Nope. She Hates Me.
Nope. She Hates Me.
Me: Yo, MJ jus left
Ned: How'd it go???
Me: It actually went pretty great. She
and may really hit it off
Ned: awesum. But how'd she behave around u?
Was she still weird??
Me: yea :(
Ned: Wut happened
Me: It started out fine but then
she kept tryin 2 touch me and shit.
Ned: ????
Me: like tryin 2 grab my hand and stuff.
And she even smiled at me
Ned: smiled? Like a legit smile and
not like she was makin fun of you
Me: yep. An get this. She even hugged me
b4 left
Me: *she left
Ned: WHAT
THE
FUCK
!!!!!
Me: I KNOW RIGHT!
Me: I didn't even kno how to react like WTF
Ned: R u sure she wasn't tryin to kill u?
Me: Ned come on man. MJ is different, but not
crazy. Anyway im really confused
Ned: about wat?
Me: Promise u wont say a word to anyone
Ned: I promise dude. Now wat is it??
Me: ok. I think I like her
Ned: ...what?
Me: yea. I mean, I don't kno 4 sure, but I think
I might
Ned: dude. This is MJ we're talkin about
im pretty sure she doesnt even like guys
Ned: like, she isnt even a lesbian, but like,
asexual or somethin
Me: aromantic
Ned: watever
Ned: my point is that ur setting urself up
for dissappointment
Ned: she might not even like you back
Me: u got my earlier texts right? She was all over
me practically
Me: an she was reading an article on touching herself
Ned:...
Ned: you mean like... you know
Me: No, ned! IDK wat it was about, but theres no reason she
would be reading that at someone else's house!
Ned: ok ok sorry.
Me: IDK im going to sleep on this an see how I feel in the am
Me: night, dude
Ned: night, bro
Ned: an dont worry. If you still like
mj in the morning, Ill perform an exorcism
lol
Me: shut up lol
The next morning, Peter's phone vanished into thin air. He searched through his bookbag, his locker, and even retraced his steps when he realized it was gone. He couldn't find it anywhere. He texted May on Ned's phone to see if he left it at home. She said she saw him with it when he left this morning.
A cold sense of dread washed over him. “What if I left it on the subway?”
“Aw man. It's probably long gone by now,” Ned realized.
“No,” he groaned. “This can't be happening.” This was an absolute nightmare. His phone was his only means of reliable communication. What was worse, without it, he wouldn't be able to go out as Spider-Man, since he wouldn't have been able to keep in contact with May.
“Maybe you just dropped it somewhere. It'll probably turn up soon.”
He look at Ned and just sighed. “I hope so.”
Peter tried to focus on school for the rest of the day. One thing he noticed immediately was that MJ was really pissed off about something. Ever since she left to use the restroom in Mrs. Toller's class, she seemed really angry. She also couldn't look at him without looking away a few seconds later. It was weird.
“Dude, what's MJ deal?” he whispered to Ned at lunch.
He could only shrug. “Something to do with last night maybe?”
Her embarrassing herself by hugging him in front of May would probably leave her pretty pissed at herself, but she was fine earlier in the day. It wasn't until she got back from the bathroom that her sour mood started. He wanted to ask her, but didn't want her to bite his head off. They had made a lot of progress as far as their friendship went and he didn't want anything to set him back.
After the last school bell for the day sounded, Peter and Ned were on their way to the subway. He still hadn't found his phone, no matter where he looked. It was like it just dropped off the face of the planet.
“Here's your phone.”
Peter turned to find MJ standing there, holding his long-lost phone out to him. He could have kissed her. He thought it was gone forever, but there she was, handing it to. “Holy shit, thanks, MJ!” he chirped. He pressed the button on the side to turn the screen on, only for it to not work. “What happened to it?”
“I,” she started before sighing. “I found it in the toilet.”
