MJ’s not certain where she wants to go yet. That’s okay, she’s got plenty of time. May’s suggested she even wait until they see which of the smaller colleges, at least, look likely to last the entire four years, or have the money for scholarships.
May assumes that most people will be writing their essays about the dustcloud, and whom they lost, and how it changed their lives and their worlds. MJ didn’t do that. Instead she wrote about what’s happened since, starting with the violence at Ross’ visit to the city, and going from there-not entirely as a coherent whole, but it was just a first draft.
After they’ve said hello and MJ’s gotten a glass of water, May starts her critique with that, then adds, “Also, I think by the time you’re sending this in, even to your early decision choice, if you decide to do that, a lot more things will have happened, though you should definitely open with your own experience in Greenwich Village no matter what.”
“Oh, I’m sure I’ll be changing it all summer,” MJ says, “maybe starting later this week. You know rumors are flying around Ross is going to start ‘temporarily’ restricting the movements of registered enhanced people, and/or doing an aggressive crackdown on any unregistered ones? I’m not sure which action would be scarier.”
“I, uh, hadn’t heard much news recently, I’m afraid.” Not since a grim-looking Happy showed up at her door with a photo of an apparently prophetic drawing of her nephew’s death-she thinks she knew by then anyway, deep down. Some part of her that is hopelessly furious at the universe for taking both Ben and Peter from her only two years apart from each other doesn’t want to know or care anymore.
“Well, there’s a flood of sources saying he’s considering executive orders for both those things. And he doesn’t even need to steal higher court seats; he just has to fill the ones the dustcloud left vacant! Seriously, I wouldn’t blame poor Ginsburg if she died of sheer frustration. So they’ll uphold whatever he does.”
That’s a disturbing thought indeed, though only hardly unfamiliar this past year and a half. “If you want to say that about his judges in your essay,” May says carefully, “you don’t want to just assume it. Maybe look at his first nominees, cite their past decisions and anything they’ve said for why you think they’d do that.”
MJ’s laugh is angry. “You know what I really should write in my essay, what I would if I was really as fearless as I’ve pretended to be all this time? About when we reach the point where we can’t obey the law anymore. I’d been thinking about that for a good amount of time, of course, and now it’s definitely looking like the question isn’t decreasing in relevance any. When we have to acknowledge that if we don’t step outside the law and do what must be done, terrible things will happen, or say that it’s completely been corrupted, and it’s no longer possible to win by legal means, and, as John Locke says, it’s our duty to rise up. But at this point, I’m honestly scared that having the wrong person read that essay could get me arrested.”
May knows MJ now, has grown to know Peter’s two best friends even more these past few weeks, since they lost him. She knows that fear won’t stop her forever. And maybe, in the end, it shouldn’t.
But she has to be more prudent about it than teenagers tend to be about things. So May replies, “It might not be worth it for a college admissions essay. Remember, only the people evaluating your applications are going to read that; your words wouldn’t have much impact. I think someday you may write or speak about what you’re saying to me, in a time and place where you might find the results worth the potential consequences.”
“But not yet?” MJ sounds rueful, but not angry, at least not at May. “I guess that makes sense. In the meantime, I assume you’ll keep my secret?”
“I kept Peter’s for over a year,” is her softly spoken reply.
They’re both silent for a moment, sharing their grief without speaking. Then MJ says, “At least he’ll escape whatever Ross would’ve inflicted on him. I mean, the government even has his identity and registration filed away on some classified server, right? And it was probably only thanks to Stark that they did classify that.” That’s true; May got the explanation from no less than Pepper Potts when she first found everything out. “I wonder how many other people they have there, people they can easily arrest if they’re still alive and they decide they want to.”
It’s on that unsettling thought that May’s phone chimes. “Is Ned finally on his way?” MJ asks as May picks it up. “I saw his essay. I think I understood about half of it.”
“That’s more than I did,” May tells her. “And yes, he’s nearly here. Maybe you could help me help him?”
MJ smiles then, a real smile. “I’ll do my best.”