His hair hung in his eyes as he stared at the board. He could see through it though, his steel gray eyes focused. He glanced down at his worksheet and checked the board. Looked right..., he returned his attention to his paper. One corner of the paper was already done, his messy writing taking up most of the blank area. He chewed on his inner lip as he worked through more math problems, half-listening to the teacher explain in more detail to the students who didn't quite get it. Passing, amazingly, he was one of the few. It was barely, but hell, passing is passing. It was a difficult class, which was why he had skipped it previously. Pre-calculus. His brain just didn't work in the way the class demanded. He tried though, actually studied but always made little mistakes, which would then plummet his grade.
With a sigh, he finished the homework problems and went over them again. He was the only senior in the class, everyone in his grade had either taken it already or had it later in the day. But most seniors had taken it junior year, bastards. Not that he had many friends, he could always ask Token, he was good at math, but he didn't want to bother the other guy with pre-calc work.
Finally, the bell sounded and he shoved his folder in to his drawstring blue and black bag, shouldering it as he walked out into the noisy hall. He had everything he needed in his bag, so no need to stop off at his locker. He popped his earbuds into his ears for the walk to his upstairs class. He was one of the first to arrive and took his customary seat in the back, it overlooked outside, where the buses would park. Not the best, but sometimes the window would be open and there would be a breeze. One of his friends sat beside him, Ike Broflovski, weird to think about, that Kyle's kid brother would be his friend. He had skipped a few grades and was a junior at 15, he was taking college classes as he went to high school. Wicked smart guy, not just academically either. Ike kept his hair in a close buzz cut, though he claimed to have no interest in the military. He offered Craig a smile as he got his binder for class out.
"How's it going?"
"Usual," Craig's monotone was soft but Ike nodded in understanding.
"Do you need help with your homework?"
"At lunch, if you have time," Craig replied with a barely noticeable shrug.
"I do, you'll be in your usual spot?"
Craig nodded, his attention dragged to the front of the room as the teacher started talking.
Their conversation ended as they both became absorbed in the lesson, taking notes and Ike answering the occasional question. The bell rang, interrupting the teacher but she finished her sentence and warned them of the upcoming quiz. Craig groaned softly but put his binder away and popped his earbuds into his ears, pressing play on his iPod. He shuffled to the door with everyone else, his next class was in the next hall over. He nodded to Token and Clyde who were gathered at Clyde's locker, continuing to his next enthralling class.
He sat in his usual spot, middle of the row, nearest the door.
Three Days Grace blared in his ears, "The End Is Not The Answer", a favorite of his songs. His hair hung in his eyes as he stared at his notebook for this class. It also hid his earbuds in his ears. But if someone looked closely they could see the black cord.
The class started and he was jerked out of his music induced trance when the kid in front of him was passing a paper back. He reluctantly took his earbuds out and accepted the paper, passing the stack back as he stared at it. A quiz, over something they had read in class. He kept his head bent over the paper and wrote as legibly as possible, something he always had to try to do for things he had to turn in that were hand written.
As usual, he was one of the first ones done, and he flopped back into his seat, taking the class book out and reading more so he wouldn't have any homework. After all the quizzes had been handed in, they were instructed to read the rest of the class. Many groans echoed, but he didn't even look up, the book was interesting enough. He heard some kids whispering to one another, he heard his name but didn't bother turning, he only flipped them the bird, hoping the teacher wouldn't see.
His name was called and he inwardly groaned as the kids he had flipped off snickered. With reluctance, he packed his bag and stood at the desk.
"Hm?"
"You know that's offensive," she began.
"Mhm."
"Do you want to be written up?"
"No."
"Go see the counselor then Craig," she said this part softly, she was actually kind, sometimes.
He sighed as she wrote out a counselor slip for him. He accepted the green slip and as soon as he was out of the room, popped his earbuds into his ears. He walked slowly to the office, it wasn't that far, but he didn't want to go. It was going to cut into his next class, it might take all of it.
He handed the slip to the secretary and she dialed on the phone for Mackey. She told him to have a seat for now and so he flopped into the uncomfortable plastic chair and slouched with his elbows on his legs, face in his hands. It wasn't like he liked being sent to talk to Mackey, nothing ever came of it. He was pretty monosyllabic with him.
Sighing, he popped an earbud out and listened for Mackey's shuffle. Minutes later, Mackey collected him and they trudged back to his office through the narrow hallway. Craig flopped down in the chair across from Mackey and stared at the floor.
"Do you know why you're here Craig?"
"Mhm."
"You know you can't just flip people off."
"Mhm."
"This has been a problem for you for years Craig."
"Mhm."
"You know you can talk to me, right Craig?"
"Mhm."
"Mkay..."
Mackey was quiet for a few minutes before he said, "Have you thought of joining any school clubs? It is your senior year afterall."
"No."
"I think there's one you would enjoy."
Mackey ruffled through papers on his desk before pulling out a yellow sheet and sliding it over to Craig.
