Chapter Text
It took two weeks for someone to finally take action and address the gray, oblong ghost of an elephant in the room. Jenna, who was usually the least invested in their lunchtime conversations, slammed her phone down on the lunch table and broke the tense silence that had befallen the SQUIP Squad.
“Alright, that’s it,” she snapped. “Who has at least heard from him since he got out of the hospital?”
Michael pushed the headphones from his ears—he hadn’t been listening to anything, too busy listening to the familiar scuffing of old Converse, hoping that Jeremy would show. Post-SQUIP Jeremy had abandoned him faster than SQUIPped Jeremy (but at least now Michael had six new friends to call on for help when he felt like crying alone in a bathroom).
“I went on a lunch date with him,” Christine supplied, her usually cheery face downtrodden. “We, uh, we broke up afterwards. It was mutual”
Chloe dismissed Christine’s comment with a wave of her hand. “Even if it wasn’t, that doesn’t explain why he’s missed so much school.”
Jake frowned, directing his attention to Michael. “Have you been over to his house since the whole play incident?”
Michael shrunk under the scrutiny of six gazes. No, he hadn’t. He didn’t wanted to set foot in the Heere household after everything that had happened. Visiting Jeremy in the hospital had been hard enough, and watching him ask out the girl of his dreams even harder.
“He texted me after his date with Christine,” Michael explained, fidgeting with the tattered hem of his hoodie. “After the break-up, I mean. He didn’t seem to upset.”
Rich let out a surprised squeak. “You haven’t been over to hith houth? Aren’t you two bathically fuck buddieth?”
Chloe and Jake, who sandwiched Rich across the table, elbowed him simultaneously.
“He usually comes to my place,” Michael admitted. “I let him know he’s always welcome, even after everything, and I’ve texted him a few times since, but…”
Jenna quirked an eyebrow. “Define ‘a few times.’”
Michael pulled out his phone and scrolled through his messages to Jeremy. “Twenty-seven.”
Rich whistled. “Oh, you’ve got it hard.”
Another elbow to the ribs from the people next to him. Rich grumbled something under his breath, and then took a more sympathetic stance. “Maybe he jutht needth time away from uth.”
“But away from Michael?” Brooke rested a delicate hand on Michaela’s shoulder. She let out a sigh.
Michael wanted to wrench himself away from Brooke’s tender touch; it was almost too much for him. Still, he wanted that comfort, wanted to feel grounded and safe with people who had been strangers and bullies just a month ago. He leaned into it a bit, shutting his eyes and removing his glasses. When her fingers brushed along his new patch—the gay pride patch, the one he’d been so excited to show Jeremy because that boy had stood up against the homophobia Michael faced and god it would have been adorable to see Jeremy get all blushy at Michael’s sudden decision to come out of the closet officially—he flinched.
Brooke retracted her hand as quickly as Michael had moved.
“Sorry,” Brooke said, her voice barely a whisper.
Michael retrieved his glasses, tossing his phone on the table. He glanced away from his concerned friends, ignoring the heat rising in his cheeks.
“Should we call him?” Christine asked meekly.
Michael shook his head. “I’ve tried that already. Several times.”
Jake poked at the cardboard-flavored pizza on his tray—no one had attempted to eat any food so far. “If he hasn’t replied to Michael, he won’t reply to us.”
Jenna picked up her phone again, fingers tapping away. Michael assumed, at worst, Jenna could pester Jeremy into responding. The thought made his lips twitch into a smile.
It must have been a creepy one, because Chloe eyed him suspiciously. “What’s that look for, Michael?”
The word “pester” echoed in his mind, reverberating and magnifying itself with each repetition. Whatever was going on with Jeremy, the SQUIP Squad was giving him too much leeway. Jeremy had friends, old and new, to help him through this… funk, or whatever it was.
He flashed back to the birthday no one had remembered, the birthday where Jeremy had shown up at Michael’s house, unannounced, bearing a plethora of gross dollar store candies and a rare Magic: The Gathering card.
“I didn’t have enough allowance for the good snacks,” Jeremy had said apologetically.
But Michael didn’t care that half of the candies were past their expiration dates, or that his own parents had forgotten it was his special day, or that shit he might be having feelings for his best friend who was most definitely as straight as a ruler.
Someone had remembered him.
Someone had cared about him enough to drop in without any prompting and shower him in birthday wishes and hugs and high-fives.
Someone had his back.
Something poked Michael’s cheek, bringing him back to the present. Rich leaned across the table, one finger sticking out, and he regarded Michael with a half-worried, half-amused expression.
“You trippin’ right now?” he asked.
Michael glanced around the table at his friends: Brooke, who knew just what to say to flatter anybody out of a bad mood; Jake, whose optimism had kept Michael (for the most part) distracted from Jeremy’s daily absence; Christine, too kind and loving to rightfully exist in this horrible world; Chloe, who, despite her snarky persona and the occasional rude comment, truly looked out for everyone she cared for; Jenna, the one who could make you feel better by digging up dirt on anyone else and texting endless memes from the dark recesses of the internet; and Rich, whose comic relief status did not undermine the fact that he had suffered, and could empathize better than any first-rate therapist.
These were the people Michael needed in his life, and these were the people Jeremy needed, too.
The bell rang, signifying that lunch was over. As his newfound friends crammed a few bites into their mouths, Michael finally spoke.
“Are you guys free after school?”