A/N: I'm back! This chapter was getting incredibly long, so it's coming to you in two parts. Enjoy!
"Clyde, calm down."
"How am I supposed to calm down? He's going to kill me!"
"He's not going to kill you."
"But –"
"Clyde, just shut the hell up, okay, I need to think."
Craig wakes up to the sounds of hushed whispers beside him that his groggy brain eventually places as Clyde and Token, having some kind of argument. He shifts in place, the bed beneath him feeling uncomfortably unfamiliar, and brings both hands up to rub the sleep out of his eyes. Where the fuck is he?
"Oh no, he's awake!"
"Jesus Christ, let go of my arm, when's the last time you cut your nails?"
Craig opens his eyes a crack, squinting against the fluorescent lights, somehow both painfully bright and not bright enough at the same time. He reaches up to scratch the top of his head, and discovers that he's not wearing his hat. Where's his hat?
"Token! You have to hide me!"
"Right, because that's going to work. You're half a foot taller than me, but go ahead and stand behind me. Craig will never notice you there."
Craig's memory is still fuzzy, and he opens his mouth to ask what the fuck is going on, but he yawns instead, so widely his ears pop. When he swallows he can taste a horrible, disgusting bitterness, and then everything comes rushing back into his mind like a waterfall. He's lying on the cheap foldout cot in the nurse's office. He's in the nurse's office because in a sleep-deprived haze, he'd thrown up half of his insides outside this morning, just after Kenny had dropped the news that he'd spent the night on Tweek's couch.
Remembering that bit of information brings back the same feelings of queasiness, but this time Craig is able to push those feelings away and not throw up again. Not that he has anything left in his stomach to throw up; judging by earlier, his body had already rejected the entirety of everything he'd ingested in the last three days. Knowing his luck, though, if he were to puke again he'd probably be the first person in the world to successfully turn himself completely inside out.
He groans, holding a hand to his head, and scoots up a little bit on the cot. "Fuck," he mutters, his voice hoarse, scraping against his throat and making him wince. Okay, water. Water sounds good. Water might chase away the taste of vomit that's lingering on his tongue and almost making him gag every two seconds.
"Um, hey, Craig!" Clyde's voice is shaking, his tone that same kind of fake-casual that he uses whenever a Raisins girl gets a little too serious with her threats. Craig lifts his head up to look at him and sees his best friend of the last thirteen years peeking at him from behind Token, looking – for some reason – absolutely terrified.
"How are you feeling?" Token's arms are crossed, and he almost looks bored, but he's tapping his foot repeatedly on the floor. "It's halfway through lunch, you slept the whole morning."
Craig, it's been proven, is not the most observant person in the world, but he's known both Clyde and Token for what feels like forever at this point in his life; and the fact is, you just don't know someone for that long without being able to pick up on some things. Clyde being nervous and terrified could mean a lot of things: he saw a weird-looking bug that he insisted was "looking at him funny"; he pissed off the Raisins girls; he got himself into trouble with Cartman; he broke Craig's bedroom window with a lawnmower when they were twelve and tried to fix it with duct tape, but ended up almost slicing off his thumb; whatever. Clyde's dramatics weren't anything out of the ordinary.
Token, though. He wasn't as irritatingly indifferent as Craig, but he didn't usually let his emotions out as uncontrollably as Clyde did. He was far more calm and rational, which came in handy whenever he needed to act as mediator between the two extremes, Clyde and Craig. Craig's eyes are drawn to Token's tapping foot and he frowns, because this is exactly the type of thing that Token doesn't usually do.
Something must have happened. And Craig's pretty sure he knows what it is. Tweek's face from this morning flashes in his mind, the wind sending his hair flying, his cheeks bright red. Kenny had spent the night at Tweek's house last night. Kenny had a reputation. And Tweek was blushing.
Craig Tucker doesn't know shit about most things, but he can do basic math.
"The fuck is going on?" Craig mumbles, ignoring Token's question because, seriously, all he has to do is look at Craig to see how he's feeling. He doesn't really want to know what's going on, he doesn't want to hear anything said out loud, but at the same time he needs to know what kind of heartbreak he's going to have to live with from now on.
Clyde and Token share a look, and Craig doesn't like what he sees in it. Token sighs.
"Okay," he says. Clyde looks like he's about to cry. "Before I tell you, you have to promise that you're not going to freak out or puke again."
