Peter Parker: Broke Genius Highschool Criminal

MJ's Secret Sketchbook

"Yeah?"

"Well, Peter and I have a reputation for being...."

"Not very tough?" Peter chimed in.

"Yeah, but, MJ, if we hang out with you, maybe people will start thinking we're tough too?"

Peter raised his eyebrows.

"I think that's a longshot for you guys."

"Hey!" Peter said, leaning back in his chair. "We can be tough! We pranked Flash, remember? Even if we did get caught, the prank still worked!"

Ned and Peter both laughed. But MJ did not. Whatever sort of smile she may have had on her face before faded, and she began to stare into the distance, towards her brother's band on stage. They were playing a classic rock song that Peter had heard a million times, knew the chorus, but couldn't tell you who sung if for the life of him. They were good, the band. But that wasn't why MJ was staring at them. In fact, she wasn't staring at them. It was more like she was staring right through them.

"MJ?" Peter asked, after watching her for a moment. 

"Hm?" She glanced at him with raised eyebrows.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing." She said, quickly, with a single shake of the head. She reached behind her to pick up her bag, and pulled out a sketchbook. It was not the same sketchbook she had in detention, though. This one was bound in what looked like dark brown leather, and had a lock on it. She didn't open it. She just set it on the table in front of her and put her hand flat on it. "I was just thinking of something. But it's nothing."

Peter didn't want to pry. He could tell something was wrong. We aren't friends, he told himself. We barely know each other.

They sat in silence once again. Usually Peter would enjoy the live music, but it was more of an annoying background drone today. He tried to get out of his mind, but he couldn't stop staring at MJ's slender fingers resting atop the cover of her sketchbook.

It was as though she had gotten it out as a source of comfort. But that source of comfort wasn't working. She was tense. She was twitching. She was trying too hard to look relaxed, and Peter wasn't buying it.

After a couple more moments of silence, MJ stood abruptly. "I need to go home." She scooped up her sketchbook, and tried to shove it back in her bag, but it wasn't fitting.

"Hey, whoa, is everything okay?" Peter asked, standing. "Let us walk you home, okay? Please?"

"Yeah, let us walk you home." Ned echoed.

"Why, cause... cause I'm a girl?" MJ asked. She tried to put on her usual bravado, but Peter narrowed his eyes at her. Was her voice shaking?

"No." He reached forward to hold her bag open for her so she could put her sketchbook in it.

"Because we're supposed to be friends now, right?"

Her shoulders visibly drooped.

"I think- I think I'll be okay." She said. And with that, she walked off and out of the venue.

"That was weird." Ned said, still sitting at the table.

"Yeah." Peter agreed, still looking in the direction MJ had left.

Ned finished his drink and stood, clapping Peter on shoulder. "Well, let's go, dude. We've got a Lego death star back at your place that isn't gonna finish itself."

"Yeah." Peter said. "Let's go."

-

It was getting dark when Ned and Peter got to Peter and his Aunt May's apartment. And it was getting cold too. The two hustled inside, and stumbled into the kitchen to look for some snacks to take up to Peter's room, but they stopped.

Aunt May was at the table, bent over, head in her hands, shoulders shaking.

Peter rushed over to her. "May? May, what's wrong?"

She didn't look up, but pressed the palms of her hands into her eyes and shook her head, back and forth.

"I'm so sorry, Peter."

"Whatever it is, it's okay. Please tell me what's wrong." He sat down across from her and took her hands away from her face. "Please?"

May took a deep breath and looked up with watery, bloodshot eyes.

"I lost my job, Peter. They think I've been stealing money."

Peter sat in stunned silence. It was a shock. It was horrible. How could anyone think that of my Aunt May?

He sighed, and leaned forward, trying to make eye contact with his aunt, who had sunken in on herself again. "Aunt May, it's gonna be okay. I promise. It's late, we can figure this out tomorrow, okay?"

May shuddered and gulped, tearing up all over again, but nodded. "Okay." She whispered.

Ned went home. Peter went to bed early, after making sure Aunt May was going to be okay.

But he didn't sleep.

There was too much to think about. His mind raced. Images and sounds surfaced and resurfaced, the result of an exhausted mind, and he hadn't even done that much that day.

He was scared, though he wasn't going to share it. And he was angry, really angry. And still, through all that, he thought of MJ, and her sketchbook, and why that particular one seemed to be so important.

He wondered if they'd ever be friends. Not just new acquaintances with big talk of becoming friends. Real friends, like him and Ned, who could talk about anything and everything.

He just wondered what the future would hold. Everything always seemed to change so fast. He just couldn't seem to keep up sometimes.