Chapter Text
This was it.
It was high school graduation day. The Middleborough class of '19 would be leaving and would never come back. They were off to do other things now; to get a job, to go to college, to get married, to do whatever it was that high school graduates did.
And Jeremiah Heere was experiencing the elation of never attending any of those exhausting courses again. All while staying right next to his best friend, Michael.
Only mere hours left until the weight would be lifted off their shoulders.
"It's- it's here," Jeremy says, slightly breathless as he digs through his dresser. "We're actually- actually graduating." It appears like he's discovered what he's looking for since he pulls a ball of fabric out and closes the drawer. He goes into the drawer below it and pulls out another ball of the same material before depositing the clothes on the bed.
Michael hums as he sifts through the lowest drawer, saved for his things since he tended to forget a lot of things at his best friend's house. He also seems to have found what he was looking for as he lets out an "Aha!" while triumphantly holding up a shirt. He sets the attire on the floor before shrugging out of his current shirt and replacing it with the cleaner one.
"It's- it's all gone so fast I-"Jeremy goes silent for a moment, staring at the objects on the bed. "Do you-do you miss it, Mikey?" He turns around to face his friend just as Michael's head pops out of the shirt.
"Not really. That place was hell," he says absentmindedly. "Are you gonna-" he cuts himself off and gestures to the clothes on the bed. That snaps Jeremy out of his trance.
"Uh, yeah." He grabs the clothes and walks into the bathroom next to his room. He set them down on the counter before glancing at his reflection in the mirror. For once, he couldn't really criticize himself. Except for the fact he still looked a little too feminine for his taste, there wasn't much to scrutinize over. He lets out a sigh before slipping off his shirt and taking off the sports bra underneath.
One thing that he loved about the placement of the mirror was that it never seemed to show him what he didn't want to see. It wasn't too high, but it wasn't particularly low, either and unless he was trying to make himself taller, he wouldn't have to look at the things on his chest. Another plus with that was that he could fantasize about not having to wear binders anymore. He could stand there and pretend he wasn't about to put on an article of clothing that would eventually crush his ribs or something that would only heighten dysphoria. It almost always made him feel a little better. Then, he turned away from the mirror and picked up his binder, inspecting it for a moment before slipping it on. After that, he changes out the rest of his clothes, throwing the dirty things into the laundry. Then, he moves to the other things, like brushing his teeth.
When he steps back into the bedroom, Michael is kneeling next to his bag, looking for something.
"What are you looking for?" Michael doesn't look up before letting out a hum and continuing to dig through the bag. Jeremy steps closer, trying to get a better look inside the bag, but Michael huffs and closes the bag, pushing it away before he can.
"It doesn't matter. It's not in there anyway," he says, getting up. He sighs again before speaking. "It'll probably show up later."
Jeremy's father suddenly sticks his head in, causing the two of them to look his way. " You boys ready?"
A few minutes later, they're on the road. Er, rather they're on the sidewalk, making their way towards the school, bags on their backs.
It all felt weird to Jeremy. They'd spent four whole years, ten hours a day, in a large brick building. And now, they'd be moving to another building to spend even more time.
And then there were a lot of things that might happen before then. He might lose his scholarship, he and Michael might drift apart, or a bunch of other things might happen. And now Jeremy was panicking a little.
"You okay?" He looks up and over at Michael and sighs.
"It's just...It's a lot, that's- that's all." Michael frowns but ultimately lets the topic go and starts talking about something else. Jeremy only pays half a mind to it, electing to think about other things, even though it would probably work him up even more.
Then suddenly-
"JEREMY!" Someone's yelling, and he actually starts paying attention to his surroundings, but it's already too late. He's being shoved out of the way by Michael and-
He freezes up, staring at the scene. Even as he feels an urge to throw up, he can't look away. He just stares at the scene, at Michael, not moving, not even daring to breathe and hoping the entire thing was just a dream-
"-id?" Someone is speaking to him but there's a ringing in his ears, and he can't focus cause Michael is right there and he looks horrible and Jeremy can't breathe.
"-id!" Now someone is telling him to breathe, but he can't, not when he can see Michael being carried away, not when he can still see blood, not when he knows it's his fault-
"-ame?" A woman is kneeling next to him now, speaking to him. Or, at least, trying to talk with him.
"What?" He can hardly feel his mouth move as he talks, but thankfully he hears the woman's question.
"Can you tell me your name?" He looks over at her, and the first thing he sees is tired blue eyes a couple of shades lighter than his own. He also notes how kind she looks. She was probably overworked. Then she's aking him again, and he realizes that he's been spacing out.
"I-It's Jeremy," he says, still struggling to breathe a little but ultimately doing better.
"Jeremy, do you have a last name?" The two of them are sitting at a table from a nearby cafe now. Jeremy was struggling to remember when exactly they moved.
"Heere." There's a strange recognition in her eyes when she hears the name, but the emotion is gone in seconds.
"Is there anyone you can call to come and get you?" He suddenly feels bad that she's over here, helping him when she could be helping people that were actually hurt. He shakes his head anyways.
"Do you mind if I walk you home?"