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The first time Michelle Jones sees Peter Parker, it’s confusing, to say the least. I mean, what kind of guy comes into a cafe, gives his full name to the person at the till, and then give his order as if he had changed his mind mid-sentence?
Weirdo.
And yet…
She couldn’t explain it, but something about him felt so… familiar. Like words that are on the tip of your tongue but just out of your memory’s reach. Or a song playing in a supermarket that sounds so, so familiar, but for the life of you, you can’t recall the name, but it gets stuck in your mind for hours after, that one verse looping over and over in your mind until you are driven insane trying to figure out its name.
Peter Parker was turning into one of those songs.
MJ had gone home after her shift that day, trying to wrap her head around the feeling that lingered even as the chimes signifying his exit from the shop had stopped. Something about that conversation just felt… off. From the way he had introduced himself with his full name, that worn piece of paper in his hand as if he were about to read out something to her, to the way he had managed to finish her catchphrase as if it were second nature to him. Not to mention, how as he asked her about MIT, she actually told him how she felt excited about it, instead of rolling her eyes and just displaying disinterest. That confused her the most, the willingness to keep talking to this complete stranger, to reveal how she really felt, to let that cold and disinterested exterior drop for just a bit.
But she didn’t even know him.
MJ lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling as she replayed that encounter over and over in her mind, expanding all the small details. The way he had hesitated before coming into the shop, how he looked at her in a way that had made her stomach fill with some weird, unexplained feeling (no she did not like it, thank you very much), how he kept staring over at Ned, like there was something on the tip of his tongue, ready to spill out. But what her mind stuck on were his eyes. He seemed around their age, even if she had absolutely no recollection of who he was. But his eyes were so sad, like they had seen far too much. He seemed tired and…
Alone.
Who was he?
She groaned, rolling over, trying to push the thoughts away. Who cared? He was just some awkward guy who seemed nice enough to have a conversation with, and just cute enough to dream about for a second before moving on with your day. The fact that he knew what she was going to say was a coincidence, and her hidden excitement for MIT was the reason she shared it with him. Nothing more.
She didn’t know Peter Parker.
***
The second time Michelle Jones sees Peter Parker, it’s at work again, around two weeks later. It’s one of the few days Ned hasn’t come down to keep her company as she works the till, needing to stay back for Robotics club. Something about how there was suddenly an entire person’s worth of work that couldn’t be accounted for in the group, and everyone needed to stay back to make up for it. He had shrugged, eyes squinted while he explained, and she immediately knew what was happening. She recognised that expression from the mirror in her room, every time she put on the broken black dahlia necklace that hung around her neck, tucked under her uniform. That feeling of something missing, like an unnamed ghost that clung to their lives and memories. But for the life of her, MJ couldn’t figure out what it meant. All she knew is that everything felt off. It was good, things couldn’t be going better, but it wasn’t right.
She had been scrubbing away at the countertop where someone had dropped sickly sweet coffee, inwardly cursing, when the bell above the door chimed. She lifted her head to see brown hair, and a face that she didn’t like to admit had somewhat lingered since that weird first encounter.
“Hi, how can I help you, Peter Parker?” she said, walking up to the register.
“Wait, wha- what? How- how do you know my name?” he started, panicked eyes meeting hers only briefly as is seemed like his brain raced at a mile a minute. Like the very mention of his name from another person was enough to cause a spiral. Weirder and weirder .
“Not everyday someone comes and introduces themselves with their full name just to order a coffee,” she just sighed, flashing a small smile as she saw him breathe out, but not looking relieved in the slightest. He almost looked hurt.
“Right,” he whispered, before asking for a coffee, just like last time. His eyes were downcast, as if purposely staring at the floor. MJ peered at him as the coffee machine whirred, once again finding the frayed edges of that paper he had been carrying the first time he walked in.
She wasn’t trying to stare, she wouldn’t be caught dead ogling a customer. But something just kept MJ looking at him, this strange person with questions surrounding him. Exhaustion hung from his frame like the black-and-blue flannel that was definitely too big for him. Even when he reached out to put the money on the counter (always tipping way more than needed), his hands shook ever so slightly. If she let herself feel any more for him, she would’ve felt sorry.
