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“Hey, Jeremy. Got a pencil I can borrow?”
Jeremy looks up from the spot on the desk where he’s doodling. The incredibly punchable face of Jake Dillinger—or Jakey Dickbag, as Rich had newly named him—is staring right back at him, as he’s turned around in the desk in front of him.
Unbridled rage bubbles just beneath the surface. Luckily, Jeremy’s good at hiding it from those who don’t know any better.
For so long, he’s been so jealous of this guy. There hasn’t been a moment in the entire time he’s known Jake where he hasn’t been jealous of him. The whole thing with him and Christine last year only sparked the jealousy, and now his whole endeavor with Michael and making excuses to treat him badly has riled up Jeremy plenty.
Of course, Jake doesn’t know they’re not on good terms. He doesn’t know about that now-justified hatred. In fact, all he knows is that Jeremy is Michael’s quiet best friend. He doesn’t know Jeremy at all. They’re classmates, they’ve known each other since seventh grade, but they’re just acquaintances—nothing more.
In reality, Jeremy doesn’t know him either. Jake is just some guy.
But he's a guy who has no idea of all the hurt that Jeremy knows. A guy who is the subject of many bad stories, who has hosted many memorable (for all the worst reasons), shitty parties, and who has weakened Michael to where he’s starting to become unrecognizable due to all that newfound sensitivity.
Jake is a guy who, time after time, continues to harm the people Jeremy loves—and all he wants from him is a pencil.
Crap. “Uh, yeah,” says Jeremy, all soft-spoken and not an ounce of anger present in his voice. “One sec.”
For a moment, he digs through his backpack, and sure enough, there it is; an object of one-sided solidarity. God, he’s so annoying. Can’t even be prepared for class.
Ignoring his own shaky hands, Jeremy pops back up to hand Jake the pencil, and Jake smiles at him, ill intentions nowhere to be found.
“Thanks, man.”
It’s enough to make Jeremy feel sick.