The rooms' center was clear, all of the desks pushed up to the wall except for a half circle of chairs pointing towards a larger chair, presumably for the counselor. Craig was able to scan the group and move at the same time whereas Tweek was virtually frozen with his hands pulling at his shirt until Mr. Mackey cleared his throat and gestured for him to sit in any of these fine, single chairs. With stiff legs and slumped shoulders he took long strides to the closest vacant seat, stuck between a few of the goth kids. His jumpy antics had returned full on, hands covering his mouth and staring at his lap: trying to remember his happy place. It took so little for him to feel like this.
"Mmmkay, our last members have arrived. I will first introduce myself. I am Mr. Mackey and I will be in charge of group counseling for this year. Here in group therapy you'll work in pairs pre-designed based on your social and mental short comings in order to work towards a better you." He paused to loosen his tie, clearing his throat and crossing his legs at the ankle. "But first we'll go in order and you all can introduce yourselves." He pointed to Henrietta who was sitting on the end to start. What followed next was the most miserable onslaught of speech to fall on any ears. She started off with her name but when asked about her problems it went straight in to an autobiographical novel she seemed to have memorized on cue. As if she was just waiting for the opportunity.
"…And that was when my father divorced my crazy hack of a mom and left me here in South Park while he runs around in California with sun bleached 20 year old bimbos." She let out a puff of air from her lips, as if smoking an imaginary cigarette to calm down, brushing back her long black bangs.
"Well that was very interesting, Henrietta, how about for times' sake we just uh, get in the pairs I assigned to you and instead talk to them. Once you get in pairs, discuss why you're here. Then you should all choose an after school activity like a sport or club to join to help you both work out your problems together." He stood and passed around some pamphlets that included talking topics and a list of activities to do. "Alright, Henrietta you'll be with Georgie, Ethan will be with David, and Tweek will be with Craig." He sat back with his clipboard to jot down notes on how the meeting was going so far.
The air squeezed out of Tweek, hastily twirling his fingers in his hair and pulling the locks unhappily. Neither Craig nor Tweek moved, instead just sitting there until it looked like Mr. Mackey was about to come up and talk to Craig, in which Craig immediately switched seats closer to Tweek. Tweek was rambling something softly under his breath, Craig going unnoticed.
Craig coughed, "Alright, soooo, uh, this group thing…." He started, skimming the front of the booklet and flipping it open to the first page to avoid unnecessary eye contact.
"I guess we should look in to activities or something, right?" Craig asked, Tweek sucking in a deep breath and nodding. He shakily removed his hands from his head, fingers fumbling with the crisp glossy paper; unable to open it and giving in. Craig watched in a dulled sense of pity, one where he sort of felt bad but not really since he also did not care. At all. So instead he decided to look back at the list. Picking the first one his eyes went to.
"How about wrestling?" Tweek grunted in response and nodded all too fast. With that, Craig slipped the papers away. That was easy, already they had their activity. Rather than sit in silence, he went up to Mr. Mackey, "Tweek and I are doing wrestling. Can I go now?" The counselor looked up from his current cross word puzzle.
"Mmm, have you both shared why you were here and made goals? I haven't heard your partner say anything to you since you went over."
"He did, he's just very quiet." A quick lie that came all too easy, harmless. Mr. Mackey was about to bring up that this was a highly unlikely situation when another voice entered the conversation.
"Nngh, it's true Mr. Mackey, we finished so could we- please- go back to class now." Tweek fidgeted under his stare.
"Well I suppose so. I'll sign you and Mr. Tucker up for wrestling and have the coach make sure you're actually there. Practice has already been going on for a month but I'm sure that the coach won't mind a couple of late wrestlers popping in tomorrow. You're both dismissed to your classes."
Tweek released a sigh of relief; something Craig didn't think was possible. Tweek getting handed a single pass, which made sense, to go back to woodshop. What didn't make sense was that Craig was on there too. Guess they shared classes and he didn't even notice. He made a noise similar to the soft whine of a puppy; he just wanted to get away from him. Not walk him to class! They left on a journey to class, standing on opposite sides of the hall.
"Do you think we could stop by the E-hallway exit? I really need a smoke, and if you go in before me it'll look suspicious." Craig was already getting out his pack, reaching in his pocket for a lighter.
"Uhn, okay," And so they took a detour to the south side of the building and sat outside the back door, Tweek pressed firmly against the building and Craig taking long drags, holding his breath once the smoke was in his mouth before exhaling slowly.
"Forgot to ask, do you want one? You don't look like you smoke, but…"
"No, dude, smoking's gross." Tweek shrunk back against the wall, making a face. "If I wanted to die young I would have just- hn- taken all of my medication at once already." Craig waved his hand as to shoo off the comment.
"It might actually help calm your nerves." He said, flicking off the ashes, "If I wanted to die I would be doing more than just smoking cigarettes. There are worse things."
"That doesn't change the fact that it smells disgusting." Tweek was surprised he could even speak this much to someone he hadn't spoken to in years, especially having gone so long without a conversation from an outside source- not his parents or from the customers at his job. It was almost sort of comfortable, but scary at the same time.
Craig sucked in some smoke, tipping the cigarette away and leaning over. He blew a jet stream of smoke at his companion, letting out loose laughter that shifted in to a spell of heavy coughing. Tweek snorted and shoved his shoulder roughly, coughing and cupping his nose and mouth with his hands.
"You're such an asshole." Something about it was funny, though, and he too started to laugh weakly, grinning behind the safety of his hands. Craig regained control of his hacking, spitting out a pent up loogie and lips barely quirking to a smile. He finished his cig and stomped on the stub to make sure it was out, holding the door open for him.
"After you."