Craig clenches his fists, bracing himself for the news that Kenny and Tweek are officially dating, that Clyde and Token had been wrong, and that Craig is going to be spending the rest of his life miserable and alone. Tears spring up at the corners of his eyes and he blinks them away, suddenly feeling a whole fucking lot like ripping Kenny's leg off – no, actually, ripping Kenny completely in half, because how the fuck dare he? He and his friends have always made it their mission to fuck up Craig's life, but this goes so much farther beyond anything else those assholes have ever done to him. This tops fuckin' Peru.
Taking Tweek away from him is the one thing Craig has known for years that he would never be able to handle.
"What." He doesn't mean for the word to come out as a growl. Even to his own ears he sounds like a fucking wild animal. His emotions are spiraling out of control and he can feel his sanity spiraling with them. Closing his eyes, he pulls his legs up to his chest and wraps his arms around them, feeling his entire body shake.
"Jesus Christ." The cot shifts a little bit and Craig feels Token sit down near his feet. "All right, breathe. It's not as bad as you think it is."
"It's pretty bad, though."
"Would you shut up?" Token sounds exasperated, and Craig opens one eye to see him glaring at Clyde. "It's only a big deal because you guys keep making a big deal out of it."
"It is a big deal!" Clyde insists, holding his arms out dramatically, as if to illustrate exactly how big of a deal it is.
Token rolls his eyes. "It's really not. Or it shouldn't be, but Cartman's an idiot. I really wish you wouldn't get so caught up in all that shit, dude." He turns back to Craig, apparently deciding that it's better to just rip off the bandaid. "Okay, listen. I don't know how it happened, but Cartman got his hands on the list."
It's like Token has just dumped a bucket of Canadian ice water over him. Craig actually physically shivers at his words, a chill like no other he's ever felt shooting up his spine. He can't even feel one second of relief at the fact that Token isn't telling him that Kenny and Tweek are a thing now, because this is somehow so much worse. He looks at Clyde, fighting to keep his voice under control and failing miserably. "You fuckin' idiot!"
"I know!" Clyde flaps his arms and spins in an anxious circle. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean for this to happen, Craig, you have to believe me!"
"Why did you have to fuckin' bring it?" Craig can hear himself shouting, but it doesn't really register in his brain that he is the one making those very not Craig-like shrill sounds. He jumps up off of the cot and takes a few steps towards Clyde, who pales and backs up.
"Okay, stop." Token stands up and moves in between the two of them, his arms held out on either side. "Clyde, this isn't your fault. Craig, you can't kill him, we're on school property."
"It is his fault," Craig says, his voice a growl. "He started all this shit. He's the one that brought the fuckin' thing to the fuckin' restaurant. He's the one who made me give Tweek my fuckin' hoodie." He feels his face heat up as he thinks about how Tweek looked standing outside Raisins with his hoodie on. Something about the idea of Tweek wearing Craig's clothes just does something to him and he awkwardly glances down at himself for a second, shifting one leg in front of the other.
"I really thought it would help!" Clyde starts sobbing, tears streaming down his face. "I'm sorry, Craig, I never thought Tweek would show anybody!"
"He didn't." Token grabs a box of tissues off the counter and tosses it to Clyde, who pulls four sheets out and blows his nose loudly. "At least, I'm ninety-nine percent sure he didn't."
"How the hell do you know?" Even as he asks the question, Craig knows that Token's right. There's no way Tweek would have given the list to Cartman. That wouldn't make any sense. Something else had to have happened, someone else must have–
Kenny. Fucking Kenny fucking McCormick.
"Because–" Token is in the middle of saying, but Craig talks over him.
"Kenny." He unconsciously takes another step towards Clyde, who crouches down like making himself smaller will also make him invisible, but Craig isn't even thinking about him anymore. He's seeing red – or, more accurately, orange – as he grinds his teeth together and practically spits out the words, "Fuckin' asshole."
"Kenny?" Token says doubtfully, making a face. "I don't think that seems very likely. He doesn't like Cartman any more than anyone else does."
"Yeah," Clyde says from the floor, hesitantly, clearly afraid that coming down on the side of Kenny McCormick is going to get him punched in the face. "Kenny's a really nice guy, I don't think he would do this."
"I don't know that I'd go so far as to call him 'really nice'." Token does air quotes with his fingers. "But I just can't see Kenny willingly causing this much drama that he's not the center of."
