1.

"Come on, Jeremy!" Michael ran as fast as he could around the metal poles of the playground, trying to keep ahead. "You can't catch me!" He looked back to make sure Jeremy was following him, and he was, stumbling around, running after Michael as fast as his short legs could carry him. Michael ran faster. If Jeremy caught him, he'd be "it"! Michael didn't like being "it".

"I'm gonna get you!" Jeremy squeaked from behind. He was gaining on Michael, desperately grabbing for the air in attempts to tag his best friend. Michael had to do something quick - Jeremy was getting closer and closer and he was getting tired. Thinking quickly, Michael decided to run out of the playground area and into the surrounding grass. That way, he could do more sharp turns and jumps to throw Jeremy off without being in danger of hitting a pole. (He'd broken his glasses the last time he did that and cried for an hour.)

"Bleh!" Michael said, sticking out his tongue to taught Jeremy. He jumped over the small brick barrier that separated the gravel playground from the surrounding park, but Jeremy was so going so fast, he didn't see it coming. Michael heard a yelp from behind as Jeremy tripped and fell face first into the ground. He halted and turned on his heels when he heard Jeremy start crying.

He was on the ground, holding his knee, which was skinned from the impact and bleeding slightly. Michael didn't hesitate to sit next to his friend and hug him as tight as he could. Jeremy didn't stop crying, but he started to calm down a bit, leaning into Michael and sniffling away his final sobs.

"It hurts, Mikey," Jeremy whispered. "Can you get my dad?" Michael looked over at the bench where his moms and Jeremy's dad were sitting and saw them already digging through their pockets for band-aids, running over towards the two boys.

"They're comin'," said Michael. "I'm not leaving." He squeezed his best friend tighter. He was never going to leave Jeremy's side.

"You're touching me," Jeremy giggled. "That means you're "it" once we start again."

"No fair!"

2.

Jeremy was over playing Smash Melee with Michael, but he wasn't doing well. That was to say, he was doing even worse than he normally did. Something was off. After several rounds of silence, Michael had had enough and paused the game.

"What's wrong?" he asked. Jeremy looked bewildered.

"Nothing's wrong… why'd you pause it?" Jeremy said. He was clutching the ends of his sleeves, a nervous habit of his. He was definitely lying. Michael gave him a look, and Jeremy sighed, knowing that Michael wasn't going to drop it. "I didn't sign up for the play."

"What?" Michael dropping his controller and scooted closer to shake his best friend. "Are you serious? It's all you've been talking about!" Jeremy wouldn't meet his gaze and started shaking slightly.

"I j-just… I can't do it, Michael. Not in front of all those people…" Michael felt a pang of disappointment rise in his chest. He had been really proud when Jeremy had first brought up play auditions - he knew that if Jeremy tried it, it would likely give him more confidence and soften his fears of public speaking. He felt the skinnier boy's shoulders begin to subtly shake up and down as Jeremy quietly sobbed.

"It's okay, Jer," Michael said. "You have two more years of middle school to do the play. Besides, 6th graders hardly ever get leads anyway. You'll kick ass in it next year for sure." That stole a tiny smile out of Jeremy. Michael beamed back and kicked up his controller, gesturing to the TV. "So, up for another round?"

3.

"Do you think I'm ugly?" Jeremy asked, looking up at the ceiling of the dark basement as the clock hit 2:00 am.

"Hm?" said Michael.

"Do you think that's why I've never had a girlfriend? I hate my stupid acne, man. And I can never get my hair to look nice," he sighed. "I always look like a slob."

"Woah there, buddy," Michael said. "You just spiraled into self-deprecation at record speed. That's dangerous, you know." Jeremy didn't say anything. Michael squinted to try to see Jeremy's face, but it was a futile quest with the lights off and his glasses lying who-knows-where. "You're not ugly, I promise."

"Thanks, Mike." Jeremy didn't sound like he believed him.

"I'm serious," Michael said, sitting up. "Where are you? I can't see shit."

"By the couch." Michael stood up and made his way over to the dark outline on the other side of the room. He could hear Jeremy breathing. He sat down next to his best friend and gently grabbed his freckled face to examine it more closely.

"You're not ugly, man," Michael said, taking in the sight. "You're really good looking. You have terrific bone structure." Jeremy snorted at that. "I'm serious! You'd never need to contour. And your eyes are super pretty too. They're heartbreakers, bro. And I didn't even mention your cute-ass freckles."

"I didn't-" Jeremy took a deep breath, shaking his head. "I didn't know you thought I was… good-looking." Michael rolled his eyes.

"I'm gay."

"Well, I didn't think I was your type!"

"Goodnight Jeremy!"

4.

"She's gone," Jeremy said simply. He wasn't crying. He barely let any emotion slip through. That's how Michael knew something was very wrong. Jeremy didn't usually try to suppress his emotions like this. Not from him. Never from him.

"Gone?" Michael choked out. "Like gone gone? Never coming back gone?" Jeremy made a wounded noise, and the floodgate of tears finally broke through as he embraced Michael and held on for dear life.

