I'll be honest, even I'm surprised that I have gotten away with the things I've done. It's the most satisfying feeling ever just to see everything twisted to my will. Knowing I could pull all sorts of crazy schemes to rope my friends into because no one dared to stop me! I wasn't even an adult yet, but I had all the power in the world!
So I ask, what do you do when you got away again, but there is no satisfaction? When all that power is stripped away in one fleeting moment? And that dissatisfaction didn't happen immediately; it was a couple of days after when I was found innocent.
My dad was driving me to Cherry Oaks to visit Token right after he picked me up from the psychologist's office.
"I couldn't stand her! She was so pretentious! I swear the whole time I wanted to stick the scissors she had on her desk into my ears!" I complained.
"Yes, son. Those mental help types think they're making a difference but they just like hearing them talk." My father responded.
"Exactly! I wish my punishment was community service or something! I would rather pick up all the litter in this stupid town than listen about my supposed "mental health" issues!"
My dad chuckled. "If you want the whole process to go by faster, just act how they want you to act. Nod, smile, make it seem like you're putting in the effort to change. And if that doesn't work, invest in some earplugs."
"And that works?"
He looked over to me briefly and smirked. "How do you think I end arguments with your mother quickly?"
I laughed out loud. "Yes, sir!" My dad always had my back; I could never have these conversations with my mom.
I get out of the car when he pulled up to Token's and I waved goodbye when he drove off. I don't even bother knocking cause I had a key to my best friend's place, of course.
I began my way to the elevator when I heard three distinct voices from the dining room.
"Making one instead of buying turned out to be a good idea, after all, Jimmy! It just needs a touch more glitter."
"Don't move it! I'm not done writing my punchline! And no more glitter! You're giving us craft herpes!"
"Craft herpes, he says! I got the check right here."
"Aw, Arts and Crafts, kiddies?" I said in a teasing tone. "Had I know, I would have brought rim-stones to bedazzle our phone cases."
The other guys looked shook and tried to hide the incriminating evidence. Token shoved the rectangular paper into his jacket. Jimmy folded his arms over whatever he was just writing on. And Clyde dropped the bottle of glitter on the table.
"Craig! I, uhhh, I didn't hear you come in!" Token blabbed.
"I have a key."
"What? Since when?" Token asked, genuinely confused.
"Ok, quit beating around the bush. What are you guys making?" I walked around behind Jimmy.
"None of you bit-. None of your bis-ahh. None of your concern!" Jimmy stuttered then snapped at me before he slapped a hand over his mouth. I gave him a death glare then noticed a corner of the paper was sticking out when he put his hand up. I yanked the paper from under his hands, much to everyone's demise.
It was a handmade card. On the front, it said "get well soon" in bold glitter text. "Oh, someone is sick? Anyone, I know?" I asked absently.
I opened the card. I didn't even read the messages I just saw the name and my blood run cold.
"Tweek?" I whispered. "Tweek?" I said a little louder. "Why?" I asked a little emotional.
"Because an innocent kid was attacked and we did nothing to stop it," Token said quietly and took the rectangular paper out. It was a check as I heard before, for $500.
"The least we could do is show that we didn't mean for it to go that far."
"But you're not his friends! You're my friends!" I shouted. "And you're giving him money too! When all I get from you are lousy video games and gift cards?"
"He's gonna be in the hospital for who knows how long! His parents are gonna need help paying the bill!" Jimmy explained.
"Look, going behind your back to make this was not the brightest idea," Clyde said. "But we can make it right for everyone! Why not you sign it and give it to him when we all go visit him?"
I was so mad at that suggestion I ripped the stupid thing into pieces. I heard Clyde squeaked in fear.
"I. Can't. Believe. You ASSHOLES!" I said in between the rips. I let my craft massacre fall in between my fingers.
"I can't believe how weak you guys are! You feel bad for the dumb Spaz because you have Survivor's Guilt?! He's our enemy! He doesn't deserve our sympathy! Are y'all that obliviously naïve that I have to spell all this out for you?!"
"ENOUGH, TUCKER!" Token screamed at me. We were all genuinely shocked by his outburst.
"Stop using "our"! You're the only one who has a problem with him!" The dark-skinned boy stepped closer to me.
"We told you before to stop bothering him at least for one day! But you wouldn't listen! You were a dime a dozen bully back in middle school! But now, you're acting like a complete psycho! You almost killed him!"
"Since when does a beat down equal a murder? And I'm not a psycho!"
"You're not? You're not?! Craig, when we heard his bones cracked that day, we were horrified! We were nauseous when there was so much blood on the ground! When I brought your fake medical records to the court, I was scared for my life that I'll be caught too! But of course. You're too smart and stone-cold to have emotions, right?!"
"Token, you've made your point. Stop." I tried to explain.
"Why don't you feel guilty?" He said with spiteful tears in his eyes. "WHY DON'T YOU FEEL ANYTHING?!"
"Token!" I sternly said. I raised my fist, aimed directly at his face. He went pale; well, as pale as a dark-skinned boy could get. The other guys stood up to grab him from behind. To protect him. Token had the same look of fear on his face as-
I exhaled and dropped my fist. "Spaz is probably ok and you wimps are making a big deal out of nothing," I told them, trying to keep my voice steady. I stormed out of the mansion, making sure I slammed the door on the way out.