But she wouldn’t do that. Because she didn’t know him.
However, as she set the coffee down, she couldn’t quite shake it. The need to make him, this awkward, kinda cute in a nerdy way, guy, smile. Something in her chest had a feeling that his smile would be worth embarrassing herself over.
So she turned around, and grabbed a doughnut off the shelf, placing it before him.
He looked at it, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, then melting into worry. “Oh, I didn’t order that, I don’t know if I can-”
“On the house,” she cut in, drawing a shaky breath. Why did it feel like butterflies were trying to eat her alive? “Don’t worry about it.”
That made him look up, finally meeting her eyes. “I don’t,” he sighed, shaking his head slightly, clearly trying to find a way out. “I don’t want to get you in trouble,” he said quietly.
MJ just shrugged, giving him a small, but surprisingly genuine smile. “Like I said, Peter Parker. Don’t worry about it.”
And there it was. He smiled, the first smile she had seen to reach his eyes. Like all the weight and exhaustion he had carried into the shop had fallen away. Maybe it was the first time he had smiled like that in a while. It was definitely the first time that ghost that followed MJ through her memories and days had left her alone. And there was no stopping those damn butterflies now.
Oh, she was in trouble.
“Thank you,” he said softly, with so much sincerity it hurt. He smiled again, before grabbing the cup and the doughnut and leaving the restaurant. When she peeked outside, he was taking a bite out of it, giddily smiling like a little boy playing.
She felt a smile on her lips as she watched him, before her mind caught up with her and shook her out of the daydream. What was she doing?! She didn’t just smile sappily over people, she definitely didn’t do that for random two-time customers, and she absolutely doesn’t give ‘on the house’ doughnuts to random strangers whenever she felt like it. So what was it about Peter Parker that made it feel so normal? And who the hell was he?
She doesn’t even know him!
So why, why does she feel like she wants to?
***
The next couple of times Michelle Jones sees Peter Parker, she would never admit out loud to anyone, not even Ned.
Ever since Spiderman supposedly destroyed the Statue of Liberty in a battle (everything the Daily Bugle put out just made her irrationally angry and protective for some unexplained reason), she had been having strange dreams. They weren’t clear, like watching it play out through fogged-up glass. They were always scenes that felt achingly familiar, like different memories flashing through her subconscious, but she had absolutely no recollection of any of them. And they were always centred around Spiderman.
Sometimes Ned would be there, and both of them would be helping Spiderman, in moments that felt way too detailed to just be imaginations of a dreaming mind fed with the news that was always on at work. The smell of smoke and settling rubble in the air as she ran across London Bridge, the cold metal of the spiked mallet she had apparently grabbed from the Tower while she was hiding from… something. The feeling in her gut as she ran towards someone, panic burning her throat like acid.
The warmth of quiet relief pressed against her palms and her cheek as she hugged Spiderman.
The first time she woke up from this dream, grasping onto the dregs that hadn’t managed to slip away into the sunlight, she was confused, even a bit embarrassed. Who wouldn’t be, after dreaming that they had some kind of special connection to the superhero that swings around the city helping anyone in need? But no matter what she tried, the dreams never stopped, always different scenes, always specific in details but blurry along the edges. And sometimes, Spiderman would have Peter Parker’s face.
Those dreams still caught her off-guard, jolting awake just as his face became clear, a white-hot pain piercing through her skull. They were also the hardest to remember, as if every millisecond she could recall were some kind of fight against the universe. It wasn’t that she was now dreaming about the weird guy that had piqued her attention a few times by being so awkward yet unexplainable (although it was definitely a part of it), but it was the fact that in her dreams, it didn’t feel unnatural at all. It almost felt normal. Nothing was making sense anymore.
She didn’t know him. So why was he on her mind all the time?
***
It was like once Michelle Jones had seen Peter Parker a few times, her eyes tried to find him everywhere, even feeling an ache of disappointment when she couldn’t. It was like unless he came into the shop himself, he couldn’t be found. An air of mystery she would be envious of if she weren’t trying to figure him out.
