"…two minutes…"
What?
"I said you've been staring at me for the past two minutes."
I must have said that "What" out loud. I couldn't believe it. Craig Tucker was actually standing in front of me. There he was. My projected image of him was off. Although he was wearing one of those cook aprons, I could still tell he has not gained any weight. Well, any unhealthy weight. It's natural for some one to gain weight in such a transitional stage in their life. Although many studies show that the so called "freshman 15" is true, it's not accurate. Some claimed 9, others claimed 5, but judging from my own studies, the average weight gain is 12. Closer to 15 than other studies, but I think environmental factors played into this. Most of their studies were probably based in some coastal state, where they have better things to do than just sit around and watch snow.
Craig looks to have gained a measly 5 pounds, if that.
And let's not get into my weight gain, alright?
"Broflosky, you check out or something."
He definitely did not gain any weight that wasn't put to good use. That's a double negative, meaning he looks good.
"How much weight have you gained since high school?"
You've got to be fucking kidding me.
The first thing I've said to this guy in 5 years is a question about his weight. I should have prepared flashcards with helpful conversation starters.
"I'd say like 6 pounds."
Craig's facial expression hasn't changed since 4th grade, but there was a certain twinkle of amusement in his eyes.
Health physicians say that it's healthy that a person undergoes some personality changes, especially during their teenage years and into their young adult life, but not Craig Tucker. He's had himself figured out since 4th grade. I wonder if that is some sort of warning sign of a cannibal murderer or something.
"I would've guessed 5."
Smooth, Kyle.
I smiled and he looked at me with all serious that is Craig Tucker. I was secretly hoping maybe Craig had changed. I was hoping for a kinder, gentler Tucker. When we message he seems so interested in things we talk about, its hard for me to imagine this brick is the one playing me back, let alone winning every game we play.
Maybe I was wrong. Maybe Craig isn't the guys that's been messaging and playing the game with me.
"That one pound went to my brain, its hidden."
I couldn't believe he didn't deck me, or question such a stupid question. But then I realized his questions aren't really questions at all, so either way, I shouldn't have expected a question from him anyways.
What?
I watched as Craig fiddled with the bow on his apron. I could tell he was thinking about something. He was blinking his eyes in a rhythmic pattern, which can be considered a tick of some sort. When one is so deep in their head, its hard to control the surface of one, surface being your body. I had no idea what was running through Craig's head. Usually when I don't know the answer to something I don't stop until I find out so…
"What are you thinking?"
I almost completely forgot that we were sitting in a restaurant. Well, I was sitting; Craig was standing, still holding my plate of food.
Which was probably cold by now anyways.
I watched as Craig looked around the diner. His hair was shaggy, but not long enough for gravity to weight it down. It did look like he had grown, but I can't remember what height he was in high school. I wanna say 6, but since I'm sitting I'll give him the angles advantage and settle with 5'11.
Craig scooted my water down with the plate and set it in front of me.
"I was originally thinking what kind of lame would come to this diner and order a plain hamburger with plain fries and ask for a plain bottle of water." Craig's lips were a perfect size. They were thin, but a nice shade. Just enough for someone to notice the small upturn on the left side of his mouth. Some observant like me, I guess.
"But then when I found out who it was I wasn't surprised at all. I thought to myself, 'wow, big surprise'."
"Really?"
"I know it's been a few years, Broflosky, but you didn't think I could forget such a 'gem' like you, did you. I mean who could forget the guy who ended up being the only senior to get accepted into his top three picks of college, along with having a scholarship ridden boyfriend."
I should have anticipated such negativity directed towards me. He was never a fan of Stan, not sure what he thought of Kenny, but he hated Cartman.
At least we have that in common.
Call it loyalty to Stan, or call it straight attitude, but I did not like the tone of his voice. He was getting that, 'Now we both know I'm smarter than you, so just let me talk and be happy you get to listen.'
I get that from Ike a lot.
I decided I could knock him down a few levels.
"Number one, Stan was not, and is not my boyfriend." Why did I add that 'is not'?
Insert Craig's blank stare here.
"Number two, if you want to be technical, I got accepted into my top 5."
Leave Craig's blank stare here.
"and number three, there is nothing wrong with eating plain food!"
Insert my huff and puff face here. I should have thought out my numbers a little better. I would have probably put number one last, Stan always seems to be a kicker for Craig.
Oh, and you can still leave Craig's blank stare.
"There's something wrong with being a picky eater."
"No there isn't."
I feel like I'm in fourth grade again.
"Yea, there is. Being a picky eater, an adult picky eater, is bad. They are now diagnosing adults that are extreme picky eaters as having eating disorders. Think about it, if you don't eat a variety of food, how are you supposed to get a variety of nutrients? Don't say vitamins, you know as well as I do eating food rather than taking a pill packed with chemicals is ten times better for you."
I was speechless. Craig picked up my top bun to my burger and gave it a wif. Although his facial expression didn't necessarily read disgust, I knew it was something of the sort. Then I watched him pull out a piece of paper and a pen from his apron pocket.
"If you want to cure this eating disorder of yours come to our apartment tomorrow night, I'm cooking."
I took a quick glance at the paper and looked up to find nothing but my plain plate in front of me.
As I drove home that night I came up with two things:
I might have an eating disorder,
I might have a dinner date with Craig Tucker.
Eh~ I've been trying to think of a good first dialogue, but I wasn't sure how I wanted it to turn out.
This is what popped out.
But thanks again guys for the reviews! Sorry to leave at such a cliffhanger last time, but as you can see I had some difficulty heh. I'm still trying to think out the living situations for Craig in my head, so any suggestions are appreciated!