Wait, what? How? Why would someone drop it in the toilet? Like, who could be that big of a dick? “Come on,” he groaned. “This is my only phone. May's gonna freak.” More like May wasn't going to let him go out without a way to keep in contact with her. It wasn't like Spider-Man had time or the money to use a payphone every two hours. And he was pretty sure payphones were nonexistent nowadays.
“Don't you have insurance, dude?” Ned asked.
“Yeah, but that's not the point,” he answered pointedly. Ned nodded with understanding.
“Yeah, well, that sucks,” MJ stated bluntly. “See you tomo—”
Before she could finish, Cindy Moon, one of their classmates, came running up. “Hey, Michelle. Did you get your phone out of the toilet?”
That was weird. MJ dropped her phone in the toilet, too. That was Peter's initial thought/hope when Cindy approached them and started talking to MJ. Given how quickly she turned around to confront her, that wasn't it at all. “Wait, what?” he whispered.
The cold realization slowly dawned on him. There was no way. She couldn't have. She just wouldn't do something like this to him. Could she? She could, but would she? No. MJ wasn't that kind of person. That was the kind of shit Flash would do for shits and giggles, but not MJ. She wouldn't steal his phone and drop it in the toilet for no apparent reason.
Just the thought of it had his blood boiling. “MJ.”
She slowly turned around. Her face was blank, not betraying any emotions, as usual. “Yeah?”
Peter tried his best to stay calm. This was not the person he wanted to be angry with, especially after what he admitted to Ned the night before. “Did you take my phone?”
She didn't respond.
That was as good as an admittance of guilt.
His mind was racing. How could she do something like this? Why? What could have possibly possessed her to take his stuff? Did she want to find out if he was really Spider-Man that badly? All she had to do was ask. Sure, he wouldn't have told her, but that was still a better route to go than petty theft and destroying his shit.
He tried to keep calm, but failed to keep the anger from leaking across his features. He turned and walked away before he could possibly have said something he would immediately regret.
“Maybe you were right, Ned,” he said morosely when they were on the subway headed for Queens. “Maybe she does hate me.”
Ned sighed heavily and leaned his head back against the cold metal wall of the subway car. “Yeah. But, at least now you know. You can move on now. Concentrate on other things.”
He sighed. He didn't want to move on. Peter really thought that there was something there between them at dinner the night before. He spent all night thinking about it all the way up until homeroom. May mentioned offhand that MJ was being very friendly with him. That pretty much cinched it. She liked him, but she didn't know how to tell him.
Or, at least that was what he thought. This... not even the most socially inept person would try something like this. “I should be really pissed off,” he murmured. “But, I'm not.” He was more hurt than anything else. Hurt that she would take his phone. Hurt that she would try to lie to his face about what happened. Hurt that she apparently got off on sending him mixed message after mixed message.
She liked him one second, then hated him the next. One minute she was punching him in the chest, the next she was hugging him. Up, down. Hot, cold. Left, right. That was all MJ was. From one extreme to the other. Every single time, it was something different. Any other girl, he would have thrown his hands up and given up on her. Not Michelle. He didn't want it to end this way, even if she was determined to make sure it did.
When he got in, he told May everything. She was, unsurprisingly, disappointed, but not angry. She offered to buy him a new phone, but he declined. He did, however, ask to borrow her phone for a bit.
He went up to his room and closed his door behind him. Mr. Stark gave him his personal cell number in case he ever got into serious trouble. This, he felt, qualified as serious, so he went to dial the number. Strangely, the number was already programmed into May's phone. Oh, god.
It rang twice before Mr. Stark answered. “May, you gotta stop calling. I told you I'm engaged now.”
Peter wanted to throw up, but breathed in deeply to calm himself. “No, it's me, Mr. Stark.”
“Gah, spiderling. Ah, wipe what you heard from your memory. So, how goes the webslinging? Keeping low to the ground like you promised?”
“Yes sir. Helping old ladies across the street, getting kittens out of trees, stopping muggers and purse snatchers. Very low to the ground.”
“Good. So, why are you calling on your aunt's phone?”
“Ah, mine kinda got dropped in a toilet at school today.”
