Jeremy.
He was holding someone's hand. He couldn't see their face.
Hold on to me.
He could see a smile in the inky dark, familiar, sad. He wouldn't let go for anything in the world.
Don't be afraid.
He wasn't, not until his companion let him go. Jeremy reached out, to grab their hand, but they were too far away now, so far away, too far.
come back come back
.
.
.
Jeremy was staring at the popcorn ceiling of his room, groggy and irritated. He didn't want to be up yet, it was too early, but he had things to do and putting them off would just inconvenience everyone else. He rolled over with an overdramatic groan and reached for his phone, unplugging it from the charger.
Five text messages from Michael.
"i know it's late. can't sleep. do we need a potato ricer?"
"what about a cassette player"
"i'm taking your lack of response as a yes"
"about the potato ricer"
"i'm bringing over McDonalds"
That last one was only from a half hour ago. Michael would probably be here any minute, and he'd need to be awake enough to help his dad transport heavy furniture out of his room down into the awaiting U-Haul. He was moving out today, officially, from his dad's place, the house he'd grown up in, and into a shitty apartment with Michael. It only had one bathroom and the online reviews said the place had a roach problem, but Jeremy was still excited about it. Progress. Another step forward.
It was hard to believe it'd already been over a year.
He still struggled sometimes, with the grief, but it was better. Easier. He didn't feel like he was missing an entire chunk of himself anymore; life had filled it in, with conversation and tiny accomplishments until he was a whole person again. Himself. Jeremy. He still missed Squip, though. A lot.
Well. Time to start the day.
Jeremy dragged himself out of bed and started throwing the last of his things into a box. Everything else was already packed, sealed, and ready to go, meaning they could head out as soon as they finished eating. Christine was supposed to meet them later to help them unpack once they moved everything into the apartment. He heard the doorbell ring and his dad call him from downstairs, but Jeremy wasn't ready to leave. Not just yet. The room looked disproportionately small now with everything stripped down to its bare essentials and stashed away.
He felt a little sad to see it like that.
"Yo, Jere, I bought you hot cakes! Hurry and wake the hell up."
"I'm up, I'm coming, chill out." Jeremy picked up the final box and finally stepped out of his now former bedroom, trudging carefully down the stairs, toward a new beginning.
"Jesus Christ, is that it?" Jeremy collapsed onto the couch, the box he'd been holding resting in his lap. Getting everything stuffed inside the U-Haul and then up two flights of stairs had taken much longer than he thought it would. Jeremy didn't even think he had that much stuff until it was all shoved into boxes, and combined with both his and Michael's furniture it'd become a chaotic frenzy to get everything into the bedroom between rain showers. Because, of course, with Jeremy's luck, the 20% chance of rain predicted for the day had skyrocketed to 100. He was tired, sore, and uncomfortably damp.
"Yep. All empty down there." His dad was red in the face and disturbingly sweaty. "That's it."
"Cool, that's it."
"Need help with anything else, son?"
"No, dad, Michael and I have everything else covered."
"You sure?"
"Yeah."
"Okay, guess I'll just return the U-Haul then." His dad shuffled over to the door, keys in hand. "You can call me if you need anything. Let me know if that couch doesn't work out."
"I will. Thanks, dad." Jeremy smiled, and he would have gotten up to actually hug his father like a decent, well-adjusted human being, but his arms felt like noodles and the box on his lap was too heavy to move.
"Right. See ya, son."
"See you, dad."
His dad saluted, a little awkwardly, and Jeremy saluted in return, also awkwardly. Then he turned and left the apartment, shutting the badly-insulated door behind him. Jeremy sighed and dropped his head back against the couch cushions, eyes closed.
"Think your dad'll be okay?" Michael had already ripped open one of the boxes and was pulling out the guts.
"Yeah. He should be fine. He said he'd be fine." His dad was alone in their, well, his, house now. Jeremy felt a little guilty about it, and he shouldn't, but he did anyway. But his dad would be fine, he knew this day was coming. He'd warned him about it before the semester ended for the summer. So...
"When's Christine getting here?"
"Oh, shit, I was supposed to text her." Jeremy carefully slid the box from his lap, but he only really managed to tip it over onto its side, contents spilling out onto the cushions and floor since it hadn't been taped shut. He tried to shove it all back inside with one hand, texting Christine with the other. "She said she's on her way."
"Awesome."
This was nice. It was weird, but it was nice. Kind of like moving into his college dorm for the first time, but more permanent. Michael wasted no time in setting up his computer and things were already starting to feel a little homey. When Christine arrived, things picked up a little more. Jeremy had taken a brief power nap before she showed up, and she was ready to go immediately.
"You're really hyped about this." Jeremy crammed some random odds and ends into a desk drawer.
