Chapter Text
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Check!
Great! Jeremy had fulfilled his one duty in the brownie-making operation. He stared at the red numbers, his finger hovering over the START button.
What if it wasn’t 350? What if it was 375, or 325? He should double-check, right?
He should double-check.
“Hey Christine, do you have the recipe with you?”
“Yup!” Christine called from her station on the kitchen island. She was already cracking eggs over a bowl filled with sugar and melted butter. “It’s right here on my phone.” She motioned towards it with her chin.
“I thought you said you knew the recipe by heart.”
“I do! I just like to have it here, just in case.”
Jeremy smiled. That was such a Christine thing to do, memorizing texts and leaving the texts within arms-reach, regardless of her impeccable memory.
“How much should I preheat the oven to again?”
“Three-fifty.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
Jeremy placed his arms behind his back and slowly made his way to the kitchen island, innocently eyeballing Christine’s phone. “Still,” he said, smirking, “I should double-check, juuuust to make sure-“
“Jeremy, I already told you, it’s three-fifty. Don’t look at my phone!” She would snatch it away, but she didn’t want to dirty the phone with her fingers, now tainted with a thin, thin layer of egg white.
“Too late!” Jeremy said, snatching the phone in his own hands. He scrolled through it until he found the direction: Pre-heat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. “Cool.” He placed the phone back, then slid over to the oven, his socks gliding pleasurably across the smooth kitchen tile. Finally, he clicked the START button. The oven came alive with red light, and its interior began to glow with warmth.
Jeremy went back to the island, and picked a spot across Christine. He looked at her station. Everything was set neatly, each item two inches apart, not too far, not too close. Everything was pre-measured, a task she finished before he had the chance to take off his shoes. She really did have the brownie making method memorized.
“I’m glad you’re doing this.”
“What, making you brownies?”
“Yeah, well. I mean, no. You’re making Michael brownies.”
Christine’s eyebrows raised, though her eyes stayed steady on the bowl of brownie batter before her. She was already whisking the batter to perfection. “These are for Michael?”
“Yeah, they’re for his birthday. He doesn’t really like cake, he’s more of a brownies guy, especially when they have-“
“Wait, wait. Wait.” She stopped her whisking to stare at him. “It’s Michael’s birthday? I thought his birthday was-“
“March 7th, yeah. But he keeps figuring out my surprises before I have a chance to show it to him! So, I’m definitely gonna surprise him this time. We’re gonna celebrate it early, and he’ll never see it coming!” Jeremy smacked his hands together, rubbing them up and down against each other. He would look cunning, if he didn’t look so dorky.
Christine laughed, her laugh coming out in a soft snicker. She went back to whisking, and asked, “When are you celebrating? Tomorrow?”
Jeremy blinked at her. He frowned. God, she was gonna freak.
“Today.”
She let go of the whisk, smacked her hands against the island countertop, and looked at him with wide, frantic eyes. “Today!?”
“I’m sorry! I thought I told you!”
“No, Jeremy, you didn’t tell me, because I would’ve written it down, and I would’ve bought him a present, and I- Why didn’t you tell me?!”
Jeremy shielded himself from her wrath. She was a teeny, tiny person, but the shorter the person, the less diluted their rage was. He knew Christine wasn’t angry, though. She was masking worry with a thin cloud of anger, concentrated mostly on cherry red cheeks.
“I thought I did,” Jeremy repeated. “I’m sorry, Christine. You really didn’t have to get him anything, anyways.”
Christine inhaled deeply, and went back to the task at hand. She grabbed the buttered, parchment paper lined eight-by-eight pan and began to fill it slowly, meticulously, with brownie batter. Jeremy watched with careful eyes. His brow was sweating under Christine’s heavy silence.
“Christine-“
“He already doesn’t like me, Jeremy,” Christine sighed, scraping at the last of the brownie batter from the mixing bowl. “And now that I didn’t buy him a present- I didn’t even dress properly for this event-“
“Whoa, Christine, wait,” Jeremy said, walking over to her. He looked at her, eyebrows furrowed in concern. Christine kept her gaze on the brownies. She smoothed out the top of the batter. “What do you mean, Michael doesn’t like you? Of course Michael likes you!”
