Chapter Text
Jeremy lifts a leg up onto the perforated picnic table seat, resting his elbow atop his knee. He scoops up another spoonful of flavorless corn, once again wishing the school would either season their slop or grace their students with salt and pepper packets. Next to him, Chase wipes the sweat from under his wavy blond bangs.
The sun beats down on them from overhead, scorching and relentless due to the sparseness of clouds in the sky. Other groups of students had claimed the picnic tables in the shade of the nearby trees before Jeremy or his friends got out here, and there's no way any of them are going to eat inside. It's way too crowded and loud with assholes getting into fights and throwing food around, stray spitballs being shot here and there, and cramped tables covered in sticky messes.
"Man, it's hot as shit out here," Chase complains, squinting his eyes, lashes fluttering. He's wearing a tank top, so his arms are bare, and on top of that is his sleeveless jean vest that's covered in sewn patches and pins from metal bands. It's very similar to the one Michael has, though it lacks the artistic flair Michael added to his own.
"Dude, take your jacket off," Camila says, reaching over to steal a cherry from Jeremy's fruit cocktail. He doesn't like them, and she has always been a fan of sweets, so he doesn't acknowledge it.
Unlike Chase, Jeremy notes that Camila's jean jacket is tied around her waist. Aside from that, her Jheri curls are pulled back with a banana clip, which is a smart move considering the weather.
Out of everyone in his friend group, Jeremy is glad he doesn't have hair that touches his neck. He couldn't imagine having to deal with it during the spring and summer.
"No way," Chase scoffs, fiddling with the top of his chocolate milk carton. He hasn't gotten it open yet, calloused fingers struggling to rip the sealed paper.
Camila rolls her eyes and turns to Michael. "You gonna eat those cherries?"
For a moment, the only sounds Jeremy can hear are of the other people chatting at nearby tables. Michael sits directly across from Jeremy, and he's seemingly oblivious to Camila's attempt to ask him a question. His attention is solely being given to his sketchbook, which he has propped up against the table at an angle. This way, he's the only one who can see what's on the pages. At the moment, he's steadily moving his pencil, staring at the page with narrowed eyes.
"Michael," Camila says, louder.
Michael blinks, turning to meet her gaze. "Huh?"
"Can I have your fruit?"
Michael doesn't respond for a moment. He glances down at his tray, then up at Camila. "Oh. Oh, uh, sure. I don't care."
Michael seems to be done eating anyway. He already finished off the pizza and veggies, and a crumpled, deformed milk carton has been haphazardly discarded by his tray.
Camila reaches over to bring Michael's tray in front of her. She takes a few bites of his fruit cocktail, but her eyes keep flickering over to him. Once again, he's lost in his drawings.
It's not unusual for Michael to draw during lunch. Lately, however, he's been doing it more frequently, seemingly off in his own world. He never lets anyone else see what he's drawing, either—always so secretive.
Jeremy would do anything to get a peek into Michael's sketchbook. He's seen some of the things he's drawn. Between paintings and drawings he's taped to the walls of his bedroom, art he's gifted to Jeremy, and the little doodles he makes in the empty spaces between his notes for class, Jeremy has seen a decent amount of Michael's work. Really, he's such an amazing artist. Jeremy is certain that if he really tried, Michael could make his own comic series!
But his sketchbooks are like these sacred things to him. Michael doesn't let anyone look inside them, and if anyone gets close when he's drawing in one, he snaps it shut. Jeremy knows that Michael's privacy is important, but hell if he isn't extremely curious to know what sorts of things Michael draws in there.
Is it practice? Doodles? Sketches? Does he draw things he sees in real life, or does he stick to characters from TV shows and movies? Does he draw heroes, vigilantes, and villains from the comics they read? Does he draw people he knows? Does he recreate landscapes?
Camila scoots a little closer to Michael. Slowly, carefully, she makes her way across the bench. Off in his own little world, Michael is none the wiser. Jeremy opens his mouth to ask what she's doing, but somehow Camila already knows that he's going to do that. She shoots him a glare, so Jeremy shuts his mouth.
Camila is able to bend over a little, likely catching a bit of what Michael is drawing.
"Ooh, he's drawing his crush!" She says loudly.
