The first day back at school was surprisingly normal.
Felicia, Cindy, and Peter had gotten there early to help set up for an assembly in the auditorium, and were walking to class.
The senior girl was now trying to persuade her girlfriend to head over to the nearest broom closet and risk being late for the first period.
Judging by the not received status of Peter's texts, Harry was probably in a broom closet already, making out with Liz.
"By the way, I checked Tweeter this morning, and I didn't really see many people talking about what happened at all," said Cindy, patting Peter's shoulder consolingly.
"Wait seriously?"
Felicia snorted, momentarily pausing her cajoling of Cindy to dispense whatever gossip she'd gleaned over the break. "People are mostly talking about those two guys that made out on top of the ferris wheel in Bayville, or about that red headed Natasha chick getting into a fight with Amora something-or-other at Club A."
The hallway was partially blocked by a group of people crowded around a set of lockers. Peter and Cindy made to step around, but Felicia, being the nosy one, grabbed their wrists and pulled them through the crowd.
"What are you doing?"
"I want to know why everyone's whispering."
"Ever hear the saying curiosity killed the cat?" asked Peter.
"Good thing I've got eight more lives, then."
Cindy muttered something unsavoury under her breath, but Felicia just ignored their protests until they reached the front.
Peter froze.
The picture of Mary Jane laughing with Flash in front of his room was taped up to the former's locker, in full colour for all to see.
Peter quickly grabbed the photo and tore it down, making eye contact with Flash, who'd just pushed his way to the front. Flash's look of confusion had morphed into horror when he'd seen what the picture seemed to imply, and he stepped in front of the locker to shield it from everyone else's view.
"Look, absolutely nothing happened between me and Mary Jane that night, alright? We're just friends. Nothing more. And if I hear anyone talking shit about MJ, I'll kick their asses, got it?" asked the blond angrily.
His eyes landed on Peter during the first sentence, a silent word of understanding had passing between them.
After the crowd had dispersed, and Felicia had successfully persuaded Cindy into finding the janitor's closet, Flash turned to Peter.
"Look, Parker. We're not friends. But...I'd never to something like that to Mary Jane. To anyone," said Flash sincerely, holding out his hand. "Truce?"
Peter thought for a moment, then shook his hand. "Deal."
Flash grinned for a moment, before the smile morphed into a glare. "If you hurt her, I'll hurt you," he said under his breath.
Peter winced under the blond's grip. "Yep. Gotcha."
Flash let go and gave him a hearty clap on the back. "And do something about that haircut. For all our sakes," he snickered as parting advice.
Peter frowned to himself. "Is my hair really that bad?" he wondered aloud.
"Yep," said Harry, sidling up to him.
"You have a hickey on your throat," lied Peter, then laughed his ass off when Harry slapped a hand over his neck in embarrassment.
"So Kaine left, huh?" asked Miguel.
Peter sat down next to him, handing over a glass of lemonade. "Yeah, last Sunday. I, uh, I feel like I owe you an explanation."
The other boy didn't say anything.
"See... It's like driving, okay? I can imagine myself doing it and it's fine, and then I get behind the wheel and completely freeze up, and I don't know what to do."
"Okay... I don't follow."
Peter ran his fingers through his hair. "Let me start over. You were the first person I ever really liked. Everyone else, all the other letters, were born out of fantasy. But yours was based off of actually knowing you. I didn't realize how I felt about you until you became Kaine's boyfriend. But over time, that feeling just faded away, and I didn't feel that way about you anymore. I just missed my friend."
Miguel furrowed his brows. "Why didn't you just tell me that? I feel like I'd have understood."
"Well, I couldn't. I didn't know until MJ."
A huff. "Right, MJ."
Peter looked at him defensively. "It was real in a different way. And I'm sorry, but–."
Miguel waved him off. "I get where you're coming from. It's kind of how it was with Kaine and I. You know, minus all the fake stuff and everything else."
