Chapter Text
As teachers lectured about Spanish present perfect and students did popcorn reading of Shakespeare, Jeremy focused their processing power on predicting the outcome of the upcoming conversation with Christine. Michael and Jeremy had agreed to sit her down at lunch and explain everything that had happened to Jeremy since drinking the Mountain Dew mixture and onwards.
Jeremy was irrationally nervous about her reaction, constantly catching their body before it started chewing on their fingernails or picking at the hem of Michael's hoodie. As an alternative, their fingers drummed the old, familiar up-up-down-down-left-right pattern on their desk as they sorted out predictions from their algorithm. Their system was saying that there was an extremely high chance of Jeremy running away from the conversation just like they had last time, which made them want to call it quits there and then. But the algorithm was buggy, so… who knew? Besides, Michael wouldn't let them get away with chickening out on explaining things to Christine for a second time.
The lunch bell rang right as gym was wrapping up. (Jeremy was grateful for the respect the SQUIP had curried for Jeremy from teachers, or they wouldn't have gotten away with running laps in a hoodie. They made a mental note in their Notes app to launder the hoodie before returning it.) Jeremy tightened the drawstrings around their neck as they headed to the cafeteria.
Normally Michael left school grounds to go buy his own food, but he was slumming it with the rest of them, buying the stalest and shittiest Sun Chips and granola bars the school vending machines could provide. Michael had apparently already convinced Christine to sit with him. The two of them chatted away from opposite sides of a lunch table. As Jeremy approached from behind Christine, they hung back to listen to their conversation. Not to be creepy! Just to gauge the mood Christine was in!
"-and poor communication kills. Did you know that bad communication skills are the real leading cause of bullying in schools?" Christine was saying. Jeremy smiled, getting ready for the usual info-dump, but surprisingly, Christine sat straight up and leaned toward Michael. "Don't you think that's true?"
"I guess so," Michael said noncommittally, surprised to have been roped into a real conversation. "Since when are you on such an anti-bullying kick?"
"Yesterday I got to go to this amazing anti-bullying art expo. It really opened my eyes! There's all kinds of methods to deal with social problems, especially the ones that affect us personally," Christine said.
Michael snorted, taking a sip of his bottled water and frowning down at it like he'd been expecting blue raspberry instead of disappointing nothingness. "The schools are always pushing that kind of crap. Acting like they're solving the problem but, surprise, guys still shove your books over and laugh about it no matter how much art they get to appreciate. There's better ways to spend your time than obsessing over a problem you can't solve."
"Just because something doesn't work the first time doesn't mean it's not worth another shot," Christine said, and Jeremy didn't have to be looking at her to know her eyes were sparkling. How was Michael not enchanted?
"You wanna get back together with Jeremy," Michael said as though it were the logical next step. Jeremy started in place, almost dropping their lunch tray.
"I mean," Christine twirled her hair around a finger. "I'm not talking about boys. Not specifically. I'm just saying it's good to keep an open mind." Her hand jerked, tugging on her hair. It was a weird nervous gesture that Jeremy hadn't seen from her before. "Why the gross chips today, Michael? I thought you usually had sushi."
"How'd you know that?" Michael said. "I skipped Seven-Eleven today. Jeremy and I actually had something we wanted to talk to you about."
"Oh." Christine's voice got hollow, and Jeremy wondered if she was that upset about yesterday's incident that she couldn't even talk about Jeremy without getting upset. She really sounded bummed out when she added, "Well, feel free to share my chili fries 'til he gets here." She pushed the tray across the table to Michael, who didn't touch them.
"There's my official taste-tester now," Michael said more loudly, waving Jeremy over. That was their cue.
"Hey, Christine," they greeted her, sliding down beside Michael at the table. "Is it okay if I sit here?"
"Of course!" she said with unexpected warmth.
Jeremy cracked a lopsided smile, stirring their cheap cafeteria-issued pasta and taking a bite of it. They quickly analyzed its chemical composition-there were no traces of Mountain Dew ingredients, wintergreen coating, or SQUIP-patented metallic composition at all. Since the food was safe, they scooted the tray closer to Michael in silent offering.
Michael accepted the trade, wordlessly moving his sun chips in between them so Jeremy could snag a few. Christine watched them share food, looking at her chili fries and to the empty corner of the lunch table.