"Are you fuckin' kidding me?" Craig rakes a hand through his hair and turns around, scanning the small room for his hat, but it's nowhere in sight. He frowns, trying to think back to this morning. He'd been wearing it when they got to the school, so he must have been wearing it when Token and fucking Kenny had practically dragged him here after he'd gotten sick. And last he'd checked, there were no hat-stealing demons lurking in the walls of the school - anymore.
Maybe the gnomes took it.
A small smile tugs at the edges of Craig's lips as the thought crosses his mind. More specifically, at what image the thought brings with it: a ten-year old Tweek, staring at him with wide eyes half-hidden behind a mug of coffee as big as his face, gesturing wildly as he explained the mysterious Underpants Gnomes. He had been just as unbelievably fucking cute even back then, when Craig didn't quite know exactly what it was about this crazy-haired twitchy blonde kid that made him want to hang around him all the time.
The Fight had probably had something to do with it. Craig had always been drawn to the tougher, feistier people who could hold their own, which is why he and Token got along so well; neither of them was one for taking anybody's shit. Clyde was the exception, because, as Craig had written down in one of his secret notebooks years earlier, he was the first person to ever be nice to him. The kid had risked everything to replace Craig's fallen Goldfish in preschool, for Christ's sake, and he hadn't even really known him.
Tweek had been in the same class as Craig since first grade, and of course he'd noticed him, because how do you not notice the shaking, twitchy, nervous kid? But he'd never really noticed him until shop class, when those assholes had pitted them against each other for no reason.
He'd looked across the room and watched Stan and Kyle say something to Tweek that had made him turn and send a death glare Craig's way, and as far as death glares went, Craig had to admit that it had been a pretty good one; his stomach had even done a little somersault. He'd shot a trademark middle finger back at him in response, but he hadn't had the chance to do anything else before Clyde had frantically run over freaking out about some other kid and the belt sander.
The whole rest of the day, though, he hadn't been able to stop thinking about the angry, defiant look on Tweek's face; and when the last bell rang, Craig had just decided, fuck it, he wasn't going to fight this kid. He'd muttered something to Clyde about not wanting to be late for dinner, which Clyde had completely accepted despite it being three o'clock in the afternoon, and gone back to his house, flopped onto the couch, and turned on Red Racer. And that was supposed to be the end of it.
But then Cartman and goddamn Kenny McCormick had shown up at his house and told Craig that Tweek had been talking shit about Stripe. Craig still doesn't know why he'd actually believed him; he knows he should have known better than to trust anything that came out of Eric Cartman's mouth. Stripe was just such a sensitive topic – nobody messed with Craig's guinea pig.
He'd gone to that fight completely prepared to knock out some teeth, but as soon as he and Tweek were standing across from each other, surrounded by all the other kids, Craig had completely forgotten how to throw a punch. All he could do was stare blankly at Tweek as he stared right back at Craig, neither of them making any move towards the other.
"I've never been in a fight before." That had been such bullshit; Craig got in fights all the time, and how he'd gotten away with that lie he'll never know. It's not like he was constantly in the counselor's office just for his middle finger tendencies, after all. He'd never been afraid to solve a dispute with his fists, and if any one of those other kids had ever really paid any attention to him they would have been able to call him out. Clyde at the very least should have known better, since he'd actually been physically present when Craig had punched Pip in the face that one time; but he'd always been more oblivious than most, always getting caught up in the excitement of whatever was going on and forgetting even the most basic things.
There was something about Tweek, though, that made Craig not want to hurt him. Maybe it was the twitching and constant look of fear in his eyes; maybe it was how he was always alone at recess and lunch; maybe it was the way Craig's stomach felt whenever he caught sight of that immediately recognizable mess of blonde hair; who the hell knew for sure. The only thing he knew was that he didn't ever want to be the cause of any of that particular kid's pain.
Third time being the charm, they'd both stood there, freezing their asses off in the Colorado winter, both of them having chosen fighting styles that for some reason required very little clothing. One of those assholes had asked them if they were ready to go, and Craig isn't even sure he'd said yes; but then the fight had started, and he'd mumbled some stupid shit that Cartman had told him would make him sound threatening, all the while trying to think of a way to get them both out of this without losing face. He didn't want to fight Tweek, but it wasn't like he could come right out and say that.
