When you buy a Squip!- Michael/Jeremy (Part 2)

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Sup my dudes! Part 2 is actually here within a couple of days! Surprising, eh? Please enjoy! 

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I see a doctor pretty quickly. She cleans up the cuts, and luckily only one or two require stitches. She calls my parents almost immediately. 

They arrive by the time they (the hospital staff, I mean) have just finished stitching the last cut. Ma rushes over and tackles me in a hug, resting her head on mine and sniffing my hair as if it is her oxygen. 

"Oh Mikey," she whispers as she sees the straight lines of neat cuts going up and down my arm. My father hangs a little further back. Jake and Rich left once the doctor came, presumably to find Jeremy. 

"I'm sorry, Ma," I say, my voice trembling as I gingerly hug her back with my uncut arm. "This is all my fault." 

"Oh baby, it's not your fault," she coos, leaning back and resting a hand on my cheek. I unconsciously gravitate towards her. "None of this is ever going to be your fault." 

"Why didn't you tell us, son?" my father says from in front of us. 

"I didn't want to worry you," I reply sullenly. "You already had enough on your plates without me adding to it." 

"We'll never not have enough room for you, sweetie," Ma exclaims, kissing my forehead before moving back towards my father. He wraps his arms around her, tenderly kissing the top of her head. I imagine Jeremy and I in that position, and tears burn at my eyes. I look down quickly. 

The doctor comes forward, taking a thermometer and sticking it in my ear. It beeps and she glances at it. I don't know how she has enough time to read the numbers. 

"100.8," she announces. "It's a little high." 

She gives some antibiotics right here and now in a Calpol-like situation (but not as awesomely-tasting as Calpol, if I'm honest), and we leave with an imminent check-up to sort out antidepressants and an upcoming therapy session. Ya-a-a-ay! I leave with my parents, but my mother insists on sitting in the back with me, stroking my hair and softly crooning at me. 

"Stop, Ma," I snap. She retreats, looking like a kicked puppy, and I start the backpedal. "Sorry, but... y'know... I'm not feeling too hot right now." 

That doesn't soothe her, just makes her more hysterical than before. 

When we reach my house, Rich is waiting outside. I know it's him immediately because of his short stature and the streak of crimson in his hair. Who else would it be? I spy the blood on his vest and I wince. I jump out the car and run over to him. Like, literally run. My hoodie, which I'm still wearing, by the way, flaps out a little behind me. I'm anxious to get away from my worrying mother.

"Hey, dude, you okay?" he asks as soon as I reach him. "They stitch you up?" 

"Yeah," I reply, but I refuse to show him the stitched-up remnants of my shame, embarrassment and fear. 

"Look, I talked to Jeremy," Rich says just as the Squip appears. 

"Make it seem like the worst decision in the world," the Squip interjects, scratching the back of his head. 

"Why did you do that!?" I whisper-yell, giving Rich a small shake with my uninjured arm. "I didn't want him to know about... y'know!" 

"I didn't tell him anything too drastic!" Rich exclaims, shrugging me off but still looking at me with that annoying pitiful look. "Just about the cuts..." 

"What happened?" I whisper after a pause, my heart beating wildly. 

"He seemed kinda shocked," Rich admits. "Froze for a few minutes then ran off." 

"You show him the pictures?" 

"That's the only thing I showed him. Or said to him, for that matter. Just walked up to him and held the phone out to him." 

"And he just ran off?" 

"Yeah. Weird, huh?" 

Ma approaches us, wrapping an arm around me. I squirm. 

"Who's this?" she asks, being noisy as always. 

"Rich Goranski," Rich says before I have a chance to introduce him. "I found him in the bathroom and took him to the hospital." 

Before Rich knows what's happening, my Ma has tackled him in a hug. 

"I thought Jeremy picked him up," my father says, coming out of the car. The mere thought of Jeremy brings tears to my eyes. Rich notices and breaks away from my mother, leading me into the house and down to the basement. It's the only place he's ever been in my house. We all played truth or dare together about a month ago there. 

"Seriously, though, what did they do?" Rich asks, sweeping back his hair as I collapse onto the ancient couch. 

"Stitched them up, gave me a follow-up appointment and a therapy session," I answer, feeling uncomfortable. Well, uncomfortable times a million. "Why are you so interested?" 

Rich squirms, but before he can say anything, Jeremy appears from the shadows just like in the movies, except it isn't a movie. Real-life Jeremy Heere, the boy I've been in love with since the first moment I met, is standing in front of me. Alone. No Christine. Just him and me and Rich at my side. 

I feel my breathing get erratic and quick as I stumble upwards, facing Jeremy with my fists clenched. 

"So you finally decided to show up, eh?" I say, and I am surprised at how hard and emotionless my voice. "Wanted to come and see my misery so you have something to talk about on your next date?" 

I spit out the last word as tears begin to fall. Jeremy seems shocked: well, what I can see through the blurry tears and my crap vision as I pull my glasses off and dry my eyes on my blood-stained hoodie.

"M-me and Christine broke up a week ago," Jeremy says quietly. I look up, surprised. 

"Wh-what happened?" I ask. "Why didn't you tell me?" 

"I didn't know how!" Jeremy replies. "Then Rich told me that you were in the hospital and I realised... I realised..."

"I'm gay!" I blurt. Jeremy just shrugs.

"And I'm bi," he replies. "Welcome to the gay circle."

"What did you realise?" I ask, my voice quiet and deep as I move towards him.

Then he lunges forward and kisses me.

I'm not expecting it. My eyes widen, but soon I realise what is happening and start to run my hand through his hair, the other hand resting on his back. And I kiss him back.

His mouth tastes different to how I expected: he tastes of chocolate and Doritos and... just Jeremy.

"You have no idea how long I've been waiting for that," I whisper as we break apart, resting our foreheads together. Jeremy just nods. Rich squeals and pumps his fist in the air.

"I have completed my goal," the Squip says suddenly. I shift my eyes to look at him. He looks almost proud. Not of himself, either. He looks proud of me. "Shutdown initiated. Just remember what I said, Michael. You may experience some discomfort in the form of a migraine, but I won't come back. I promise."

I nod a little. It's almost unnoticeable. The Squip smiles and nods at me before disappearing into himself. I hear a small click.

Pain shoots at my temple, almost knocking me off my balance. I break away from Jeremy, groaning as I collapse back onto the couch and screw my eyes shut.

"You okay?" Jeremy asks worriedly, sitting next to me and stroking my hair. It's comforting. I like it from him, and I lean towards him.

"Migraine," I whisper. Rich flicks the lights off, and it's a little better.

"Just sleep," Jeremy mumbles, letting me lie with my head in my lap.

I think everything's okay now.

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Okay, so there was originally gonna be a little more but I cut it out. Hope you guys liked! Peace out!

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