Peter had no idea he had already suffered complete social death, but another crisis was about to arrive.
The front door of the Parker house opened softly, and Mary Jane, her bright red hair impossible to miss, walked in carrying a baking tray piled with warm chocolate chip cookies.
"Aunt May, my aunt just baked these. She wanted me to bring some over so Peter, Eddie, and Clark could try them."
As a neighbor who had practically grown up in the Parker house, MJ moved through it more naturally than she did her own.
May was washing dishes in the kitchen. The moment she saw her, she smiled.
"Oh, thank you, sweetheart. Just put them on the table. Peter's upstairs, so would you mind going up and calling him down for a snack?"
"Sure."
MJ set down the tray, brushed off her hands, and headed upstairs with an easy spring in her step, greeting Clark on the couch as she passed.
She stopped outside Peter's bedroom door.
Normally, Peter had locked it.
But the Parker house was old, and today the lock had failed him in the most humiliating possible way.
As for why Peter's spider-sense didn't warn him... come on.
This was Mary Jane.
His childhood dream girl.
The girl he'd had a crush on forever.
One of the very few people his subconscious considered completely safe and absolutely non-threatening.
So the spider-sense had simply checked out.
"Peter, what are you doing in there? Aunt May said you should come down and..."
MJ spoke as she naturally pressed down on the doorknob and pushed the door open.
The door swung wide, revealing a scene that would immediately claim the number one spot in Peter Parker's Hall of Humiliation.
Peter had his back to the door, facing his full-length mirror.
He was shirtless, showing off a triangular build that looked like it belonged on a Greek statue, while the lower half of his costume clung tightly to him.
But that part was not the worst of it.
The real problem was that he was wearing the mask.
And his pose somehow made everything even worse.
One hand on his hip, the other dramatically pointing toward the mirror, hips twisted, he was in the middle of a wildly over-the-top, absurdly seductive bodybuilding pose.
Peter and Mary Jane stared at each other.
"...uh," MJ said, mouth open, the rest of her sentence dying somewhere in her throat.
Her brain had completely stalled.
She was looking at a body that was frankly insane, paired with an outfit that made no sense whatsoever.
"Oh, holy crap."
Peter's internal CPU exploded on the spot, and what came out was a cry of total despair.
He panicked and tried to yank off the mask, but in his haste his fingers snagged it wrong and nearly strangled him instead, making his eyes roll back.
Then he grabbed a plaid shirt from nearby, trying to cover himself, only to trip over a chair and crash face-first to the floor.
"MJ! You... you have to let me explain!"
Peter scrambled back to his feet, ripped the mask off, and revealed a face so red with shame and horror it looked ready to burst into flame. He kept backing up until his shoulders hit the closet, where he finally seemed to feel a little safer.
"This... this is a misunderstanding! It's... it's early Halloween prep! Yeah! A cosplay event for the school club! I was trying on a costume! I'm not Spider-Man!"
He was talking at top speed, but the logic behind the words had shattered into tiny, glittering pieces.
He had not expected to blow his secret identity twice in two days.
MJ stood frozen in the doorway.
First she looked at Peter's burning-red face.
Then her gaze dropped to the abs that definitely had not been there before.
Her mind started replaying every recent headline.
The masked figure in the Brooklyn alley who saved Eddie.
The Spider-Man swinging around beneath the Daily Bugle building.
The one fighting that green armored maniac with webs.
"Wait... Peter, you're Spider-Man?"
She sounded stunned.
This was somehow even crazier than finding out Tony Stark lived next door.
Peter felt his heart sink all the way down to his shoes.
He knew he was finished.
The secret he'd worked so hard to protect had just been exposed in front of the girl he liked most, in the dumbest way imaginable.
He had always imagined revealing himself to MJ with style, with heroism, with timing.
Not like this.
Not like this.
He shut his eyes in despair, waiting for the scream, the questions, or worst of all, for her to turn and run.
Apparently fate had decided to keep clowning him.
Because right then, Aunt May started coming upstairs to check on them.
"Peter? MJ? What's taking so long up there? The cookies are getting cold, and everyone's downstairs!"
Her voice was getting closer.
She had already reached the turn in the hallway.
Peter gave up completely.
Whatever happened, happened.
But then a strange light flashed in MJ's eyes.
Not fear.
Not shock.
Excitement.
It was the last thing Peter would ever have expected.
She shoved him backward into the room, slammed the door shut, and pressed herself against it to hold it closed.
Then things got awkward in a brand-new direction.
Her hand landed directly on Peter's bare chest.
Peter's soul had already left his body.
His brain had short-circuited from the nonstop chain of disasters.
"Kids?" Aunt May's hand settled on the doorknob.
MJ looked at Peter and, suddenly remembering the play they'd both be rehearsing in a few weeks, decided to have fun with this.
In an exaggerated, theatrical voice, she declaimed, "Oh, Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo?"
"Huh?!"
Peter stared at her blankly, making the sort of deeply confused sound only a broken teenage boy could produce.
MJ pinched his side hard and hissed through her teeth, "Go with it. Say the line, Romeo."
Pain, panic, and a raging survival instinct combined to produce a miracle.
Peter instantly understood.
Forcing his voice into what he hoped sounded passionate, he delivered the line in the driest, least natural way imaginable.
"I... I have climbed these walls on the wings of love... because stone walls cannot keep love out!"
The door cracked open.
Aunt May leaned halfway in, about to speak, then froze at the sight before her.
MJ was tenderly holding half-dressed Peter's face in both hands.
Peter was backed against the closet.
The two of them were less than two inches apart, gazing into each other's eyes in a pose so intimate it might as well have had its own soundtrack.
"Oh!"
Aunt May covered her mouth, her face instantly lighting up with that uniquely parental blend of delighted gossip and emotional satisfaction.
She immediately backed out with perfect discretion, gently pulling the door nearly shut again behind her.
"Sorry to interrupt your rehearsal, kids. Go on, go on. Just don't lock the door all the way."
Her cheerful humming drifted down the hallway as she walked away.
Once she was gone, Peter and MJ stayed frozen in that same position for a full ten seconds.
Finally, MJ shoved him away, her own face now bright red.
Peter fumbled frantically into his shirt, head lowered.
"MJ... I... thanks for covering for me. But please, let me explain. I really wasn't trying to keep this from you on purpose..."