Michael's eyes blow wide, and he hurriedly slams his sketchbook closed. "No! No, I— What— Camila!"
"Hah, so you were! Lemme see!" Camila leans over the table, trying to reach for Michael's sketchbook.
"No—"
Miraculously, Michael ends up dropping his sketchbook. Somehow, it slips from his fingers, and the pages flap around before it smacks down onto the ground.
Taking the opportunity, Camila practically jumps onto the leaf-ridden grass to grab it. She snatches it up and quickly steps back, trying to hurry and get a look before Michael can get up and reach her.
As soon as she gets the sketchbook open and gets a look at a few pages, her eyes widen. She doesn't try to get away as Michael snatches it back, his whole face now a bright shade of scarlet.
"Oh," Camila says, a smirk gradually forming on her face, teeth flashing and eyes crinkling mischievously. "I see."
Michael's brows furrow. "You—"
"I?"
Something feels a bit off. Michael looks a bit more than embarrassed. Ashamed, maybe? Jeremy wonders if he was drawing something weird, or if he was trying to draw something new and it doesn't look very good. Or… could he have actually been drawing his crush like Camila said?
Does Michael actually have a crush on someone?
Jeremy… doesn't know how to feel about that.
"Oh my God," Camila gasps, her voice full of shock. "You actually have a crush on—"
Michael hurriedly covers her mouth. "Shut the hell up," he says, not much bite to his tone. Actually, if Jeremy isn't mistaken, it sounded more like fear.
Camila pushes his hand away and laughs. "I knew it."
"…Huh? Wait, you did?"
"I mean, it's kinda obvious, no? You always… uh," Camila scuffs her shoe as she glances over to Jeremy and Chase, then turns back to face Michael. "Uh, it just is. Super obvious, now that I think back on it."
"It… it is?" Michael clutches the sketchbook to his chest, a worried look crossing his face.
Something about Michael's change in demeanor must make Camila do the same. She shrugs, losing a bit of the smug attitude she just had.
"I mean, to me, at least. But it's whatever. It don't really change anything between us, y'know? That's your business, I guess. Just don't talk to me about it. I don't wanna hear it."
Wait a minute. Does this mean that Michael has a crush on Camila?
…That has to be why Michael was so scared of Camila seeing his sketchbook, and also why she has been reacting so strangely. Why else would she say she doesn't want Michael to talk about it with her? It's clear that he has a crush on her, but she fortunately doesn't like him back.
Unfortunately, Jeremy corrects himself. It's unfortunate that she doesn't like him back. Michael deserves to have his feelings be reciprocated, no matter how Jeremy feels about it.
Something uncomfortable settles in his chest. Jeremy digs his fingers into the holes of the picnic table, trying to school his expression. He can be cool. He can be so, totally cool about this. It's totally fine. It's not like his whole world is being turned upside down or anything. He's doing great, thanks for asking!
Michael huffs, his shoulders relaxing a bit. "Then why the hell did you wanna look in my sketchbook so bad?"
"Uh, confirmation?"
Michael gives her an unimpressed look.
"Eh? I can't be curious? Si tengo que (If I gotta) …"
Okay, listen. Jeremy does great in Spanish class. He's got an A and everything! He studies hard, and he pays close enough attention to what his teacher says during lessons. The thing is, Jeremy seriously sucks at listening comprehension. He can read the words he's learned just fine, but when he listens to Camila's quick Spanish and Michael's slow, limited responses, he still doesn't understand more than a few pronouns and a word or two here and there.
So when Camila switches up and Michael starts worrying at his bottom lip, fingers harshly gripping his sketchbook, Jeremy wishes now more than ever that he were fluent. He at least wants to make sure she's letting him down easy, especially since she's being so secretive.
Jeremy isn't an idiot. He knows Camila speaks Spanish when she says something to Michael that she doesn't want others to hear. Jeremy can tell, especially because of Michael's reactions or the way he sometimes looks at Jeremy afterward.
Actually, now that he thinks about it, it's honestly so cool that Michael has someone to talk to who knows Spanish. He's told Jeremy how he's scared to forget his birth mother's language, so at least he has someone like Camila to help relieve his worries.
Wait.
