1.

"You should really come to this party."

"I told my parents that I would help out this weekend at the shop," Tweek mumbled. Craig had been bothering him about this all day. "There's a, um, a benefit. On Saturday."

"Yeah, but the party's on Friday night, so it's not really the weekend then, is it?" he pressed, adjusting his backpack as a few more kids trickled into the classroom and found their seats.

Tweek looked up at Craig from his desk and frowned. "Craig, I - I have to be up early on Saturday."

"And that's why you should go," Craig insisted. He pulled his hat off and stuffed it into his jacket pocket when their teacher made it to the classroom. "You'll be basking in the afterglow of a good time."

Tweek chewed his lip and stared at the corner of the classroom.

"I'll come by and help on Saturday," Craig offered.

Tweek sputtered. "Why? So you can nurse a hangover in front of a bunch of cops? You hate cops. And you don't know the first th-thing about making -"

"If that's what it takes to get you out of the house, then yeah, I'll do it. You can teach me about all the lattes and macchiatos and double shot, non-fat, two-pumps-of-whatever-the-fuck, or I'll just keep you company, whatever." The bell had rung halfway through Craig's insistence, but he kept going on anyway.

Tweek clicked his pen nervously as Craig finally took his seat a row over from him. The lights dimmed and a short movie was put on for the biology class to take notes on. Craig kept trying to catch Tweek's eye.

He caved with a gruff and too-loud "okay." Craig gave him an enthusiastic thumb's up, but his choice of finger, and to whom the gesture was directed, quickly changed when their teacher looked up suspiciously from the desk.

Craig caught up with him after school. The sun was already dipping toward the mountain peaks, casting everything in a too-long shadow. Daylight was a commodity South Park didn't take for granted, especially in the winter months, which was why Tweek had started to walk home when he felt up to it. He didn't particularly like the cold, or the additional twenty minutes shaved off his day before his parents got home, but he always felt better about himself when he got home rosy-cheeked and winded.

"Do you want a ride?" Craig asked him. He had taken to spinning his keys around his fingers obnoxiously when school let out, letting everyone in his immediate vicinity know that Craig Tucker had a car. Clyde and Token were with him, hanging a few feet back and talking with each other.

Tweek glanced down the street, then back at Craig. "Sure."

Craig tossed his head in the direction of the parking lot and Tweek started off in tow. He was careful to step over a heap of hardened, discolored snow that had been plowed to the edge of the sidewalk.

"You're coming to the party on Friday?" Clyde asked.

"Yeah," Tweek answered quickly.

Token unshouldered his messenger bag as they made it to Craig's car, a slightly rusty beater that was probably as old, if not older, than each of them. "I don't think it's going to be all Cartman's making it out to be," he mumbled, sliding the bag into the middle seat in the back. Clyde circled the car and opened the back, leaving Tweek to stall awkwardly at the passenger side door. "Just because his mom's gone for the weekend doesn't mean he's capable of putting together… I don't know, he's just talking too much."

"Heidi got Kind of Incredible on board to do a show," Clyde said. "Which is actually, you know, kind of incredible."

"What?"

Tweek sidled into the seat next to Craig, hugging his backpack to his chest.

"Yeah. Didn't you see the invite?" Clyde asked.

"No. I figured it was a word-of-mouth invite," Token said, leaning over as Clyde unfurled a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket.

Craig started his car on the second try. It squealed to life unreliably under the four of them.

"No way."

"Yeah, way," Craig added, leaning over his seat to look at the hand-written invite scrawled on lined paper. "Kenny's bringing booze. His parents are pretty far gone on Friday nights - I doubt they'd notice."

Token laughed. "Make sure you remind him which bottles are filled with water."

"Heidi said she planned the party anyway. It's just Cartman taking the credit for it, as usual," Craig continued. He turned the heat on full blast. Tweek winced as he got a faceful of freezing air as the car began to warm up.