Of course, when Tweek, wearing boxing gloves clearly too big for him that kept slipping off of his hands, had let out some kind of war cry and come flying at him, Craig had had no choice but to defend himself. He wasn't aiming to cause Tweek any real damage, but he also wasn't going to just stand there and take it like a bitch. He spent the entire time just doing his best to dodge the blows Tweek kept desperately trying to land, only striking when absolutely necessary, and feeling like shit whenever his fist connected with Tweek's face. There was a reason why later, in the hospital, Craig had been the one with an eye swollen all the way shut and far more injuries in general than Tweek had ended up with. He'd barely even fought back when Tweek had jumped across the space between their beds and attacked him again, spurred on by the stream of lies coming out of the mouths of the only four people Craig has ever truly wished fiery vengeance upon.
Tweek, it turned out, was a badass.
Clyde and Token had shown up to visit the day Craig and Tweek were discharged from the hospital. Clyde had immediately started gushing to Tweek about how awesome it was that someone had finally beaten Craig in a fight – because of course now he remembered all of Craig's previous altercations. Token was quieter about it, but even he was smiling and laughing and telling Tweek how great his technique had been. Craig hadn't said very much; every time he looked at Tweek in the other bed, his stomach did that thing again, flipping around like it had decided to take itself on a rollercoaster tour of the world without Craig's permission. Even now, all these years later, he doesn't like to talk about The Fight because all it does is bring up all those guilty feelings, even though he and Tweek are long past it.
Or they had been. All traces of a smile on Craig's face vanish along with the image of ten-year-old Tweek in his mind as he comes back to reality. "Who the fuck else would've done it, Token?"
"Okay, I get that you're upset–" Token starts, and Craig would be willing to bet anything that the next words out of his mouth are going to be, "But think logically…"
The thing that Token doesn't quite seem to get, though, is that Craig is thinking logically. Between last night and this morning, the only person he knows to have been in contact with Tweek without any of the rest of them around is Kenny. Logically, that made Kenny the only other person who would have been able to get his hands on the list. And he and Cartman, despite what Token had said about Kenny not liking him, have been friends for about as long as Craig has been friends with Clyde. There's no doubt in Craig's mind that Kenny would not have hesitated to share something like the list with his group of friends.
Maybe he hadn't done it to be a dick. Maybe he hadn't intended to blow up Craig's entire life. Craig doesn't believe that for one second, though, because as far as he's concerned, Kenny McCormick is nothing but a dick.
Craig gives up on finding his hat, determined to go find Kenny and kick his ass from here to fucking Hell and back. He heads toward the door of the nurse's office. "Fuck this, I'm going to go find that asshole."
Never mind the nervous butterflies swirling around in his stomach as he thinks about what might await him on the other side of that door. Never mind the way his heart rate increases as he thinks about what Tweek is going to think of him now. Never mind the fact that one of the first things he had noticed when he'd woken up in here was Tweek's conspicuous absence, where normally he would be right with Token and Clyde freaking the hell out – both at the list coming out and at Craig throwing up the entire contents of his stomach.
Because Tweek has always worried about him when he wasn't feeling well, Craig thinks with a pang as he reaches for the doorknob. He's lost count of the number of times Tweek had texted him after Craig had missed a day of school, telling him he'd left a bag of cold medication and a 'get well' cupcake on the Tuckers' front step. Not even Clyde and Token knew that he did that – unless Tweek had told them. Craig doesn't think that's very likely, though. If either of them knew about it, he's pretty sure they would have said something to him about it, especially now. But that's not the point.
The point is, Tweek not being here right now is a really bad sign for the current state of their friendship.
"Craig." Token sighs, obviously realizing that there's nothing he can say that will stop Craig from doing whatever it is he's going to do. He waves his arm resignedly at Clyde, motioning for him to get up. "All right, fine, let's go talk to Kenny."
Clyde and Token on his heels, Craig turns the doorknob, pushes the door open, and steps out into the hallway.
It's completely dead, and he lets out a loud sigh of relief, his heart pounding. He'd been half-expecting the entire school to be waiting outside the door. He shoots Token a questioning glance.
"They're probably all still in the cafeteria," Token says, looking down at his watch. "There's still a good twenty minutes of lunch left."
"And that's where the list is," Clyde says, nervously trying to keep himself mostly hidden behind Token again. "So they're probably all still looking."
"Fuckin' cafeteria it is then." Craig is doing his best to keep his own uneasiness out of his tone, and failing pretty spectacularly at it. His voice is shaking, and he knows Token and Clyde hear it because they give each other a look.