"I love helping people move. It's so fun, you know? Like a game, a puzzle, maybe? And you never know what you'll find. Like this Eminem shirt." Christine fished the shirt in question out of the box she'd been unloading. Jeremy stared at it blankly for a moment.
"Wow. I forgot I'd kept that thing." He forgot he even still had it. It must've been shoved unceremoniously to the bottom of his closet somewhere and stayed submerged until Jeremy started packing up his life. He hadn't even noticed it at the time, but he never actually sorted through any of his junk. Maybe that's why he had so many boxes full of unnecessary garbage.
"You want to keep it? I started a 'stuff-you-should-probably-get-rid-of' pile for you. I can toss it in there." Christine gestured to a small stack of things behind her.
"I..." Jeremy frowned a little, turning his attention back to his box. Who knew such a God-awful shirt could make him feel so... conflicted? He never liked Eminem, he only bought it because Squip had told him to, and it was just an uncomfortable reminder of all the awful shit that proceeded it. Yet, in a weird way, he still wanted to keep it. Maybe that was a problem? It was definitely a problem. Jeremy shrugged a little. "Yeah, get-- Get rid of it. Thanks."
Christine cheerfully flung the shirt into her pile and continued unpacking in silence, humming a tune Jeremy didn't quite recognize. His mood had dropped suddenly, and his stomach was twisting in knots. This was the last way he wanted to feel right now. He'd been doing so good recently. Damn it. He should have burned the shirt or something back in high school.
"Okay. I'm starving. Who's coming with me to get pizza?" Michael appeared in the doorway, chewing on what Jeremy could only identify as a piece of plastic. Gross.
"Oh! Me!" Christine hopped up excitedly. "I have coupons."
"I like the sound of that," Michael grinned. "Alright, Jeremy, hold down the fort. Don't work too hard."
"Yeah, yeah. Don't take too long; I might start chewing on the furniture if you haven't started already."
Michael's smile widened a little more and he rolled the piece of plastic between his teeth.
"You got it, dude."
"Michael, I want extra pineapple on mine." Christine was pushing Michael out of the room.
"I honestly can't tell if you're serious..."
Jeremy sat back and listened to his friend's chatter as they left, the sound of the door shutting, their footsteps disappearing down the hall. And then he was alone with just his thoughts for company. He shoved the box away from him and flopped down onto the floor. Jeremy was sick of unpacking, but he wasn't sure what else to do with himself until they got back. Organize the bathroom, maybe? Hang stuff up in the closet? Check for bugs? Take a nap? He sighed and scrubbed at his face, then laid there for a good ten minutes accomplishing nothing.
This was going to take forever.
He forced himself to sit up, glancing at the time on his phone, then slowly pushed himself to stand. Now that he thought about it, they were kind of missing a lot of things. Like toilet paper. And napkins. Soap. Michael and Christine were bringing back pizza but they couldn't live on that forever. The kitchen was barren, it needed to be stocked with something. There was a convenience store within walking distance; he could waste time by picking up some things, and everyone would be back by then, probably. Good plan. He had this independent adult thing down pat already.
The walk was nice enough. It was still a little too warm, but it was manageable. Once he actually got there he went a little overboard buying things, trying to use up as much time as possible, which he didn't realize until he had his arms full of bags and remembered he'd walked and not taken his car. The walk back became uncomfortable, the plastic handles digging painfully into his skin from their weight, and his already tired arms were even sorer than before. To make it worse he had to dump everything on the ground so he could actually get his keys out of his pocket, leaving him mildly agitated.
Maybe he should have taken that extra nap. No one needed to deal with his steadily increasing crankiness.
Jeremy went to unlock the door but paused when it gave a little, creaking open just slightly like it hadn't been closed all the way. He stared at it. He was completely certain that he'd locked it on his way out. Maybe Christine and Michael were back like he'd hoped?
"Hello?"
He bent down to scoop up the bags and nudged the door open further with his foot. The apartment was quiet; he couldn't see or hear anyone from where he was in the doorway. It was entirely possible he actually had forgotten to lock the door. Jeremy stepped inside, shuffling the bags around carefully and closing the door with his foot again.
"Guys? You back?" He dumped the bags on the floor, rubbing the red grooves they'd left in his arms, and stepped fully into the living room. "Guess I did forget to lock it..." he grumbled to himself. He'd really been hoping they'd be back by now. What was taking the pizza so long? Jeremy pulled out his phone to check it but was startled by movement out of the corner of his eye. Someone had just come out of his room. He looked up quickly.
"Mich--" Not Michael. That wasn't Michael. Dread filled every part of him, pooling in his stomach like lead.
"Yo." Alex leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, a lazy smile on his face. Jeremy could only stare helplessly. "Long time no see, Jeremy."
