Looking Into Your (My) Eyes* -BE MORE CHILL

Chapter Two: Breakfast, Bobby Pins, and Hoodies

CHAPTER TWO

    School, huh?

    Neither Jeremy or Michael thought that could happen without ending in misery.

    "Ugh, come on, y-you heard your dad," Jeremy groaned, "We got ten minutes to...get...d-dressed..." He trailed off, and proceeded to dramatically flop over face-first onto the mattress with a louder groan.

    In said face plant, he forgot he had Michael's face, and, therefore, his glasses.

    "OW!"

    "Dude," Michael winces, very familiar with the feeling of those things digging into his face, "If you break my glasses, I swear to god,"

    "Argh, they're fine," Jeremy pulls them off and inspects them. "Wow, you really can't see for shit, man!"

    "They're not a fashion statement, Jer. And you able-visioned people don't know how good you got it," Michael replies with a laugh. Jeremy only waves him off and stands up again.

    "So!" Michael continues, "School?"

   "How are we gonna get dressed?" Jeremy squeaks.

    Michael occupies himself by rummaging through Jeremy's dressers and pulling out a faded Star Wars t-shirt. "How we normally do? I have a change of clothes in my backpack. Ehrm, you take the bathroom. I still gotta find myself jeans that'll fit."

    "They're all gonna fit, Michael. They're mine." Jeremy says with a reddened face and a scoff, Michael's backpack in hand.

     "Oh! Right."

    Jeremy pauses before entering the bathroom, trying to hide his embarrassment. He doesn't do that very well.

    "Come on, dude! Like we haven't seen each other's junk before."

    "We were six!" Jeremy shuts the bathroom door behind him mid-sentence.

    "Stop making my voice crack!"

    Jeremy scurries out the bathroom to see Michael wearing Jeremy's practically trademarked jeans, shoes, and navy cardigan, (not to mention his physical form). That throws him off for a second, understandably so. But he's thrown for another loop when Michael has his hoodie, his red hoodie, halfway on him. Michael doesn't have it over his head just yet, thin arms hopelessly flailing to get through the now extremely oversized sleeves.

    Wow, I really AM a beanpole.

    "Mikey, you can't wear the hoodie!"

    "Huh?" His head pops into view, and Jeremy sees that his headphones rest around his neck, too. Michael dismisses his worry with a halfhearted thumbs-up. "Pssh, I'll take it of in the parking lot. Stop worrying, Jer-Bear! That won't do us any good." Jeremy only pats his shoulder in acceptance and leads them both to the bedroom door.

    "And," Michael adds, reaching his arm upwards, pausing as if to say "Oops," and then swings it back downward to meet Jeremy's shorter shoulder, "It's not like I'd go to school without my hoodie, right?"

    The two waltz out the door.

    Right.

   "Okey-dokey, boys, I got toast n' scrambled eggs!" Mr. Heere yelled into the hall, coffee in hand and his mood from earlier infinitely lightened.

    "What're we gonna do about your dad?! He knows you as good as I do!" Michael whisper-yells as they enter the living room, swiping up Jeremy's backpack from the dining table.