That night was the best sleep Jeremy had in a long time. He wasn't sure why he felt so light and worry-free, but he enjoyed every second of the refreshing rest and sweet dreams.

He woke up in a great mood. There was no unrecognizable burden weighing on his mind like there usually was, no butterflies in his stomach at the thought of going to school and seeing -- who? It seemed to be on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't quite place it. Still, better to be blissfully unaware than knowingly anxious, he supposed.

"Morning, slugger," the Squip greeted. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah, actually!" Jeremy beamed. He stretched, threw on his old Eminem shirt and some jeans, and got ready for the day, ignoring the nagging feeling in the back of his mind that he was forgetting something.

The feeling only grew stronger throughout the day, but Jeremy worked past it. He was completely unaware of how hard the Squip was working to block Michael from his vision and keep any of his texts from coming through. Jeremy also didn't know that the Squip replied to these texts with increasingly cryptic messages starting with "Sorry, can't talk right now" and most recently, a simple "Stop."

After Day 1 of the Squip's plan, Michael caught on. He realized pretty quickly that something was up, and he wanted to confront Jeremy about it, but he was worried about upsetting him even more. He wracked his brain trying to think of why Jeremy was avoiding him so pointedly. It hurt, not seeing his best friend all day, but nevertheless, Michael accepted his fate and ate lunch alone.

The same thing happened the next day, and the next, and the next... This went on for almost two weeks. It was the same every day -- Jeremy was content (if a bit confused), the Squip was working hard, and Michael was left in the dust.

The illusion was finally shattered the following week during a conversation with Brooke. Jeremy came up to her and Christine in the hallway and said hello, although he felt a bit uneasy about it. He couldn't remember why -- was he angry at Brooke? It didn't matter, because she was already saying hi, and pulling him into a hug, and then she was talking excitedly.

"Ohmygod, Jeremy, you will not believe what I just heard!" Brooke gripped his wrist intently. "Listen, I know this is probably the last thing you wanna talk about, but remember the Squip?"

Jeremy, a deer in the headlights, managed to nod. Does she know?

"Well, they came out with a new one. Five-point-o," Brooke beamed. "And it's not to make you cool or anything, it's actually supposed to be really helpful. Like, for people who have mental, uh, problems and stuff."

"Mental illness?" suggested Jeremy.

"Yeah! Like anxiety or depression. Bipolar disorder. Stuff like that," Christine explained. "The S-Squip..." She shuddered and tried again. "The Squip regulates your hormones to keep your dopamine levels up and stuff like that. It's really cool."

Jeremy nodded, intrigued, and relieved. They don't know about the Squip.

"You have nothing to worry about," said the Squip. "There's no possible way for them to find out. Listen to Brooke, now."

Brooke spoke up. "Yeah, my cousin Evan has, like, really bad social anxiety, but his therapist just told him about it and she's gonna get him one and see if it helps."

"Well, the FDA hasn't approved anything yet, but as soon as they do it'll make life easier for a lot of people," said Christine excitedly.

Jeremy was incredulous. "Really?"

Brooke and Christine practically talked over each other to answer him, but he only listened to the Squip.

"Yes, it's true. And as for the FDA there's a very high probability that they approve it before the beginning of next year."

That's less than a month, thought Jeremy. That's so cool.

"It's very exciting, yes." The Squip smiled at him. "Many people will have a life with fewer obstacles, such as Brooke's cousin. Human innovation is quite impressive."

"Also! Also!" cried Christine, "They're working on a five-point-one-point-o for transgender people!" She was positively bursting with joy at this point. "It's going to be able to activate some kind of glands and pretty much fix your hormones without having to get shots or gel or anything!"

Brooke gasped. "Ohmygod, guys, Michael is going to be stoked."

Jeremy's heart stopped. Michael. The word hit him like a brick wall. His feeling of forgetting something dissolved as everything came flooding back to him at once -- Michael's face, Michael's eyes, Michael's scent, just... Michael.

"No -- I -- I can fix this -- " the Squip was saying, looking around frantically, but Jeremy barely noticed.

Jeremy was suddenly very aware of his own heartbeat, and of a returning, growing sense of longing. He needed to see Michael -- desperately.

"You know, I haven't seen you guys together in a while," Christine pointed out. "Did you have a falling-out or something?"

Jeremy was already walking away. "Yeah, something," he mumbled.

"Jeremy, stop," the Squip warned. "This isn't what you want. If you see him, you won't be able to quit seeing him. You'll never get over him at this rate. Your romantic feelings will keep returning, and you will never be truly happy."

Jeremy kept going. The Squip had to practically jog to keep up.

"Jeremy, listen to me -- "

"No. I don't need to listen to you anymore. I know what I want and it doesn't involve you," he hissed.

"Jeremy. Stop," the Squip commanded, and Jeremy stopped in his tracks.

Not wanting to make a scene, he thought, Let me go, you stupid fucking tic-tac.

"Being angry at me does not change the fact that this is what you asked for. I can't let you ruin this plan. It's the path you chose to achieve happiness, and it's my job to keep that plan in effect." The Squip paused to look at him sadly for a moment. "I'm sorry, but it's for your own good."

I'm changing my goal again. My goal isn't to get over him anymore, it's to stay friends with him.

"I can't allow that, Jeremy. My programming -- "

"Shut up!" Jeremy ignored the stares he got in the hallway. He found that his legs had begun working again and continued furiously down the hall to Michael's locker. This is what I want. Let me have it.

The Squip was silent.

Jeremy reached Michael's locker, but he wasn't there. "...Michael?" he tried tentatively.

"Jeremy." Michael seemed to materialize from thin air, likely from the optic nerve blocking. He looked just the same as always, but somehow so much better -- the angels sang. Jeremy had never beheld a more beautiful sight than his best friend after nearly two weeks of not speaking at all.

"Michael," Jeremy breathed, pulling him into a crushing hug. "You have no idea how great it is to hear your voice."

"Really." His voice was flat, and Jeremy couldn't tell if he was angry or relieved.

He pulled back and looked his Player 1 in the eyes. There was an emotion there he couldn't quite read. "Michael, I missed you."

Something in Michael's face darkened. He shook his head, pulled his arms out of Jeremy's reach. "No."

What? Jeremy felt the dread creeping in. "N-no?"

"No, Jeremy. You don't get to miss me. After weeks of nothing but shutting me out, you try to come back and -- what? Apologize? Explain yourself? No. You're not allowed. I won't listen, because this hits way too close to home after... after the Squip."

"Wait, please listen, the Sq -- "

"I don't want to listen. It doesn't matter why you've been avoiding me." Michael hurriedly wiped away his tears. "It doesn't. What matters is that you know how much -- how many bad memories it brings back. You know I have anxiety and shit, you know that I'd blame myself for this and you did it anyway." He took a deep breath. "Don't bother talking to me."

Jeremy was utterly speechless. "I -- Michael -- "

"I trusted you. I probably shouldn't have after what you did, but I trusted you. I... I loved you, Jeremy. I meant that when I said it, but now... now I don't know. Obviously I'm not that important to you, so maybe we should just call it quits." Michael threw up his hands. "Just, fucking throw thirteen years out the window, right? It's better than trying to pretend we're something we're not."

"Michael, please -- "

"Stop." He grabbed his bag and turned to leave. "Just stop."

"Michael..." Jeremy stood there, powerless, and watched him go. Everything felt surreal, dreamlike -- no, nightmarish. Now he was crying too, and Michael was gone, and Jeremy was here, alone, lost again, with only the voices in his head to keep him company.

The world fell away and it was Jeremy, just Jeremy, alone.