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Jeremy was having a kind of bad day.
Okay, understatement. Jeremy was having a shitty day. He felt shitty. The worst part of it was that he knew there wasn’t a real reason to feel shitty. Knowing that made him feel worse about the whole thing.
Jeremy knew he hadn’t failed his math test, but he still felt inexplicably disappointed in himself after taking it. Or it wasn’t inexplicable, because he was disappointed that even if he hadn’t failed the test he was still just the worst person. Ever.
Jeremy also knew that kind of thinking keeps getting worse if one doesn’t combat it, but, frankly, the teen barely had the energy to stay awake in class, so combatting the millions of negative thoughts popping up in his mind like flies was out of the question.
Jeremy didn’t feel any better at the fact that he knew he was having an off day, and when his friends asked him about it, he probably came off defensive and rude. He kept replaying the hurt frown he received from Rich at lunch in his mind. But, whatever, the fewer people who knew about it, the less he had to worry about disappointing people.
As he was nearing the end of his walk home from school, Jeremy reached into his backpack to retrieve his house keys. He considered waiting outside his house until he didn’t have the overwhelming urge to break down crying. He’d been holding it in all day, holding it in longer just to avoid embarrassing himself in front of a supercomputer didn’t sound enjoyable.
Ah, yes. The supercomputer. The one he’d convinced to stay deactivated on weekdays unless he was at home. The purpose of the rule was to give Jeremy a mental break and privacy, along with having no pressure at school to be anyone but himself.
Unfortunately, the rule meant that as soon as Jeremy walked into his house, he would be in the presence of the Squip. There was no lying or faking smiles to the Squip. You can’t lie to me, Jeremy. I’m in your brain.
No, if Jeremy chose to enter his house, the computer chip in his brain would have a glimpse of the constant storm of awful thoughts constantly running through his mind. Obviously, Jeremy didn’t care as much about disappointing the Squip as he cared about disappointing living things, but private thoughts were private.
On the other hand, the Squip could probably violate their agreement any time it wanted. And even if it didn’t, Jeremy couldn’t stay outside forever. It was raining. Fitting, he noted.
So, after probably too much contemplation, Jeremy closed the distance between himself and his front door. The way he had to jiggle the key one way and the other to get it all the way into the old lock didn’t help his irritability.
But as expected, the door opened, and Jeremy entered his home. He rushed to slide his backpack off and let the heavy object drop onto the floor. He kicked it, then beelined to his bedroom. The urge to curl up in blankets and sob immediately overwhelmed him.
After kicking off his shoes urgently, Jeremy jumped onto his bed and burrowed in, making himself a cocoon of blankets. The cries came out freely, and he let them. Hot tears quickly wet his cheeks and sheets. His entire body moved with the rocking sobs.
Once he’d retrieved tissues from his bedside table and the worst, most intense part of the storm had passed, Jeremy sat in his blanket cocoon. He gently rocked with the tissue box clutched in his hands, whimpers still rhythmically escaping his trembling lips, but at a much quieter volume than before.
It was then that he was reminded why he had been reluctant to enter his house. His eyes drifted towards the corner of his bedroom, where he could hear the soft whirring of a computer.
Jeremy groaned in annoyance, then sniffled. “How long have you been there?” He asked miserably.
“If it makes you feel better, only about ten minutes. My noise suppressors only work so long or I wouldn’t have disturbed you at all.” The Squip replied, its tall figure uncharacteristically slouched against the wall.
If Jeremy didn’t know any better, he would almost say the Squip appeared to look...awkward. Was that even possible? Was he making the Squip uncomfortable?
“I’ve seen you masturbate, Jeremy. Don’t flatter yourself.”
“Didn’t ask you.” Jeremy muttered before grabbing a tissue, using it, and tossing the crumpled ball at the Squip.
The Squip dodged the projectile, as expected, but only looked increasingly uncomfortable. It was kind of creeping Jeremy out.
“Dude,” Jeremy addressed, “Cut that out. You’re making me feel weird.”
“The feeling is mutual.” Came the reply, snarky as usual except for the clear hesitation. After a pause, the Squip continued, “You are, after all, crying relentlessly. In a pile of blankets. Surrounded by used tissues.”
“Yeah, you know you could just shut off at any point,” Jeremy said before retreating further into his blanket cocoon. “Considering how awful this must be for you.” He added sarcastically.
The teen sniffled, settled comfortably into the blankets, and tried to hold in the urge to continue crying. He absolutely despised holding in that specific urge, especially since he’d been doing it all day. However, now that it felt like there was someone watching him, he couldn’t help but feel the need to cover up.