"So," she said over the chip crunching. "You were trying to say something to me?"
Jeremy gulped their bite of food down. This was it. This was the social moment their programming predicted that they were destined to fail at. "I need to say a lot of somethings, but I should probably begin with sorry."
Christine still looked antsy. "Sorry for what?"
"Sorry for, well, what all have I done in the last couple days?" Jeremy put their fork down. "Sorry I didn't respond to your texts. Sorry I've been MIA. Sorry for ditching you at lunch and I'm extra sorry for leaving you alone in the bathroom like that when you were just offering to help. I was getting overwhelmed and I wasn't sure what to do. I've been having a really hard time adjusting-" Michael elbowed Jeremy in the ribs. They'd gone over what a proper apology should be when they were preparing for this conversation since Jeremy still had a streak of egotism that Michael attributed to the SQUIP. No self-pity allowed. Right, whoops. "-but that doesn't make up for it. Sorry," they said again for good measure.
Christine's face was worryingly blank for a few seconds before she smiled. It was forced. "I forgive you, Jeremy. And can I just say how much I appreciate that you're taking the time to say this to me?" She paused, tilting her head. "If everybody could just be open like this all the time, the world would be a better place."
"You're pretty good at that already," Jeremy said, scuffing their heel against the table's legs. "At saying what you mean."
"Listening is important too," Christine said like she was trying to convince herself. "And I'm ready to hear what's going on with you."
"You must have a lot to say, too, though," Jeremy said eagerly, ready to redeem themself. Conversations with Christine were great because she tended to take care of most of the talking for them. "I ran away right when you brought up the SQUIP stuff."
Christine started to say something else but just said, "No, I want to hear you guys explain what happened. It started on Wednesday?"
Michael launched into a spiel from his point of view, talking about how he'd heard gossip from Rich and other students about Jeremy acting out in public late on Wednesday. As Michael talked about the frantic texts he got from Jeremy about the SQUIP's voice getting louder, Jeremy felt Christine's eyes settle on them. Jeremy didn't have anything to add yet so they kept quiet as the food on their tray and in the chip bag dwindled down to nothing. Michael's story was just at the point of when he'd shown up to Jeremy's house when Michael unconsciously reached for one of Christine's fries.
"Warning!" Jeremy said out loud as he grabbed for Michael's hand. The movement startled all three of them. Jeremy's ears burned and they felt themself start to sweat. It hadn't been an issue for a SQUIP to say things like "Warning" out loud to Jeremy, but it sounded robotic and weird when a person said it in a group, especially if a member of the group didn't know Jeremy was running a SQUIP OS. "Let me try one first," they said, mentally berating themself for the poor recovery.
Michael realized what Jeremy was reacting to and dropped the fry. They'd been good so far at sticking to Jeremy's paranoid rule about not eating unsealed foods without letting Jeremy check it for Mountain Dew-this was the first slip-up.
Christine, on the other hand, was looking at Jeremy like they'd sprouted a second head. "You were using computer terms yesterday, too," she realized slowly.
Jeremy grimaced, snatching one of Christine's fries and putting it in their mouth to taste it. "That's sort of what we wanted to talk to you abo-" They cut themself off mid-word.
The chili sauce was mostly tomatoes. Some meat and spices were in there too, along with the expected potato and grease and salt. But unmistakably, Jeremy tasted just the smallest, nigh-unnoticeable citrus twist of Mountain Dew.
Michael saw Jeremy's reaction, his face falling as though his stomach was also plummeting to somewhere deep in his guts. Michael reached over with his fork, heedlessly ruining Christine's lunch as he pushed sauce and potato and meat chunks aside to hunt for an oblong speck of gray. "Fuck," he was muttering. "Fuck fuck fuck."
Jeremy expected Christine to be flummoxed and ask what the heck was with their weird reaction to a plate of chili fries. They were already gearing up to launch into the explanation of how the entire student body was once again at risk of getting taken over by robots. But Christine didn't argue or shout or even look confused. She just locked eyes with Jeremy and quickly rattled off, "Up-up-down-down-left-right-A."
Jeremy gasped, feeling something sharp shoot through their skull.
Friend request from Christine Canigula.
