"You don't have to stay," I whisper. I didn't mean to whisper but I guess I don't have the energy to talk in my usual obnoxious high pitched voice. I think Craig's ears would be thankful. I continue to stare at my hands. They keep fidgeting. I scrap under my nails, pick at the skin, fold them together, and unfold them. I can't help it but the jerky movements feel detached from my mind which feels so dead.

"You don't want me to?"

Have you ever stared at something so long you start to feel like you've lost your vision? I blink away stars and shapes but am very cautious not to look in Craig's direction. I didn't mean to offend him but I know he's offended or maybe he's annoyed. "It's late… It's really late. This is inconvenient. I-"

"Tweek," Craig cuts me off with a deep stern voice. It shocked me so much I accidently looked at him and now I can't look away. "This isn't your fault," Craig tells me shaking his head. "And I want to be here for you. I-" Craig sighs and shrugs. "I don't know. I'm not good at these things, sorry but sometimes these things just happen- and they suck but you need people around you to… get through it… I- Does that help?" He groans, "I suck." Craig rests the heel of his hand against his forehead, frustrated.

"Uh," he moves the appendage from his face. "I'm not gonna leave you in a hospital at one in the morning waiting to hear if your parents are okay, alright?- Unless you really want me to," Craig tells me. He pauses, turning towards me, "Do you?"

I shake my head, returning my gaze to the working fingers in my lap. I try so hard but a single tear falls and is absorbed into the fabric of my jeans. And then another. And another. And then a sniff. Craig grabs my shoulder and turns my body into his. I rest my forehead on his shoulder. "I'm so scared," I mumble into his shirt.

"I know." Craig strokes my hair. I wonder if the people walking by us are staring. They're probably busy with their own problems right? Since they're at a hospital. I can't believe I'm crying again. Craig probably thinks I'm like a child. Weak and timid and panicked. I couldn't take care of myself so it's good that he's here. I suppose if he weren't and I were in a place where I wasn't taking care of myself, Kenny would.

I hadn't even thought about Kenny. Which is kind of harsh of me. What? Now that I have Craig, Kenny is like dirt? Kenny's been very helpful when I've had my moments, hasn't he? If Craig weren't here- If Craig had never been here then Kenny would be here. I would have called Kenny freaking out and he'd tell me to make some tea and calm down, then he'd find a way to my house through the raging blizzard, and comfort me in that way only Kenny can because Kenny has that nurturing trait where he doesn't even have to say anything, just his presence makes you feel okay.

I should call him. He'd be hurt if I didn't.

"Are you… okay?"

Whereas, Craig, seems confused by the whole comforting procedure. I do believe Craig would call it a procedure. I be he'll go home and google a how to.

Am I comparing Craig and Kenny? Am I doing so while my parents are laying in a hospital and I don't even know how they're doing?! Oh, God, I'm gonna be sick.

"I gotta-" I push Craig back and jump from my seat, running to the bathroom.

I glance into my empty cup before tossing it in a trash can we pass by. "Right this way," the doctor tells Craig and me. Actually, I don't know if this guy is the doctor or a nurse or some intern. We walk through hallways, some long, some wide, but everywhere reeking of that nauseating hospital smell. Medicine, sick people dying, depression, grief, millions of dollars and med school.

Shortly after I threw up all over the bathroom, (someone had to come clean it up(the thought horrified me so immensely that I almost fought the custodian for their supplies to clean it myself (which I did))) a lady called my name, told me to follow a man, Craig and I got our thing together, and here we are.

The man stops outside a door. "Your father woke up a hour ago or so," he tells me. "We did some basic tests and he's significantly okay."

"Significantly?"

"Minor fracture in his arm from the crash," he tells us. "Since he's older, it will take a little more to heal but other than that he's fine."

"Where's my mom?"

The man flips through papers on a clipboard and then shakes his head. "I'd have to ask the desk."

"Then ask," Craig speaks for the first time.

The man and I stare at him for a beat before the man nods and heads off. He stops halfway down the hallway and calls, "Your father might still be feeling the laughing gas," and then continues.

Craig turns to me, "Are you okay?"

I nod, "I'm okay… but, I should have a trashcan near me… just in case."

Craig nods, rubbing my arm, "Hey, your dad's fine."

"Yeah, but what about my mom?"

"She's getting there too… They crashed in a bunch of snow- it- it can't be that bad…"

I can tell Craig is conflicted. He doesn't want to lie to me in case it is worse than we thought and I completely respect him for that. I grab the doorknob and slowly push open the door.

