Chapter Text
They're two weeks into Junior Year. Things have been smooth-ish. Flash has already thrown a celebratory party for everyone that passed—which: important, because Peter's after some guys from that party—Ned’s had two existential crises, MJ's proving to be a way tougher leader than Liz, Betty Brant is single again, and, well.
Things are normal.
Until, at eleven-forty am on a seemingly harmless Tuesday, they're suddenly not.
And not necessarily in a bad way, just…a very weird way.
Peter has been zoning in and out of the calc lecture for past twenty minutes, his eyes fixed on the “How Spider-Man Swings: A Theory” video on YouTube that he has been playing at fifty percent speed on his laptop. He needs to work on keeping his forearms closer to his body for agility, according to the guy who made the video.
Huh. He's gonna work on it, because it's actually pretty good criticism.
But, also, more importantly, someone obviously installed a hidden camera on their rooftop to capture this video, which should ring warning bells in Peter's head. Keyword: should. He's actually kinda more flattered than warned.
Is he stupid?
Oh, definitely.
He's probably the stupidest Avenger. Not that he is an Avenger, because he has said no to Mister Stark, but—
“Mister Parker!”
“Shit, shit.” Peter scrambles to shut his laptop with a discreetly placed elbow over it, and rushes to straighten from his recline. “Sir?” he mumbles, then, wide eyes scanning the board for…
Oh, shit, is that a graph? He's so dead…
“Could you help the class determine the domain for the function represented by this graph?”
They're on freaking graphs? His weakest point in all of math. When did they get to graphs? They were just introduced to the sketchy concept of functions and ranges and domains, like, yesterday!
His eyes shift to a side, landing on Ned who's hiding his face behind a palm—because he knows Peter's horrible at graphs—then on Betty Brant who's hand is high up—because, of course she knows all the answers—and then on—
“Um, all x less than or equal to three by two,” he reads out, quickly, very easily shifting his eyes away from MJ's held out hand, because, well, he's got super good Spidey-reflexes and can be stealthy if he's careful.
The teachers eyebrows slant, mouth pulls to a side, but Peter knows he's safe, because MJ told him the answer and MJ is, like, never wrong.
Unless she wants his ass to be dragged out of class, because he missed AcaDec practice yesterday, and at least four more times in the past two weeks, and probably will, today, too—he’s been trying to track down a group of people he suspects are responsible for circulating drugs in Flash's party, and—
Maybe MJ gave him the wrong answer, and dang it, he's profoundly screwed. Why did he even trust her? They aren't even really friends!
Until:
“Just because you're good at graphical representation of functions, it doesn't give you the liberty to fawn over Spider-Man in my class, Mister Parker.”
Peter deflates. Ducks his head. Looks at Ned to find him looking between him and MJ with eyes as big as saucers. He gives a conspicuous shrug when Ned raises his eyebrows in his direction.
Something very suspicious crosses Ned's face, and Peter nods. Because, same.
He squints at MJ, willing her to sense that he is looking. But if she does anything excellently—other than all the academic brilliance she eludes, that is—it is ignoring people.
Peter represses a groan.
“Spider-Man fanboy, Penis Parker? Not friends anymore?”
Flash snickers from a few seat behind him.
Peter wishes his middle finger had the kind of self-confidence MJ's does, but, wishful thinking, ha, so—
Ugh.
What's Flash Thompson doing in AP calculus, anyway?
“Mister Parker.”
Peter fights back another groan. Stands up, this time. “Mister Harrington?”
The man enters the class, an apologetic glance tossed at the teacher. “You've missed five practices in two weeks, Peter. I'd like to see you after school, today. If you're not planning to miss today's practice, too.”
Peter purses his lips. Fudge. “Okay, Mist—”
“I'll take that one! I mean, can I see you, instead, Mister Harrington? There's something I wanna discuss.”
Half of the class gasps. The other half, including the math teacher, gapes. Peter does both.
In his peripheral vision, Ned does both, too.
Mister Harrington nods. “Okay, Michelle. But you talk to Parker, then.”
MJ gives him a peace sign, and Mister Harrington leaves with another apologetic look thrown towards the math teacher.
Peter falls into his seat. A paper ball lands in his lap.
did you bribe her or something?
He shakes his head at Ned. Ned slumps on his table.
Another paper ball lands in his lap.
dude she's going to kill you in your sleep tonight
Peter nods at Ned, receives a thumbs up back.
He shuts his laptop for real, this time, droning the teacher's voice out, and settles for drilling his gaze at the back of MJ's head.
“Dude.” Ned’s whisper expresses the exact amount of disbelief that has been flowing through Peter when they fall in stride after the end of the class.
Peter is still staring at the back of MJ's head.
“Dude.”
Peter nods, because, exactly.
“How—”
“Dunno.”
“Why—”
“Nope.”
“Has she ever—”
“Never.”
“Something is—”
“Weird.”
“Extremely.”
“AcaDec regionals. Next Friday, losers.”