"How'd she end up roping Kind of Incredible into coming out to South Park?" Token asked, clearly suspicious.

"She ran into them at one of Cartman's football games," Clyde said. He handed the invite to Token. "I don't know, with all the time he spends on the bench, she's got to do something to keep her occupied."

Craig sniggered and Tweek cracked a smile at the jab.

"There's a cover charge?" Token asked, crumpling the paper again. "He's back to trying to make money off us, isn't he?"

"It's for the band," Craig quipped. "Or at least, I think it is. Like I said, Heidi's the mastermind behind all this." He revved the engine a little as warm air began to make its way into the cabin. Craig turned to face Tweek as he put the car in reverse, then braced his hand on Tweek's shoulder as he twisted his neck to watch for other cars as he backed out of his space.

"Still, a little stingy, isn't it?" Token continued.

"Oh, shut up," Clyde groaned. "You sound like Kyle."

"Racist, much?"

"Come on, Token. It's not like you can't afford it. Cartman said you can bring booze to share if you don't want to cough up a few bucks anyway."

Craig took his hand off Tweek's shoulder when they peeled out of the lot. "You doing all right?"

Tweek looked over to Craig who was stealing glances from the road at him. "Yeah, thanks," he answered.

"I thought you said Kenny was bringing booze," Token argued, shifting in his seat. Craig looked into the rearview mirror.

"Put your seatbelt on."

"Well, yeah, he is. But like, one person's not going to supply a whole damn party with alcohol," Clyde responded. "His parents drink too much, but they know how fast they go through their stash."

"All right, all right. I'll see what I can come up with," Token mumbled.

Craig slammed on his brakes as he neared an intersection. Tweek's stomach flipped and he squeezed his bag so tight that he could feel the corner of a textbook digging into his arm.

"Dude!" Token hissed from the back seat.

"It's icy out," Craig answered smugly. "Put your damn seatbelt on. I'm not getting a fucking ticket because you're too proud to wear the damn thing."

"Harsh," Clyde said. "No, but really though. You're going to have to drive us to Cartman's place on Friday."

"Sober ca-a-ab!" Token rang out next to him, gripping at the back of Craig's seat. "No drinky for you!"

"I said I'd get you there," Craig shot back. "Not that I'd get you home."

"For real, man?"

Craig snorted. "I can hold my liquor. But if you toss your cookies in my baby, I'm gonna beat the shit out of you."

"That's a hate crime," Token jibed back. They pulled up to his house and he gathered his messenger bag. "Hope you treat Tweek a little better than you treat your baby," he continued as he got out, smoothing out the wrinkles in one of his many jackets.

Tweek let out a groan.

Craig pressed his fist against the window, slowly unfurling his middle finger. Token started toward the front door of his big house, laughing, and flipped Craig off too. The tires squealed and Craig pulled off faster than he needed to.

Clyde's house wasn't much farther. Tweek spent the trip mostly quiet as they jeered at each other. When Clyde had disappeared into his house, Tweek took a deep breath as they idled outside on the curb.

"You still doing all right?" Craig asked.

"Yep," Tweek answered. He looked over at Craig. His hair was stuffed messily under his blue hat, sticking out at odd directions. Tweek wasn't sure his hair looked much better.

"Did you wanna go grab a bite?" he offered.

"No, I kinda just want to head home."

"Long day, huh?" Craig asked as they set off a third time.

"Little bit," Tweek answered honestly. He resituated himself in his seat and put his backpack at his feet.

They didn't share too many classes anymore. They both took the basic core classes that the school required, but their interests had drifted apart when they had been given the freedom to choose some of their own courses. Tweek had declined to take additional physical education courses, where Craig excelled and enjoyed himself. When Tweek signed up for a cooking class, Craig had opted to take shop. As a consequence, their core classes had staggered such that they rarely even shared those together. Tweek didn't mind so much; it gave them something to talk about.

"What's goin' on?"

