Awkward Conversations.

Bullshit conversations.

It's mid-November, and Jeremy's room is clouded with smoke, Not that Jeremy's that high. It's mostly Michael, if he's honest- Michael, who's sat with his back against the radiator in Jeremy's house- the radiator that's not switched on, even though it's November. Michael getting high in Jeremy's room, whilst his dad is away visiting his uncle for a few days. Jeremy has his duvet wrapped around his shoulders, because it's November, god damn it, and he's almost always cold at best of times. Jeremy just quietly picks at a loose thread on the Spiderman bedsheets, judging nine-year-old him for the choice of sheets that clearly did not match the calm blue-grey theme the rest of the room is tailored to, not including the many posters taped to the walls.

This isn't how it's supposed to be.

It's the first time they've been together alone since Jeremy had been discharged from the hospital a few weeks back, and by now, Michael's anxieties of whether Jeremy's going to be okay or not have all but been disproven enough so that the Filipino boy can't find any more reasons to let himself sympathise with Jeremy, because by all outward appearances he's doing fine. He has friends now, and that's- fine, why wouldn't it be?

Of course, if Michael still considered himself Jeremy's closest friend, he would've pointed out how pasty and sick he looks recently, or the heavy marks under his eyes that all but prove he hasn't been sleeping well, or the fact that he barely touches his food, or the fact that when he's around his friends, he doesn't look very comfortable, and he instinctively flinches wherever some of them come near him, or even make fast motions, mainly Rich and Jake, and Chloe, and he doesn't know what went on with Jeremy and Chloe, but if he was still Jeremy's best friend, he'd point out that whilst he's never been great at talking to girls, he seems outright terrified of Chloe, and that's not right. Or the way that he's doing more than one of his nervous tics, even right now, with the fiddling, and the nibbling the inside of his cheek.

But Michael isn't Jeremy's number one anymore. He hasn't been for months. And that's not his business, and he assumes Jeremy will think he's being plain stupid for picking stuff like that up. He doesn't want to get in an argument within five minutes of getting here. Maybe he's a more than a little selfish, but if he starts questioning the other boy, it becomes about him again, and Michael's sick of hearing about what Rich did, or what Jenna said, or how he and Christine kissed on stage at play rehearsal [he'd announced that at the lunch table with everyone there. Including Christine. it had been a sweet gesture, but almost everyone on the table cringed, other than Brooke, and including both Christine and Michael.] And so, he doesn't ask.

And so it's quiet. Uncomfortably quiet.

There's the slight rustle of blankets as Jeremy shifts a little, to get more comfortable on his bed, where he's sitting, and where Michael seems to be making a point of not to sit. Hence being on the floor, still smoking a joint.

"Uh, so- have you- seen- the new AOTD game trailer?"

Jeremy stammers, clearly trying to make conversation, caving in to the silence.

Michael exhales, smoke escaping his lips to mingle with the rest he's already breathed out and allowed to mix with the air. He would answer, but Jeremy seems to have taken it on himself to keep talking and just fill the silence with bullshit conversation. Michael doesn't mind all that much. Jeremy's voice is quite nice to listen to. Soft, yet also a little pitchy when he either gets passionate or awkward.