Player Three (Boyf Riends)

11

A/n: why hello there

Jeremy●°▪

I was frozen to the spot in horror.

"Leave him alone," Michael demanded quietly.

Squip looked between the two of us and pouted.  "Oh, I get it.  You like to villify me.  Sure, I'm the villain who's sole goal is to make you miserable.  But I have news for you Mr. Mell: life isn't one of your little video games with a tidy distinction between the good guys and the bad.  There's no zombies to thwart.  Jeremy hired me.  Is he satisfied with his purchase?"

I couldn't seem to make sound come out of my mouth.  I couldn't fire him.  I wasn't ready yet.

"I thought so," Squip said smugly.  "There's no protecting needed.  You're not a hero.  You're a child."

"That's enough," I stepped in front of Michael.  "You're dismissed for tonight."

Squip shrugged.  "Good luck cleaning."

After we were certain he had left, Michael and I were both deeply unsettled and began to kick people out.

We started with Rich who was simultaneously the easiest and hardest target.  I grabbed his arms and Michael took hold of his legs.  Together we managed to hoist him up and carry him up the basement stairs.  Once out of my house, I wasn't sure where to put him.  After looking around for a minute, we decided to lay him on the lawn in the hopes that he would regain consciousness and find his way home...eventually.

Next were the rest of the guests.  We turned off the music and tried to politely request for people to leave.  A handful of the more civilized teenagers agreed to leave the party.  Christine, as much as I hated to see her with Jake, actually managed to convince Jake to leave.  The rest of the highschoolers weren't nearly as courteous.  Fifteen minutes had passed with no results.  I was growing frustrated and I could sense Michael was losing his patience as well.

With no other recourse, I yelled, "POLICE!"

Everyone paused.

And then they fled.  They were gone in the blink of an eye.  Michael and I split up to double check that all the rooms had been emptied and no stragglers had managed to stay behind.  Not a single person remained.

But there was chaos and disorganization everywhere.  We surveyed the mess.  There was broken glass, spilled drinks, and crumbs everywhere.  A cigarette was still smoking on the floor.  I stomped it out and tossed it in the nearest trashcan.  The last thing I needed tonight was the house going up in flames.

We were silent as we took in the utter destruction that a highschool house party could produce.

"You don't have to stay to clean up, Michael.  I think you've earned your free slushies after everythi-"

"No," he interrupted.  "I want to help you."

"Oh! I-uh...thanks," I stammered, completely caught off guard.

It was the first real thing he had said to me since all the insulting things Squip had said about him.

I started with sweeping while Michael worked on the rooms on the second floor.  Just a few minutes had passed when he came downstairs holding three smartphones.

"Sell 'em?" Michael asked.

I nodded.  "Sell 'em."

He grinned.  "Sold to the twig in the grey hoodie!"

I hit his arm playfully.  "I am not a twig!"

He rolled his eyes.  "If you say so."

Michael returned upstairs and the only sound in the entire house was the noise of furious sweeping.  The silence was soon broken by a voice from upstairs.  "Did you have gravy at this party?"

"No, why?" I answered, perplexed.

"This stain in the hallway smells like gravy."

"That's weird."

"Who the hell brings gravy to a party?"

We burst out laughing and couldn't stop for a ridiculous amount of time.  When I finally managed to catch my breath, something occurred to me.  "Why are you sniffing the hallway stains?"

Michael seemed to consider for a moment.  "I dunno.  I was bored," he finally concluded.

"That would make an epic video game."

Michael's head poked out from the top of the stairs.  "Hallway Stains the video game? Are you listening to yourself Jer?"

"It would be super interactive.  Imagine sniffing something and then getting points for guessing what it is."

Michael was silent for a moment.  "The game is...smelling things.  Are you sure you're not high?"

"I'm high on sleep deprivation," I mumbled.

"Don't pass out on me," Michael teased.

"No promises," I yawned.  "Get back to work, stain sniffer.  I want this place to shine like the top of the Chrysler building."

I heard a sigh from upstairs and heavy footsteps descending the stairs.   Michael appeared next to me.  "No more parties for you if all you can do is recite the words of Ms. Hannigan."

I stared at him blankly.  "Who's that?"

Michael looked worried and grabbed my arm.  "No more cleaning, Annie."

I started questioning Michael's sanity.  Did he just call me by a girl's name?

"My name is Jeremy," I explained.

Michael rolled his eyes.  "I know."

"Just making sure."

Suddenly, an idea crossed my mind.  Climbing that tree had really taken a toll on my puny body and I didn't think I'd be able to make it upstairs by myself.

"Michael, carry me."

His face flushed immediately.  "Why don't you just walk?"

"No," I insisted.

"What would Squip think of you?" he scolded in return.

I crossed my arms.

"Fine," Michael caved.

He picked me up bridal style and I was so tired it didn't even feel awkward.  His arms were warm and soft.  He began to climb the stairs and every step translated to a slight rocking movement of his arms.

As he reached the second floor, I admitted, "He doesn't like the way I walk anyway."

"Who?"

"Squip," I clarified.  "Today, well technically yesterday, I did my cool walk and he said he didn't like it."

"No offense, Jer, but I've never seen you walk in a way that was cool and I've known you for like twelve years.  Honestly, it's what I...like so much about you."

I glanced up at Michael as he sat me down on the floor of my bedroom.

"Well, you put it nicely."

"What do you mean?" He lowered himself to sit in front of me.

"Squip makes it overly mean. Like, he goes out of his way to make it mean."

"Oh," Michael fiddled with the strings of his hoodie and then stuffed his hands in his pockets.  "I should go."

"Uh, okay." I stood and moved to sit on my bed.

Michael turned to go.

"Good night, stain sniffer," I called after him.

He turned his head to face me and smiled a tired half smile, "Good night, Jeremy."

I turned out the light and smiled to myself.  Something about that half smile made me really happy.   It was so Michael.  Who else would be there to buy me video games, stay after the party to help clean, carry me when I was tired, and identify gravy stains?  The answer was no one.  And maybe that's what made me so happy.