GAME OVER: a Be More Chill fic

Level 14

I should just skip lunch, thought Jeremy. I can't face Michael again after that.

"Yes, you can, and you will. Trust me. Favorable outcomes are quite likely this time."

Jeremy glanced down at his bag again, not caring how suspicious that must look during a math test. He couldn't concentrate anyway -- he couldn't seem to keep his mind off the can of soda inside. He briefly wondered how Michael could've possibly found out, but came to the conclusion that since they'd been friends for over a decade, Michael must've pretty much had his behavior pattern memorized by now.

Guilt crept back into his mind. They'd been best friends for almost thirteen years, and Jeremy had tried to throw it all away over a crush?

Though, to be fair, it was a crush he'd had and suppressed and tortured himself with for years. Maybe Michael would be quicker to forgive him if he knew that.

His mind shifted to consider what he was going to do about about all this. Drink the soda? Save it? Obviously he wasn't planning on keeping the Squip forever; he had to drink the stuff eventually. But when? Now? Tonight? After he won Michael back?

"Well, Michael knows, so you can't wait for long. If you don't drink it he'll take offense," said the Squip. Jeremy jumped -- he'd forgotten for a moment that the Squip was there. And he was surprised at how emotionless the statement was. The Squip wasn't trying to convince Jeremy to keep him, like he did last time Mountain Dew Red came into the picture. This was uncharted territory. Don't you care that I'm thinking about shutting you down?

"I told you, my primary purpose is to achieve the goals you set. Last time, in order to reach those goals, it was essential that you kept me. This time it is essential that you remove me. Seventy-two percent, by the way," he added.

Jeremy wrote the answer for problem number fourteen. Thanks. But when do I do it?

"Not now," the Squip laughed. "The screaming would be quite disruptive during a test -- I doubt your teacher would appreciate it." He leaned back in his seat, the one right behind Jeremy, putting his feet on the desk. "You have to talk to Michael at lunch. The two of you will figure it out."

Jeremy nodded and turned back to his probability-and-statistics work. Number fifteen looked easy enough. Don't give me this one, I've got it.

The Squip smiled. "Let me know if you need help."

Jeremy glanced back, maybe to thank him, but he was gone. Okay, concentrate.

He most certainly could not concentrate. All he could think of was Michael and Mountain Dew.

The Squip materialized beside him, cross-legged on the floor, smirking. "Yeah, I figured as much. Four point two."

Jeremy jotted this down gratefully. He looked at his bag again, then the clock, then back to his paper. Two minutes until the end of class.

The Squip cleared his throat dramatically and flew through the math problems. "Seventeen and a half. Five hundred twenty-five percent increase. Sixty-nine. Stop laughing. Eight percent decrease."

They rushed to the last question and brought the paper up to the teacher just as the bell rang, along with most of the other students. As he navigated the crowd, Jeremy was still debating whether or not to hide in the bathroom all period or actually confront his problems. It didn't matter, of course; he knew the Squip would probably make him see Michael anyway.

"Bingo," the Squip confirmed. "I can still control your movements, if necessary."

Jeremy rolled his eyes, accepted his fate, and followed the waves of students making their way to lunch. He wasn't hungry -- and with the way his stomach was twisting at the thought of more confrontation, eating wouldn't have been a good idea anyway -- so the Squip directed him straight to Michael.