(Or alternatively, I Love You, and Goodbye)

(Trigger Warning: Self-Harm)

(Michael's POV)

"Alright," Jeremy said, looking around the basement, "I think we have everything we need for the most epic videogame binging sleepover since Middle School. What do you think?"

I looked up from where I was sitting on the bed. I saw piles of already-unfolded blankets by the beanbags, which were set up in front of the couch, facing the TV. I saw bags of snacks, Mountain Dew Red, and other assorted snack items on the table against the far wall. He had set up anything he could think of that we would need, really, and all in ways that would be easy-access for us.

"Yeah, looks perfect. What are we gonna play?"

"What do you think?"

I smirked at Jeremy. "Apocalypse of the Damned?"

"Yes! We were stuck on level nine for so long, and then the whole... thing with the... thing... happened, and we never really got around to finishing it, and I just thought, what a better way to do this, than to just... pick up where we left off?"

I grinned, then blushed and looked down, wiping my face of any reaction. I knew how much this little reconciliation sleepover meant to Jeremy- it just didn't mean that much to me.

"Sounds like a plan."

—
(Jeremy's POV)

We had been playing Apocalypse for three solid hours, and were now stuck on level ten, when Michael yawned.

I did not fail to notice this. "You wanna go to sleep, bud?" I don't know why, maybe it was my tone, but Michael brought up his walls out of nowhere, and said coldly,

"Ehh... maybe a bit. We don't have to, though, if you wanna keep playing."

"No, no, man, it's fine. Heere-"I pulled out an old joke of ours- "Take these pajamas." I handed Michael the clothes that had been folded and waiting on the back of the couch.

Michael sighed. "Alright, Heere."

My face dropped, because when Michael used my last name, he wasn't joking. He had started doing it in Middle School- using last names for people he didn't know. 'First names are for friends, last names for everyone else.' he would say.

I also knew that Michael didn't need to. He could have just said 'alright' and ended it there. But no. He was reminding me. Reminding me of all I'd done wrong.

I deserve it.

I looked down at Michael, only to find him looking back at me.

"What? Aren't you going to get changed? I'm sleeping in this, if you're waiting for me."

"No, that's not it. It's... It's just... could you turn around?"

"Turn around? Like face away from you?" I laughed. "What, afraid I'm gonna judge your dick? I've seen it all before, Micha, don't you remember? We're- we used to be- best friends."

"It's not that."

"Then what is it?"

"You don't need to know."

But I want to. Really, what is it?"

"You're pushing it."

"No I'm not. If we're gonna be friends, we gotta tell eachother things, right?"

"No. We just have to not hate eachother."

"I don't hate you."

Michael sighed. "I know. Just turn around."

"No."

Michael sighed. "Fine. If you're gonna be that way, then I'll just use the bathroom."

As he walked up the stairs and out of the room, I wondered, What could be so private that he would try this hard to hide it?

It had to be something about his body. Otherwise it wouldn't be me not looking at him while he changes that was the problem.

Could he be self conscious of his body? No, that's not it. He was only wearing pants and a t-shirt before, so I could see his entire body shape anyway (yeah I had noticed, I had noticed quite a lot, shut up).

Then I remembered. Pants. Even though it was becoming Summer, and everyone was switching to shorts, I couldn't remember Michael wearing shorts since... last year. Since before the SQUIP.

Michael used to cut, and when he did, it was always his legs... but no, he wouldn't have gone back to that. I had helped him stop. And Michael had even said, only something that really, truly ripped him apart, from the inside out, something that made him feel so awful that he simply couldn't go on without doing it, or felt he couldn't go on at all... only that would make him go back to cutting.

He wouldn't. No way.

Right?

—
(Michael's POV)

When I came back down the stairs, grumbling about the basketball shorts I had to wear, it was to be met with Jeremy sitting backwards on the couch, facing me, with tears running down his face.

"Je... Jere? What's wrong?" Jeremy crying made me momentarily forget to use last names for him.

"Micha... why- why did you need to hide from me?"

"I already told you, I don't wanna-"

"No. Tell me."

Silence fell in the room. Jeremy broke it a second later.

"Are- are you... cutting again?"

My mouth opened, but no words came out.

"Michael, c'mere." He patted the couch to his left.

I walked over, like a robot. My legs moved, but I didn't know why.

When I passed the side of the couch, Jeremy spun around so he was facing the now-off TV. I sat, and waited for... whatever was going to happen.

"Mikey, let me- let me see your leg."

"No."

"Yes, or I'll force you to let me see."

I looked up at Jeremy's eyes, which were giving me such a sad, serious, caring, worried stare, that I broke down sobbing.

"I'm- I'm sorry- I'm so sorry, Jere, I just- you- I-" a wave of tears hit me, cutting off what I was going to say. I buried my face in my hands and cried.

I didn't care when I felt Jeremy lifting the hem of my shorts up to reveal my cuts and scars. It wasn't like I could hide it anymore.