When Craig and I walk in my dad's head swivels towards us. He has this look that you can just tell he's drugged up. He grins widely and says, "My offspring! I remember when you were conceived. Your mother was so beautiful back then. We were the classic football player- cheerleader story. Of course there was that one guy who tried to steal her from me," my father chuckles. "Those were the days. Why, I remember once in middle school- I hadn't hit my growth spur like all the other boys and this one Johnny Davison tried to take my lunch money. I knew I had a choice right then that would affect the rest of my life. Offense or defense as my coach would explain it later."

My dad nods and then stares at the TV. Craig's brows furrow together and I just pull up a chair. "What did you do?" Craig asks.

My dad stares at him, curiously, "The Tucker's boy?" He looks to me. "The Tucker's boy?"

"Yeah, dad, we- we did a project together."

"My name is Craig," Craig says.

"Are you two…"

"Dad!"

"What? I wanna know what's going on in your life."

"Oh, God…"

"Tweek and I are dating."

"What?" My head snaps towards the niorette behind me. Craig just shakes his head with a shrug like, 'sorry'.

"Well then, it is very nice to meet you, son."

"Dad, what happen?"

My dad looks at me and stops smiling, "Son, it was a tragedy! Your mother heard about the storm so we decided to head home from the café. We had to leave immediately if we wanted to beat the storm but I could not for the life of me find my watch. I don't even know why I had taken it off! After twenty or so minutes we find the watch in the car!" My father laughs. "Our faces- priceless," he nods.

I sigh, "Dad, finish the story, man!"

"Oh, well, we headed out but it was much darker than before. The windshield was frozen over and the wipers only made it worse. It was dark so we couldn't see much. We didn't see the ice, swerved, crashed into a mountain or something. We couldn't get the doors open and it got cold and your mother was in pain."

"Where was her phone?"

"It had died and she didn't charge it last night. She was gonna do it at the store but forgot her charger."

I scoff, "This is why you should have a phone. You could have called somebody, dad."

"Son, you know how I feel about those things."

"You'll use payphones though- and house phones-"

"It's different," my dad tells me .

"Just a flip phone, dad. Anything," I throw my hands up, exasperated. "You guys could've froze to death!"

"Son, you're being dramatic…" he accuses. "You're mother and I were fine. As my mother used to say, 'The world has got it's ways'. She was such a wise woman."

I grab my hair, frustrated, "Gah, dad, you're high. I can't talk to you when you're like this."

"Son," my dad says, "Keep it cool."

"C'mon, Craig, let's go get something to eat before we check on my mom," I push to my feet. "Go to sleep, dad. We'll pick you up later."

"The Tucker's boy, son?" my dad laughs. "I just can't get over it. Does Thomas know? There's no way."

"Bye, dad, sleep well." I grab Craig and drag him out of the room. "Where do you wanna eat? I can't eat here so don't ask me to. Just pick somewhere that has salad…"

"Wait, are you okay now? Or is this another break down?"

I stop and glare at Craig. "I did not 'break down' and I'm just hungry. Let's go get something to eat before they tell me my mom is either fine or never gonna walk again because of something so stupid because my parents are helpless and lost all the fucking time!"

"Oh," Craig nods. "You're mad at them for being irresponsible."

"God, they can be so immature. Like, this is something teenagers would do!" I ruffle my hair.

"C'mon, now, you're parents aren't that bad…" Craig muses.

"Yeah, no, they're great," I say. "They leave me randomly for short to long periods for stupid shit, act high all the time, and act like children. You know what's worse? They own their own business… and it's doing good! So- so they can just leave and shit and not worry about being fired. They have no cares, it's like they forget they have a son and that it's me!"

"Really?" Craig asks.

"Yes! God, yes, ask Kenny, dude."

Craig grimace, "Fuck him"

"They're just constantly zoned out, forgetting, unrealistic, or confused… They put themselves in real danger, Craig."

"Yeah, I get it. What are you gonna do?" he asks.

"What can I do? That's just how they are. Like, how I'm paranoid. They can't help it."

"That fucking sucks."

"No shit," I roll my eyes. "So, where do you wanna eat?"

"There's a drive-through a mile up the road. I think it's twenty-four hour. Let's go check it out."

"Okay," I agree. "When we come back, they'll hopefully know about my mom…"

-u-u-u-

How goes it? Happy belated holidays and whatever. You guys are so fricken nice. Thanks for all the support with this story. Really motivated me to keep going. Hope you enjoyed this chapter