Chapter Text
Peter sat in the school parking lot, slouched down on a bench. The hum of other students around him did little to drown out the buzzing frustration in his brain. This day was officially terrible.
First, there was the pop quiz in math. Tony had always told him he was a genius, but geniuses didn’t get blindsided by pop quizzes. Sure, Peter could probably solve some of the toughest equations on the planet, but not when he was trying to avoid getting his shirt stained by mystery meat at lunch.
And then, of course, there was Flash. Flash was a beta, but he might as well be an alpha with the way he shoved Peter into a locker earlier. It was like Flash thought he was some kind of dominant force—no, more like Flash thought everyone should think he was an alpha. Which, frankly, was annoying. Peter didn’t need Flash’s type of attention, especially not on a day like today.
To top it all off, Peter had gotten his phone confiscated in Mr. Harrison’s class because it rang. He had turned it off, but Tony called anyway. Of course, it wasn’t Tony’s fault. The man practically lived to break all the rules. Still, it didn’t make it any less annoying.
Now, Peter had been waiting in the parking lot for nearly twenty-five minutes after the final bell. Where the hell was Happy? Was Tony really too busy to send his best friend to pick him up? He sighed and tugged at his hoodie, eyes scanning the sea of kids around him.
“Where’s your ride, Parker?” MJ’s voice cut through the noise, sharp and direct.
Peter glanced up, giving her a lopsided grin. “No idea. Probably stuck in traffic or something.”
MJ narrowed her eyes, clearly not buying it. She didn’t say anything, just studied him for a moment before turning on her heel and walking off. Peter tried not to let it bother him, but it kind of did. She always did that—gave him a look like she could see through every last thing he was thinking. But MJ wasn’t the only one around here who could read people.
About five minutes later, MJ returned, flanked by Ned, who was carrying a bag of chips.
“We've got you,” Ned said with a big grin, plopping down next to Peter.
Peter blinked, still in a bit of a daze. “Uh, what?”
“I told you, you’re not getting stuck here. If Happy’s late, we’ve got you covered,” Ned said, pulling out a bag of chips and offering Peter a handful.
Peter couldn’t help but smile, his shoulders relaxing for the first time all day. Having two alphas as best friends was definitely more of a benefit than a curse. Especially since, unlike some people, they didn’t try to act like they ran the world. They just had his back.
MJ sat on a nearby bench, her arms crossed and eyes glued to her phone. She glanced up only long enough to toss Peter a look of silent judgment. “You know, you could at least pretend to care about your future sometimes,” she said, her voice dry. “Just a little bit?”
Peter rolled his eyes. “I care about my future. I just... don’t care about the quizzes and mystery meat and whatever else this school throws at me.” He paused, glancing sideways at her. “You’re the one who wants to be here.”
MJ didn’t even flinch, just shrugged. “Someone has to keep you in check, Parker.”
Ned snorted. “More like, keep him from getting too distracted by his weird, spider-person problems.” He waved a chip in front of Peter’s face. “By the way, you totally owe me for letting you copy off my notes. And, you know, saving you from Flash's idiocy.”
Peter took the chip, popping it into his mouth. “Hey, if I had known how much of a pain that quiz was going to be, I would’ve studied… harder.”
MJ laughed, the sound light and casual. “You really think that’s going to stop you from spending half the class staring out the window? Seriously, Peter. It’s like your brain turns off sometimes. And I don’t care what your ‘spidey sense’ tells you, I’ll still be there to remind you how much you actually need to focus.”
Peter flinched at the mention of his “spidey sense,” the way MJ had said it—like it was something that could be turned on or off with the right attitude. The thing was, Peter didn’t always have control over it. It was like his body decided to do its own thing sometimes, leaving him hyper-aware of every single detail in his environment. And sometimes, that made it hard to focus on anything else.
“You’re not wrong,” Peter muttered, trying to shake off the awkwardness of the conversation.
MJ tilted her head, studying him for a moment, but she didn’t press. Instead, she just turned her attention back to her phone. “Well, at least you’ve got someone looking out for you. If you ever need help getting away from your so-called ‘mystery meat’ again, you know who to call.”
Peter laughed, shaking his head. “Thanks, MJ. I think I’ll just skip the cafeteria next time.”