There was quiet for a little while, only broken by the scraping of the flag against the flagpole, before Peter spoke up again. "Did you...stop loving Kaine after he broke up with you?"
"No. Not at first. At some point it changed, though. The longer he was gone, the more I understood why he ended it. Look, if you really miss MJ, why don't you just tell her?"
Peter winced. "I can't."
Miguel was baffled. "Well, why not?"
"Because if it wasn't real, I didn't lose anyone. But if I say that it was real, and she still doesn't want me..."
"Then at least you'll know. You've gotta tell people how you feel when you feel it. You can't sit in your room writing love letters you're never gonna send. Besides, MJ wouldn't even be in your life if they hadn't gotten out in the first place," pointed out Miguel, a touch smugly.
"I don't know, I'm just tired of writing love letters. It would be nice to receive one."
The front door opened. Benji walked out, carrying Peter's letter box. "Peter? Don't kill me. It's just, you were always throwing these away, and I thought they were something you should keep."
Frowning, Peter tugged open the box, and blinked.
Miguel reached in and plucked out one of the paper slips, reading it aloud.
'Pete, everyone was so impressed by your presentation in lit, but especially me. I love having a geek for a fake boyfriend.'
Peter felt himself blush. Benji pulled open another one before he could protest.
'You looked absolutely groovy today! ;)'
"..."
Miguel looked at Peter, tipping his shades down like he'd done two years ago. "Still think you haven't gotten a love letter?"
Peter's heart was doing cartwheels in his chest as walked out to the field where he'd texted to meet up with Mary Jane.
The redhead was stuffing her pom-poms into her bag when she caught sight of peter walked over, and straightened up. "Hey."
"Hi. I, uh, I came to tell you something," started Peter.
MJ's face was impassive. "Okay."
Peter's head went blank and he blurted out the first thing he could think of. "I drove here."
The girl blinked, looking genuinely surprised. "Really? Wow, that's... that's... that's great, congrats."
"Thanks," he mumbled, about to head home and lock his feelings in a box and bury it underground, but MJ's "Whoa, whoa, whoa. What's in your hand?" stopped him.
He floundered. "Oh, uh, nothing." Smooth, Parker.
There was a pause, and MJ spoke up, gentler. "Is it for me, Peter?"
"Um... Can you turn around? Please?" asked Peter, feeling like an idiot.
MJ just raised an eyebrow but complied with his request.
"Dear MJ, I need you to know that..." he started to say, before tapping MJ on the shoulder.
She turned around, and Peter shoved the letter into his jeans, looking directly into her eyes and speaking.
"I need you to know that I like you, Mary Jane Watson. As more than a friend, and sure as hell not in a fake way."
MJ blinked, taking a step closer, letting out an exasperated breath. "The reason that I went to Eugene's room that night, was to tell him that it's over. Because I've got feelings for you, Peter. Only you."
It took a beat for that to sink in. "Huh?" asked Peter eloquently.
MJ grabbed Peter by the collar tugging him down so that she could look directly into his eyes for a moment, then kissed him hard on the mouth.
The brunette was unresponsive for a few moments, before he grabbed her waist and practically dipped her, letting his lips show exactly how he felt.
When they finally pulled away from each other, MJ reached up to cup his face.
"Face it, tiger...you just hit the jackpot."
Epilogue
Ding dong.
"Peter, it's for you!" yelled Benji.
Peter ran downstairs, nearly tripping over his feet, before making it to the front door. As soon as Benji saw him, he bolted outside. Peter stared after him in confusion, and stepped out to see who it was. "Uh, hi--"
"Peter Parker?" asked the boy, standing on the porch.
"Umm, yes?"
The boy chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of his head. "Wow, it's, uh, it's been a while."
"Sorry, who are you?"
"Oh! Right. My name's Johnny. Jonathan Storm."
Peter swore.
Here we go again.