My player 2

Chapter 2

    The bell had rung for lunch. Jeremy grabbed his red backpack, stuffing his notebooks and pencils into it. He rushed out of class, desperate to catch Michael. What was he going to say to Michael?
This single thought caused him to stop in his tracks. Jeremy needed to know what to say. He couldn't just stand there like some lost child, looking for his mother, yet too timid to speak up. 
    Jeremy thought, and thought, and thought. Maybe... "Michael, I came to apologize-" Jeremy groaned, running his hands over his face, making him look like the Scream painting. "Damnit Jeremy, that's not it." "Hey, Micheal. Look, I don't know what got into me-" No, it still wasn't good enough. Jeremy began pacing in the men's restroom. Time was running out for lunch, only about 43 minutes left. "I don't deserve someone like you, but please Michael, please, forgive me." That's it. Jeremy has it. He snatched his backpack, swinging it onto his shoulder (hitting a stall door in the process) and began his journey to the lunchroom.
   On his way there, he kept repeating what he was going to say, perfecting it, no stuttering, no awkward pauses, only perfection. The doors of the cafeteria stood before him, like two iron golems only allowing those worthy to enter...and whoever could open the door. Jeremy took a shaky breath, he was prepared.
Stepping into the cafeteria was always anxiety inducing, yet this was on a WHOLE different level. Scanning his eyes across the war zone. His eyes spotted the blue and white backpack belonging to the one and only Michael Mell.
   "Michael!" Jeremy started pushing his way through the crowd. That earned him grunts and some awfully cold stares from those he may or may not have shoved out of the way. His heart was pounding. For something that was so small, he was so worried. Yet, he knew what he was going to say, and after Michael yelled at him, they would be friends again. Closer, closer, closer still. Michael was right in front of him now. Jeremy tapped his shoulder. God, it was wonderful that Michael was going to go back to talking to Jeremy. He didn't realize how lonely he'd be if Michael wasn't around. "Hey Michael." No response. "Michael?" Michael turned around to face Jeremy. "M-Michael?" Jeremy was met with this detached look, something that caused a shiver to run through his spine. Jeremy continued. "Michael, you have every reason to be mad at me-"

"Get out of my way"

    Jeremy was taken aback. "W-what?" Michael's eyes were filled with something. Something Jeremy couldn't recognize. "I said. Get. Out. Of. My. Way."  With each word he said, the venom dripped heavier and heavier. Michael shoved Jeremy down. No words leaving either of their mouths. Michael felt this unbridled anger, seeping through his blood, making him think of horrid things. This is what Jeremy deserved. Did Jeremy thought he could just waltz his way back after what he did? Michael gave a breathy chuckle from that thought. Jeremy looked up at Michael, too dazed to stand. Michael turned from Jeremy and walked out of the cafeteria.
    He walked away. Jeremy remained on the ground; why did Michael walk away?  Suddenly laughter filled the cafeteria. "Shit" Jeremy completely forgot that he was here, then again, he also thought that Michael would have talked to him. "The fucking nerd got rejected by his 'best-friend'!" Rich. Always Rich. Jeremy shook his head, as if it would stop that terrible noise around him. He stood up, wiping the dust off his jeans and hoisted his backpack onto his shoulder. He wasn't going to eat today. Making his way through the crowd, his emotions started to catch up to him. Out of the cafeteria doors, the scornful laughter muting itself, the emotions overtook him.
    They were so much worst then Friday. He was sobbing, the ugly cry you do when you're completely broken down. He gripped his shirt, his left-hand finding placement in his hair. He gripped it tighter and tighter. Why wasn't it going to stop? "Michael..." Jeremy called out his name is hope that he would come back. Jeremy knew better. "Michael..." Again. Jeremy's back slid against the doors of the cafeteria, his head resting on his legs, the fabric of his jeans becoming soaked with his emotions dripping out-gushing out of him like a broken dam. The lump in his throat caught. He let out heaving breaths, the air failing him. "Michael..." Why did he have to do something so stupid? Jeremy couldn't hold it in. He let it out, the emotion he's been suppressing for so long. He was drowning, gasping for air, snot running down his nose, he wiped it off. He was screaming for help, yet no one heard him. Why can't anyone hear him?
    "Michael." Jeremy, why? Why do you keep calling for him? "Michael please!" His voice was broken. He was helpless. "Michael!!" That piercing cry turned everything silent, Jeremy screamed it. He couldn't hold it anymore. They heard him. Jeremy covered his mouth. "Oh god." He quickly picked himself up, his bag finding a rapid solace on his back. He had to get out of here. People were coming out of the halls and from the doors behind him. They were looking to see who let out that hair-raising scream of such agony. The bathrooms. He pushed past people, trying to find the farthest one. He wanted to be alone.  His face was red, his nose irritated, eyes puffy. He looked like hell. Honestly, didn't he just come back?