The secret of a good lie is don't over explain, and throw in one good detail.
[ book three of assassin series ]
[ daughter!hawkeye oc x peter parker ]
[ au, less than a year before infinity war ]
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE: GIRL CODE (no silent readers please🥺)
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For the first time in my life, I'm distracted from my mission. I know what I must be doing- or, more what I should be doing. I should be trying to prove that Norman Osborne was murdered, I shouldn't be trying to convince MJ that we shouldn't leave school today.
"It'll just be after lunch, so, you know technically we'll just be ditching gym. It's no big deal," MJ attempts to nonchalantly convince me that her logic is valid.
I shut the door to the classroom where Jessica is in the midst of her student council meeting and hiss at MJ, "that's still a class! And.. I'm not supposed to leave school, I just got back."
Seeing that I'm not being convinced, MJ claps her fingers together and pouts her lip, "please, Lila, I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important."
I sigh, leaning back against the door, "what is this about, again?"
"To meet my favorite author in the world," she tells me like I should be able to read her mind and already know. "Marcell M. Knightly is going to be at Midtown Mall from exactly eleven a.m until four p.m for the signing of her new Mystery novel. Please, please, please, I won't ask for anything else. It would mean the world to meet her."
I can't ignore the plead in MJ's voice and the severity of the situation. After all, it was just one day. And if Ferris Bueller has taught me anything, it's that one day off from high school is good every now and then. Plus, it's not like I'd be missing anything important at school. After all, Peter was away today with Harry and Ned attending Norman Osborne's funeral. "I.. guess it wouldn't be the end of the world.. if we didn't go to gym today"-
Before I can finish my sentence, MJ cuts off my words with the tight grip of her arms around me which soon after constricts my oxygen. "Thank you, Lila," is all she tells me in hopes of playing off her genuine excitement.
I laugh, hugging her until she slips away to rest her hand at my hip. My eyebrows pull together once I ask, "so, how are we going to get rid of my shadow?"
MJ's gaze follows my own through the classroom window. We're both looking at Jessica pridefully gesture to her PowerPoint demonstrating what decorations she wanted to hang in the gym for the Winter Formal. From beside me, MJ hums, "here's a crazy idea: why don't we just ditch her?"
I scoff, turning to decipher if she's being serious or not, "because she writes a report about me every day," I step away from the door to turn and inform MJ under my breath, "she's so detailed. She even wrote what I had for lunch and that I left the peels from my orange inside of my lunch box and not the school's compost box."