Even if that person wasn’t even really a person. It was a supercomputer that was a total dick sometimes and super judgy. Why should Jeremy care?
The Squip broke its silence. “I apologize if I made you feel uncomfortable, Jeremy.”
Jeremy didn’t respond. Fair enough. The teen instead opted to try breathing deeply, because that’s what his therapist told him to try, but damn Jeremy really wanted to keep sulking.
“You can cry as much as you need to,” the supercomputer added hurriedly, cool composure barely there anymore, “I was just feeling useless for not administering a proper treatment for what you’re going through. My apologies. Continue sobbing if you wish, please.”
Jeremy couldn’t help but snort at the Squip’s stupid nervousness. “Okay, apology accepted,” he said, voice muffled by blankets, “On one condition.”
“Which is?”
“Don’t ever be polite again. It’s not natural. You’re going to give me nightmares, Squip,” Jeremy joked, voice lacking the humorous tone he was going for.
“That’s unreasonable,” The Squip responded, “Part of our agreement is—“
“Shut up,” Jeremy interrupted with a chuckle, feeling a little less like crying and a little more like throwing more stuff at the Squip.
The Squip, obediently, said nothing in return. A silence fell between the two until Jeremy once again piped up from beneath his mound of bedding.
“Actually, I have two conditions now,” Jeremy announced.
“Really?” The Squip suppressed an indulgent grin, despite not currently being visible to Jeremy, “Care to explain?”
“What was that ‘administer the proper treatment’ shit? Do that, that’s the second condition. Is it drugs?” The words tumbled out of Jeremy’s mouth in a barely cohesive jumble.
Luckily for both Squip and Jeremy, the supercomputer was exceptional at processing his thoughts and speech. Possibly because the Squip was implanted in his brain.
“I’m not giving you drugs, Jeremy,” The Squip replied flatly.
“Uh, the condition is administering the proper treatment. You’re basically violating a condition,” Jeremy reasoned, voice still muffled by blankets.
“The proper treatment isn’t drugs. And if you want it administered, you have to come out of that ridiculous pile of blankets,” The Squip reprimanded sternly, “You’re going to overheat at some point.”
After some consideration, Jeremy sighed in exasperation and poked his head through Mount Blanket.
“All the way, Jeremy.”
Jeremy’s red, puffy eyes glared up at the supercomputer, but he let go of the blankets he had been clutching. They fell from his shoulders to the mattress.
Overwhelmed by the lack of heat, Jeremy hunched his shoulders inwards. “Now,” he whined, desperate to return to his bundle of warmth, “You’re being, like, a huge dick right now.”
The Squip refrained from commenting on Jeremy’s impatience, instead sighing in agreement. It slowly approached Jeremy, cautious to not appear to eager or intimidating. It could already feel the anxious vulnerability Jeremy was feeling and didn’t intend to make that any worse.
“Squiiip,” Jeremy drawled, dramatically collapsing onto his back.
Frustrated, the Squip rolled its eyes and managed to pounce onto Jeremy’s bed.
Jeremy glanced up in confusion, then surprise. “Oh. That’s aggressive.”
“You’re impatient and petulant,” The Squip replied, then, upon seeing Jeremy’s face fall, it added, “At the moment. And understandably so.”
Jeremy grinned softly, “That’s kind of you.”
“Stop talking,” The Squip said uncomfortably, clearing its throat. “Sit up.”
Jeremy snickered, appearing to have figured out himself that the Squip’s idea of proper treatment didn’t involve drugs. He pushed himself up, eyes dry instead of watery and red, and haphazardly tossed himself forwards.
The Squip grunted when his teenager fell onto him, but nonetheless sighed heavily and wrapped its arms around him. It readjusted Jeremy in its grip, because he was kind of hugging the Squip around his stomach and, frankly, it couldn’t be comfortable for either party.
Jeremy wasn’t much help, but did take the liberty of tucking his face against the Squip’s neck. He took a deep breath, feeling an immense amount of tension leave his body.
The Squip smiled as Jeremy slouched his hunched-up shoulders. Hesitantly, it started rubbing small circles with its hand on Jeremy’s back. When Jeremy made a small noise of contentment, the Squip continued, synching its simulated breathing with Jeremy’s real breaths.
It was only when those breaths slowed considerably into a steady rhythm that the Squip realized Jeremy had dozed off. Okay, technically the Squip had noticed it, but it hadn’t actually considered what it was going to do about it.
Once again, the Squip sighed, only this time it turned into a soft chuckle. The Squip brought a hand to Jeremy’s hair and ran it lightly through his curls. “Feel better, Jeremy.”