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

Chapter Eight: Pillow Forts, Clingy Jeremy, and Toasts

CHAPTER EIGHT

   Almost immediately after the SQUIP's exit, Christine had talked everyone into a movie night to pass the time ("Classic sleepover style!"). The second it was suggested that they all sleep in the living room, every pillow and blanket Jake and Brooke could get their hands on were dragged out to build a makeshift pillow fort.

    "We're not seven," Chloe attests. "Come on Chlo, lighten up!" Jake says, reinforcing the first wall. Brooke nudges her, giving a small smirk, pillow in hand.

    "We can be the queens of the fort," she sing-songs. Chloe rolls her eyes, but can't force herself to stop smiling or say no to Brooke's 'convincing evidence'.

    "As queen, I decree that you all have to clean it up in the morning," Chloe is entirely grinning now, picking up a sheet to begin building the roof. "Deal!" The rest of the room yells in unison.

    While the fort slowly became more and more elaborate, Jeremy stood off to the side, not knowing how to include himself. Seeing everyone so excited, so proud, so happy that they fixed his problem, made his aching feeling overcome any attempts to swat it away.

    "Jere?" Michael had been helping pick out the movie before noticing Jeremy's face. He throws Christine the remote, jogging over to the other side of the room where Jeremy stands. "What's the matter?"

    "Nothing!" Jeremy answers too quickly for Michael's liking. He studies himself for a moment, glancing up in the process. Maybe it's just Michael, but he takes in how his eyes are easy to fill with worry. "I, uhm, hate that you're taller than me now," he jokes.

    "Other than that, dude!" Michael furrows his brows, placing a hand on his shoulder. After twelve years of friendship, it's really easy to read a lie on the other's face. However, that ability is entirely removed when your face is hidden behind your own. Michael had never realized how hard it was to read his face, a stark contrast to Jeremy. While everything else was easily hidden, anyone could tell if the taller boy was scared or worried.

    "I-I'm just... tired," Jeremy doesn't do a good job assuring Michael. Moving away from his touch only adds to the worry.

    Meanwhile, Jenna snaps a picture of the completed fort. It was pretty impressive (read: still standing upright), couch cushions being repurposed for walls and tacky throw blankets covering the top and sides. Rich already sits inside, fluffing up approximately twenty pillows. Under any other circumstances, Michael would've appreciated it a lot more. He's about to go admire it when he remembers that Jeremy's 'tired'. He settles for his best possible option: help Jeremy with whatever he says the problem is rather than obsess over what he's not telling him.

    Michael flops down onto the loveseat, the only seat still harboring its cushions. He pats the space beside him, a stolen bedsheet in hand. "Okay, go to sleep," That earns him a questioning glance from his buddy, who still stayed glued to his position.

    Chloe dims the lights as the TV begins to play some cheesy rom-com (the only movie Jenna and Rich could agree on). The dark atmosphere and hushed voices causing a true wave of fatigue to hit Jeremy. He reluctantly falls onto the loveseat, leaning against Michael and placing his cheek onto the red hoodie sleeve. Michael whinces, "Wait!"

    He pulls the glasses off Jeremy's face, gently tossing them over to the coffee table. Jeremy gives a soft "oh" and buries himself under the cover of the bedsheet.

    He falls asleep halfway through the opening credits.

     Opening credits become ending credits and the opening credits of a new film became ending credits again, the TV blaring an overused pop song as they roll. The room is even darker now, and unnaturally silent for the group of rowdy teenagers they are. A quick glance at the clock tells Michael that it's 1:46 AM.