The three of them walk down the hallway in silence, and for Craig, every step closer to the cafeteria brings with it a new nervous symptom. Step. His heart is thundering in his ears. Step. His throat is suddenly painfully dry and he has to make a real conscious effort to swallow. Step. His limbs are weak, and every forward movement seems to take ten times the strength it normally would. Step. There goes his stomach again, bubbling and clenching and threatening to launch itself out into the world through Craig's mouth.
By the time they reach the cafeteria doors, Craig's palms are so sweaty that when he wipes them on his jeans the moisture sinks right through the denim fabric onto his skin underneath. He hesitates before pushing the doors open, wishing he knew where his hat was. He's already going to be getting enough unwanted attention as it is; showing up hatless is only going to make things worse. All the rage he'd felt towards Kenny not five minutes earlier has somehow morphed into some combination of furious, fearful anxiety.
"You don't have to go in there," Token says from his left. Craig doesn't look at him; he just continues to stare straight ahead. "There's nothing stopping you from taking the rest of the day off and going home."
Craig knows things are bad when Token is suggesting he skip the afternoon. Token has always been a stickler for school rules.
"Yeah," Clyde says, materializing at Craig's right elbow. "I'll come with you, we can go to my house and play video games. My dad's gone all week."
Craig knows things are really bad when Clyde's offering to skip the afternoon with him. He'd stopped skipping in tenth grade after missing so much school he had been banned from attending the Homecoming dance.
"No," he says, his voice cracking. He tries again. "No. I gotta– I have to fucking do this. Kenny needs to know what the fuck he did to me."
"Okay," is all Token says, knowing better than to argue. "Go ahead. We'll be right behind you."
Craig isn't sure what exactly he had been expecting when he walks into the cafeteria, but it definitely hadn't been for everyone to immediately stop talking and turn to stare at him. It's like one of Clyde's stupid teen movies the way that every single active conversation dies the second he enters the room. He can feel all of the eyes on him, and that's bad enough, but the silence is deafening.
It feels like hours that he's standing there, eyes scanning the tables, his heart jumping into his throat every time he catches sight of blonde hair. In reality, it probably takes less than a minute for him to realize, heart sinking, that Kenny isn't in here.
And neither is Tweek.
His brain is already betraying him, churning out scenarios Craig doesn't want to be imagining faster than he can even keep up with: Kenny and Tweek out behind the art building, the high school's designated makeout spot; Kenny and Tweek in the second-floor bathroom, doing all of the things Kenny used to claim he'd done a hundred times before with a hundred different people; Kenny and Tweek deciding to skip school, walking back to Tweek's house, where they can be alone together on the same couch that Kenny had slept on last night. Kenny and Tweek, alone together. Craig's mind spins, the only thing he can focus on those two words. Alone. Together. Alone. Together.
Alone. The way he's going to be, for the rest of his life. There's no together in Craig's future. How can there be without Tweek?
He sees Kyle look up and notice him, and then say something to Stan across the table. Stan turns in his seat, looking like he wants to murder Craig, and then he's jumping up and storming across the cafeteria.
"Oh, great," he vaguely hears Token mutter from behind him. "Here we go."
Token and Clyde each grab one of Craig's elbows, and then they're leading him right back out of the cafeteria. They make it as far as the water fountain three feet from the cafeteria doors before they burst open again and Stan shouts at him, "What the fuck, Tucker?"
Craig can only stare at him, numb, his mind too busy racing with other thoughts to have the energy to deal with this confrontation right now.
"Hey!" Clyde immediately jumps to Craig's defense. "What are you yelling at him for?"
"I told you not to show anyone!" Stan's so angry he's practically foaming at the mouth, and Craig's lack of a reaction is only pissing him off more. He rips his hat off his head and balls it up in one of his fists. "The only reason I gave the fucking thing to you in the first place was so this didn't happen!"
"Stan," Kyle says wearily, having followed his self-proclaimed super best friend out into the hallway.
"Yeah, I think you need to calm down." There's an edge to Token's voice that isn't usually there. Craig feels a rush of gratitude for his two best friends for sticking with him through all this shit and always having his back.
"Don't tell me to calm down!" Stan glares at Token and swats away the reassuring hand Kyle is trying to place on his shoulder. "I thought you of all people would understand what would happen if that list got out, Tucker!"
"Wait." Craig laughs, a bitter, angry bark of a laugh that sounds foreign to his own ears. "You really think I fuckin' did this on purpose?"
