I should just skip lunch, thought Jeremy. I can't face Michael again after that.

"Yes, you can, and you will. Trust me. Favorable outcomes are quite likely this time."

Jeremy glanced down at his bag again, not caring how suspicious that must look during a math test. He couldn't concentrate anyway -- he couldn't seem to keep his mind off the can of soda inside. He briefly wondered how Michael could've possibly found out, but came to the conclusion that since they'd been friends for over a decade, Michael must've pretty much had his behavior pattern memorized by now.

Guilt crept back into his mind. They'd been best friends for almost thirteen years, and Jeremy had tried to throw it all away over a crush?

Though, to be fair, it was a crush he'd had and suppressed and tortured himself with for years. Maybe Michael would be quicker to forgive him if he knew that.

His mind shifted to consider what he was going to do about about all this. Drink the soda? Save it? Obviously he wasn't planning on keeping the Squip forever; he had to drink the stuff eventually. But when? Now? Tonight? After he won Michael back?

"Well, Michael knows, so you can't wait for long. If you don't drink it he'll take offense," said the Squip. Jeremy jumped -- he'd forgotten for a moment that the Squip was there. And he was surprised at how emotionless the statement was. The Squip wasn't trying to convince Jeremy to keep him, like he did last time Mountain Dew Red came into the picture. This was uncharted territory. Don't you care that I'm thinking about shutting you down?

"I told you, my primary purpose is to achieve the goals you set. Last time, in order to reach those goals, it was essential that you kept me. This time it is essential that you remove me. Seventy-two percent, by the way," he added.

Jeremy wrote the answer for problem number fourteen. Thanks. But when do I do it?

"Not now," the Squip laughed. "The screaming would be quite disruptive during a test -- I doubt your teacher would appreciate it." He leaned back in his seat, the one right behind Jeremy, putting his feet on the desk. "You have to talk to Michael at lunch. The two of you will figure it out."

Jeremy nodded and turned back to his probability-and-statistics work. Number fifteen looked easy enough. Don't give me this one, I've got it.

The Squip smiled. "Let me know if you need help."

Jeremy glanced back, maybe to thank him, but he was gone. Okay, concentrate.

He most certainly could not concentrate. All he could think of was Michael and Mountain Dew.

The Squip materialized beside him, cross-legged on the floor, smirking. "Yeah, I figured as much. Four point two."

Jeremy jotted this down gratefully. He looked at his bag again, then the clock, then back to his paper. Two minutes until the end of class.

The Squip cleared his throat dramatically and flew through the math problems. "Seventeen and a half. Five hundred twenty-five percent increase. Sixty-nine. Stop laughing. Eight percent decrease."

They rushed to the last question and brought the paper up to the teacher just as the bell rang, along with most of the other students. As he navigated the crowd, Jeremy was still debating whether or not to hide in the bathroom all period or actually confront his problems. It didn't matter, of course; he knew the Squip would probably make him see Michael anyway.

"Bingo," the Squip confirmed. "I can still control your movements, if necessary."

Jeremy rolled his eyes, accepted his fate, and followed the waves of students making their way to lunch. He wasn't hungry -- and with the way his stomach was twisting at the thought of more confrontation, eating wouldn't have been a good idea anyway -- so the Squip directed him straight to Michael.

He was sitting in the far corner of the cafeteria, as opposed to his usual spot with Rich and Jeremy. He was alone. Jeremy felt another twinge of guilt mixed in with all of the nerves as he sat across from his Player 1.

"Hi," said Jeremy with a careful smile.

Michael pulled off his headphones, poker-faced again. "Hi."

Where do I start?

The Squip shushed him. "Let Michael start."

He did. "Jeremy, listen... I overreacted. You were being a bad friend, I'm not gonna, like, let that fly, but... I was too."

Jeremy cut him off, despite the Squip's protests. "No, Michael, it wasn't your fault, I -- "

"Let me finish, Jer." Michael made a noise somewhere between a sigh and a sob. "You obviously needed help, and I just... gave up. So, I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. I had to say that." He paused, looking expectantly at Jeremy.

Jeremy reached across the table and took Michael's hand. Surprisingly, Michael didn't pull away. "I'm sorry too. I never -- never should've ignored you like that, not last October, and not now." He looked Michael right in the eye. "I'm so sorry. You're my favorite person, Michael. You're my Player 1, my best friend. I -- I shouldn't have -- oh, god, I fucked up bad." He buried his face in his free hand. "I'm so, so sorry. Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?"

Michael took a deep breath and answered, "Come over tonight."

Jeremy was taken aback. "Uh... really? That's all?"

"Come over alone. Without... the, uh, toaster."

"Ugh, you remember that?" laughed Jeremy, hiding his face again. "Because I barely do and I'm still embarrassed."

