Leaning close to Mary Jane so the others in the class couldn't hear, I whispered.
"MJ." The girl turned to me. "Are Flash and Harry like... together?"
I motioned with my eyes toward the pair of students who were just then walking to their seats.
"Peter, aren't you the one who has been in this school your whole life?" Mary Jane smirked. Playful sparks danced in her eyes.
"Well, I missed a lot of school, and all this school drama never really interested me," I answered evasively.
"Yeah, I suppose," MJ didn't argue. "Well, from what the girls talk about, I can tell you that Flash has been trying to get into Osborn's pants for several years now," she finally explained.
"Is it really that hard?" I asked in surprise. Honestly, for Osborn to refuse to sleep with a girl.
That jerk had one upped me even in my past world, I thought, looking at Mary Jane. And not just him, I glanced at Thompson. Perhaps it was good if they were busy with each other.
"Harder than you think," MJ chuckled, looking at Flash with a mix of envy and gloating.
"Really?" Was I worried for nothing? In this world, women pursued men's affections, but was it really so hard to catch Harry Osborn in their nets? I looked the former friend and enemy over again carefully. Harry stood out favorably from most of the men I had seen on the street. Handsome, well built, dressed decently, and generally without any signs of effeminacy or other masculine traits common to this world. I wouldn't be surprised if this guy had already thoroughly plowed through the flowerbed of our class.
"From what I've seen, Harry uses Thompson to scare off other girls," the girl explained. Then she looked at Osborn and bit her lip.
Damn, MJ, I know that look. I used to like it. You used to look at me that way before. No, MJ, for God's sake, no.
Maybe isolation from male attention had preserved your innocence, but it certainly hadn't done your character any favors. The old Harry would have said in such cases that the girl was practically jumping out of her panties. Given his father's financial situation, he had some experience with such girls. And no matter how much I didn't want to think of MJ in that light, the reality was that if Osborn crooked his finger at her... damn.
"Places, everyone." The cold voice of Sarasti came from the entrance. Like a command to a dog. No one disobeyed.
"Wasting time on nonsense means you're ready for the test." Yukka walked to the podium and looked around the room. For a second, her gaze lingered on Mary Jane.
I felt the girl tense up beside me, but a moment later, the teacher had forgotten about her.
"Thompson, come here." Flash obediently stood up and followed the instruction. "Hand out the questions."
Mary Jane next to me sighed with relief.
"Looks like we dodged a bullet," she whispered.
Now we just had to do the hard part. Cheat without Sarasti noticing anything with her dead, unblinking stare.
"There are fifty questions in the test," Sarasti announced. "To get an A, you must answer at least forty five correctly. Forty correct answers will earn you a B. Anything below thirty five is an F."
The test wasn't hard for me. I could have solved it in five minutes, but of course I didn't. Instead, I filled out one question per minute, carefully pretending to recheck each answer. Meanwhile, I was looking at the questions on Mary Jane's sheet, which she had moved to the edge of her desk.
Yukka didn't sit at her desk doing nothing. No, the woman walked between the rows, catching out the desperate ones, those who tried to cheat. When Sarasti had her back to me and MJ, I used my fingers to show first the question number, then the correct answer.
Even with my glasses, I couldn't make out most of the questions clearly. The girl had to fill in most of them herself.
At one point, Sarasti stopped right between me and Mary Jane and stood there for several minutes.
"Parker." At the sound of the teacher's voice, MJ flinched and broke out in a sweat.
"Yes," I answered in an unshaken voice.
"What do you think of Miss Thompson's breasts?" Sarasti asked in a cold voice.
"Um." I admit, I paused for a couple of seconds at such a question. "I think they're fine."
"Really?" Sarasti was surprised. "I thought something was wrong with them. Look more closely, Parker. You'll see it too."
"No matter how carefully I look, I'm afraid I can't see any details through her clothes," I snorted. "If you want details, ask Osborn."
By this point, the whole class had stopped paying attention to the test and was staring at us. My last statement drew surprised whispers, and Sarasti apparently decided to end the performance.
"But I think Miss Thompson's right breast is slightly larger than usual today. Let's have it," Yukka said, extending her open palm toward Flash.
To the amazed looks of the entire class, the girl pulled a cheat sheet from her bra.
"You're free to go, Miss Thompson," Sarasti cut her off.
An angry Flash stood up, grabbed her bag, and flew out into the hallway, not daring to say anything to the teacher. Yukka, meanwhile, walked to the front of the class and, without turning around, spoke again.
"Don't show your classmates your tights, Miss Sanders. You can join Thompson, but only after you've washed the ink off your thigh."
Another unfortunate soul left the classroom.
For the rest of the class, Mary Jane didn't even dare look in my direction again. I made sure she had a solid head start by giving her the answers to ten questions. If she could answer at least twenty five on her own, she would avoid an F.
"Time," Yukka announced. "Since Miss Thompson has left us, Osborn, collect the answer sheets."
Many were writing their last answers at the last second, but no one dared ask for extra time under Sarasti's stern gaze.
Handing her sheet to Harry, a visibly upset Mary Jane was about to leave the classroom, but the teacher stopped her.
"There are still five minutes before the bell, Watson. Aren't you interested in your result?"
"I know I failed," MJ muttered.
"I said, sit down," the teacher ordered without raising her voice. "I wouldn't be so sure if I were you."
Sarasti began announcing the results with the speed and precision of a computer. One glance was enough for her to check the correct answers. I couldn't do that. Out of some whim, Yukka set aside MJ's answer sheet and didn't announce her result until only two sheets remained.
"So, Watson. Thirty correct answers." Sarasti paused. "That is sixty percent. A D."