"I know she was awful to me and my dad," Jeremy sobbed out. "But I still want her back… she's my mom, Michael. I hate that I want her back! I hate it, I hate it!"

"I hate her," Michael growled. All she had ever done was tear Jeremy down, emotionally and physically. He wasn't stupid - he knew most of those bruises and cuts weren't from bullies. "I'll hate her for you then until you can too. You deserve to be surrounded by people who love you." Jeremy just sobbed harder. Michael offered Jeremy his sweatshirt sleeve to wipe his eyes with.

"If… if I wasn't so terrible… she wouldn't have left. She would love me if I wasn't so-" Jeremy broke down again and Michael squeezed him tighter, feeling every shake of his best friend's chest as he sobbed and heaved. "Why doesn't she love me? Why doesn't… why doesn't…"

"I love you."

Jeremy only sniffled some more in response. But Michael already knew what his response was. He smiled and rubbed comforting circles on his best friend's back until they both fell asleep.

5.

Neither of them could say anything. Both were afraid that one wrong word would ignite a friendship-ending argument about everything that happened. Plus Rich was there, on the other side of the thin curtain, and neither of them really knew what to make of the new him. So there they were, together, after being separated for months, and yet, so far apart.

Jeremy would flinch in pain every so often. He looked like he wanted to run and hide, but couldn't, due to being confined to a hospital bed, as well as utterly paralyzed in fear.

The awkwardness was getting unbearable. It was a constant reminder to Michael that there was a wedge in their friendship: a deep chasm that would ensure their friendship would never return to its former glory. Michael had to say something.

"How do you feel?" he asked.

"... Like shit," Jeremy croaked out. He sank a little deeper into the fluffy pillow the hospital had provided. "My head's too quiet. I don't miss it or anything… it's just quiet." Michael nodded awkwardly, not understanding in the slightest. That was also new.

"I missed you, though."

Michael's head shot up to meet Jeremy's eyes which were hazed over due to the medication, but showed the same sincerity Michael was used to seeing in them nonetheless.

"I missed you, too," Michael breathed. Jeremy attempted a smile. He didn't fully get there, but he was trying, and that was good enough for Michael. "You couldn't get rid of me again even if you wanted to," Michael said. "I'm not leaving you ever again."

"I don't deserve that," Jeremy said. His semblance of a smile dropped and was replaced by a look of suffocating guilt. "I don't deserve you."

Michael gently grabbed Jeremy's hand and intertwined their fingers. They didn't need any words. So many things were left unsaid, but they could take it one day at a time. And Michael could forgive Jeremy for the SQUIP. Embarrassingly enough, he already had. Because he loved Jeremy. Losing him for 2 months was all it took to convince Michael that it was true love. He couldn't abandon Jeremy. Not on his life. Never. And as for that day, Michael was going to stay by Jeremy's bedside until he started smiling again.

+1.

Michael had fucked up, big time. He'd gone and confessed to Jeremy about his feelings - how much he loved Jeremy, wanted to kiss him, and needed to hold him at night until he felt safe. And Jeremy hadn't said anything back. He'd looked like a deer in the headlights, shocked and disgusted by Michael's confession. Michael didn't ever want to leave his room again.

There was a soft, timid knock on the door, and Michael instantly knew who it was. He debated climbing out the window or hiding in the closet, but decided he may as well get his rejection over with. The tears hadn't stopped falling yet. They'd been leaking out of his eyes since he'd run away from Jeremy's house.

"Michael? Can I come in?" Michael didn't move from underneath his blanket. He hoped Jeremy would take a hint and go away. Just go away.

But instead, the door opened, and a very familiar pale, freckled face peered out into the room. Michael didn't move a muscle, desperately praying the Jeremy took the hint so he could cry in peace. And for a second, it seemed like that was what Jeremy would do. The door squeaked a bit as it closed a little, and Jeremy took a step back, breaking eye contact with the lump of blankets on Michael's bed that he was hiding in.

But then… Michael watched Jeremy's face harden in determination, and he seemed to make a decision. Jeremy opened the door all the way again and made his way across the room in long strides. He pulled the top blanket off a Michael in a smooth motion. Then he peered down at his best friend with a soft, nervous expression.

"I-... oh gosh I… " Jeremy played with his hands a little bit, clearly uncomfortable. "I'm going to kiss you. Is that okay?"

"What?"

"I… want to know. If it's okay."

"To kiss me?"

"Yeah," Jeremy said. "I want to. Because I came over here to tell you I feel the same way… I just couldn't say anything earlier. I thought it was a joke…"

"A joke," Michael asked incredulously as the tears kept dripping from his eyes. "I've been in love with you since middle school, Jer. If you're playing some kind of joke on me then-"

Jeremy cut Michael off by softly pressing his chapped lips against Michael's. It was timid and uncertain, and Michael was too startled to kiss back. But it felt like lightning.

"I love you, Mikey," Jeremy whispered in his ear. Michael began crying all over again, but for a different reason. His best friend kissed him again… the again… he wiped the teardrop tenderly off Michael's cheeks and wrapped his thin arms around Michael to make him feel secure. Jeremy wasn't ever going to leave Michael alone again. At that moment, they were both sure of that.