Wait, wait, wait…
Could that be part of why Michael has a crush on her? Maybe he wants to date someone who speaks Spanish fluently—someone who shares the same culture as his biological mom. If that's the case, Jeremy never stood a chance.
Not to mention that Camila is absolutely gorgeous, especially in the sunlight that's shining down on her right now. It does wonders for her dark complexion and curly hair that usually sits so perfectly on her shoulders. And her sense of style? Yeah, Jeremy doesn't quite match up in the looks or fashion department.
Gosh, Jeremy almost wants to switch places with her. He wants to look nice enough for Michael to want to draw him all the time. Wants to speak Spanish and be so brilliant at math that he can help Michael with his homework.
Maybe he should start to take learning more seriously. He could read ahead in his Spanish textbook, or maybe he could go to the video store or library and see if they have anything he can watch or listen to in Spanish to practice. And with math… actually he's got nothing. He already practices enough doing homework, so what else can he even do?
Jeremy feels a pat on his shoulder. He startles, turning to see Chase staring at him with a somewhat annoyed expression. Jeremy isn't sure if he's irritated because of him, or if it's just because of the heat. Hopefully it isn't both.
"Earth to Jeremy," Chase says. "Quit staring like that."
Wait, was he making a weird face? Hopefully no one realized he's a bit upset right now.
"Staring like what?"
"Uh, you were just glaring over at them."
"I was?"
"I mean, that's what it looked like."
Jeremy sighs. "Not my intention. I was just trynna figure out who Michael has a crush on."
Chase huffs out a laugh.
Jeremy looks up at him. "What?"
Chase shakes his head in amusement. "Nothing, it's just… I thought you were trying to make those two explode with your mind, and that's all you were thinking about? I mean, I don't really see Michael hanging out with any girls other than Camila, so I can't help you there."
Jeremy wants to point out that the girl Michael likely has a crush on is Camila, but he doesn't want Chase to catch wind of that assumption. He can get really annoying with the teasing after he learns stuff like this, so it's best that Jeremy doesn't say anything.
"Wait, what if it's Camila?"
Damn it. Too late.
"Who knows?" Jeremy scoffs, picking up his trash and throwing it onto his tray a bit harshly.
"Oh," Chase says, leaning on the table and turning his head to look Jeremy in the eye. "You're jealous."
"Wh— What makes you say that?" Jeremy asks, nervousness flooding his tone.
How does he know? How could he possibly know? Did Jeremy make it too obvious? Did he stare at Michael too much?
"Well, Michael's your best friend, right? And now Camila knows who his crush is, and you don't."
Oh. Thank goodness Chase is an idiot sometimes. Jeremy's secret is safe for now. He resists the urge to sigh in relief.
"Yeah," he says. It's not even a lie. "I guess I kinda am."
Michael and Camila finally come to sit back down, so Chase sits back up, dropping the conversation.
Camila doesn't seem fazed by whatever they said to one another, but Michael looks down at the table, picking at the skin around one of his fingernails—a nervous habit of his.
Jeremy seriously needs to speak to Michael the next moment they get alone. He wants to make sure he's okay. As much as he wants to be with him and make him happy, he can't be selfish. Jeremy can't assume Michael is even into guys either. That seems like some sort of happy fantasy world. If Camila makes him happy, then Jeremy will try to do what he can to either get them together or help Michael work through his unrequited feelings.
As soon as the bell rings, Michael hurries off, shooting one last glance at Jeremy on the way. His next class is all the way on the other side of the school, but he doesn't usually care about being late, so this is a bit unusual. Jeremy watches his curls blow in the breeze as the wind picks up, then wonders how Michael always looks so flawless.
"Hey, Michi," Jeremy says as he meets up with Michael by the edge of the school, right next to a large crack in the sidewalk. It's the spot they usually meet up at before they walk home together. Seeing as how they live in the same neighborhood, it's a good way for them to spend time together, at least after school. Jeremy's mom drives him in the morning on her way to work, but it would be weird to ask her not to.
'Hey, Mama. So, I don't want you to drive me to school anymore. I actually wanna walk with my crush and his snot-nosed siblings. I mean her. I mean, what?'
Yeah, he can't see it going well at all.
"Hey," Michael responds, his voice quiet. He doesn't meet Jeremy's eyes before he starts walking down the sidewalk.
