boxing lessons// boyf riends

1.8 part one

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sup guys I finally got a laptop so writing will be much much easier and updates may come faster.

also I think I have to start writing with actual proper uppercase and lowercase. I might go back and edit the other chapters to make it match, but I may leave them. What do you guys think?

Jeremy gulped nervously. Had I said something wrong? Is the avoiding me?  Thoughts swirled throughout Jeremy's mind like garbage in the ocean. It had been hours since Michael was supposed to be home. Rich had forgotten to give Jeremy his phone back after he had borrowed it to chat with Jake, therefore Jeremy couldn't call Michael. Jeremy knew that he couldn't call the police, Michael would have had to be missing for twenty-four hours for them to call it an actual  missing persons case. 

Jeremy paced nervously around the kitchen. "I'm sure he's fine, Jer," Squip said, trying to comfort him. 

"But what if he's not?" Jeremy blared, "What if he's hurt? What if he's dying somewhere and I don't know it? What kind of boyfriend would I be if I were to just strand him, probably curled up in a cell dying?" Jeremy released his stress through his words, screaming and crying out the things he had kept inside for so long. Squip could only watch, occasionally saying things of minor comfort and giving him a soft pat on the shoulder. 

The knock at the door broke Jeremy from his trance of burdened thoughts. It wasn't just a normal knock; it sounded panicked, almost scared. Sweat beaded Jeremy's forehead as he went and opened up the door. "Jeremy!" Rich was stood in the door frame, dismay pasted onto his face. "You have to see what Michael just texted me! You! Your phone! Whatever! Point is, I think Michael's in trouble." The feeling in Jeremy's head worsened immediately. 

"What? What happened?" Jeremy asked while he walked back into the kitchen with Rich. "Is he okay?" Rich sighed remorsefully and shook his head. Jeremy breathed in quickly. Squip crossed his arms and walked out, apparently unable to handle the stress. 

"I love you Jer, and I see that you're clearly very worried about him, so I don't want to worry you, but..." Rich trailed off for a moment after seeing Jeremy's face lose color. "It's better if I just show you." He reached into his tight jean pockets and pulled out the borrowed phone. "Here," He said as he placed the phone into Jeremy's shaking and sweaty hands. 

"Rich I'm scared," Jeremy whispered as he unlocked the phone and went into the messaged app. His trembling hands clicked slowly onto the conversation that had taken place while his phone was absent from his back pocket. Rich shook his head and looked away. Jeremy's eyes scanned over the screen, reading and re-reading the message. He could only make out the following words:

gang... help... hurt... 

"Oh god oh god!" Jeremy cried, slamming down the phone. "What do we do? What's our plan? What does it even mean?" Rich looked down bashfully, shaking his head. He didn't know. Jeremy beat the counter with his fists, exerting all his force, letting out his anger. "We need to help him!" Rich shrugged remorsefully. 

"I don't know what to do, Jeremy, I'm so sorry." He ran a hand through his slick red streak. "Why do you think he wrote gang?" Jeremy put a hand on his head, trying to calm his thoughts. 

"I don't know, Rich! You've known him for longer, you should know what he's talking about!" Jeremy screamed at the boy next to him. Rich flinched at his loud tone. Jeremy closed his eyes and took a deep breath, attempting to regain his composure. 

"There may be one person that might have a clue what he's talking about, or at least can figure it out. Can you drive?" Rich asked, thinking out loud. Jeremy turned quickly and grabbed the keys off the hook.