“No, he doesn’t,” she mumbled, low. “I can tell he doesn’t.”
“Michael is like, the chillest guy I know. Why would he hate you?”
“That’s just the way he is with everyone, though! It’s like a barrier, you know? He’s super laid-back and mild-mannered because he doesn’t want to get any closer with me.”
Christine began to gather up all of the dirty bowls and spoons, stacking them on top of each other. She could feel Jeremy’s gaze on her, waiting for her to keep talking. Elaborate.
This had been something that had been bugging her for quite some time. She hated that Jeremy’s best friend wasn’t her friend. It felt like she couldn’t be close with Jeremy, like it wasn’t allowed, because Michael didn’t approve. It was like a prerequisite. Without fulfilling such a prerequisite, she was destined to slip away from Jeremy.
“Sorry,” she muttered, turning on the water. “I didn’t mean to say all of that, I just… It sucks when someone’s best friend doesn’t like you. His opinion just… means a lot to me, that’s all.”
Before Jeremy could say anything, the oven beeped. 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Check.
“Could you, uh, put the brownies in the oven. Please?”
“Sure,” Jeremy said. He carefully grabbed the pan of brownies and walked them over to the oven. After placing them inside, he set the kitchen timer.
“Was it thirty minutes?”
“Yeah. Twenty-five to thirty minutes.”
He set it for twenty-seven.
“I’ll make the frosting right now, then I’ll head out.”
Jeremy swiveled on his heels to turn to her. “Wait, no, Christine. You have to stay! Hang out with us!”
She grabbed the kitchen towel and wiped her hands with it. “Jeremy, I didn’t even get him a present, and I’m not dressed-“
“We’re just pigging out and playing videogames. That’s all,” Jeremy said firmly. “Please stay, Christine. It’ll mean a lot to me.”
Christine looked up at him, at his sad, puppy dog eyes. Damn it, why did she look at them? She already knew they always reeled her in.
“Fine, I’ll stay.”
“Yes!” Jeremy cheered. He even pounded his fist in the air. Christine snorted.
“Dork.”
“Jeremy!” Jeremy’s dad called out. “Michael’s here!”
He pulled the door open, and Michael stood before it, his hands gripping at the straps of his backpack. “Hey, Mr. Heere.” His eyes went straight to his jeans. “Nice pants.”
“Hi Michael.” He stepped aside, letting Michael into the house. “You don’t have to say that every time we see each other.”
“Sure I do,” Michael said, and pointed at the stairs winding up. “He in his room?”
“Yep, go on ahead.” He walked off back to the living room. “Happy Birthday, Michael,” he threw the phrase over his shoulder.
Michael gave a confused grin. “Thanks? You… you too.” He ran up the stairs, skipping two at a time. Glass sounds tinkered from his backpack.
“Jeremy!” Michael shouted, almost singing his name. He decided to sing it the second time. “Je-re-my He-ere! Guess who’s he-ere!”
His door was closed shut, which was kind of weird. Maybe he was jacking off? Then, should he knock?
Nah!
He twisted the door knob and threw Jeremy’s door open. “Michael’s here!”
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”
Jeremy and Christine jumped up and threw tiny, confetti filled balloons into the air. There were blue and red banners strung throughout Jeremy’s room, and it was actually clean for once! One of the balloons hit Jeremy’s ceiling fan. The loud smack made Christine and Jeremy jump back.
Michael laughed, dumbfounded. “What the hell? It’s not my birthday!”
“That’s the surprise!” Jeremy said. His voice cracked at the end; he was excited as hell, and clearly proud of himself. Michael grinned. He couldn’t stop grinning.
“You’re amazing.”
“Wait!” Jeremy exclaimed, holding out his hands. “Wait. Hold your compliments. There’s more.”
Jeremy scurried over to his closet door, and began to rummage. Christine watched with bright eyes. She loved it; she loved how cute Jeremy got with Michael, how much his love and friendship spilled from his proud grins. Christine looked over to Michael, who’s eyes kept steady on Jeremy. Christine tried smiling his way, hoping he’d look at her and maybe smile back. He didn’t. Christine’s smile faltered.
Was he trying not to look at her?