Jeremy quickens his pace to match Michael's speed. "Sooo, uh. That was weird earlier. At lunch," he points out.
"Yeah. Camila should have minded her own business." Michael's grip on his backpack tightens, and his brows furrow slightly.
Jeremy purses his lips, thinking about how to respond to that.
"Yeah, yeah. Probably."
Michael glares at him.
"I mean definitely! She definitely should have!" Jeremy says, holding up his palms in a show of nervousness.
They reach the side of the road that thankfully has a sidewalk, which stretches pretty far down. Jeremy glances around. Fortunately, there are no other students walking too close to them, and no one to listen in on their conversation.
"But, uh, I don't think you should let this stress you out," Jeremy says. "I mean, if it's normal for people to write, like, poems and shit about their crushes, it's also gotta be normal for artists to draw them, right?"
Michael shrugs. "I guess…"
"Actually, I think really poorly written poetry would have been more embarrassing, y'know?" Jeremy clears his throat and dramatically raises his hand up, as though trying to hold the sky in the palm of his hand. "Oh, how fair thou art! Thou're hands hath uh— fuck, I dunno, I can't freestyle poetry."
Michael snickers and bumps Jeremy's shoulder with his own. "Clearly. What kind of poetry is that anyway? It's not the sixteen-hundreds."
"I said poorly written poetry. The sort of pretentious shit that tries to sound super old and fancy, but it's just… dumb."
"Oh, I guess that makes sense. I was thinking of something dumber. Like, it all rhymes, but the sentences don't make any sense."
"Oh yeah? Give me an example then."
"Uhh…" Michael's nose crinkles up as he thinks, and Jeremy is reminded that his best friend has the cutest freckles dotting his cheeks. "Your hair is so great, you should be my date. I want to give you flowers, I… sing in the showers."
"Wait, that's actually choice," Jeremy says in an overly shocked manner, putting his hands on the sides of his head.
Michael shoots him a skeptical look. "No way."
Jeremy laughs. "I'm just messing with ya. It was kinda hard to listen to, actually."
"Wasn't that the point? You said it had to be bad."
"Yeah, I guess so."
There's a moment of comfortable quiet as they continue walking together. Jeremy is glad that he seems to have lifted Michael's mood, but he still has more questions… Should he just ask and risk making his best friend upset again?
After a bit of consideration, Jeremy decides to ask something a bit simpler. Something important.
"So, uh, are you gonna be okay now that Camila, y'know, knows?"
Michael lets out a loud breath through his nose. "I mean, I'll live, I guess. And now that I think about it, I think she's suspected it for a while. Like, because she teased me about it in a way that was clearly a joke, but looking back, maybe she kinda knew there was some truth to it."
"Oh," Jeremy says, unsure of how else to respond.
Actually, he can't really remember Camila joking about Michael having a crush on her. He also can't remember her jokingly flirting with him or anything like that. Out of any of the guys she's had crushes on, Camila has never shown any interest in Michael. Though, she definitely made that clear by what she said earlier.
He feels a bit of a pang in his chest as he realizes that Camila must have teased Michael when Jeremy wasn't there, and it was just the two of them alone. What the heck do Michael and Camila do together when Jeremy and Chase aren't there? Do they sit close together? Do they bump shoulders or tangle their legs together like Michael and Jeremy do sometimes?
Ugh. Jeremy doesn't even want to think about it.
"Yeah… I mean, maybe it's cool that she knows, right? Now, it doesn't feel like this crazy, deep, dark secret anymore."
Weirdly enough, Jeremy wonders why Michael never shared this secret with him. They know almost everything about one another. Why wouldn't he have told Jeremy about his crush on Camila? And why hasn't he admitted to it now? Does he not want to mess up their group dynamic? Does he think Jeremy would make fun of him?
"That makes sense," Jeremy lies, then laughs as an image pops into his head. "Oh, man, you should've seen the look on your face earlier. You looked like a damn tomato!"
Michael avoids his gaze, gesturing with his hands. "That's— it was hot as balls, okay!? I was just overheating!"
"Suuure," Jeremy says teasingly. "Whatever you say."
A week later, a lot of the awkward tension between Michael and Camila has seemed to die down. By Friday, it's almost like nothing even happened.
