@spiderxlingâ
â--âs not a big deal.â MJ shrugged a lanky shoulder. âAnd Flash isnât my friend. Heâs just going to M.I.T. with Ned and I next fall.â
What the hell she was doing? Michelle Jones was not social. She did not invite people places. She read her books, worked and did decathlon. Her word wasnât small; it was safe. Outside of Ned, MJ didnât really have any friends. That was fine. It was a choice, really. What was he, then? Him: Peter Parker. The boy who came in way too often for coffee that Michelle was pretty sure he didnât drink. He hadnât hit on her, though. They chatted some and it seemed innocent enough. Whatever tiny spark of recognition that had ignited in her chest that first day he had come in remained, but it was wrapped in a hazy fog that she never noticed. Despite all that, there she was. Inviting him to a party at Flashâs. They had to be the same age, right? He didnât look much older than her -- if at all.
âBut itâs totally cool if youâre busy, or, like, not interested.â Michelleâs words came out quicker. She didnât care. She didnât want to care. âJust thought Iâd ask.â