She should try talking to him. Christine opened her mouth to speak, but then Jeremy was shouting, holding a poorly wrapped box in his arms.
“This is for you!”
Michael’s eyes were full of stars. “You got me a present?!”
“Duh I got you a present!” Jeremy placed the present on the edge of his bed. Christine stepped aside, allowing Michael more than enough space to feel comfortable opening his present. She didn’t want to hover too closely. She already felt like an outsider to this celebration.
She really should have left after she finished making the brownies.
Michael tore off the Christmas wrapping off the box. “So, this is kind of like an extra Christmas present?”
“It’s your birthday present.” Michael pouted. Jeremy sighed. “I’ll get you something else on your actual birthday.”
Satisfied, Michael tore through the taped box and fumbled past heaps of foam peanuts. When he saw it, he squealed. He literally squealed. Christine covered her lips to hide her smile.
“YOU GOT ME. THE PIKACHU EDITION. N64.” Michael stared at it with wide eyes and a slack jaw. The blue plastic of the system, the lack of dust in the air vents. Pikachu, grinning at him, with red cheeks he knew lit up once he turned on the system via the pokeball on-and-off switch. He dug further and found two controllers, and three games. Hey You! Pikachu, Ocarina of Time, and Majora’s Mask.
He looked up at Jeremy, and he was teary-eyed. He could honestly spill into full out sobs.
Jeremy stared back at him with a huge grin. He was waiting for a response; his cheeks hurt from how happy he was.
“I LOVE IT!” Michael stepped over Jeremy’s bed, leaped off, and threw himself into Jeremy’s arms. Though caught off guard, Jeremy managed to catch the bundle of love and energy without falling back onto the ground. He may or may not have thrown out his back, though.
Michael hugged Jeremy, squeezed the life out of him, even. He was like a koala bear, hugging and hugging and laughing from how happy he was. He couldn’t believe it. An N64! Pikachu edition!
Michael pulled away from the hug. “Where did you find this?!”
“My cousin sold it to me,” Jeremy said, setting his friend down. “Thirty bucks.”
“Oh man,” Michael laughed. He snorted, even. “What a dumbass!”
“I know, but I’m not about to tell him that. Let’s play!” Jeremy looked over at Christine. She was peering hesitantly into the box. “Do you wanna play, Christine?”
Christine’s eyes shot up, surprised. “What? Oh, uh, no thanks! I’ll just watch you guys.”
Jeremy shrugged. “If you’re sure.” He grabbed the box with the N64 and headed towards his TV. “We made you brownies, Michael, if you want.”
“Brownies?!”
“Oh, yeah!” Christine said, turning towards Jeremy’s study desk. “They’re right over here.”
“Are these-“ Michael paused, for dramatic irony, “-special brownies.”
Jeremy snorted. “No. Christine made them. She’s never touched a weed in her life.”
Michael looked at her with eyebrows raised. “Really?”
“Yep!” Christine placed one hand over her heart, and the other palm raised. “Never touched a weed.”
“Well…” Michael reached for his backpack. “I could always initiate you,” he said, and from his backpack, he pulled out his bong.
“You know, I was the one who got Jeremy to smoke his very first weed.”
Christine smiled. “I’m not surprised.” Whether Jeremy smoked or not was kind of a guessing game amongst most people. Some guessed that, yes, Jeremy smoked, because he had regular access to weed via Michael Mell. An equal amount of people guessed that, no, Jeremy Heere, perfect attendance shy guy Jeremy Heere, would most certainly never, ever smoke weed, despite being so close to Michael. Christine didn’t really care either way.
“I remember that day,” Jeremy said. He was plugging the N64 into a wall adapter. “I ended up getting too high so I fell asleep wearing three of Michael’s hoodies.”
“I still need those back, by the way. One of them was my Smash Mouth hoodie.”
Jeremy groaned. “Don’t remind me.” He clicked his TV on and flourished at it with a wave of his hands. “She’s ready.”
Michael gasped deeply, one that came from his excited rib cage. He snagged three brownies from the pan and practically threw himself onto the bean bag chair. Jeremy occupied the one next to him, a motion as natural as breathing, as running fingers through hair.
Christine hung back. She grabbed a brownie and sat uncomfortably on the farthest edge of Jeremy’s bed.