"There's some tests coming up. I've been working a lot and, y'know, just helping with the coffee shop and everything." Tweek pulled his eyes away from Craig and stared out at the snow-covered lawns as they drove. "I don't… I don't really mind, y'know, I-I just haven't had a whole lot of free time lately."

"I've noticed," he started sincerely. "I can come over and help you study if you want," Craig offered.

Tweek snorted.

"Hey, I really mean it. It won't devolve into Call of Duty again. Promise."

"I thought you were into Battlegrounds now," Tweek answered snidely.

"Your laptop's too shitty to play at your house," Craig shot off.

"H-Hey," Tweek hissed. "But it's nice of you to, y'know, offer. I've been having a tough time concentrating… But, I mean, if your notes are like, legible, I wouldn't mind borrowing those for a little bit."

Craig was quiet for a few moments.

"You haven't been taking notes, have you?"

"Naw, not really. There's not really much of a point. None of this stuff is gonna matter in a few years anyway. But I'm not like, failing or anything. Or at least, I don't think so, anyway."

"You don't think so?" Tweek asked suspiciously.

Craig groaned. "No, I'm not failing anything right now. Look, the point is if you're having problems concentrating, I can try to help keep you on track. Like, give you pep talks, bring you snacks, proof-read your stuff, I don't know."

"You c-can read?" Tweek teased. "Besides, I thought you said cheerleading is dumb."

Craig chuckled and shook his head. "It is, okay? But I'll do it for you, if that's what you need."

Tweek chewed his lower lip for a moment, thinking how best to thank Craig for his sincerity. "That's pretty gay, you know."

"Yeah," he acknowledged. "It is."

They pulled up to Tweek's two-story purple house and he took his seatbelt off, scooping his backpack up off the floor and slinging it over his back.

"Thanks for the ride," he said quickly. Tweek was turning to head toward his porch, but Craig was getting out of his car.

"Can I ask you something?"

Tweek stopped on his un-shoveled walkway and stared at Craig expectantly. Craig searched his pockets and came up with a crumpled pack of cigarettes, stuck one in his mouth, and leaned away from the cold wind to light it.

"Uh, yeah. Go ahead."

"Do you want to go to the party on Friday?" Craig asked. He exhaled a plume of smoke clumsily and Tweek turned his gaze skyward.

"Yeah, duh. I already t-told you, Craig, I'll go to Cartman's party, okay?"

"No, that's not what I mean." Craig was leaning against his car with his hip, long legs crossed and propped on the curb. "Like, do you actually want to go? I'm not trying to pressure you into it, really. I know it sounds like I am, but that's not what I really mean." His words were coming out in a rush. "I just… Tweek, you said so yourself that you've been busy. You haven't been hanging out with us much, and… and that's okay and everything. I just want to make sure that you're okay. That you have some time to have fun and get your mind off of everything."

Tweek clenched his jaw, a little startled at Craig's words. "Yeah. Yeah, I do want to come."

"Okay." Craig took another painful drag off his cigarette. Tweek wasn't so sure that Craig was actually inhaling the smoke - it seemed to be something that Craig had picked up because he thought it was cool. "Okay, good."

"Yeah. Okay, I'll see you t-tomorrow."

"I'll pick you up," Craig called after him as Tweek started toward his house again. "Tomorrow, for school, I mean. And for the party, too."

"Just be on time," Tweek answered, waving at Craig to leave.

Craig hadn't been on time. Not to pick him up for school on Thursday, and not on Friday for the party either. He didn't really mind it, not really, but he liked to remind Craig of this because it seemed to bother Craig.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. But who ever shows up on time to a party anyway?" Craig blurted as they climbed into his car.

Tweek's mom flickered the porch light a few times as a sendoff. "We still have to get Token and Clyde?"

"Yeah, is that okay?" Craig asked.

Tweek shrugged. "Sure."