"Yeah, it didn't take long to figure out what you meant," Michael smiled. "I just... I need you to explain to me what the hell happened. In your own words, not his. But you can't tell me now, I'm guessing there's not enough time. And you can't drink that now, anyway, you'll freak people out. So, drink it at home, then come over," he concluded.

Before Jeremy could answer, he was interrupted by an excited "Jeremy!" as Christine slid into the booth beside him. Rich dropped down right next to Michael.

"Jeremy, Michael, are you busy?" Christine said urgently. "I have big news!"

Jeremy looked at Michael, who nodded his assent. "No, we're not busy. What's up?"

"So! This might be kinda weird to talk about with you of all people, but... Remember when I was with Jake?" She didn't wait for an answer -- she seemed too excited. "Well, after me and you broke up, I was like, 'I think I still have feelings for him.'"

Rich slammed his hand on the table. "Bitch, me too, the fuck?" he interrupted.

Christine smacked him on the arm playfully. "You already made that joke and it wasn't funny the first time either. Let me finish!" She turned back to Michael and Jeremy. "So then I was like, 'I like him, but I don't want to date him'. And I realized, I don't want to be his girlfriend. I want to be his best friend. I think he's so cool and confident and accepting of people and I just want to hug the crap out of that boy."

Jeremy's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

Christine beamed. "I'm glad you asked! So, I thought to myself, these feelings aren't romantic, they're platonic! And I thought back and realized -- I've literally never had anything more than platonic feelings for anyone. Sorry, Jeremy," she added. "Anyway, I did some research, and apparently, I'm not crazy. I am -- drumroll please -- "

Rich dutifully pounded on the table as if they'd rehearsed this together.

Christine threw up her arms and shouted to the ceiling. "I am an aromantic asexual! An aro-ace!"

The boys applauded her, laughing at her dramatic reveal, and various congratulations on the whole figuring-out-your-identity thing were exchanged. But she wasn't done yet.

"Guys." Christine got very serious. "This was all yesterday. So I decided to talk to Jake. This. Morning." She inhaled sharply, seemingly in preparation to fangirl. "He likes me too! Platonically! And we're gonna be platonic partners!"

More applause and congratulations, until --

"But wait, there's more," Rich interjected. "Coincidentally, I also decided to talk to Jake this morning and me and Christine bumped into each other on the way to him. We all three got to talking and I told him that I liked him, ya know, sexually -- no, I didn't really say that, I just wanted to say the word sexually -- stop laughing, Mell, I know it sounds funny with my lisp -- anyway, I told him I like him too and now I have a date with him Saturday!" He gave an overly dramatic wink.

"Which I'm totally cool with!" cried Christine. "We're gonna be... let me see if I can get this right... a queer-platonic-slash-gay-slash-romantic-polyamorous power trio!" She threw her fist into the air like a superhero.

Jeremy blinked. "Wow. Uh... I'm glad you... three are happy."

"I mean, that's not our official name. I just came up with it now. Either way, I know it's a lot to take in," Christine said apologetically. "If you have any questions, I'm totally cool with answering them."

Michael seemed to know exactly what was going on somehow. The Squip showed up briefly to explain. "Online LGBT resources are growing rapidly and full of information. Michael is a part of this, I assume, and knows the terms. I can define any of them for you if you wish, or try and network you into the community."

"I think I understand, but maybe later," Jeremy answered both Christine and the Squip. "Uh, Michael?" he prompted. "Any news?"

Michael bounced in his seat. "Oh yeah! I'm trans!" He waited for the half-hearted responses to start before bursting into laughter. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding, you knew that. But seriously -- I'm, uh, I'm gay." He showed off his new patch a little sheepishly. "I don't know if you guys noticed it, but... I never really officially came out 'til now. No time like the present, right?"

Michael's announcement was met with the same enthusiasm as Christine's, but he couldn't stand being alone in the celebration. "Jeremy? Anything new with you?"

It was casual enough that Jeremy could deny it without suspicion, but pointed enough that he got the hint. His palms began to sweat and he realized he was still holding hands with Michael not-too-subtly. He pulled away and wiped his hands on his jeans. Oh, why the hell not?

"Well, Rich knows, and I think you know, Michael, but..." Jeremy shrugged, grinning. "I'm bisexual."

"Ayy, bi bitches club!" Rich high-fived him with fervor.

The four friends talked and laughed and made terrible gay puns all period long. Jeremy couldn't seem to stop grinning; it was the best half hour he'd had in a long, long time. He felt as though his problems melted away and were replaced with laughter. He felt like he could tell these people anything right now, anything, and nobody would be judgmental or cruel. He felt accepted, safe, included, wanted, needed, and so much more.

In short, he felt loved, and he wouldn't want it any other way.