and because they did, it took three hours. Three full hours of Michelle’s mother calling her dad the most worthless man in America. Three full hours of Michelle’s father saying that Michelle is a daughter of a whore and he’s not even sure she’s his daughter. And when she chimes in to say something, something as small as pass the salt or something as big as “please shut up,” her mom would snap at her.
Her mom got pregnant when she was seventeen, and although she wasn’t ready to be a mother at all, Michelle’s dad offered to marry her if she kept the baby. Seventeen years later, filled with arguments and belittling their daughter, their family is dysfunctional and on the brim of divorce. Michelle just wishes they would do it already.
When her mom found out Michelle was having sex, the first thing she did was tell her husband. He went ballistic. Told Michelle that if she made the same mistake they did, he was kicking her out of the house. Said, “Of course she’s a slut, just like her mother,” loud enough for her eavesdropping mom to ear. And overall, he just kept saying ‘mistake’ a million times over. She was a mistake. That’s all she heard from him.
Tonight, he didn’t go that far. He ignored her until the very end of dinner when he stopped her from getting out of her chair. “Michelle, we have to talk to you about something. So, your eighteenth birthday is coming up soon,” whatever thoughts in Michelle’s head are too good to be true, and she knows she’s setting herself up for disappointment when she thinks about getting a car. “And your mother and I have decided that you have to keep your grades up if you want to stay here.”
“Excuse me?” is all that comes out, but she wants to yell “Are you fucking crazy?”
“Don’t talk to your father like that, Michelle. We won’t have a disappointment for a daughter, especially if you want to go to Stanford.” She doesn’t want to go to Stanford, and she’s told them that countless time.
“If you continue getting A’s, then we should have no problem.” Her father pinches her cheek, but Michelle is in too much shock to even register it. They’ll kick her out if she gets a B? What. The. Fuck. “Now, get dad a beer, would you?”
Peter wasn’t kidding when he said he was coming over, because when she comes back to her room after dinner, he’s lying on her bed in his suit. At first she doesn’t notice. Michelle slams the door in frustration and feels a few tears roll down her face. What kind of parents--
“What’s wrong, Michelle?” a concerned voice says behind her, and she turns around and hits the person in the nose.
“Peter Benjamin Parker, what the fuck is wrong with you? You can’t sneak into teenage girls’ rooms like this,” Michelle yell-whispers so she doesn’t alarm her parents.
His nose is bleeding profusely. “Well I’m sorry if I was concerned for my friend! Can you stop punching my face, please? This is like the third time and it’s starting to bother me.”
“You only get hit when you sneak into my fucking room. Maybe stop doing that? I think you should be able to not do that.” How is it possible that she loves this boy? He’s an idiot. And even though Michelle is mad, she grabs tissues from her desk and shoves it into Peter’s hand. “Take these.”
“Thanks, M. I’ll try not to do this again, but in my defense I have been here for thirty minutes and I did text you about it. Maybe if you responded to my text about Jane Austen, I wouldn’t be here, but when you didn’t my Spidey senses were going off all over the place.” Peter makes mini explosions with one hand trying to the work for two.
“Your Spidey senses? Peter, that’s one of the lamest things you’ve ever said,” Michelle giggles, still whispering as she sits down on her bed. Peter walks forward to sit next to her but she kicks him back, “No way. Not with that nose.”
“Michelle?” her mom’s voice shouts from the other side of the door. “Is there a boy in your room?”
“No! I’m watching TV. Good night, mom.”
After a minute, Peter puts the bloddy tissue in the garbage and says, “You have a mom?”
Idiot, she thinks, but is smiling when she thinks it. “No, I’m an orphan.” Michelle forgets who she’s talking to, an actual orphan, and she quickly apologizes. “Sorry, Peter. Bad joke. Yes, I have a mother.”
“I just meant that you’ve never talked about her before and--”
“Because I don’t like to talk about my family.”
“I get that, but you’ve never even mentioned her name.”
“Why are you here, Peter?” she sternly changes the subject, and Peter backs into the wall out of surprise.
“Because I care about you, and you were really abrasive after school today.” Michelle is prepared to argue with him, but he says something that knocks her off her axis. “I feel guilty, MJ. About last year. About us.”
She kicks him out before he can say anything else.