"You-- How did you--" He could barely speak. Jeremy could hear his heart thud in his ears. What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck. His eyes flicked to the inside of his room when he heard movement. Alex wasn't here alone. There was someone else in his room. He could see a faint outline of a person, the corner of his desk, his laptop taken apart and parts arranged neatly. "What--"
Alex turned his head to look behind him, probably at the other person he couldn't see.
"He's back, you know. Put the compressed air down, already." Jeremy could hear someone utter a quiet oh in response, hear metal clanking, the squeak of his old desk chair. Alex moved a little out of the doorway to make room as the other person walked up.
"Hey, Sweetheart."
It was his mother. Mom. Just standing there, smile uncertain, looking at him, actually literally physically there. Jeremy's mouth had gone completely dry. It felt like his lips were numb, blood whooshing in his ears.
His mom was in his apartment.
He hadn't seen or heard from her in years.
She was here with Alex.
Jeremy stumbled back a little, bracing himself against the back of the couch, aware that his mouth was moving but he couldn't actually get any words out. His mom was wringing her hands, that way he always remembered her doing when she was upset about something. When was the last time he'd blinked? Alex seemed to notice the tension because he was suddenly speaking, stepping over to him.
"Yeah, so, this is Linda. My host." Alex gestured a little, then wrapped an arm around Jeremy's shoulders, shepherding him over to the other side of the couch, forcing him to sit. "And, as you've noticed, also your mom. I guess this technically makes us brothers? Huh." He was chuckling as if he'd never considered that thought until literally just now. Alex was also still talking, but Jeremy was only half listening. It was hard to hear over the thudding in his ears, anyway.
"Got your bags all packed... Just waiting for Michael... Place isn't bad... Got any sweets, Linda's blood sugar is low and she hasn't eaten... Oh, cool, you went shopping."
Jeremy watched dumbly as Alex fished through the plastic bags on the floor, unable to move from the spot he'd been placed in. His brain was having a hard time keeping up. Everything felt surreal.
"You..." That was all Jeremy could manage to get out of his mouth after a while, and Alex looked back at him questioningly. The front door opened. Michael and Christine walked in, chattering excitedly, carrying pizzas. They both stopped after nearly running over Alex.
"Woah." Michael blinked repeatedly at Alex, mouth slack, while Christine just looked completely confused.
"Jeremy?"
"It's nice to see you again, Michael." His mom was speaking suddenly, the first time she'd piped up since unceremoniously appearing out of his room. Michael ripped his eyes away from Alex to look at Linda instead.
"Mrs-- Mrs. Heere?"
"Jeremy, you didn't say your mom was visiting. I would've bought an extra pizza." Christine's voice was chipper, but confused, maybe a little alarmed. There was obvious tension in the room and she wouldn't have a clue what was going on. Jeremy didn't know what was going on. Michael almost dropped the pizza he was holding but Alex caught it in time.
"Oh, awesome. Linda, pizza." Alex carried the pizza over to the counter, the only one in the room that was calm and relaxed.
Jeremy could see Michael constantly looking at him, then back at Alex, but he still couldn't bring himself to actually move. Or say anything. Or, well, think. Alex was handing Linda a slice of pizza and she reluctantly took it while eyeing Christine.
"You're Christine. I've heard so much about you."
"Really?" Christine smiled a little, finally setting down the pizza box she was holding. She glanced at Jeremy for a moment. "Jeremy, uh. He doesn't... Well, it's really nice to meet you. Are you staying?"
"Actually, we're just leaving. Alex, it's time to go, get the bags, please."
"What about her?" Alex pointed at Christine.
"Well..." Linda moved over to Christine, patting her shoulder, smiling. "We don't have a bag for you, but you're welcome to come along, if you like. We can buy you anything you need."
Christine's smile was a little more strained.
"Go where?"
"We'll let you know in the car." Alex had two bags slung over his shoulder and two boxes of pizza in his hand as he walked over to the couch, gently yanking Jeremy up by the arm with his free hand. He stood up quickly, head swimming, just letting Alex tug him along. Michael seemed to finally snap out of the stupor he was in.
"We're-- Wait, we are not going anywhere, what the hell--" But he was cut off by Alex giving him a shove, pushing him toward the door. He gave Michael's back a firm pat.
"Better if you just comply, Michael. Honestly."
Alex ushered them all out the door like sheep, Michael trying to interject protests, Jeremy following dumbly along and Linda closing and locking the door behind them. He could feel Christine nudge his shoulder, whispering.
"Jeremy, what's happening?"
He looked at her, still unblinking, eyes watering, and just shrugged. A weak lift and drop of his shoulders. Christine's face went from extremely confused to mildly perturbed in an instant.
"Come on, people, we're wasting daylight."
Jeremy looked back at his mom as the group of them fumbled down the stairs, pushed and prodded along as a herd, and she met his eyes just for an instant, then looked away. He turned forward again, letting Alex dictate the direction and feeling mildly relieved, because Jeremy no longer knew where anything in his life was going.