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After the SQUIP’s attempt to take over the world, Michael’s friend group underwent several renovations and revisions. He got his best friend Jeremy back, along with the addition of some new friends. The digital mental links between all the SQUIPed had built an understanding among them, an understanding of both each other’s insecurities and similar trauma. Through understanding came friendship. Jeremy, with a promise to never abandon him again, dragged Michael with him into this friendship. Michael didn’t feel the need to complain about this development.
Out of all of his new companions, Christine was probably the least surprising. While the rest were popular kids and ex-bulliers of Michael, she was closer to his status and speed. Her excitable attitude made her easy to talk to, and she was just dorky enough to have a similar sense of humor. She was also queer like him, although that did come with the caveat of her status as Jeremy’s ex.
“I wanted to like someone,” Christine explained. She and Michael laid in Michael’s basement, splayed across his beanbags. The clock had long ago struck 3:00am, and the lights long since turned off. Darkness consumed the basement. It walled the two off from each other, masking their faces, lifting the burden of keeping up appearances. The faux-anonymity allowed them to speak truths too personal to speak in the light. She continued, “A boy was preferable, but if a girl had asked me out, I think I still would’ve said yes. Anything to prove that I was normal, that I had feelings. I liked both Jake and Jeremy, and I thought that if I forced a relationship, I could make those feelings romantic.” She paused, a huff of air pushing its way out of her lungs. “I know, I know, that’s dumb, but-”
“Did you know that I used to have a girlfriend?” Michael interrupted. He heard her shift on her bean bag, likely looking at him as though she could see his expression through the darkness. “Her name was Nicole. I think she moved away freshman year, not sure.”
Christine gave a soft laugh of disbelief. “You, the gayest of the gays, Michael Mell, had a girlfriend?”
“I did, I did!” And now he was laughing too. “I don’t even remember how we started dating, I think she asked me to dance at one point and things just snowballed from there. It was crazy, man.” Michael chuckled, and the room settled back down. “As I’m sure you can probably guess, it uh, it didn’t end well. I ended up dating her for much longer than I should have, because I didn’t want to admit why I didn’t like her. I kinda already knew that I was gay and didn’t like girls, but I couldn’t make myself admit it to myself, and breaking up with Nicole? That meant admitting it.” Christine hummed. He reached out and set a hand on her shoulder. “What I’m trying to get at-- I get it. I know how it feels to force yourself into a relationship to make yourself “normal.” I think that’s something of a lot of queer people go through.”
Christine tilted her head, and her hair brushed his hand. “How did you know-” she said. “I mean, what made it click that you liked boys? Being aromantic, I didn’t have a specific “I’d tap that” moment, I had to become a feelings detective and investigate all of my past emotions to solve the mystery.” She moved her arms as she spoke, and while the exact hand positions were shadowed, Michael was pretty sure there had been jazz hands in there.
He sniggered. “Feelings detective... Christine, what is your brain?”
“It’s ADHD, thanks for asking.”
“To answer your question, I think it really hit me in eighth grade. There was one specific moment where my crush laughed at one of my jokes, and it just turned me to mush . I was so gay, Christine. So. Gay. I realized that that wasn’t a friendship feeling, and it was waaaay more than I had ever felt for Nicole, and it all kinda spiraled from there.”
“I gotta ask, who was the guy? Who started Michael Mell’s gay crisis?” Michael watched her grin, teeth barely visible in the darkness.
He wasn’t sure if he would’ve said what he did if not for the shadows filling the room. “It was kinda… Jeremy?”
“WHAT?!” And now Christine was hitting his shoulder.
He shushed her. “Christine, you’re gonna wake up my moms.”
“YOU HAD A CRUSH ON JEREMY HEERE?” Christine stage-whispered, hands still tapping him. Michael was pretty sure Christine wouldn’t have had any volume control if not for theater.
“Have,” he corrected, his voice a real whisper. Thank God, thank everything for the darkness.
She let up from hitting his shoulder, and after a second of stillness, reached down to hold Michael’s shaking hand. He murmured, “Don’t tell anyone, no one else knows. You’re- you’re the first.”
“Michael...” Christine’s voice volume now matched his, barely loud enough to be heard. “Thank you for telling me. I won’t tell anyone, I would never.”
He squeezed her hand. “That means a lot.”
“You know, when you think about it, this is a super weird situation. Like, you’re telling me that you like my ex-boyfriend.”
“Oh my god,” Michael snickered. “You’re right. Christine, I wanna date your ex.”
And then she was laughing too, “The ex who is also your best friend!”
It seemed to be years before they stopped giggling. As soon as it seemed to be calming down, one whisper of “ex” brought on a new wave.
“Now, Christine,” Michael warned, voice laced with humor, “I know Jeremy didn’t meet your standards for a boyfriend, but he meets mine, and I would really appreciate it if you didn’t get jealous.”
“Ah, yes, my standards.” Christine held up her hand as though holding a wine glass. “I’m just too good for him, he wasn’t… imaginary enough.” She sipped from her nonexistent cup.
That seemed to be their cue to continue busting a gut.
Eventually, they stopped giggling, and the room sobered. “Michael…” Christine said.
He looked over at her. “Yeah, Christine?”
“Why haven’t you told Jeremy? It’s been years.”
Michael felt himself sinking into the bean bag and wishing he could go deeper. “I didn’t think there was a point.” When Christine didn’t respond, he went on. “He’s been talking about you for years, before I had even considered my own feelings. When I finally connected the dots, he was way too deep in liking you.”
Christine hummed. “And why not since we broke up? That was months ago.”
“I mean, I wouldn’t have wanted to ask him right after,” Michael said. “But honestly? I’ve been his friend for twelve years. There was a phase after I came out to him back in freshman year where I wanted to tell Jeremy I liked him, but other than that I’ve never really thought about being anything other than friends. Dating Jeremy… that’s a fantasy for inside my head. It’s not a reality, and I’m pretty doubtful that it ever will be.”
Christine considered his words, then said, “What if he did like you?”
“Christine,” his voice strained, “he doesn’t. I know what Jeremy is like when he likes someone. He constantly has things to say about them, he can’t form sentences around them, and that’s… that’s far from how he acts around me. We’re best friends, and I love that. I’m not going to ask for anything else.”
She picked up her phone, and her eyes squinted near closed when she turned it on. “Ouch, that’s bright.”
“What time is it?” Michael asked.
“Time to sleep. Night, Romeo.” Christine set down the phone and slunk down to curl up in her sleeping bag.
He smiled at her, though she couldn’t see. His shoulders felt lighter, more relaxed. “Good night, Christine.”