Upgrade (Boyf riends)

Talking it out

Jeremy's Pov
Michael continues to drag me by the arm out into the empty hall. I try to wipe my face, worrying that there will be some clue or trace of tears to point back to my crying fit.

I can't believe that I'm doing this right now.

"Did you leave anything in Mrs. Sawyers class?" He asks, turning back to me slowly.

"N-no."

Shit, I just stuttered.

I wince a little bit, bracing for impact. Usually there'd be a shock or a lecture to follow my misbehavior, but I soon realize there won't be one.

My Squip, it's not here.

I kind of forgot how it feels, not having someone to constantly attack you, not always breathing down your neck. Not always feeling bad about yourself because someone will always be there to put you down.

It's not like my squip never gave me breaks, or rather, itself a break.

But every time it was present, it felt like it was breaking me. Every insult felt like a bullet to the chest, another piece of my body being chipped away.

Its presence brought a storm. Always finding some way to tear me down when it was supposed to bring me up.

I don't think I want to go back to how that was.

"Can we go to your house?" Micheal asks, bringing me away from my thoughts.

The sun reflects in his glasses as he rotates his his body back to me. I notice that he's still holding my hand.

We're outside now?

I didn't even seem to notice my sudden change of scenery. We're in the schools back parking lot. I was submerged so far into my thoughts that my surroundings had faded.

"Jeremy? Can we go to your house?"

"Sure."

"Is your dad home? We're gonna need to take your car."

"He's not, and my cars parked back here."

"Okay, lets go. I'll drive."

•••

The silence in here is unbearable.

Michael slowly taps his fingers on the steering wheel, following the beat to whatever song is playing on the radio. He cruises slowly down the road, eyes pointed straight ahead.

He slowly stops at a red light.

The mood only gets heavier as we wait for it to pass.

"How did you know how to shut it off? My squip, I mean."

"Oh." He replies. His dark eyes align with me as he moves his head in my direction.

"My squip told me how."

"Your squip?"

A squip.