GAME OVER: a Be More Chill fic

Level 9

(A/N: I've been waiting for this moment the entire fic.

LEVEL NINE --
THE CAFETORIUM!!!!)

Jeremy took his tray back to the table. Thankfully, Brooke had a different lunch period Wednesdays, so Jeremy sat beside Michael at their usual spot; no matter how counterintuitive that seemed, The Squip had explained that since they'd been sitting together for years, suddenly breaking the pattern would be too suspicious. So he was told to sit next to Michael, but avoid talking to him as much as possible. "Don't worry," the Squip had said. "I'll take care of everything."

The parallel to Michael's own words was not lost on Jeremy.

The plan went fairly well, with Jeremy focusing his attention on Rich most of the lunch period. Of course, Jeremy couldn't actually focus -- his mind was on Michael the whole time. But the Squip stood behind him and told him exactly what to say to convince Rich he was listening.

Michael is looking at me. Is he about to say something?

"It doesn't matter. In a moment, say 'I completely agree' as if Rich had just pointed out that the sky is blue," the Squip instructed.

Jeremy only caught this much of Rich's story: " -- and so I said, that is not how you win an argument. The best thing to do at that point is to just give in and buy the fuckin' hamster wheel."

"I completely agree," said Jeremy, nodding solemnly.

Michael seems upset. I'm making him sad -- I can't keep doing this.

The Squip reassured him. "It's for the best, Jeremy. I promise. The next time Michael speaks, ignore him."

I can't.

"Trust me."

...I can't.

Right on cue, Michael spoke up. "I'll be right back, guys, I have to go take a break from binding. Sorry, my back is killing me."

"No problem, man," said Jeremy, waving goodbye as he watched his friend cross the cafetorium. He couldn't help but smile as Michael entered the men's room -- he remembered how hard it was to convince the principal to let Michael transition at school. Jeremy had helped him win that fight, helped him write emails to his teachers telling them to correct his name on their roster, and helped him pick out an all-new wardrobe as soon as he'd come out. Jeremy was fully supportive, although Mr. Heere was still unaware. He had to be. If Jeremy let anything slip, he'd never be allowed to --

"Ow!" Jeremy's thoughts were interrupted by a shock to the back of the head.

"You good, man?" asked Rich.

"Yeah. Funny bone," Jeremy echoed from the Squip.

"Sorry, I had no choice," the Squip sighed. "You have to pay attention to me; I was instructing you and you were oblivious. I'll repeat myself. When Michael returns, don't make eye contact. Remember, the aim is to make him crave your attention."

But I crave his attention.

"You're going to have to... how do I say this delicately... suck it up, buttercup. It'll be worth it later." He looked up. "Here he comes. Remember, no eye contact."

Jeremy obeyed this time, barely glancing up at Michael as he returned. This is torture, Jeremy whined. His eyes are too pretty to not look at. I feel like I already forgot what they look like.