In front of his open locker, Jeremy looks around at the materials in his backpack. He just wants to make sure all his books for the last couple of classes are correct.
Next to him, Michael is leaning up against his own locker—it's the very one he threatened a freshman into giving him at the beginning of the school year. The kid had been so startled that he didn't even fight back before agreeing to switch with Michael. It has honestly been for the best, as Jeremy gets extra time to talk with Michael before classes. Just the two of them.
At the moment, Michael is complaining about some stupid chemistry quiz he has to take later. Apparently, he didn't feel like studying last night, but he needs to get his grade up, so he's been trying to review his half-assed notes throughout the day.
Jeremy sympathizes with him. While he struggles to keep an A in classes like algebra and geometry, chemistry is just on a whole other level. It's one of the only classes he's had a C in.
Camila suddenly appears nearby, dodging a few tall, rowdy jocks who hardly even notice her in order to get to Jeremy and Michael. After glancing at Jeremy, she turns to look up at Michael.
"You know how I said I didn't wanna talk about it?"
Michael's eyes widen ever-so-slightly. They momentarily flick over to Jeremy before meeting Camila's gaze once more. "Um… yeah?"
Awkward.
"Eh, things change. I'm a new person today. How about we chill out after school, like, at your house or something?"
Michael scratches the back of his neck, fingers hidden under his long curls as he considers it. Since Michael's vest is lifted up for a moment, Jeremy gets a better look at the shirt he's got on underneath it.
Wait… that shirt is a bit familiar.
But that's not the thing he needs to focus on!
Is Michael actually going to say yes to Camila? He and Jeremy actually have plans to hit up the arcade later, and maybe they'll even stop by the comic shop if they get bored or it gets too crowded for a Friday night.
Should Jeremy tell her this so Michael doesn't have to be the one to turn her down? Or…
"You guys should hang out," Jeremy quickly says, shoving a heavy textbook into his locker a little harder than he intended. It hits the back with a bang, and he winces before swinging the door closed. When he turns back, Michael is staring at him with a… really strange expression. It's like Jeremy just told him his hair has magically turned bright green.
"But we—"
"Actually, I just got assigned a dumbass project I gotta do over the weekend," Jeremy quickly lies. "It's bullshit, but the quicker I get started on it, the better, right?"
Michael huffs, lightly shaking his head in disbelief. "Damn, do you have to do it?"
"Wh— Yes, dude! It's a project, not homework," Jeremy insists, even though he and Michael are both aware that he takes any form of schoolwork seriously.
"Yo, I didn't know you guys had plans," Camila says, looking between the two of them. "Like, it can totally wait…"
"Nah, like I said, I wanna get this stuff done with. And the library is closed on Sunday, so I gotta get started after school. But, uh… we can hang next week, right? Or maybe on Sunday, if I get this shit done early?"
Michael nods. "Yeah. Yeah, of course, dude."
"Great… um, I'm gonna get to class, so…"
Jeremy speeds away, unsure if he regrets what he just did. Camila basically just asked Michael to go with her. She's going to head over to his house, and Jeremy just let it happen. No, he practically set it up!
What kind of self-sabotage is this?
Throughout his last class, Jeremy finds it hard to pay attention. He's pretty good at English, though, and he has already finished the book they're supposed to be reading for the remainder of the period. It's easy for Jeremy to just flip through the pages, pretending to read while his mind wanders.
Michael likes Camila, not him. Camila changed her mind about not wanting to talk about it. She probably wants to give Michael a chance. Come Monday, they'll probably be holding hands or something. Or, God forbid, kissing in the halls. Jeremy really doesn't know what he'll do if he has to stand there and witness that. If he has to pretend that he doesn't have a problem with it.
Monday seems so far away, but Jeremy almost hopes it never comes.
By the time Michael sits down at the kitchen table, he's completely beat. He's not sure if he even passed the chemistry quiz he took earlier, and the idea that Camila wants to come over and talk about his huge crush on Jeremy is not making him feel any better.
He just can't get over the fact that Jeremy lied about having a project. Michael isn't stupid, and Jeremy isn't that good of a liar. Does he not want to hang out with him? Is he… getting bored of Michael?
