Squipped | Be More Chill

Jeremy

Christine

Sean and I go on our date (or whatever it is) on a Saturday evening in May. It's great and all, but I really, really missed theatre. I absolutely have to perform sophomore year. I won't forgive myself if I don't. 

Afterward, we're hanging out behind the building, just enjoying the quiet before we head anywhere else. It's peaceful. And romantic. 

"What'd you think of the show?" he asks me. Small talk, I guess. 

"I was jealous," is my response. 

"Me too," my date laughs. "Goddamn technology." 

"Right! Why is it so controlling?" 

"It's evil. It doesn't want us to believe it, but it's evil. Kind of a scary thought, really." 

I nod. "Hey, so what did yours look like?" 

"Keanu Reeves," he says as if everyone's did. 

"Oh my God, so did my boyfriend's!" I reply. "It's the default, I suppose..." 

"Your...?" 

Oh, shit. Shit. "Ex. Ex-boyfriend." 

"Yeah, you..." I can barely see his face in the dark, but I sense confusion, "you broke up quite a while ago, didn't you?" 

I nod. "Yeah, and he was just my boyfriend then, so..." The words tumble out frantically. We didn't even start dating until later, but what's the harm in lying to save an embarrassing moment? I get super defensive in states of panic. 

"Oh. Okay." 

"And to be honest, I'm glad I don't have a boyfriend right now. I'm... available." I move closer. 

Jesus, Christine, when did you get all flirty? I'm probably making a complete and utter fool of myself. 

"I'm glad you are," Sean chuckles. 

What the fuck. 

I'll admit I've only ever kissed one person in my life. Well, in that way, I mean, and that was Jeremy. But somehow with Sean, even though I've barely known him for real—not corrupted—it comes so naturally. 

And it's awesome. 

But I can't help thinking. This isn't what I want. 

I wish I'd never broken up with Jeremy. 

It's not the thought itself that brings me immense guilt. Hey, I get intrusive thoughts all the time. I'm used to things freely entering my mind that I'm absolutely appalled, unsettled, scared or offended by. But what brings me guilt is my reaction to this one. 

I want him back. I love him so much. 

And I think I broke up with him for Sean. 

"Excuse me," I say quietly after we basically made out behind the theatre. "I have to go." I'm about to run off, but he calls after me. 

"Christine... is something wrong?" 

"Yeah, kinda." 

"Jesus Christ..." he mumbles to himself. "Is it me?" he adds out loud. 

"It's not you, not personally." I'm on the verge of tears. "I just thought I wanted something like this. But, Sean, I'm afraid I don't." 

"You don't want to be with me?" 

I shake my head. 

And then I'm off. He's probably mad at me, but I guess I'll deal with it in the morning. 

Michael

As usual, in the afternoon, I head right up to my dorm to study or do whatever. 

But this time, there's a bit of a complication. 

"Michael!" Jeremy cries from the ground. "Do you have your key?" 

I do, but I'm not speaking to him right now. So instead I shake my head and sneak off to come in through the back door. 

"Michael, come on," I hear from behind me. "You can't just ignore me forever." 

I know I can't, but why shouldn't I? It hurts more to stay in touch. I know because I'm in touch with Rich. 

"Plus, it's super hot out here and it's just unbearable." 

His desperation tugs at my empathy, but I'm upset. It's not going to be fixed in one moment. 

"Michael. Can you please just give me a chance to explain?" 

I sigh and turn around. But I don't let him know yet that I have a key. If I had to suffer, so does he. 

"What do you need to 'explain'?" I ask reluctantly, sitting against the building beside him. 

"I only told you one of two reasons why I wanted to break up," he starts. "Maybe the second reason will... make more sense?" 

I don't want to spend the rest of my life with you. 

I've heard it before. But it'd hurt more, not less. 

"Go on." 

Jeremy takes a breath, eyes fixed on the ground. "I'm still in love with Christine. Okay? Yes, I was attracted to you—still am—but I can't seem to get over her." He pauses. 

I wasn't expecting that. "You're... you're in love with her?" 

"Remember my poem drafts? That was, what? About a week before we started dating? You could tell there was anguish there. Unsolved." 

I feel my face getting hot. "So I was just a distraction?" 

His eyes widen. "Michael—of course not! I care about you so much, and our relationship meant something to me. But I really want to be friends with you." I can see tears in his eyes. 

"I don't know, okay?" 

"That's fair," he exhales. "I'm sorry I screwed it all up." 

"Jeremy, I just need some time to myself." I stand up and haul the huge door open after managing to get it unlocked. 

As I disappear inside, I hear Jeremy shouting after me, "You did have a key! You liar!" 

I don't care. All I want is to just make everything okay. I want to go back to a year ago. Twelfth grade. I had a boyfriend, and Jeremy and I were friends with no strings attached. I was actually happy. 

Well, to an extent. 

I'm thinking of Jeremy's poem drafts at the moment. Thinking about how if you replaced Jeremy with Michael, it'd be true for both of my breakups. 

Or at least just one of them. But maybe for the other, it doesn't have to be.