A murmur rose in the class. Even those who had scored barely above failing and expected a D themselves were surprised. The girls' indignation exceeded even their fear of the imperious teacher.
"Parker," the woman continued, ignoring the discontent. "Forty nine correct answers." She paused and looked at me coldly. "A C."
Silence fell over the class.
"Fuck," I chuckled. "Fair enough." I understood immediately. She was punishing me for helping MJ cheat. My score was nearly perfect, but she gave me a barely passing grade as a lesson. "Where did I make the mistake?"
Sarasti raised an eyebrow.
"I mean the one wrong answer. Since I have forty nine correct, one must be incorrect."
"You didn't account for the electron charge sign in question thirty nine."
"Thank you. I need to pay more attention to details."
"Wait, that's not fair," Harry jumped up. "Even if Parker is a genius, he's in the same class as us. You can't give him a C for one mistake. He practically aced it."
Wow, he stood up for me, and in front of Sarasti. We weren't even friends in this world.
"Why did you make an exception only for Watson?" one of the girls who failed dared to ask.
"No exceptions and no special treatment," Sarasti retorted. "They both scored below eighty percent, which means a C or lower. This is a lesson, Mr. Parker. If you want to help your friend with tests, do it in advance. Not during the test itself."
"I understand," I answered calmly. The next second, the bell rang.
"Free," Sarasti announced.
As soon as we left the classroom, the attention of the entire class focused on me and Mary Jane.
"Peter," Mary Jane began. "I'm sorry. This is all because of me."
"Hey, I was the one who offered to help you," I objected. "Besides, it's just a C in physics. Who cares?"
It would be an understatement to say everyone was surprised. I had just steamrolled over the reputation Peter had built over years of schooling. First, Peter Parker would never have offered to let anyone cheat off him. Second, he was always extremely meticulous about his grades. He could miss a week of school, but if he came, he worked for an A. Third, hearing a curse word from Parker was something no one had ever witnessed.
"That Sarasti is such a bitch," Osborn said, looking around to see if the teacher was nearby. "She had no right to lower your grade. You answered almost perfectly."
"Come on, Sarasti didn't do anything wrong. It might not be according to the rules, but she's right. It was a good lesson."
The rest of the school day passed without incident. Except that my classmates started talking to me. The morning incident helped me integrate into the group.
Mary Jane, however, was clearly not happy about me getting a C. The girl's conscience was still tormenting her. Although I repeated many times that I didn't care about my test grade. Even the classmates who initially disapproved of MJ's actions, under my urging, admitted they would have done the same in her place.
At lunch, I sat down next to Mary Jane again. The girl looked at me and gave me an apologetic smile.
"Still thinking about that nonsense?" I began.
"No, I just... it's awkward. I should have told Sarasti to give me an F," she said.
I rolled my eyes. How many times?
"Okay. You want to make up for your 'guilt,'" I highlighted the last word with imaginary quotes. "Come with me to, say, the Bunker tonight."
"No way," Flash exclaimed nearby. "Did I die and go to a parallel universe? Peter Parker is going to a nightclub with a girl. HOLY SHIT."
"Who are you and what have you done with Peter Parker?" Harry said, pointing an accusatory finger at me.
Of course, I laughed along with everyone else at that joke. It was a joke, right?
"So, MJ, are you coming?" I repeated the question.
"I don't know what happened in class, but I'm willing to make amends if Watson doesn't want to," Flash exclaimed.
"No, I mean, yes, of course, I'll go," the girl said hastily.
Victory. Although, that was too easy. As easy as if Mary Jane from my past had suddenly decided to make the first move toward me. Apparently, I had just demonstrated deviant behavior to the whole class. It wasn't customary here for boys to make the first move toward a girl they liked. But I didn't care. I could only thank fate for such a wonderful opportunity.
Flash drove me and Mary Jane home. We agreed to meet at ten in the evening and parted ways.
It was so unusual. I leaned the back of my head against the front door, processing the past day. I had gone to school, and I had liked it. Who would have thought?
With a goofy smile on my face, I reheated some soup and, whistling «The Way You Make Me Feel,» turned on the TV. I found a channel featuring a stand up comedian, a woman, of course. There were many jokes about men and sex. Some were funny, but they made me feel vicarious embarrassment for the speaker's former lovers.
During a commercial break, I saw an ad with Spider Woman. The girl was advertising insect repellent. Ironic.
She reminded me of something. Personal happiness was, of course, wonderful, and I wasn't going to give up my plans for the evening. But I also had business to attend to.
Returning to my room, I copied Stans's project data onto a flash drive and, at the same time, went to the Empire State University website to check Connors's schedule. Two lectures today. The last one ended in three hours. Perfect. I could get there by taxi in ten minutes. What to do with the remaining time?
My eyes fell on the web shooter blanks. I had started making them without really thinking about why, then stopped, realizing I only had enough materials for a craft from the early days of my heroics. After the masterpieces I had created using Van Miao's nanomaterial technology and moisture condensation from the air, spending time and effort on something so primitive seemed stupid to me. But why not? Web shooters were like a third hand for me. Even without spider sense, reflexes, agility, and strength, I could use them in case of emergency. It was better than carrying a weapon.
I had everything I needed. Experience, materials for the mechanism, ingredients. So why hadn't I made them yet?
Leaving the house two and a half hours later, I also took all my cash. On the way back, I would stop and buy some normal clothes. I was going to a party.
The taxi driver, unsurprisingly, was a woman. A very talkative woman. So talkative that after five minutes of conversation, I was considering whether a web gag would suit her face.
Fortunately, the ride was short. Twenty minutes later, I was standing outside Connors's lecture hall. The lecture was supposed to end any minute.