Chapter Text
“So, Peter,” May starts, leaning over the table in the booth she and Peter had chosen, in a quiet corner of the diner. “How’s school going? I feel like we haven’t really talked in forever.”
“I know, I’m sorry about that,” Peter replies, wringing his hands under the table. “I’ve just been so swamped, you know?”
May nods sympathetically. “I get it. I’m glad we could do this, though. I can tell we both needed the break.”
Peter smiles. “Yeah.”
His… extracurriculars had gotten in the way of his interactions with his aunt recently. They're at a weird place right now, where she knows he’s Spider-Man, but makes a point of ignoring the news where the red and blue spandex is concerned. That’s probably for the best.
“You guys ready to order?”
A familiar voice reaches his ears from in front of his table. When he looks up at the girl hiding her face behind her little waitress’s notepad, his throat goes dry.
“MJ?”
Her eyes snap to his. Her shoulders tense like a cat who’s poised to attack, trying to make itself look bigger in the eyes of an attacker.
“What are you doing here, Parker?” She eyes him critically and glances at his aunt.
Peter scoffs. “I’m having lunch with my aunt. What are you doing here?”
She rolls her eyes, as she likes to do whenever he speaks. He pretends it doesn’t bother him.
“I work here,” she says, gesturing to her notepad and her black waitress’s apron, under which she wears a plain white t-shirt and black skinny jeans. A word pops into his head.
Cute.
What? No, it’s MJ, no way he could think of her as cute. He still likes Liz. Still not over her just yet. Wait, that was rude, of course MJ could be cute-- no, wait--
“You just gonna sit there gawking or you gonna tell me what you want to eat?”
Peter coughs, his face suddenly feeling very warm. “Um, sorry, uh-- Could I get a, um, stack of pancakes with syrup and butter?” God, he is a stuttering mess. He's usually not like this outside of school, but when he sees someone who he usually only sees in school, outside of school, his brain gets all confused and he's back to being good old awkward Peter.
“Syrup’s right there,” she says, pointing with a pen to a metal can with a spout that’s grouped in with other condiments. Wow. Making him look like an idiot, even beyond decathlon practice. “And for you, miss?”
Peter scoffs indignantly. Of course, May is the one who MJ treats with actual human decency. Everybody likes May.
“Oh, I’m Peter’s aunt May, sweetie,” his aunt greets warmly, placing a hand on her chest. “It’s so nice to finally meet one of Peter’s friends. You’re Michelle, right?”
MJ pauses, her glare softening. May tends to have that effect on people. “That’s me, Miss Parker,” she confirms. “You can call me MJ.”
Okay, now Peter has to interject. “What? You guys barely just met and she already gets the MJ privilege?”
Her eyes return to his. There's a hint of a proud smirk on her lips. “She’s clearly the better Parker, dork,” she teases. “I didn’t catch what your order was,” she continues, turning back to his aunt.
“I’ll just get the house salad, sweetie. And call me May.”
“All right,” MJ says, finishing the order on her notepad and tucking it into the little pocket in the front. “I'll be back with your order in a jiff.” Her fingers dance on the table for a moment and then she’s off to the kitchen to tell the cooks.
In the wake of his silent embarrassment, Peter is unable to form words. May is looking at him like he's from Mars.
“I didn’t know you were over Liz,” she says curiously.
“What?”
“Oh, come on, Petey, you wouldn’t stop staring at her." May grins widely now. “But I like her. So, if you decide to make a move, you have my blessing.”
Peter laughs, half-nervous and half-shocked. “Okay, first of all, I don’t like her like that, like, at all. Second of all, technically wouldn’t I need her parent’s blessing? And third, I don’t like her!”
He throws his hands up in frustration. May is laughing heartily.
“I don’t,” he insists over her guffaws.
“Sure, Pete,” she says, tone unbelieving. She’s enjoying this too much. Peter scowls. “Jeez, okay! I guess I can just see what you can't.”
“Wha-- I--" He splutters, and she has to cover her mouth from laughing out loud now. He feels decently embarrassed, and he can feel the heat all over his face and neck, and he hates it. “Whatever,” he says, shrugging. “I know I don’t like her. You’re just… crazy.”
Thankfully, they’re able to leave that topic of conversation in the dust as they fall back into easy chatter for the next few minutes until Peter hears footsteps coming towards their table. He knows it’s MJ, and he’s already dreading her inevitable embarrassment of him. Again.
She makes it to their table, balancing a platter with Peter’s pancakes and May’s salad on one splayed-out hand. Her fingers are slender and long, dexterous, like those of an artist. He hasn’t seen many of her sketches -- well, really, he’s only seen one, and it was from that one time she drew him in detention. He remembers the way she had captured his despaired expression and drawn his thought bubble to be nothing but a depressing gray.
“Pancakes for the nerd,” she says, her tone sarcastic, “and a salad for his lovely aunt.”
May gasps. “You flatter me, MJ.”
The girl almost beams. He’s never seen her smile all the way, and that’s the closest he’s ever seen her get to one. A crooked tooth peeks out from under her upper lip, and there’s that word again. Cute. Her smile is cute. He wants to see it more.
No, he doesn’t. He doesn’t like her.
“Enjoy,” MJ says simply, flipping a little bit of hair over her shoulder, and she walks away from the table. The second she leaves, Peter can feel May staring lasers into the side of his head as he watches her go.
“What?” He asks, exasperated, when he turns back to her, because she’s smiling at him like that again, like she knows more about him than he knows about himself.
“Nothing,” she says playfully, choosing that moment to start digging into her salad.
“I don’t like her, May, if that’s what you meant by ‘nothing,’” he says, but he also stabs his fork into the first pancake and grabs the syrup, drowning them in the stuff, just the way he likes it.
He slowly tears through his pancakes and waits for May to finish her salad. Eventually, she says she can’t eat anymore. When she notices MJ walking through the aisles of tables, she calls out to her to ask for the check.
Peter watches her nod and she saunters over to the counter. She looks like she’s really in her element, he thinks.
How the hell would he know that? He’s had one interaction with her so far at this job, and she’s been nothing but rude. Yelp: one star.
But there’s something about the way she walks around the diner, like she owns the place. And the way she toyed with her bottom lip between her teeth while she took down his and May’s order, and oh yeah, that one crooked tooth that poked out when she smiled like that--
He. Doesn’t. Like. Her. He likes Liz. Is he even allowed to like Liz if she doesn’t live in the city anymore? Is there a rule against that? No, of course not. That’s stupid. He likes Liz.
MJ brings the check over faster than he can jump off this train of thought. He has to lock his head in place with his hand in order to not look at her. May notices but says nothing, and slips a few bills into the little folder-thing. MJ smiles and takes it, walking away once again. Peter lets go of his own jaw and exhales deeply.
“‘I don’t like her like that, at all,’” May mimics him from earlier, emphasizing the right words. Peter groans. He will never win.