“So, you two lovebirds planned this together?”
Jeremy groaned again. “Dude, stop calling us that. ‘s embarrassing.”
Michael chuckled. “I know it is. That’s why I call you guys that. Lovebirds.”
“For three entire seconds,” Christine piped in.
“It was two weeks, guys. And those two weeks meant a lot, fuck you guys.”
Both Christine and Michael fell into a small fit of laughter. The sound of it, of their comfortable laughter mixing together, made Christine’s chest feel free, no longer tight and tense. He was warming up to her. A bit.
“What are we playing first?” Michael asked.
“I figured we could play around with Pikachu first. To honor him and his system.”
“Yes, of course. Do you guys have water?”
Christine reached over the side of the bed and pulled at a small cooler. She opened it, grabbed three caprisuns, and nudged it shut. “Here.”
Michael peered back at her. “Sweet! Caprisuns, brownies, and weed. When can we smoke?”
“In a few,” Jeremy responded. His attention was mostly on the screen. “Wait until my dad passes out watching Cutthroat Kitchen, or whatever it is he watches.”
Michael hummed his response. He, too, became extremely interested with the title screen. The introduction of the game would be easy enough to get through. It only really got fun once they unlocked the first set of mini-games.
Christine wasn’t sure what to say. She felt heavy there. Her breathing made too much noise. She felt far away, yet distinctively there, taking up space.
She felt pressured to speak. To be interesting. “Hey, are you guys going to Chloe’s party?”
“Chloe’s throwing a party?” Jeremy asked.
“Yeah! I mean, normally Jake throws the first party of the school year, but since his house burned down-“
“I can’t believe you still hang out with them,” Michael said.
“With… Chloe?”
“Chloe, Brooke, Jake, all those guys.” When he listed off their names, he sounded annoyed. His tone belittled her.
“They’re fun to hang around,” Christine responded softly. She defended herself, but it was a weak defense.
“You hang out with Rich,” Jeremy said. Christine smiled, glad that he was defending her, too.
“That’s different,” Michael said. “Rich is actually a pretty nice guy.”
“Who’s to say Jake isn’t? Or Chloe?”
Michael stayed silent for a while. “Whatever.”
The two went back to their game. Christine stared at her hands.
Welp. That conversation failed. She almost sighed, but she didn’t. She didn’t want them to know how out of place she felt. She peered back at the box Michael’s present was in.
“Can I look at the other games?”
An entire ten seconds passed before one of the two boys snapped out of their video game haze to answer Christine. “Yeah, sure,” Michael mumbled. “Where’s the mic?”
“Oh shit, right.” Jeremy stood from his beanbag chair and went over to the box. Christine watched as he shuffled through the packing peanuts. He pulled out a thin, tiny microphone that looked more like a pencil than a microphone. He fished out two cartridges and handed them to Christine.
She held the two cartridges. She had never owned an N64. The last videogame console she owned was a navy blue DS, with Kirby Super Star Ultra and Nintendogs. She could probably still find it, if she searched deep enough through her attic.
“Majora’s Mask.” The cartridge was golden, and the sticker on it was holographic. Kind of tacky.
“Maybe it’s haunted,” Michael said.
“Why would it be haunted?” Christine asked. “Do N64 games regularly get haunted?”
Michael and Jeremy exchanged looks.
“You mean, you never heard about Ben?” Michael turned his body to look at her. The fact that neither of them were interested in their video game was interesting to Christine.
She raised an eyebrow. “No, never.”
“Oh man. Can’t believe you don’t know Ben,” Jeremy said.
Christine stared at them. “Who’s Ben?” She felt like there was no Ben. But she really wanted to know.
“Ben’s this kid who lived on my street.” Michael broke off a piece of his brownie and popped it in his mouth. He spoke around it. “He drowned.”
“He drowned?”
“Yeah, but no one knows if it was a suicide,” Jeremy said. “His dad could’ve drowned him.”
“Or that old dude.”
“Right, right.”
“What old dude?”
“Well,” Michael began. “My brother knew this guy who loved video games. He had an N64, like this one, except not as cool, obviously. Anyways, he went garage sale hunting, looking for games, and this old guy had a bunch of weird shit littered around. Like, obscure paintings and weird drawings. The old man had this foggy eyeball, like he was blind.” Michael pulled down the skin around his right eye. Christine grimaced.
