Her mom keeps her off school the rest of that day, which is fine because MJ so does not want to spend it being grilled by her classmates about the bus, Derek, or Spider-Man.
She takes out her marker pen half a dozen times to make a spot on the hurricane map, but each time she stops. This was not a weather event.
Just a freak event. Another one. There is actually not enough room on her conspiracy map to fit any more oddities into New York City.
Maybe she needs a new map.
The next day is Friday and apart from a brief power cut, everything at school is normal. People - other people - are starting to talk about homecoming, and college, and the future. The halls are brimming with that anticipation which gathers and builds through senior year. Jeez. What is it going to be like when it comes around to prom?
The last class of the week is gym, but the coach is off sick so, lucky them, they get a late-schedule study period in the library with the school administrator, Mr Julius.
MJ cannot concentrate on any kind of study so starts doodling, except the doodles all come out as slim guys with brown hair and kind eyes. She scribbles them out before anyone sees.
The trouble is, Peter is pretty awesome. He jumps in to help in every situation, even if it causes him trouble. He ignores the petty jibes and indignities of high school with a grace she can never hope to achieve. He's kind and polite, and all round a really nice guy. And, you know, he can move. That stuff in her apartment - he's strong.
All this makes her life complicated, because on the one hand, he would be an amazing boyfriend, and on the other hand, she cannot let him near her trainwreck of a life because… Well, because he would be nice about it. And that would hurt. And she would be mean to him because she can't stand pity and then they would break up because she also can't stand a guy without the self respect to tell her to get lost when she's mean to him.
Ah sweet logic. Why she is permanently single.
It is a pity though because he is really, really nice. What's the word? Decent. How rare is that. A nice, decent guy who's good-looking and single.
"Argh." She flings her pen across the library. Everyone looks round. "Ran out of ink," she mumbles, but luckily nobody gets to react because the door opens and a teacher leans in and says to Mr Julius, "You better come outside. Your car-"
MJ refuses to follow Mr Julius and the other kids down to the parking lot, and instead sits at her desk ripping her doodles into pieces so small that nobody will ever know what they were. Peter Parker is lounging on the windowsill looking down at the parking lot.
"You have to admit this is strange," he says.
Mr Julius got called away to deal with a giant hailstone that fell on his car. The other students have followed so they can put Teachers Car Giant Hailstone Wreck on their socials, leaving Peter, who said he'd seen a few giant hailstones and could take them or leave them, and MJ who wants to know why.
She says, "It's only strange if you think it's random."
He turns towards her, still half watching the drama play out in the parking lot.
MJ says. "Haven't you noticed lately? Weird weather."
"Well, we did screw up the planet."
"I don't think global warming carries out precision hits."
That gets his attention. He jumps down off the windowsill and comes to lean on her desk. She holds out her phone. "Borough scout leader killed by giant hailstone."
"Ok. Coincidence."
"City outreach worker struck by lightning."
The lurid headlines flick past under her thumb. Local figures, youth counsellors, aspiring pop stars. Killed or maimed or set on fire by freak weather. And a bakery in midtown, nowhere near the school bus route.
"Something is happening," she says. "This is a new level of very specific incidents. It just gets lost in amongst actual, you know, freak weather."
"You're saying someone has assassinated …" he gestures at her phone … "all these people, and now they're covering it up with hailstones?"
"Maybe," she says. "Put enough snow days in the local news and nobody cares if some lunch lady has been, "she glances at her phone, "rent in two by the sheer force of the hurricane."
Peter screws up his face in disgust. "You're right... That is odd."
"All in New York City. Actually, a lot of it right here in Queens."
He hops off the desk and paces up and down. "The flood at school. The tornado in your living room."
"The muffin sign," she says pointedly.
His eyes narrow, but he only says, "The bus."
"Which you completely missed."
"Yeah. You think these are all connected?"
"There's a pattern. And while we all know that clusters of events can be random, in today's world…" She waggles her palm from side to side. "Not so much. But nobody's putting this together."
"If nobody thinks it's connected, nobody investigates." Peter frowns. "Wait, wait. Who would do this?"
She shrugs. "And why?"
"I should tell somebody," he says.
Later, she thinks that is off - why is telling someone on him? For now she lets it slide. "We can't," she says. "These have all been swept aside as accidents. The thing with the bus didn't even make it into the news and that involved Spider-Man. Which means -"
"Maybe they were accidental." But he's messing with her. His lips smile but his eyes are serious. "No. Someone powerful enough to manipulate the news outlets…"
"All the social media," she says. "You can't tell me nobody filmed that girl struck by lightning as she was rehearsing the national anthem for the homecoming game."
"All the police reports too," he agrees. "And we can't be the first to notice…"
She raised an eyebrow at him. "We?"
"I was kind of working on it too," he confesses. "With Ned."
"OK." Was this the reason Peter has been so secretive?
"So why is nobody putting it together," he continues. "Where are the breaking stories, the citizen journalists?"
"Well if they have any sense they don't put it on their Instagram because that means they'd be on the radar of whoever is doing this."
"You're right again."
There is a commotion outside in the parking lot. Thunder, and regular hail, rattle the library windows.
"Can I take a look at your hurricane map?" he asks. "Please."
The politeness kills her. "Sure. I'll talk to my mom. See if you can come over tonight."
"Thanks. Ned too? We've been kind of... working on this. Gathering data. But you're way ahead of us with your climate murder board."
She likes it. "I'm this close to push pins and red string."
He laughs, she smiles back. They hold eye contact just a shade longer than mere friendship. For a second she thinks he's going to say something, maybe, that he likes her too? She swears she's not imagining it, that he's on the point of admitting something. She's had that feeling a lot lately, but just like all those other times, he just tears his eyes away and says nothing.
Well, if he leaves for college and still hasn't told her, at least she'll know the Indifference Suit is working. Yay.
He's on his phone, tapping on searches. "I'm not sure any of these freak weather events are random. It's just too neat. Too … targeted."
She's not sure. "Some of them must be. I mean, why would any of these people be targets? Or are you saying a global conspiracy wants to wipe out Mr Julius as a key player in the survival of humanity?"
"Ha. Uh, no, that's stupid." He glances at his watch. "Crap. This class was rescheduled, I should have been halfway home already. I gotta go. Can you, like, text me to meet up later?"
"Sure." They swap numbers, then he gives her an apologetic smile. As before, the moment lasts just a little longer than normal. Then Peter murmurs, "Take care," and sprints from the room.
MJ looks at her phone. It is late. Stupid timetable changes. She texts home, to ward off any discussion about tardiness, and asks about a potential study date. She's pressing Send when a new thought strikes her.
She goes to the window and leans forward, her forehead against the noisy glass, to see the parking lot directly below.
The commotion is because Mr Julius parked in the spot reserved for the school bus. It says clearly: BUS. But there's his car, now sporting a crater in its roof, and a rapidly shrinking chunk of sky ice puddling in the middle of it.
MJ frowns, peering through the hail.
The class was rescheduled. The teacher parked where the bus should have been. And Peter Parker was supposed to be on that bus.