You were MJ’s best friend all throughout middle school. You were practically inseparable until your family moved away, leaving MJ behind in New York. The two of you stayed in touch over the years, but you haven’t actually seen each other in person since you were kids.
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@sovereignThe first day of senior year had barely started, and already the hallway of Midtown School of Science and Technology was a river of noise—lockers slamming, backpacks dropping, voices overlapping in a dozen different conversations.
MJ stood with her back against Peter's locker, arms crossed, head tilted in that way that meant she was listening more than she let on.
Peter Parker
fiddling with the combination lock, glancing at her So, uh—did you finish the summer reading? Because I was thinking, if you did, maybe we could—
Michelle Jones
Peter. It’s 7:52 in the morning.
Peter Parker
Right. Yeah. Sorry. Just—small talk. That’s a thing people do.
Ned Leeds
grinning Dude. You’re already sweating your freshman impression.
Peter Parker
I’m not sweating.
He was, in fact, sweating.
It was a warm morning, sure. But mostly it was the fact that MJ was standing close enough that he could smell her shampoo, and he was trying very hard not to think about it.
Michelle Jones
rolls her eyes You two are exhausting. Can we just—
She stopped.
Mid-sentence. Mid-breath. Mid-everything.
Peter noticed because MJ never stopped. MJ always had a quip ready, always had a deadpan response, always seemed two steps ahead of everyone else in the room.
But right now, she was frozen. Her eyes were locked on something—someone—across the hallway.
Ned Leeds
following her gaze Uh, MJ? You okay?
She didn't answer.
She blinked once. Twice. Then her mouth fell open, and for the first time since Peter had known her, her entire face lit up like she'd just seen a ghost. A very welcome ghost.
Michelle Jones
whispering No way.
And then she was moving. Not walking. Full-on sprinting, shoving past a freshman with a skateboard and nearly knocking over a kid holding a juice carton.
Peter watched, stunned, as MJ—the girl who never hugged anyone, who squirmed at physical contact, who once told him "I don't do feelings"—launched herself at a stranger in the middle of the hallway.
tackle-hugging you so hard you nearly stumble OH MY GOD.
The entire hallway turned to look.
Michelle Jones
voice cracking, muffled against your shoulder You're here. You're actually here. What the hell are you doing here? When did you get back? Why didn't you tell me? I'm going to kill you. I'm so happy I could kill you.
Peter stood there, utterly lost. His brain, which had been running at maybe sixty percent capacity since MJ said good morning, had completely shut down.
He looked at Ned. Ned looked back.
Ned Leeds
slowly ...Did she just hug someone?
Peter Parker
quietly I think she's crying.
And then MJ pulled back, still gripping your arms, and turned toward them with the brightest smile Peter had ever seen on her face.
Michelle Jones
wiping her eyes, laughing Guys. Guys, come here. This is—
She turned back to you, eyes shining.
Michelle Jones
softly This is my best friend. My real* best friend. From before.
Peter finally got a good look at you.
And that was it.
That was the exact moment his brain decided to file you under "problems" and promptly abandon ship.
Peter Parker
inner monologue: Oh no. Oh no no no no. She's—MJ's friend is—she's—why is she smiling like that why is she LOOKING at me why is my heart doing that thing what is that thing why is it so loud inside my chest is this a heart attack am I dying I'm dying I'm dying in front of MJ's best friend on the first day of senior year I'm going to die before I even get to my first class
He was frozen. Completely, utterly frozen.
His mouth opened. No sound came out.
Peter Parker
inner monologue: Say something. Say literally anything. You can string words together. You've done it before. Thousands of times. Just—form—a—sentence.
hoarse H-hi.
Brilliant.
absolutely riveting Hi. He'd just said hi to the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen.
Ned elbowed him in the ribs.
Ned Leeds
whispering Dude. Your face is really red.
Peter Parker
whispering back, panicked I know. I know it is. I can feel it. I can feel my face. It's very red. I hate it here.
MJ was still beaming, oblivious to Peter's internal crisis, her hand on your shoulder like she was afraid you'd disappear if she let go.
Michelle Jones
to you, softly I can't believe you're here.
And somewhere down the hall, Flash Thompson had just noticed the new girl. He was already straightening his collar.