Be More Chill Oneshots

SQUIPs suck, okay!?!- Michael/Jeremy

"Jeeeerrreeeeeeemy.... I'm still here, y'know. You can't escape me foreveeeeeer!"

Jeremy gritted his teeth as he reached into his locker, searching desperately for his English assignment. He didn't need another detention, not now. His dad would kill him. In a way, Jeremy sort of preferred it when his dad took no interest in his life at all. Hey, at least he wears pants around the house now.

"Shut up," he hissed as quietly as he could. There was a sharp pain in his temple, and he glanced to his side to see the hazy blue hologram of the Squip. He was glitching horribly, but his mouth was contorted into a scowl, and his arms were crossed over his chest. Even Jeremy had to admit, though, his hair was as perfect as ever.

"Can't you just leave me alone?" Jeremy muttered, slamming his locker shut and heading down the hallway to the cafetorium where he knew Michael, incredibly awesome Michael Mell who was always there for him, was waiting.

"I can't leave you alone, I'm inside your brain!" the Squip complained in an almost whiny voice, trailing after him. Jeremy did his best to ignore him- no, it, if he gave it a gender it was only humanising it- but it just kept jabbering on at him, pain stabbing at his head every time.

"GOD, JUST SHUT UP!!!" he finally screamed, wheeling round to face the glitching Squip. He could feel everyone staring at him, but he honestly didn't care anymore. "JUST PISS OFF, SHUT THE HELL UP AND LEAVE ME ALONE!"

"Jeremy?"

The Squip smirked, gave a cheeky wave and disappeared.

In dread, Jeremy turned slowly around. He already knew who it was, of course. He'd recognise that voice anywhere. Almost 10 feet away, Michael was stood. His headphones were slung around his neck and he was wearing his signature baggy red hoodie. His hand was out in front of him, as if he didn't want to get any closer in case he was attacked. He looked terrified. That's the only way Jeremy could describe his expression. Jeremy stared blankly at his best friend since kindergarten for a moment or so before dropping to his knees and burying his face in his hand. His backpack, still graffitied with BOYF dropped to the floor with a crash. 

In an instant, Michael was by his side, an arm round his shoulders, begging him to tell him what was wrong, but Jeremy just couldn't bring himself to say anything as he began to quietly sob into his hand.

"C'mon, Jer, I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong," Michael begged. He was so close that Jeremy could hear the reggae music faintly blaring through his headphones. A bell rang in the distance and people began to disperse, throwing strange looks their way, but neither of the two boys moved an inch. Shaking his head, Jeremy sniffed feebly, feeling very cold all of a sudden.

"I'm fine," he managed to stutter out after almost 5 minutes of Michael pleading with him, his teeth chattering violently.

"You are not fine," Michael shot back sharply, gently bringing his best friend's face out of his hands and pressing the back of his hand lightly to the other's forehead. "Jeremy Heere, did you come to school sick again?"

"What!? No!" Jeremy yelped indignantly, finally sitting up a little more and turning to look at Michael. His eyes were red and puffy, and his nose was dribbling a little. "The fucking Squip must be messing with my internal thermostat."

Oops.

Michael's mouth fell open and Jeremy felt the arm around him stiffen, but to Michael's credit, he didn't pull away.

"It never really went away, did it?" Michael finally said after a couple of minutes of processing the new information. His tone was hard and emotionless.