Or did he make plans with someone else?
"Is that Jeremy's shirt?" Elizabeth asks, her voice cutting through Michael's thoughts.
He looks down to find that he actually is wearing one of Jeremy's shirts. He woke up late this morning and threw on something random, not paying full attention. Oh, no. He hopes he didn't weird Jeremy out earlier. Why is he so stupid?
"Uh… I guess. So what?" Michael asks, irritated.
"Why are you wearing it?"
"Cuz he left it when he stayed over? I dunno. Guess it got mixed into our laundry or something."
Behind his newspaper, Father lets out a small huff of laughter. Michael glances over, wondering what in the newspaper could be so funny.
Of course his stupid father would be the type to concern himself with the paper during the one night he actually eats dinner with them all. He can't even bother to join in on most of the conversation. Who the hell even reads a newspaper at dinner? Michael is pretty sure dads only do that on TV, and it's always during breakfast specifically.
Whatever. Nothing about his father will ever make sense to him, so why try and waste energy applying logic to an illogical man?
Oh. Wait. If Camila is going to visit, Michael needs to make sure everyone knows. He doesn't need them coming into his room when they're talking about something like this.
"Oh, and by the way, Camila is coming over to hang out. We're probably gonna chill in my room, so you dweebs better stay out of there. Or at least remember to knock," Michael says, glancing at his siblings.
Elizabeth rolls her eyes, huffs, and turns to face the other side of the table. "Daddy?" she asks loudly.
Father doesn't move the paper he's reading. He only lets out a questioning hum.
Elizabeth points at Michael. "How come Michael can bring over friends who are girls, but I can't bring over friends who are boys?"
"I said you couldn't bring boys into your room. Wait, what's this about Michael bringing over a girl?"
"He said his girlfriend is coming over and not to go in his room!"
Father finally lowers the paper to look at him, an odd expression on his face. "Michael, please tell me you're not getting any girls preg—"
Michael drops his fork onto his plate, and it clatters loudly. "Ew! No! God, Camila is my friend. She's like my annoying sister. That'd be… weird."
"Hey!" Elizabeth says.
Michael rolls his eyes. "Not you, I mean an annoying sister."
"Hmm. If anything, I think I should ban Michael from inviting boys over," Father notes, going back to reading.
Michael sputters. "What the hell is that supposed to mean, old man?!"
"Watch your mouth," William chides.
"Father, can I invite my friend Cassidy over next week then?" Evan asks, speaking up for the first time since he came home from school. He's hardly even eaten his food; most of it is just pushed around on his plate.
"I don't see why not."
Michael slams a hand down on the table. "Oh, what, you're shocked I'm bringing a girl over, but you're not shocked that Evan has a friend?"
Father is now hiding completely behind the newspaper, tuning them out.
"Since when do you have a friend?" Michael asks.
Evan shrugs. "Um. A while ago. We play at recess, and we talk at lunch and stuff."
"I didn't know he had any friends either," Elizabeth says honestly. "I'm just as surprised. Are you sure she's not just bullying you and pretending to like you?"
"No, she's nice, and she kicked this one guy who tried to take Fredbear from me."
Elizabeth lets out a long "oooh," then turns to Michael with a smile. "Evan's got a girlfriend!"
"I– no! She's not my girlfriend! Why would I wanna date her?"
"Oh, what, is she like your annoying sister too?" Elizabeth asks.
Michael groans. "Oh my God, I told you I didn't mean it like that."
A loud series of bangs comes from the front door.
"Miguel! Estoy aquí! Abre la maldita puerta! Migueeeel! It's raining! I rode here in the fucking rain, dude! Lemme in!" (Michael! I'm here! Open the damn door! Michaeeeel!)
William glances over and clears his throat, setting down his paper as he gets up from the table. "Right, then. I suppose it's time to get back to my workshop. If you need something, ask Michael."
"Okay," Evan says politely. "Bye, Daddy."
"Wh— But— ugh," Michael groans, then turns to glare at his siblings. "I don't care what Father said. You buttheads better stay out of my room unless it's an emergency, got it?"
"Whatever," Elizabeth says, getting up to take her plate to the sink.
Evan simply nods.
The knocking persists, and Michael rolls his eyes as he goes to get the door.