Peter jumps. Tries to play it cool when Ned gives him a Spidey-senses bro, don't overdo it look, but. He is not overdoing it. MJ is just—
Good at many things. Sneaking up, too, apparently.
She leans over the lunch table, palms flat atop the surface, stray curls hanging over her shadowed face, eyes squinted at him. He is cornered. In a room full of people, MJ has cornered him.
Peter's brain kinda short-circuits, and he isn't sure if it's all fear.
Uh.
What?
“Y-yeah,” Peter fumbles, putting his half-eaten PB&J back into Ned's lunchbox. “I'll be there.”
“I’ll make sure he is.”
Ned's frowning at him, this time with a it's MJ, dude, and this is, like, a regular day in the life of being in the AcaDec team under MJ's captaincy look, and, right. Peter's aware of all that. But—
But—
Something's different.
“Thank you, Leeds.” She gives a tiny salute to Ned, and—
Why does Ned not find this weird?
Peter stares at her with wide eyes. She looks pretty, up-close, he realises, and his eyes widen further, because, whoa, this is MJ, she would—
Why is he thinking about things that'll get him punched?
She looks at him down her nose. “You flaking today, too, Parker?”
And, ouch. But, oh shit. “I, uh, you see… the—the Stark internship? I am, you know, needed, you know—”
MJ drags the chair opposite them—she's never sat so close to their seats—and leans forward. Her eyes turn to slits. “Thought you'd lost it?”
Peter's breathing sort of speeds up, sweat breaking on his forehead, and, dear God, what the hell is wrong with him, Ned'll have a field day if he gets anything on his phone, and he'd be right, because, what the hell is wrong with him, it's just MJ!
Maybe he's just scared.
“I—I—I did, yes, but I got it again. You know. Back. I got it back. Mister—Mister Stark gave it to me. I mean, he gave it back to me. Again.” His smile is a grimace at best, and Ned's started to make choking noises.
MJ leans back and he can breathe again. “Heh. Look at that. Lucky you. But also.” She purses her lips, raises a finger, and leans in, again. “I saved your ass, today, so that you'd show up for practices, Parker! Consider this your first and last warning! You disappear on me again, you die!”
Peter's eyes widen, and this time it's definitely unadulterated fear.
“I'm not as tolerant or innocent or ignorant as Liz.”
Peter's gasping for breath when she gets up and, like vanishes out of the lunchroom. Ned's making some choking noises, again.
“Dude—”
“I know.”
“—that was—”
“I know.”
“—very weird!”
“I know, Ned!”
They breathe heavily for a couple of seconds. Ned clears his throat. Peter wipes his forehead.
“So… you gonna show up for practice?”
Peter silently picks up his PB&J. “I gotta, if I wanna live.”
“Centres of mass, everyone,” MJ announces as soon as she takes the podium.
Peter sits up straighter. Physics. Yay!
“Semi circular ring?”
“Two times radius by pie.” Peter grins at her when MJ's surprised gaze meets his.
“Semi circular half disc ring?” Her eyes hold a challenge.
Peter almost smirks. Hah. “Four times the radius by three times pie.”
“Hemispherical shell—”
“Radius by two—”
“Uniform solid hemisphere—”
“Three times the radius by eight—”
“Hollow cone—”
“The height divided by three—”
“Solid cone—”
“The height divided by four—”
“There are others in here, too,” Ned peeps from his seat diagonally across Peter, “you guys?”
Peters eyes widen. Ned has a very weird look on his face, and he's looking between him and MJ.
He knows that look. He's seen that look, before, when Ned would tell him to tone it down with—
Shit, shit, shit.
Peter can feel his cheeks heating up. Oh, no. Why, why, Ned?
“Right. I was about to say.” MJ’s cheeks are flaming pink, and she's never looked cuter.
She really will kill you in your sleep if she ever heard that, he mentally warns himself.
But. She does look adora—
Okay, enough!
He looks down at his hands. Doesn’t say another word for the entirety of the hour they practise for, switching between silently laughing when Flash messes up, and rolling his eyes when Ned releases lovelorn sighs in Betty Brant’s general direction.
“Alright, nerds. You know the drill. Same time, same place, do not abstain till the next Friday. Reports and reviews.” MJ clears her throat, and Peter looks up. She’s looking at their reports, but Peter’s tingling senses tell him she wasn’t, a second ago. “Flash—study Physics, for once. Betty—great, as always, just brush up your quadratic equations. Leeds—great progress, good job. Murphy—clean your ears every once in a while. Abe—good job on the periodic table. Sally—meet me tomorrow morning, we’ll review Shakespeare. Parker—pay attention to your graphs for functions. Okay, that’s all, everyone, see you tomorrow.”
Everyone kinda pauses. Peter almost doesn’t breathe for a moment.
Graphs for functions have nothing to do with AcaDec! And eveything to do with his personal performance in AP calc.
He sends a panicked look to Ned. Ned nods, vigorously, and, oh, God, this is a whole new level of confusion and weirdness.
What is MJ doing?