She had begun to learn a bit more about Peter Parker though, with him coming in every so often to order and coffee and maybe even a doughnut. Sometimes he would leave right away, a fake smile and distant eyes pushing him out the door. But recently, he had taken to simply sitting at one of the corner tables and keeping to himself, either pouring over a GED textbook or typing away at something on his laptop. Awkward, tilted conversations at the till grew into slightly less awkward small talk, which grew into only barely awkward conversations about daily life. He usually asked her about her day and her life, as opposed to saying much about himself. And, surprising herself often, she told him. It was just easy to talk to him, there was no other way to put it.
Everything she found out about Peter Parker though, she didn’t get from asking him. He rarely answered any questions directly, just adding to the ones she had about him. But from the way his clothes hung loosely, along with the growing dark circles and exhaustion that had latched itself onto him, it was reasonable to assume that he was alone. That, and the fact that the very mention of a family of sorts made him crawl into himself for the rest of the time he spent in the shop. He was also studying for the GED, so one would assume he was a high-school dropout, but MJ felt there was more to the story than just that. If only she could ask him about it one day.
But the one thing she still hadn’t managed to get an explanation for was… well, him . Because all these pieces of information, along with how he orders his coffee and what’s his preferred doughnut, were still not enough to answer any question she had.
There were days, where MJ would be ringing up his order, and every instinct in her would scream at her: Who are you? Why does it feel like I know you even though the first time I saw you was when you walked into the shop and introduced yourself with your full name like an idiot? Why are you in my dreams as Spiderman? Why does the feeling of something being absent from my existence dissipate when you’re around? Who are you, Peter Parker? But, at the risk of sounding insane, she just resorted to a small smile.
It was one of those quiet days at the shop, and not much for MJ to do other than clear up around the counter, and stare at Peter Parker. He had come in close to morning, seeming more tired than normal. He had ordered a coffee and a doughnut, and had instantly collapsed into the corner he frequented, cracking open the hefty GED manual he was carrying. And because of it being a slow day, MJ spent a lot of the time that she wasn’t mopping or arranging items, looking over at him.
She didn’t get it. She was smart, she was captain of the Decathlon team, she was going to MIT in just a couple of months, and she prided herself on being able to figure things out. Everything has its explanation, and everything has an answer. Except for Peter Parker.
“So, high school didn’t go to plan?” she spoke up, surprising herself with the urge to fill the silence.
He started, glancing up to meet her eyes, before instantly looking away. He was a very nervous person, never really maintaining eye contact with her. “Oh, this thing,” he said quietly, letting out a short laugh as he gestured to the GED manual. “Something like that.”
“I get it,” she said, taking a cloth and wiping the counter down, giving herself something to do. “I barely remember anything from my high school days.”
Peter froze for a moment, a flash of hurt passing through his eyes, before he sighed, looking away. “Yeah but you’re going to MIT, so I guess you got it better than me,” he said, an edge of teasing in his voice.
“Okay fair,” she said quietly, ducking her head down to push away the excitement in her voice. She heard a quiet laugh come from Peter, and she looked up to him looking back into his book. At that moment, she spotted something jutting out of his pockets. The note he had been carrying that first day he came into the shop, that she had seen every now and then clutched in his hand, crumpled and worn. Just another thing to add to the many mysteries of Peter Parker that she swore to solve. One too many things, it turned out.
“What’s that note you keep carrying?” she asked, making Peter look up once again.
His eyebrows were raised, before glancing to where MJ was staring and he coughed slightly, clearly caught off-guard. “It’s, it’s nothing,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Something stupid that I should have let go of a while back.” But it wasn’t enough.
“You were holding it the first day you came in here,” she continued, not failing to notice the quick look of suppressed panic that passed through his eyes. “Like you were about to read something off of it.”
“It’s really nothing, believe me,” Peter interjected, his fists clenched. “Please, can we not, talk about it?” he whispered, his voice strained. “It’s nothing important.”
It should’ve been the moment MJ let it go, and usually, she would have. (Usually, she wouldn’t even voluntarily start a conversation with a customer, but that was a different topic.) Instead, she felt this surge of unexplained anger take over her. Not just anger, but frustration mixed in with unbridled concern, as if Peter’s answer had triggered something inside her.
“You know, nothing about you makes sense Peter Parker,” she said quietly, the air in the shop turning tense. He just looked up at her with wide eyes, taken by surprise by the change in tone. “So, what is it? What are you hiding, Peter?”