They set off. It had been easier than he had wanted it to be to get permission from his parents to go out to a sketchy party on a Friday night, especially knowing full well he had to work the next morning. They hadn't even mentioned it, even as Tweek paid no heed to insisting the party would be supervised, safe, or mundane. Tweek wondered if maybe his parents were on the same page as Craig was, worried he was regressing back to his quiet, reclusive behavior from middle school. Maybe he was. He wasn't worried about it. Tweek learned early on that he needn't - couldn't - put stock in the opinions of others. Maybe they were just happy that Craig was back in the picture. They liked Craig. They liked that Tweek liked Craig. They liked the complicated tip-toeing that constituted their relationship. Tweek wasn't sure what he thought about that. He supposed he shouldn't care in any case, anyway.

"Tweek?"

"Oh, uh-huh?" He realized Craig had been trying to talk to him.

"I'm excited," Craig said, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. Tweek smiled a little to himself, looking out the window because Craig rarely talked about his feelings to anyone. It was nice to have a no-holds-bar relationship with someone. He was grateful, in a way.

"Me too," Tweek answered.

Craig turned the radio down a little. "You know, I think this is the first like, real party we've been to together."

"Oh?"

"You know what I mean. It's not like a birthday party where everyone's just, hanging out and playing games and stuff. It's kind of exciting," Craig continued.

Tweek nodded. He started rolling his chapped lower lip between his teeth.

"Are you nervous?" Tweek asked.

Craig sputtered. "What? No!"

"You sound kind of n-nervous. You're talking about it a bunch."

"Oh, come on, Tweek," Craig groaned.

Tweek leaned forward to catch Craig's eye. "You don't know if this is going to be as crazy as it's cracked up to be. Could be more c-crazy, actually. I'm a little nervous," he admitted.

Craig was quiet for a moment. "You're nervous?" he asked slowly.

"Well, yeah. I haven't really been to a party party before," Tweek explained. He palmed his knees a bit to keep them from sweating too much.

"What, really?"

"Yeah. Why, is that weird?" Tweek asked earnestly.

"No," Craig blurted. "No, it's not weird at all, actually."

Tweek watched the streetlights pass above him for a moment before asking, "Where have you been to parties before, anyway?"

"Oh, I mean, we go to Cartman's football games sometimes. Even if he doesn't really play, he's still a part of the team, and y'know… one thing leads to another," Craig answered behind a chuckle.

"I have a feeling most of the team is more in it for those parties, then," Tweek said.

Craig laughed. "Yeah, that's probably why we've lost like, every game this year."

Tweek let out a noise of agreement.

Craig glanced over at him as they idled at a streetlight. "Would you want to go to a football game sometime?"

"Oh, I don't really care about sports, C-Craig," Tweek answered with a shrug.

"Yeah, I know. I mean, I don't really care too much about it myself, but it's kinda nice. It's cold out-"

Tweek fussed at that.

"But there's hot chocolate, and grilled hotdogs," Craig recovered. "Popcorn. Coffee. It'll be nice. Stan and Kyle asked me about you the other day - we haven't gotten together as a group for a while."

"Okay," Tweek answered, mostly to end the conversation. They were pulling into Clyde's driveway. Before they even stopped, he came barrelling out of the house with a bag slung over his shoulder.

"Took you fucking long enough!" Clyde howled. His bag clinked suspiciously as he slid it across the bench seat. "And you don't have Token yet, either. Jesus Christ, we're going to miss the damn party!"

"Dude, chill. We'll get there," Craig huffed, the affection gone from his voice.

"Hey, Tweek," Clyde grinned and shuffled through his bag as they pulled back out onto the dark, snowy streets. He came up with a bottle.

"Hey," Tweek replied, glancing into the back seat.

"Want some?" He took a pull of the beer and thrust it toward Tweek over the center console.

"N-No, thanks," Tweek answered quickly, facing forward again as he started to fidget.

"Dude. Open container," Craig hissed.

"Rela-a-ax," Clyde hummed, taking another long pull off his drink.

"Not your car. You spill that, I'm leaving you on the side of the road."