“The old man had a couple N64 games,” Jeremy continued. “Including that one.” He pointed at the game Christine was holding, golden with a holographic image. Tacky. Christine flipped it over in her hands once more.
“Specifically this one?”
“Hopefully not,” Michael shuddered.
“He had a copy of Majora’s Mask,” Jeremy said. “And Michael’s brother’s friend was stoked, because Zelda N64 games are super good finds at garage sales. And the old man gave it to him for free! So, he took it home, and he started playing.”
Michael, again, took control of the narrative. “There was already a save file on the game. It was Ben’s, the kid who died. Except, he didn’t know he died yet, he just thought maybe it was the guy’s grandkid or something.”
“It could be the guy’s grandkid,” Jeremy said.
“Right! Anyways, he made a new file and started playing. But the game started glitching out on him.”
“It would call his character Ben,” Jeremy said.
Then Michael. “So, he deleted the save file.”
Then Jeremy. “But it kept happening.”
Then Michael. “They kept calling him Ben.”
“That’s creepy,” Christine mumbled, slowly placing the cartridge aside. In that moment, she had entirely forgotten that this story was more than likely false. But then again, maybe it wasn’t.
Michael smirked. “It gets worse. They would call him Ben, or sometimes, they would call him nothing. And then, as he was trying to finish the game, it glitched out on him again and sent him to the final boss area. One of the enemies, this like, creepy scarecrow looking guy, was just staring at him, floating above him. Nothing else would happen. The guy would move his character around, but the enemy’s eyes would just follow him, and he still wouldn’t do anything.”
“Since the game was glitchy, he was going to turn off his console and just restart it,” Jeremy explained. He paused, licking his lips, wiping his palms on the knees of his pants. “But then this dialogue pops up, and it’s not supposed to pop up. It’s like, the game was trying to talk to him, telling him not to restart his game, to just give it a try.”
“The game teleports him back to the main town,” Michael said. “And the town was all glitchy. Parts of it were missing, literally replaced with void space, and the towns people were all gone. The town is usually full of life but it was literally dead and decaying, and it’s not supposed to be like that. It usually plays this upbeat song when you enter the town, but instead, it was playing this other song, the Song of Healing, but it was playing it in reverse, so it just sounded… jarring.”
“It constantly felt like something was going to pop out at him but… it never did.” After Jeremy said this, Christine felt her back go rigid, her spine turn to ice. She picked at the back of her hand with the stiff ends of her fingers.
“And then this statue started following him around,” Jeremy continued. “This statue is supposed to pop up when you play a song on your ocarina, but it was just popping up on his own, right behind the character. The statue looks exactly like the character, except lifeless and artificial and dead.”
“It started chasing him around,” Michael said. “He’d step forward, and the statue would reappear right behind him, following him.”
Christine did not want to be sitting next to that cartridge. But she didn’t want to seem ridiculous by standing up, sitting somewhere else, or pushing the cartridge under a pillow. Out of sight, out of mind. She felt like something was behind her, or somewhere, anywhere. Watching.
Jeremy spoke. “He eventually wound up with Skull Kid again. That scarecrow guy. And so he tries shooting at him, with his bow and arrow, but the scarecrow guy doesn’t like that. So he throws his character up in the air, sets him on fire, and he dies.”
“And no one’s able to do that, by the way,” Michael said. “No one’s supposed to be able to just lift you up and set you on fire. That’s not a move in the game. The scarecrow guy doesn’t really do much to you in the first place! But now, he’s watching you, attacking you, setting you on fire without even touching you.”
“Guys,” Christine said, finally standing up. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”
“Yeah,” Jeremy said. “Even retelling it is pretty freaky. Jesus.”
“Right,” Michael agreed. All three of them felt heavy, surrounded by thick air. “Let’s keep playing with Pikachu.”
The two boys returned to their game, silently immersing themselves back to the intro of their Pokemon game. They were still somewhat detached from it, though. They were trying not to think about Ben, and just by trying, it wasn’t working. It was there, behind them, running fingers through their hair. Tugging at one strand. Was that for real, or did they imagine it?