As soon as she said that, that rare white-hot pain returned, blinding her in a moment of vivid deja vu. She has said that before.
But when?
Peter had immediately jumped out of his seat, running up to the counter and reaching out to her. But something stopped him short, jerking his hands back from helping her, and MJ was struck with the urge to pull them forward, to cup her face with his hands. Like muscle memory.
“MJ, are you okay? What’s going on?” he breathed out shakily, wildly trying to catch her eye and make sure she was okay.
“I, I don’t know,” she groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. “It just happens randomly.” She looked up, the anger and frustration leaving her as quickly as it arrived. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what got into me,” she began, but Peter cut her off, shaking his head dejectedly.
“No, I’m sorry,” he said quietly, backing away from the counter, and the space suddenly felt too great. “I never should have come, I should have just stayed away. I’m so sorry MJ,” he muttered, collecting all his things and racing out of the shop.
A million things were going on in MJ’s head, as she watched him hurry out of the shop, only numbly noting the way he said her name with so much care, like it mattered more to him than she could know. Nothing about him made sense, so why was it that it felt more right than every other moment of her life?
She didn’t know Peter Parker at all. And maybe she never will.
***
The last time Michelle Jones saw Peter Parker, she had been looking for him in every chime of the bell above the door of the shop. She hadn’t seen him since that confusing day when she snapped at him, and he apologised for coming there, and things had felt even more empty than usual. It wasn’t just his order of coffee and doughnuts that lay forgotten, but the dreams had gotten more intense and vivid. Now, every single one had his brown eyes imprinted in her mind, the feelings and details growing more and more clear, but just out of reach as she woke up with a migraine every time.
Ned tried to tease her for all of two seconds before earning a death glare from her, immediately dropping the topic. Although, she didn’t even know what it was that was fuelling her. But she couldn’t shake the feeling that something had come undone that day, and if she kept pulling at the thread…
Well, he hadn’t shown up that day either , she noted numbly, starting to close up the shop. This was one of the rare occasions where she had to take an extra evening shift, and had to be the one to lock up and drop the key off. She went about the process methodically, her mind still on Peter Parker.
She hated it, but she was secretly hoping he would walk in through the doors, awkwardly stumble his way through an explanation for that day, and she’d have his coffee ready and a doughnut as an apology gift, and things would go back to whatever normal she had gotten used to. But, he was nowhere to be seen.
MJ was just cleaning up the place, when she felt like someone was watching her. In a city with superheroes and alien attacks, it wasn’t uncommon to feel like someone was out to get you. But, she didn’t feel like she was in trouble - quite the opposite.
When she turned around, she caught a brief glimpse of brown hair and too-big flannel, disappearing down the street.
“Peter!” she yelled, running outside onto the street, searching in the direction he had gone. But she only caught him looking back down the street, staring at the shop briefly before disappearing around the corner. “Damn it,” MJ hissed, pressing her hand to her forehead as she looked down, when she saw it.
The note. It must have fallen out of his pocket while he ran.
MJ took a deep breath, their last conversation replaying in her mind in slow motion as she gingerly picked up the note. It was frayed around the edges, and more creased than she imagined. Some of the words were blotted out, like tears had been shed on it and bled through the ink. She shouldn’t be doing this , she thought numbly as she head back inside, opening the note. She didn’t know him.
Dear MJ,
My name is Peter Parker. You don’t know me…
***
The first time MJ would see Peter again, she would give him hell.
He broke his promise , was her first thought, as she rode out the pain in her head after reading the letter, and the memories that had been stolen from her were restored in a final moment revelation. The note had fallen from her shaking hands, as the tears rolled down her cheeks, the life she had forgotten returning to her. The love she had always felt numbly returning in full force.
She had to find Ned, explain it to him and make him remember too. She couldn’t bear the idea of remembering while Ned lived through life without his best friend. It was the three of them, always. No wonder it felt so empty despite the amazing things happening.
But she had to find Peter first. She needed to tell him how stupid he was for doing that to himself, for leaving them alone because of some kind of self-sacrificial idea. And then she needed to hold him, and never let go again.
How could she forget someone like Peter Parker?