"Oh, God, Mikey, honey, no- this is... wow. This is bad. Is this a word? You cut words into yourself? Oh my G... oh my- oh. Oh. Oh."

I began trying to apologise again, but I couldn't. It was like the past seven months of feelings were all just coming out of me at once.

I hadn't cried since the Halloween party.

"Mi... Michael- Micha- Mikey- you... you wrote- is that..." Jeremy sucked in a breath through his tears, and finished softly, "is that because of me?"

I turned my head to look at him, a sort of strangled, screaming sob forcing its way out of my open mouth. I looked at him through foggy glasses, and saw pain in his eyes- Nothing but pain. He really felt bad, didn't he?

He should.

But no! This is my best friend! This is the boy I love! The boy I can't live without! I don't want to cause him pain.

So I nod, looking down at the word on my left thigh. Jeremy's hand is covering it a bit, but I don't need to read it to know what it says.

Loser.

Jeremy let's out a wrenched noise, and dives into a hug, wrapping his arms around me.

"I didn't know... didn't know... I'm so sorry... I couldn't stop it-"

"But that's the thing!" I yell, jumping up and away from him. "That's exactly it! You said, that night, you said that it was off! That means that... that means... that was you. That was all you. So no excuses! You can't just blame the SPQUIP for everything you did, because in the end, you were the one who listened to it!"

"But Mikey, it was so persuasive, and it was mean to me-"

"I DON'T CARE!! Rich managed to ignore it, didn't he? Rich didn't try to take over the school with SQUIPs, did he? Did he?!"

"He tried to kill himself, Micha!"

"Yeah, well at least he tried something." I cross my arms and look away from Jeremy.

"Mikey, I- I'm sorry, I really am-"

"I don't want your lame grovelling. You know, before this whole SQUIP thing, I was really prepared to follow you to the ends of the Earth. I was only a functioning human being because you were there by me, all the time. You were there for me in my worst times. You got me out of cutting- I could have never stopped that without you! You made me feel worthwhile, like as long as somebody cares, maybe I'll be okay. And you promised me! You always promised that you would never go away. You said we would always be a team, you and I, never apart! You called me your favourite person, and yeah, I might've mocked you for it a bit, but do you know how much that meant to me? Do you have any idea? Because I don't think you do. And that was just the platonic part of it! I was-"

I took a breath, and calmed down a bit. I squeeze my eyes shut and face the floor.

"I was in love with you, Jeremiah Heere. I still am." He gasped a bit. "But now... now, I can't look at you without thinking of what you did to me, what you said, but also... what you didn't do. And I can't stop it, I- I can't. I just can't."

I looked down at him. One of his hands was up at his mouth, the other gripping a handful of his shirt, right over his chest- right over his heart.

His eyes were filled with tears again.

The difference was, this time I felt no remorse. He needed to hear all that, and I needed to say it.

"Micha, you're in... in... l-love with me?"

"Wow, is that really all you got from all that? Did you even hear any of the rest of it?"

"Well, y-yeah, I did, it's just-"

"It's just, it doesn't matter, right?"

"N-no, that not what I was gonna say, I-"

"Well what were you gonna say?!"

"I keep trying to tell you, but you keep c-cutting me off!"

Oh. He's right. "Okay, I'll stop now. Say it."

"W-well, I was gonna... I was gonna say that... that I... I love you too."

My heart does a little fluttery thing inside my chest, but no- "Bad timing, man. You shoulda realised that about-" I look at my wrist, where a watch would go- "seven months ago, when you ground my heart into Jake's linoleum flooring with your heel. I let you have my heart once, Heere. You had it for years, and you didn't notice, and it's too late now. I'm not giving you a second chance."

I spun away from him and started gathering my stuff. Jeremy watched me the whole time.

Right as I was about to leave, he called my name.

"Michael, wait! Wait a minute."

I heard Jeremy walk up behind me. I set my things on the bottom step, and turned to face him. I was surprised to see him only a couple inches away from me. I looked up at him, and said, "What?"

He neither said, nor did anything for a second.

Then he kissed me, held me tight, and everything stopped.

One of his hands went to my waist, the other to the back of my head. I wrapped both of mine around his waist. We kissed with tenderness and passion, savouring eachother, and that moment. Every so often one of our hands would move, but that's all the motion that happened, if you don't counts our mouths and heads moving to get better angles at eachother.

When we pulled away from eachother, it happened even slower than the kiss itself. He rested his forehead on mine, and sighed.

"I love you, Michael Mell."

I turned my face down, a contented smile fading away from my face. His nose and lips were in my hair, and I could tell he thought he had me back.

I pulled away from him, and looked at him with no emotion in my face. I pick my things up from the stairs, and went to walk up them. I stopped on the second one.

His words were ringing in my ears: 'I love you, Michael Mell.'

I looked at his broken, confused face, and decided to say one last thing before I go.

"I love you too, Jeremy Heere."

Then I walked up the stairs, out the door, and left.