"Who the fuck else would have?" Stan takes a step towards him, like he's going to try to hit him or something. He's trying to look threatening, but Craig has never been afraid of Stan Marsh in his life and he's not about to start now. "You're number one on it! What happened, did you finally get sick of being a pathetic loser who can't get a date and you're trying to use some fourth-grade bullshit to make yourself look cool?"
"Stan, come on." Kyle has the exhausted look of someone who's been listening to this for hours. "Is this really necessary?"
"Yeah, fuck you!" Clyde crosses his arms, glaring right back at the two of them. "Craig was cool even before he was first on the list!"
"I really don't think that's the issue right now," Token mutters. It's half to himself, but since Craig is standing right next to him, he hears all the exasperation in his friend's voice.
"Oh, please!" Stan rolls his eyes. "Being an asshole isn't being cool, Clyde, being an asshole just means being an asshole!"
"You would know!" Craig fires back. "You're the one who came out here and started fuckin' attacking me, Marsh, what the fuck did I do to you?"
"You let Cartman have the list!" Stan throws his arms up in the air, sending his hat flying halfway down the hall. "Wendy already dumped me this morning because I lied to her about burning it!"
"How is you lying to your girlfriend in fourth grade my fuckin' fault? She should have broken up with you years ago!" Craig can hear himself getting way too loud but he can't seem to remember how to lower his voice. He wonders, just for a second, where all the teachers are and why they're not interfering. "God, it was fuckin' years ago, why do any of you even care?"
"You obviously care, so why shouldn't I? And it's your fault because she never would have known that I lied if you hadn't given it to Cartman!" Stan screeches, and everyone winces. Kyle covers his ears.
"He didn't!" Clyde retorts before Craig can. "He wouldn't do that because then–"
"Shut up!" Craig shouts, fury and panic shooting throughout his entire body as Clyde comes dangerously close to being his typical self and saying something he shouldn't. "Just shut the fuck up!"
"Where's the list now?" Token asks Kyle, who sighs.
"Cartman dragged Butters off to the library with him to help make copies," he says, cringing a little. "He said he's going to post them all around the school."
"Fuckin' great," Craig mutters, once more not realizing he's yanking on his own hair until he feels the pain. "That's exactly what I fuckin' need."
"What are you so upset for?" Stan isn't shouting anymore, but he's still looking at Craig like he's going to murder him with his bare hands right there in the hallway. "I would think you'd be happy, getting a chance to have some girls pay attention to you for once."
"Blow me, asshole." Craig flips him off, notices that his hand is shaking, and lets his arm fall back to his side.
"If you didn't give him the list..." Kyle says, frowning in thought. "Who did?"
"Why don't you ask fuckin' McCormick?" Craig mutters, the taste of Kenny's name on his tongue making him want to throw up again.
"Kenny?" Kyle makes a doubtful face. "I don't think so. I haven't seen Kenny today." He turns to Stan. "Have you?"
"No." Stan shakes his head, running a hand through his hair, as dark as Craig's but not even close to as long. Craig self-consciously mirrors the action, thinking again about how much he needs a fucking haircut. "He's probably skipping today."
"But we saw him this morning!" Clyde says, confused. "He and Tweek were walking to school together." He pauses, and there's a very obvious note of something – disappointment, maybe? – in his voice when he continues, the words coming out much slower than usual for Clyde. "But actually, now that I think about it… I haven't seen Tweek all morning either."
He looks to Token for confirmation. Token frowns as he thinks for a second before nodding. "I don't have classes with him in the mornings, but we usually pass each other at break. I didn't see him today but I just figured he was waiting for you." He directs the last sentence towards Craig.
It's only for a split-second, but Craig can swear he sees Stan's eyes light up with something evil, right before his rival since elementary school says with a smirk, "Oh, well, I guess someone should check the upstairs bathroom then."
And before he even really registers what he's doing, Craig pulls his arm back and punches Stan square in the fucking face.
He's not Kenny McCormick, but he'll do for now.
First Date Ideas (not that I'll ever get the chance)
1. Stark's Pond at night with a blanket so we could watch the stars
2. The amusement park in Denver. I know he loves Ferris wheels
3. We could go on a picnic if I knew how to cook
4. One of the cooking classes at the community center
5. Or just stay home and let him show me how to make cupcakes
6. Or just stay home and watch a movie
7. Or just stay home and hug him
8. I'd give fucking anything to hug him
9. And to have him hug me back
10. Honestly, I wouldn't care where went or what we did, as long as I got to be with him