"Just a tip; if you don't want to waste all of your money on useless pieces of plastic, you might want to limit your spending." The Squip floats quietly over Jeremy's right shoulder, disdainfully glaring at any record Jeremy takes notice of. The taller of the two teens heads towards the back of the store, where obscure 80's rock albums are usually kept. Michael idles nearby, leafing through album upon album of old-school rap.
Jeremy doesn't pay the Squip much mind; he's used to others looking down on his hobbies, after all. Listening to old records isn't exactly considered 'cool' by his classmates. Not to mention, the not-safe-for-work lyrics and rock-influenced instrumentals cause his dad to view him more as a mischief-maker than a music connoisseur. 'I wouldn't call it useless. Music is good for relieving stress, you know? That, and wasting time when there's nothing better to do.' He grabs a 'Steamed Ham' album, then skims through the songs list, mentally weighing the cost of the album against how much enjoyment he would get from listening to it.
"And I can do that manually just as easily. I'm in control of your brain, remember? For example, I could do this." The Squip snaps his fingers, and Jeremy instantly feels every vertebrae in his spine stiffen to the point where he can't move in the slightest. The teen frantically attempts to move a leg, or arm, or finger, or anything but his limbs retain an almost corpse-like rigidity. "Or this." The Squip snaps his fingers again, andJeremy's vision is then bombarded with lights so bright he can't stand to keep his eyes open for more than a few seconds. Just as suddenly as he had lost the ability to move, his body is allowed to move freely again. Jeremy brings a hand to his face to shield his eyes, but it does little to stop the light from bombarding him. He quickly squeezes his eyes shut, stumbling a bit and knocking over a few records in the process, much to the chagrin of the store's cashier. "Or even-"
'I get the point!' The lights settle down, and Jeremy hurriedly stoops down to pick up the fallen records. Just as he places them back on their display, the Squip snaps his fingers for a third time. Jeremy braces himself, placing one hand on a nearby shelf in case the Squip decides to shut off his legs, or something.
"I was about to say… this." Jeremy instantly feels an intense warmth wash over him. The teen's worries float away with each breath he takes, and after a few seconds he finds himself so relaxed that he's hardly aware of where he is anymore. His grip on the shelf loosens involuntarily, his hands feeling slightly numb, as if filled with tufts of cotton. Jeremy tries to raise the hand to his face, but his eyes lose their focus and he can only think about laying on the ground and taking a nap, possibly for forever. He feels as if he could go on this way for forever, at the very least. As if everything would be alright, and he wouldn't have to deal with being bullied or looking uncool in front of girls or his terribly low self-esteem ever again.
Michael's voice snaps him out of his daze. "Are you sure you're okay? Look, if this Squip is doing something weird to your head, maybe it's best if we- I dunno, figure out a way to tone it down?" The shorter teen places a hand on the other's shoulder. It looks like Jeremy's freakout had drawn him over.
"Disdainful disagreement." The Squip snaps his fingers one final time, and everything is back to normal. The sudden change makes Jeremy feel as if he's been plunged into a pool of freezing water. It takes a moment for him to gather his thoughts, and he soon finds himself able to speak coherently.
"Look- you can't possibly understand how this feels. It's like…" He pauses for a moment, then continues, prompted by the Squip. "I don't have to worry about making the wrong move, or saying the wrong thing. I don't have to overanalyze any small gesture or wonder if I could've done something better, or different. For the first time in my life, there's no… pressure." He speaks quietly, his voice almost a whisper.
"You're starting to creep me out, Jer." Michael takes a timid step backwards. The Squip has the faintest traces of a smile on his face. His voice rings out with an almost smug sense of satisfaction.
"Reverse the accusation, then change the subject."
"Maybe you just can't accept that fact that I'm finally making something out of my life." Jeremy sighs. "Look, they have a 'Hometown Boy' album on sale. You've been pining after that one for a while, right?"
"Yeah, but…" Michael opens his mouth to say something, but decides against it. He turns his gaze towards the floor. He speaks after a second, sheepishly. "Nevermind. You want to grab some Taco Bell after this?"
"Make it Subway, unless you want to wreak havoc on your digestive system. I honestly don't know how you were able to survive while eating that for so long."
Jeremy shrugs. 'I'm a teenager. My diet is, like, 80% garbage and 20% cheese.'
"Just answer." The Squip sighs, bringing a hand to rub his temple.
The taller teen clears his throat and turns to face Michael. "I'd rather go to Subway. Last time I went to Taco Bell, I'm pretty sure I saw someone abandon their child? Anyways, I'm kinda in the mood for a sandwich."
Michael nods, understandingly. "Yep, that sounds like Taco Bell. Subway sounds fine, though. Um, I'm going to look at the clearance section." He then hurries himself to another section of the store, leaving Jeremy alone for the time being.
As soon as Michael leaves his line of sight, the Squip takes his place, standing in front of Jeremy with his arms crossed. "Are you sure this relationship is worth saving?"
The teen is taken aback. 'If you're implying we're a couple or something, tha-'
The bot raises a hand, silencing him. "If that were the case, this would be a whole lot easier. But right now, we need to focus. Are you absolutely certain your friendship with Michael is worth holding yourself back?"
'I wouldn't say he's holding me back…' Jeremy breaks eye contact with the Squip, shifting his gaze to the floor.