"Oh, so the legality of the situation isn't what bothers you?" Clyde drawled, twirling the bottle in his hand. After another sip, he shoved the bottle cap clumsily overtop the bottle's mouth. "Nothin' wrong with a little pregame action."

They slowed to a stop outside Token's house, who came out looking dressed to kill. He always dressed nicely, but he'd combed out his hair and donned a pair of expensive-looking slacks. Everything about him looked expensive.

"Dude, way to show us all up," Clyde grumbled, shifting in his seat to face Token.

"It's not my fault you buy graphic T's and ratty jeans," Token answered melodically.

Tweek looked down at his own jeans. A fray was beginning to form on his left knee. He thought his shirt was pretty nice though - a button down, buttoned correctly, in pale green with little designs decorating it somewhat randomly.

"Well, I think you look nice, Tweek," Craig drawled. Tweek looked up at him, eyebrows raised.

"Gross," Clyde moaned from the back.

"What, you jealous?" Craig continued, staring at him pointedly in the rearview mirror.

Clyde groaned loudly. "Fuck, no dude, just drive."

"Are you shitfaced already?" Token asked. Tweek was thankful the attention was turned off him.

"I already said there's nothing wrong with pregaming," Clyde mumbled. He held up the bottle he'd opened in the car.

"There is if you don't share!" Token huffed, scrambling to get ahold of the bottle.

Craig slammed on the brake again as they approached a stoplight. "No food or drink in my car!"

Tweek shrank into his seat a bit. When Craig finished glaring down the two in the backseat, he put his hand on Tweek's knee and mouthed a silent "sorry."

Clyde and Token continued to antagonize each other in the back seat. Tweek had acknowledged that Craig was much less talkative when there were other people around. It was something that he had become comfortable with long ago. It was a little comforting, actually, knowing that he was privy to a side of himself that Craig typically kept hidden. Tweek suspected he did much the same, though it wasn't intentional. He was quiet because he had too much to say, and it usually came out all at once, and it was just easier to keep it to himself. Clyde and Token, Tweek supposed, were loud and talkative because they didn't have much to say at all.

They arrived after a few more minutes. Tweek tried to fight the knot growing in the pit of his stomach, but it returned in full force at the long lines of cars parked up and down the otherwise deserted residential street. Cartman's house was brightly lit. There were kids outside, talking, laughing, smoking, drinks in their hands. There were no doubt much more inside, and Tweek wasn't exactly sure he was comfortable with the idea.

Clyde came tumbling out of the car before they had even found a parking spot. Token sighed in annoyance, apologized to Craig, and climbed out after Clyde. Tweek watched the two of them struggling with the bag of alcohol between them across the icy street, through the snow, and up the steps to the house.

"Man, I think you're right," Craig mumbled, glancing over to Tweek. "This might be a bit more than I was bargaining for."

Tweek let out a small noise somewhere between worry and agreement. Craig found a parking spot in front of someone's mailbox and lamented that he should probably find a different space, but he hoped they'd be fine. Tweek could hear his heartbeat in his ears.

"Hey, Tweek?"

It was a casual question, with Craig's eyes focused only briefly on Tweek. "Thanks. I know this isn't really our type of thing, but, you know," Craig trailed off briefly, his grin easy, "we can't let it pass us by now, can we? Come on."

Tweek took a deep breath and pulled himself out of the passenger side of Craig's familiar car. He'd been to Cartman's place, but not like this. They walked a few more paces together toward the party. The party party. From this distance, Tweek narrowed his eyes and could distinguish through the continued obscurity, a rush of well-dressed girls, all glitter and shine. He felt a bit underdressed for a moment, but reminded himself that it didn't matter. He took a moment to turn toward Craig silently, which solidified the notion that no, tonight would not be like any normal Friday night. Craig's smile widened, Tweek's worry deepened, and he had to pick up his pace to match Craig's expedited gait toward the buzz of queuing students Tweek could hardly recognize.