Christine took this chance to slide the cartridge away from her. She felt uneasy, and she knew why. She wanted to know what happened.
“So,” Christine finally broke the silence, “What happened to him. To your brother’s friend?”
Jeremy and Michael looked at each other. They paused the screen.
Together, they told her the entire story of Ben. How he was trapped in the game cartridge, how he spread onto his brothers “friend’s” computer, how he communicated with him. They told her everything, and then offered to show her the footage of the haunted game.
“No thanks,” Christine laughed nervously. “I’m already going to be nervous on the drive home. I feel super creeped out!”
“I know,” Jeremy agreed. “We read this story years ago and it still freaks us out.”
“You read it?” Christine asked. She pointed at Michael. “I thought your brother knew him.”
Jeremy and Michael exchanged looks again.
Busted.
Jeremy: you home yet?
Christine: yeah, made it home! i literally ran inside and up to my room so fast, you wouldn’t believe.
It was nearing 11 pm. She was wrapped tightly under a blanket, squeezing a plush toy lady bug to her chest. She had the tv on, so that she wouldn’t be alone in the loud ambient noises of her room that would only attract her mind towards thinking more about Ben.
Jeremy: sorry we freaked you out :/
Christine: no, honestly, it’s fine!! it was actually pretty interesting. it’s fake though, right?
Jeremy: i mean, sure? honestly, I buy it
Christine: really?
Jeremy: i buy it! it creeps me out way too much for me to deny its existence. it has an effect on me. its gotta be real
Christine: thanks Jeremy. i was trying to convince myself that its fake, but now, i can’t even do that!
Jeremy: sorry :/
Jeremy: but hey!! do you think still think michael hates you?
Christine: yeah
Christine: i mean! It’s not that he HATES me. it’s that, you know, he doesn’t LIKE me. he would rather not hang around me, but he has to, because of you. i don’t want to be dead weight to him.
Jeremy: im sorry. I mean, i never saw it that way. i guess he just needs more warming up to
Christine scrunched up her nose. She rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling, her lady bug plush now resting on her stomach. She’d started hanging out with Jeremy last semester, during the fall. They really got close in November, after the play.
After they dated for 2.5 seconds. She grimaced.
Anyways.
After the two of them realized that, no, they weren’t as deeply in love with each other as they thought, the two remained friends, and ended up being really good friends. Christine was surprised how well they clicked, how much she enjoyed Jeremy’s company and how much he enjoyed hers. It was different when they were “dating”. There was a pressure there, as if they had to like each other, and they had to be around each other every waking moment, even if they didn’t want to. That pressure made things uncomfortable, like they couldn’t be themselves. When they “broke up”, that weight was lifted, and they could be goofy with each other, and stupid, and hang around and playfully punch each other and not feel like any of it was a romantic gesture because, well, it wasn’t.
And it’s not like she started liking Jeremy even more when she decided he was just a friend, and not a boyfriend. The feelings felt exactly the same. She had just confused them for romance. Kind of silly, really.
She would even consider Jeremy her best friend. So, it absolutely sucked that Michael didn’t really like her. The three of them had hung out together a max total of three times. Maybe.
Once, Jeremy was hanging out with her, and Michael called him.
“Hey!” Jeremy had answered with such an enthusiasm that it made Christine grin.
“Yo! What are you up to?” Christine could hear Michael ask.
“Nothing. I’m just with Christine,” Jeremy responded.
“Oh. Alright, sorry to bother you. Talk to you later.”
“O-oh, alright? Bye.”
How could Jeremy not see it? How could he be so blind? If Michael honestly liked her, he would’ve asked to join them! He would want to be around both of them! But no, he never insists on hanging out as a trio. It always had to be the duo.
And she gets that! She understood, completely, that sometimes, you want to hang out with just your best friend. But the fact that he never tried hanging out with her and Jeremy proved to her that Michael didn’t exactly like her.
It was now January. Two months since she and Jeremy started getting close. 68 days, roughly. How could he not be warmed up to her by now?
Christine rolled onto her side, hugging her lady bug plush close to her chest again.
It was be fine, though. She was determined to get Michael to like her. She was determined to befriend Michael Mell.