“What, were you looking at porn?”
“NO! I wasn't, I swear. Well, I was hoping I could get a new one.” Before Mr. Stark could answer, Peter added, “I don't want to come across as a freeloader, but I can't afford a new one, and I don't want May to have to spend the money to buy one.”
“Kid, you're fifteen. If freeloading is the worst thing you do, I'll be happy. Alright, I'll mail you a Starkphone. Should be there in a couple days.”
A Starkphone? Peter was just hoping for a basic flip phone, something that would let him keep in touch with May while out crimefighting. But, a Starkphone – the most advanced smartphone on the planet – it was too much. Well, almost too much. “Thank you so much, Mr. Stark!” He could hardly keep the excitement out of his voice.
“Sure thing, kid. So, need anything else?”
He was about to say no when it hit him. He was on the phone with Tony Stark. The man who put the playboy in 'genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist'. If there was anyone who could give him solid advice on girls, it was him. “Actually, I was hoping you could give me some advice.”
“Alright. So, what's up?”
He sighed and took a moment to get his thoughts together. “Well, there's this girl at school that I kinda like, but I'm pretty sure she hates me.”
“And you know this how?”
“Well, she wrote me a note telling me to get out of her school, punched me in the chest for no discernible reason, and stole my phone and dropped it in the toilet.” When he listed it like that, it really did seem like MJ hated him.
Mr. Stark was laughing on the other side.
“How is this funny?”
“Nothing. Sorry. That just reminds me of Widow. Anyway, sounds like you have a crush on a fourth grader.”
“What?!”
“I mean, clearly, this girl has no idea how to handle her emotions. Obviously.”
Was it really that obvious? How could Mr. Stark see it without having even met her, when Peter couldn't and he had known her for years? Maybe that experience was what was clouding his judgment. He had preconceived notions of her behavior based on years of observing her, so if her intentions changed, he wouldn't notice. That kinda made sense, he supposed. “Well, I guess. But, like, she invited herself over to my house for dinner last night, and apparently she was flirting with me all night.”
“Apparently?”
“Well, I can't really tell if she was,” he admitted with a shrug. “I mean, she hugged me before she left. It was, like, super awkward and I didn't really know what to do about it. She's never hugged anyone before that I know of.”
“...She hugged you, and you say you can't tell if she was flirting with you? Wow, you are hopeless, kid.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“No problem. Now, here's what you do. Take a day to get your mind straight, then sit her down and talk with her. Tell her you're confused by her mixed messages, then see how she reacts. If she looks guilty, she likes you. If she looks like somewhat irritated, then she doesn't. Simple as that. If the former happens, tell her you like her and take it from there. Easy.”
Easy, he said. There was little doubt that Peter was going to screw this up somehow, but he had to try. There was something there, and this may have been his only chance to capitalize on it before it was too late. “Okay, I think I can do that. Thanks, Mr. Stark.”
“Any time, kiddo. Alright, I gotta jet. Pep wants to spend a few days in Spain, so... yeah. Tell your aunt hello and to leave my ass alone. Like, seriously.”
“Um, okay, sure. I'll talk to you later, Mr. Stark.”
“See ya, kid.”
Mr. Stark's idea sounded good in theory, but it failed to account for the simple fact that Peter was a major imbecile when it came to this romance crap. Again, there was little doubt that he was going to screw this up somehow.
He spent not the next day, but the next two days getting himself together. Getting over his anguish and confusion was a lot harder than he thought, but he managed it. It helped that he didn't talk to MJ during that time.
He couldn't talk to her. He didn't even look at her, because looking at her beautiful face marred by guilt and sadness killed him. He felt so guilty for making her think he was angry with her, but all that would be cleared up in due time.
She came to his apartment twice to try and talk with him. Each time, he told May not to let her in. He wasn't ready yet. He didn't want to say or do something to hurt her even more than he already had.
There it was. That was how Peter screwed it all up. When he was finally ready to talk to MJ, she had already closed herself off.
He was too late.