The phrase wasn't even a real, verbalized thought. It was a series of words that Jeremy just suddenly knew, like Moses himself had come down from Mount Sinai and cracked a tablet with a divinely engraven friend request over their head.
Before Jeremy's eyes, light blue text flickered into being above Christine's head. Friend request from Christine Canigula, it confirmed. Jeremy laughed in disbelief, leaning away from the table. This had never happened before when a SQUIPped person joined the social network. Jeremy's SQUIP had always been the one initiating a social link, and a SQUIP would never ignore a pop-up like this. This was… new, to be given an option, and Jeremy almost collapsed with relief when they realized that they wouldn't and couldn't be sucked into the SQUIP hivemind against their will.
To accept the friend request would be an automatic process for a SQUIP, permanently linking Jeremy's consciousness with Christine's. It would also unite their SQUIPs, changing their one driving purpose into something that would benefit both SQUIP users and editing their actions to be compatible with each other.
Jeremy was almost tempted to accept the friend request out of curiosity, but to do so would possible wipe out their own mind in exchange for the SQUIP's hivemind. They were somewhat surprised to find out how revolted they were at the concept. Was this the free will that Michael was so insistent about?
Jeremy officially "ignored" the friend request. The optic nerve projection of light blue text faded to a transparent gray, leaving the option to accept the request open, but at least it wasn't pressing against Jeremy's mind urgently anymore.
Christine was still staring at them, waiting for a reaction. "What's supposed to happen now?" she said softly. Her gaze flickered back over to the empty corner of the table.
"You don't have to talk to it out loud," Jeremy corrected her. "It can read your mind."
"Whaaat is happening?" Michael said unsurely, even though he looked ready to start booking it away from the obviously SQUIPped Christine. "What's the Konami code doing to you guys?"
Christine was reaching out for Jeremy slowly, but there was a flash in her eyes and she jerked back. "There's something wrong with you," she said. "There's something really wrong with you."
"That's what we were trying to talk to you about!" They searched Christine, hoping to find some hint or clue or way to help her. But what could they do? If she already had the SQUIP, it was too late. Without Mountain Dew Red, she would have a broken AI controlling her body permanently with no way to fight back. Whatever conversation they were able to have, they wouldn't have it with Christine. "How did this even happen to y-" They looked down at the Dew-laced chili fries, then back up. "The free refreshments!" they said accusingly. "The bullying expo at the other school! They've been SQUIPping people there!"
Jeremy felt a hand on their arm, tugging them away. "Not yet, Michael!" they said, jerking their arm forward. "How can you guys even afford all those SQUIPs? I get that you're trying to take over the area but this kind of resource allotment is unprecedented-"
Christine sniffed. What was she thinking? Was she fighting the SQUIP's influence? Or did she see Jeremy the same way they saw her: a lost cause, pitiful but beyond her help? "If you really wanted to talk about it, you would social link with me," she said insistently, pushing herself up from the table. "There's something wrong with your software, Jeremy. Let me in. Let me figure out what it is. It wouldn't even hurt. Just a quick diagnostic and we'll get you functional again!"
Michael was still grabbing at Jeremy like he expected Christine to start shoving chili fries down his throat. "Please don't encourage the evil supercomputer," he said, getting a fistful of the red hoodie and pulling Jeremy up from the table. "Let's go let's go let's leave let's go."
"Michael!" Christine laughed. Her face shone like a spotlight was on it. "You don't need to run! We're not in a hurry." Her head tilted. "You want Jeremy to get fixed too, right? We're not enemies!"
"You snuck a fucking SQUIP into my food," Michael snapped, jabbing a finger at the chili fries. "Christine, I don't care what self-help bullshit it's saying to you. You can't drug people to make them communicate better!"
"It's not a drug!" Christine and Jeremy said simultaneously. But as Jeremy watched Michael, a few things seemed off. His mouth was trembling, his eyes were wider than they should be, and his voice was shaking. Obvious fear responses.
"Keep away from us," Michael was saying. "Keep away from him!"
Michael was terrified. And here Jeremy was trying to reason with the glitchy SQUIP.
"You'll get a SQUIP sooner or later," Christine said. She held up the cooling chili fries like an offering on a golden platter. "Why not now? It makes everything so much easier."