The Squip holds his other hand flat and raises it, forcing Jeremy's gaze back towards him. "Think about it, Jeremy. Ever since he found out about me, he's been critical of your every action. He's so resistant to even the slightest change that he can't stand to see you improve yourself."
The teen frowns. 'He's just worried about me. You have been making me look kind of insane aroun-"
"But he hasn't said a single thing about any of the positive change that's come from this. In case you haven't noticed: since I showed up you've had experience with the opposite sex, people actually greet you as you pass by them, and Rich is out of the equation entirely." The bot draws closer to Jeremy until he's looming only a few inches away from him.
Still a bit uneasy, Jeremy tries his best to hold the Squip's gaze. 'Maybe he cares about more than my reputation.'
Without so much as a second of hesitation, the Squip responds. "He doesn't care about you; he cares about the idea of you. He only wants someone to play video games with and rant about his problems to. Why else would be so upset when you're finally popular and unable to spend so much time around him?"
'That can't be right. Michael isn't like that.' The teen mumbles, more to himself than to the bot.
"Jeremy, listen closely." The Squip places a hand on Jeremy's shoulder with a gentleness the teen didn't think he was capable of. "I'm a supercomputer. I have more processing power in my- albeit digital- pinky finger than the entirety of NASA when they sent man to the moon. I can compute any complex equation in a fraction of time of even the smartest mathematician on Earth. I was programmed specifically to analyze information and form logical conclusions on possible outcomes with a 100% success rate. Your friendship has no meaning outside of a way to fight boredom."
Jeremy stays silent for a moment, obviously hurt, but still not entirely convinced of everything the Squip said to him. He furrows his brow and stares down at his shoes, but the bot doesn't stop him this time. A few more moments pass, but Jeremy can't find the words to say.
"Think about it." The Squip takes a step back. "When you're ready to face the facts, we can talk. You should consider taking my being here seriously from now on."
Just as soon as the words have left his mouth, Michael comes up to Jeremy with about half a dozen records in his hands. "Hey, Jeremy! I'm just about ready to check out. You almost done?"
Still not completely paying attention, Jeremy tries his best to act normal. "Hm? Oh, yeah, nearly."
"Man, they got the coolest shit here! I found a vintage 'Headsoft Tryhard' album- this'll go perfectly with my collection!" With sparkling eyes, the shorter teen pulls out an album with an image of a crushed soda can inside of a crushed garbage can on the cover.
Jeremy feigns enthusiasm. "Yeah, that's- really cool."
"After this, we can go back to my place and chill. It'll be just like the good old times. Well, if old times are just over a month ago." A wide grin breaks out on Michael's face. "But, dude, you have no idea how boring it was trying to jam to 80's synth-rock all on my own."
Jeremy tries his best to act cheerful, but he can't escape the sneaking suspicion that maybe the Squip is right. Maybe, after all their years of friendship, Michael only sees Jeremy as nothing more than a way to pass time. Or worse, Michael could just be hanging around Jeremy because he feels obligated to, and gaming is the only way to make it bearable. Sure, it isn't the most logical explanation, but the thought is still there.
After buying a few albums each, Jeremy having significantly fewer than Michael, the pair walk out of the record store and towards the food court of the mall. It's the perfect time for an afternoon snack, and the hall is buzzing with people. Each and every table is filled with a range of people, from families with crying infants to teenagers with a bad case of the munchies. Over the flood of chatter, cries, cheers, and casual conversation, it's difficult to hear someone standing even five feet away. The teens head for the Subway, slightly disheartened by the line that wraps around the front of the sandwich shop.
"Oh, hey! Jeremy!" Cutting through the noise, a high-pitched squeal rises somewhere to Jeremy's right. Holding a violet smoothie in one hand, a short, preppy-looking girl with shimmery blonde hair steps out from a line of people and rapidly approaches the two teens. She's clutching a few bags from various stores, as well as a flowery blue Vera Bradley purse.
Michael stares at the girl for a moment, then turns back to Jeremy, the confusion clear on his face. "Is that Brooke? What does she want with you? She always hated you."
"Well, it's… complicated." Jeremy rubs the back of his neck. He really isn't in the mood to be dealing with this right now, but… Jeremy feels like he should take the Squip's advice, and man up. If he wants to become popular, he needs to start making his way up the social pyramid, and befriending Brooke is enough to bring him up a few steps. He needs to start taking this whole situation seriously. As much as he wants to walk away and pretend he never saw her, Jeremy takes a deep breath and waves to Brooke.
Brooke scurries over to the pair and drops her bags, then latches onto Jeremy's right bicep. She doesn't seem to notice Michael, or if she does, she doesn't mention him. "Hey, are you okay? You kind of ran off last time we were hanging out."
"I, um, it's kind of a funny story." Jeremy shoots a glance at Michael, as if to say 'Don't say anything' and awkwardly gives her a one-armed hug. He can't just tell Brooke about the Squip, or how he had spent the rest of that day hanging out with Michael over her. All the while, he shoots his Squip a frantic cry for help.
'All right, what am I supposed to do?'
The Squip has a strange sort of glint in his eye. He smiles, then turns away from Jeremy, one hand raised as if waving him away. "As I told you before, I won't be helping you. This is a learning experience, remember? Good luck."
And with that, the Squip takes a few steps forwards, seamlessly fading into the crowd of the food court. Jeremy is completely on his own this time.
"So, where did you go after you left the other day?" Brooke looks up at Jeremy, expectantly.
Jeremy stumbles over his words, trying to come up with a believable lie. "Well…"