Disinterestedly, Craig picked it up and read it.
It was for the Anti-Bullying group, they, well Craig wasn't sure exactly what they did. But he was pretty sure it didn't help anyone or anything.
"They have different sub-groups within their group, mkay," Mackey said, looking at Craig, concern etched into his face.
"O-kay...," Craig replied, setting the flyer back on the desk.
"Take it with you, mkay," Mackey urged as he wrote Craig a slip back to his fourth class.
Craig sighed, but did as Mackey suggested, accepting the slip to class and trudging out of the office and to his next class. It was a computer class so he set the slip on the teacher's desk and went to his usual computer. He logged in as the teacher continued to drone on about the day's assignment, one he had finished the day before. He had turned it in, but not all his classmates used their class time effectively. Annoying asshats. Ike was in this class, as were Token and Clyde. Clyde fucked around on his computer a lot, but Token and Ike did their work like he did. It sucked they couldn't all IM during class, the software was disabled on the school computers. Ike was damn good with computers, but he hadn't quite figured out how to rig it so they could. Rumor was, he and someone else were working on a software to install on the computers that would enable IM and some other cool features.
He slipped down in his seat, looking up at the ceiling.
The bell finally sounded and he shouldered his bag, heading across the main lobby and down the science hall, to his physics class. Lunch would be in the middle of class then they would come back for the rest of the class.
He sat in his usual spot, not where he really liked to sit, but this teacher did the last name thing backwards, so he was in the front, at least there was an empty seat to his left. The lesson was interesting, and he was mildly disappointed when the bell sounded for lunch. He went to sit in the gym though, pulling out his pre-calc work. He looked it over some more, waiting on Ike. He tried in vain to recreate his earlier work, unsure of which was wrong, his current work or the previous. Thankfully, Ike showed up and reexplained everything, he had been completely wrong. Joy. He rested his head against the cold stone of the wall, looking up at the bright lights.
"You good man?"
"Mm."
"Fair," he replied before busying himself with his own homework.
Eventually, Craig looked back down and did some more of his homework, his hair hanging in his eyes as always. He sat crosslegged, his bag beside him as he and Ike worked on their homework.
"Shit Broflovski, I didn't realize you were a fag too," some guy said, standing a few feet away.
Craig felt his face redden and he prepared to flip them off but Ike intervened saying, "I didn't realize helping a friend with homework and doing my own homework made me a homosexual."
"That's not what I meant," he sounded angry, his footsteps approached them, his shadow large and imposing, blocking the light Craig had been using.
"You're implying I'm gay because I choose to hang out with another male and help him academically," Ike was the picture of calm, his tone was even, he wasn't even standing, just looking up at the guy, distaste etched on his features.
Craig's face burned as he tried to make himself smaller than he already was, quickly shoving his homework into his bag, desperate to leave the gym but a crowd had gathered and Ike was between him and the door.
"Looks like your boyfriend there wants to go somewhere else," the guy was smirking, Craig could hear it in his tone, he felt hot, he could feel his temper flaring, the urge to flip him off was strong, but he refrained for the moment.
"Craig is a boy and my friend, but we are not dating," Ike replied, still calm but the annoyance was starting to creep into his voice.
Ike hated when people made fun of anyone for being any sort of different, he had endured his share of bullying for being Canadian and for being younger than most of his peers.
Craig dared a look at Ike but Ike's eyes were focused on the would-be bully.
'Shitshitshitshit,' Craig thought, 'Where the hell are the administrators when we need them?'
He wasn't one to run from a fight, but not at school or on school grounds. He could get suspended. Even if he wasn't the one who threw the first punch or made the incendiary remark or gesture. The school didn't care about those things.
"Ike," his voice came out soft, but Ike's eyes still met his.
Ike packed his things and stood, as did Craig.
Ike glared at the guy a few seconds longer before nudging people out of his and Craig's way to the door.
"That's what I thought you faggots!" the guy yelled after them.
Despite himself, Craig flipped him off as they walked away.
He heard more yelling as the guy was caught within other students, unable to reach Craig.
He sighed, why did he always do that?
They sat on the steps as the bell was about to ring for them to go back to class.
"I'm sorry," Ike muttered.
"You don't need to be," Craig replied with a shrug.
"But you flipped him off, he might come after you," Ike replied, looking at Craig in concern, gods he hated when people looked like that at him.
"It'll be fine," Craig shrugged again, the bell sounding.
Ike stood but still had that same look on his face.
Craig shuffled to his class, eager to finish the day.
The rest of the day passed without him flipping off anyone else. He sat near the window like usual, Ike taking the seat beside him eventually. They didn't talk on the bus ride home, Craig was absorbed in his music, Hollywood Undead's Live Forever blaring. Craig, Ike, Kyle, Cartman, Kenny, and Stan all exited the bus together, even though Craig had a further walk that way. He liked walking some with Ike beside him, even if they rarely spoke on the walk. It was supposed to snow soon, the sky was cloudy. Craig tugged his chullo hat down by the strings, glancing towards the gray sky. It was about the same color as his eyes.