Jeremy had stayed there long enough. They laced their fingers through Michael's and hauled ass across the cafeteria, sweat beading on the back of their neck. Jeremy wasn't scared for themself. They were essentially immune to any harm the SQUIP could cause. But Michael was terrified and that made Jeremy scared for him.
"We should go," Michael said beside them as they ducked out of the cafeteria. Jeremy turned once to see if Christine was chasing them-she wasn't. She was picking through the discarded chili fries to save the SQUIP for later. Yuck. "Out of the school, I mean. Maybe out of the country."
"It's not that bad," Jeremy said, frowning at Christine through the cafeteria doorway. "She was willing to talk about it instead of going all Apocalypse-of-the-Damned on us. There's no immediate goal that requires her to force a SQUIP on anybody yet."
"Not that bad?" Michael shrieked. "I thought you were overreacting at the mall with your sealed-food rule but you were underreacting! She was fine yesterday. Yesterday! And now she just tried to force-feed us an evil robot! Oh my god." Michael hunched over. "We're all gonna die. Rich's gonna go brain-dead and the teachers are gonna make us drink SQUIPs instead of water at gym and you're gonna get absorbed into the collective and we're all gonna die."
"No one's dying!" Jeremy retorted. They crouched down, trying to meet Michael's eyes. "The worst case scenario is bad. But SQUIPs aren't gonna kill you."
"Tell that to Rich," Michael said.
Jeremy couldn't deny that. "We have a plan already, remember? You go online, try to figure out a solution for the Mountain Dew Red shortage, and you don't eat anything potentially dangerous in the meantime. Christine being SQUIPped is bad but it doesn't get in the way of anything we were going to do. So we're okay. Okay? Just breathe." Jeremy had the sudden weird urge to take over Michael's nervous system and regulate his breathing for him. That was probably an unhealthy impulse. They did the next best thing, demonstrating a nice slow breath in and out. "In. Out. In. Out. You're fine, Michael. We're safe."
Michael huffed, standing up straight again after a few breaths and glancing behind them. "She's really not following us?"
Jeremy shook their head. "She believes I'm defective. Maybe she thinks it's contagious." They gave Michael a smile that he cautiously mirrored.
"Ugh…" Michael sounded calmer. Good. "Poor Christine."
Jeremy was trying not to think about never-hurt-a-fly, boundless-energy, infinitely-excitable Christine being shocked into compliance by her SQUIP. Those thoughts were not productive, Jeremy. Only one is mine. "Yeah."
"We should check in with Rich," Michael said in a small voice.
"I've got study hall with him again next period. I'll make sure he's still analog." Jeremy cringed at the thought of having to get Rich alone and make sure he was safe. That wouldn't go over well. "Are you gonna be okay?"
"Hah. I'm the SQUIP-killer, remember? I'll be fine." There was a reason Michael hadn't tried out for the school play. His acting skills were sub-par at best.
"Yeah, you will be," Jeremy said insistently, clapping their hand on Michael's back. "Stay away from Christine. If you get SQUIP vibes from anyone else, text me. I'll be your meat shield since they can't do me any damage."
Michael looked suspicious. "Why can't they?"
"I'm already SQUIPped," Jeremy said with a shrug. "They can't make me any worse than I already am."
"Alright," Michael said. "I'll be your boring escort mission."
"And I'll be your even boring-er Rich cutscene." They grinned at each other. Fighting SQUIPs really was like a video game. A video game where all your party members only have one life, and where there was a notoriously unwinnable level coming up, and where you couldn't stop playing whether you wanted to or not. Michael and Jeremy's shoulders slumped, both thinking along the same lines.
"It's chill," Jeremy said, forcing their voice to sound encouraging. "You know why SQUIPs are programmed to be able to beat any video game?"
Michael said, "Because programmers are universally geeks?"
"Nuh-uh. Because we've got cheat codes. And as for Jeremy, you mentioned he went through a coding phase?" They wiggled their fingers on an imaginary keyboard. "If they can't get in my mind, they can't know what I'm doing. I'll turn on the damn console commands if I have to."
"The video game metaphor's getting a little murky, Jeremy," Michael said. It was working, though: Michael's spirits were rousing.
Jeremy smirked. "Then I'll say it like a human: Those preprogrammed fuckers aren't gonna know what hit 'em."