Very Cute And Also Sugar Is The Solution To All Problems :)

Very cute and also sugar is the solution to all problems :)

for the short stories thing, 1 or 6 w meremine ?

1. Things you said at 1 AM

2. Things you said under the sky and in the grass

In the days leading up to graduation, Michael avoids Christine. He’s never been great at identifying his own emotions, but he’s in the midst of one, and it’s a bitch. It’s like, when Christine is away, he wants her there, but when she’s there, he’ll start thinking how wonderful she is, and then his throat will tighten, and a pain will start behind his eyes. It sucks ass.

“You think it’s because she’s going to a different college than us?” Jeremy asks one night. He’s sleeping over at Michael’s house, and they’re in the middle of one of those late night heart to hearts, where Michael is high enough to tell Jeremy worrying secrets, like how the the presence of Christine suddenly makes him physically ill.

“I support her in that,” Michael insists. “NYU is her dream. I’m not an asshole.”

“I’m not saying you are. I’m just saying you’re probably freaking out ‘cause you’re going to miss her. Like, how many friends have you had the experience of missing?”

You Michael doesn’t say. Jeremy knows that the Squip incident was hard for Michael, and there’s no need to dredge that up. It’s true that Jeremy was the only friend Michael ever had prior to that, and he doesn’t have a lot of experience with saying goodbye to people he cares about. One good thing about Jeremy abandoning Michael was that since Michael could’ve never anticipated that happening, he hadn’t had time to dread it before it started.

(At least he hadn’t had time to really dread it. There had maybe been this fear of in the back of his mind that Jeremy could leave him someday, but it’d been easy to shake off as unrealistic, like the fear of his airplane crashing when he visited his grandma in the Philippines)

Even so…

“I’m morally opposed to making a big deal of her leaving,” Michael says. “I’m not that big of a dick.”

“Yeah, but you’ve got to admit that it’s getting to you,” Jeremy says, like he’s wise, which he isn’t. “I know what you’re like. You’ll act like nothing’s happening, then all of a sudden it’ll be too much, and you’ll have a breakdown or something.”

Michael rolls his eyes. Jeremy is the last person to get to lecture others about breakdowns.

“You should find a way to tell her,” Jeremy continues. “Y’know, about how you want her to be happy, but you also want her to stay in touch. She’s a big part of our lives!”

“That’s like saying she has to keep in touch.”

“It’s like keeping the door open. Or you could just keep ignoring her. Your choice.”

Michael doesn’t answer. He thinks of how Jeremy used to make weird noises and run off whenever Christine looked in his direction. He thinks of how scared Jeremy was to start things. Michael’s not like that. He didn’t start things because he wasn’t interested, and he’s not interested in ending them either. He’s hella excited to start college, but the little triumvirate he, Christine, and Jeremy have formed complicates things. Michael is bad at navigating relationships at the best of times. How is he supposed to make sense of one that’s rapidly changing?

———-

Middleborough High hosts something called Project Graduation for the graduating seniors. After they receive their degrees (and pose for a million pictures with friends and relatives), they’re all loaded into a bus for a night of Good Clean Fun™. It’s the school’s way of making sure they don’t celebrate the end of their high school career by getting hammered and causing trouble. It’s the opposite of cool, but everybody goes, ‘cause it’ll be their last night together.

The school rents out the Palace Playland theme park for the entire night, ending at five AM, and sets them loose to ride all the rides, play all the games, and eat all the junky carnival food. Until a while past midnight, that’s what Michael does, always accompanied by Jeremy and Christine, but also by the other members of the Squip Squad. It’s fun, and it’s weird. It’s like after a year and a half of being in the same friend group as Chloe Valentine and yet incredibly unsure of her, she’s screaming in the seat in front of Michael on Splash Mountain and in that moment he loves her a little. It’s like he can watch Rich losing at one of those ring toss games, and for the first time ever, he can’t even find a trace of the kid who used to bully him. Michael’s friends are his friends, and he’s so lucky to have had them.

Much as Michael likes the amusement park ambiance, there’s only so much he can take in one go. That’s a thing with him. Voices are loud. Lights are bright. Things that are the funnest ever for four hours can get grating after five, and near unbearable after six.

Jeremy knows.

So does Christine.

“Let’s take a walk,” Christine suggests, so the three of them do. They weave their way through the rides and the food and the games, Christine’s hand in Michael’s, and Jeremy holding on to his shoulder. They find a grassy area a little behind the kiddy rides, which is mostly uninhabited, since high schoolers generally aren’t in the market for the teacups and choo choo trains when there are rollercoasters to conquered.

They sit down.

For a long time they don’t say anything. Michael leans back against a tree, and watches the ferris wheel lights from this new, safe distance. Jeremy leans back into Michael’s lap, and Christine leans back into Jeremy’s, and Michael revels in how good it can feel to be buried, at least when it means being buried by the best people he knows.

His favorite people.

And just like that, the thing starts with Michael’s throat, and then he has to take off his glasses and rub his eyes, ‘cause they’re getting into the act too.

Maybe Jeremy’s right. Maybe Michael should analyze what’s going on, and tell Christine before it’s too late. Maybe he should be all like ’yo, Christine, no big deal but I’m terrified that you won’t be a part of my life anymore after tonight, and terrified of how much it’s gonna hurt to lose you’.

Christine beats him to the punch.

“You two know I love you, right?” she says.

“We love you back,” says Jeremy. He elbows Michael, who can only nod.

“I’ll miss you so much,” she continues.

“Can we…” Michael swallows. He thinks he knows what he wants to say. It’s not even all that melodramatic or sappy! It’s just hard.

“Can we…?” Christine repeats.

Michael has to clear his throat. “I think I want a plan. For how we’re gonna keep in touch. Like a day. Jeremy and me are gonna room together, but you’re going to be in New York, and we should decide what day we’re gonna Skype, and whether or not we’re going to meet up over winter break, or if we’re never going to meet up again, because if this is it I need some time to get used to it.”

Christine turns to face Michael, frowning as though she’s a little perplexed. “Of course we’re going to meet up again.”

Where? Michael doesn’t say. When he doesn’t say either. He tries to smile. He’s not proud of the way the corners of his mouth keep turning downward of their own accord, no matter how hard he tries to make them behave.

Christine turns away. “We’ll Skype on Tuesdays,” she says. She wipes her eyes. “We’ll meet up the first day of winter break that we’re all back. And if you guys cry, I’m going to cry too.”

“I wouldn’t dream of crying,” says Michael, more than a little tearfully.

“We’re not going to cry,” Christine agrees. “You know why?”

“Why?” asks Michael.

“Because I’ve got cotton candy in my purse, and we’re going to eat that instead.”

Jeremy snorts out a surprised laugh, and Michael laughs, and Christine pulls the cotton candy out of her bag, brandishing it like it’s a flag. They don’t say anything more about the changes to come, but at least they’re together for now.