He nodded goodbye to Ike and continued walking, quickening his pace as the wind picked up. It sliced through his blue jacket since it wasn't zipped up. He hugged the jacket to himself by the pockets, head down as he walked, his hair blowing in and out of his eyes. He reached the steps to his house as the first flakes started falling. He dug in his pocket for the key, eventually finding it and unlocking the door. He stepped inside and went up to his room, taking his shoes and hat off once the door shut behind him. He sat on his bed and took out the few items of homework he still had to do. He sat on his bed as he finished them, listening to music still.
He didn't hear when someone knocked on the door, and was startled when he heard his father yelling his name.
'Fuck,' he thought, wondering how long his father had been yelling. Wouldn't be good if it was long. He set his homework aside, being almost done, and stuffed his iPod back into his pocket, popping out both earbuds as he walked down the stairs though.
His hair hung in his eyes as he stood in the doorway to the kitchen where his family sat.
"Clean out your ears boy," his dad grumbled, a half assed glare thrown in his direction as he walked in and took his usual seat across from his sister.
Dinner progressed as usual, the clink of silverware on plates, the usual mutters asking about each other's day.
When it became his turn he just muttered it was fine.
Craig's dad though, wouldn't let his son off that easy.
"I think you're lying to me boy," he said it casually, as he popped another bite of pork chop into his mouth.
"It was a normal day," he replied, not looking up from his plate.
"So for you, normal is being sent to see the counselor for flipping someone off, and then, not even an hour later, starting a fight in the gym."
"I didn't start a fight, I walked away," Craig said evenly, shoveling the tasteless food into his mouth, it was likely going to get ugly.
"You flipped him off," his father replied, the same tone as Craig.
"So I did."
"I heard what they were saying about you. Your little friend stuck up for you, but you..., you just sat there and took it. Makes me wonder, Craig, if there isn't something to what that kid said about you," Craig's dad continued, his eyes felt like they were boring holes into Craig's head.
Craig continued to eat, not looking up, having nothing to say in his defense, because why lie? His dad would figure it out eventually, one way or another.
His dad snorted and stood abruptly, disappearing from the kitchen. Craig lifted his head, looking at his mom and sister, but neither would meet his eyes. His breath came faster, what was his dad planning?
He didn't have long to wait because the larger man came back, carrying a case of some sort.
"Sit over here," he instructed Craig, pulling the chair he had been sitting in closer to the counter where an outlet was.
Craig stared at him in confusion.
"Come on!" he barked, plugging up the hair clippers and fitting a guard on to them.
Craig swallowed hard, he knew he couldn't run, but he couldn't get up either.
When Craig still hadn't moved, Mr. Tucker walked over to Craig and drug him by the arm over to the still warm chair he had been occupying only moments ago. He forced Craig to sit and then held his head so he faced forward. Frozen, Craig could do nothing as he heard the clippers buzz. He felt them on the back of his head first, and then he felt cold.
He did nothing as his father gave him a military style buzz cut, his hair completely out of his eyes now.
His mother and sister had vacated the kitchen shortly after the buzzing had started. As Mr. Tucker cleaned the buzzers he barked at Craig, "Go clean yourself up."
Numbly, Craig did as he was told. Moving stiffly and occasionally shedding hairs as he went to his room for clean clothes. He chose a pair of black pyjamas and a fresh pair of boxers. He went into the bathroom across the hall from his room and set his clothes down. He didn't look in the mirror as he undressed and then stepped into the shower. He started the water off hot as it would go. It hurt, but it was better than nothing. He washed thoroughly, the water cold by the time he stepped out and wrapped a towel around his small frame. He dried off and put his boxers and pants on, finally looking in the mirror at himself. He couldn't believe what he saw.
Sinewy, and short as hell. Confused, gray eyes. Short, black hair, slicked down but it didn't matter, it didn't rest on his forehead anymore. It didn't reach his eyes. His face..., was exposed. He looked away from his reflection, gathering his dirty clothes and going back to his room. He put the dirty clothes in his hamper and sat back down to finish his homework. He couldn't focus though. He turned his iPod up louder and laid in his bed, gazing at the ceiling. 'Well of Lies' by Flyleaf played as he laid there. In disbelief.
He knew his dad was homophobic..., he had known he would have to tell him he was gay eventually. But..., what the hell did his hair have to do with anything? And suddenly, he was angry, his fists clenched at his sides.
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
He would be fine. He exhaled slowly, 'Where'd you go' by Fort Minor playing now.
His hair would grow back, he would be eighteen at the end of the school year. He could go to college, somewhere away from here.
'Yeah,' he took another deep breath, exhaling slowly. He relaxed but didn't sleep, staring up at the ceiling for hours, lost in his thoughts of a better future.