As I ran down the pavement, Token's last words were reverberating in my head. Why don't I feel anything? Because emotions make you vulnerable, irrational, and a pussy! And daddy didn't raise a pussy!
I slowed down to a walk. But ever since I disciplined that faggot, I've been losing myself to my emotions lately. I have never felt so angry. And even now, I felt betrayed by my only allies. I was about to lash out at Token because I didn't keep my cool.
"Ugh, get it together, Craig!" I said while rubbing my face. "Getting worked up about this means you do give a shit about the Spaz."
The other guys are exaggerating! I bet he's fine! He had to be fine! The little bastard is just healing!
I walked to the bus stop to uptown South Park.
-/-
I walked into Hell's Pass and walked up to the receptionist's desk.
"Can I help you?" The woman in a sea-green uniform asked.
"Yeah, it's still visiting hours, right? I wanna see Tweek Tweak?"
"Yes, it's still visiting hours." She tapped on her computer. "He's in room-" then she took a good look at me. "Wait a minute. You're the kid who attacked him! Look Craig, I don't think he would be comfortable seeing you."
"But what if I wanted to apologize?" I raised an eyebrow.
"He still needs time. His wounds are still fresh, in more ways than one." She said that last part in a low tone. "I can't in good consciousness have you see him."
"Fine!" I turned around. "Bitch." I said in a low enough tone for her to hear and walked out.
Once I was outside, out of her eyeshot, I started to pace, formulating another way to see Tweek. I started to walk back to the front doors. The chips fell into my lap yet again, when the receptionist from before is switched out with another receptionist. The new one had a big smile and an even bigger set of innocent eyes.
I smirked. But just to be safe, I took off my chullo hat and pulled my hoodie up.
"Welcome! Can I help you?" The new one said brightly like people don't die in this place.
"Yes, I wanna see my… cousin, Tweek Tweak. He was in a terrible attack."
As predicted, I got my visitor's pass with no sweat. She didn't ask questions when I gave her my real first name! What a ditz!
I located the room she told me and stepped inside nonchalantly. "Ok, Spaz. Don't freak, but-"
Time froze when I saw Tweek.
In my life, I've prepared for a lot of things. How to get revenge and how to stay out of trouble. This was the first time I thought I was prepared but that was farthest from the truth.
Blood was seeping through the bandages all over his forehead. One eye was pitch black. His left arm was covered in a blue cast but both were injected with wires. I could also see red and blue wires protruding out of his nightgown in the chest area. He had a tube covering his mouth and nose pushing oxygen into him.
"I did this?" I asked the unconscious body. I shook my head and grabbed my hair! No! No! I'm mean, but I'm not a murderer!
At the foot of the bed, I saw a clipboard. I picked it up and read it over. He had a punctured lung… broken ribs… a minor skull infraction. I felt woozy to the point I dropped to my knees and allowed the clipboard to escape from me.
I felt drops of water on my fists as the gravity of the situation finally crushed me. I could have killed him. He would have been dead if those girls didn't stop me! If my fake mental health scheme didn't work, I could have been in jail. For life, even! I'll forever be known as the kid who became a murderer at 15!
I heard footsteps approaching. I panicked; the bed was too low for me to hide under so I hid in the storage closet in the room.
I heard the door open and two pairs of footsteps entered. I opened my door a crack and saw Tweek's parents hover over their son.
"He's still sleeping." His mother asked sitting in the chair at Tweek's side.
"Let him rest, he needs all his strength. At least we know he's conscious." Oh, so he was alive. I saw Mr. Tweak then rubbed his face. "What did we do to deserve this?"
"That Tucker boy should be in his place!"
"Mary!"
"I mean it, Richard!" She stood up to face him and snapped. "We almost lost our only child because of him! And on the same day he finally woke up, after two painful weeks, the court found him innocent?! What kind of sick joke is this?!" She collapsed in the chair and massaged her temples.
Mr. Tweak came up from behind her and squeezed her shoulders. The more I stayed in that closet, the harder it was to breathe.
"Mr. and Mrs. Tweak? A word?" The doctor asked from the doorway. The parents followed him out. I clumsily escaped my hideout and walked over to Tweek. I knelt by his bedside and took his hand in both of mine.
"You know me, I don't normally lose myself as I did," I whispered. "But I was just so angry. And I'm still angry! At myself! I feel so angry and sad and guilty." I sniffled and put my head down. I felt his cold hand on my forehead and cried. That's all I could do with these damn emotions, cry.
"I'll never put us in this situation again, Tweek," I said his name for the first time in forever.
I heard him groan and I felt his finger moved. I quickly got up and left before he could recognize me. I ran down the stairs, not wanting an accidental run-in on the elevator, and speed-walked my way through the lobby and out the front doors.
-/-
The next day, I went back to Token's house. I rang the doorbell.
Token answered and looked skeptically at the bouquet of roses in my arms.
"Are those flowers your way of apologizing for yesterday?" He leaned against the doorway and crossed his arms.
"Shut up. Look, I did go overboard with Tweek." He stood up straight when I said that. I exhaled and continued.
"Holy shit, you said his name." Token said astonished.
"I wanna make things right. But since I can't exactly show my face, I need you to make a delivery for me."
-/-
I hid by the side of the house while Token talked to Mr. Tweak at his front door.
"This is a nice bouquet." He said.
"Yes, my… parents send their condolences." Token fibbed.
"Well, condolences doesn't pay the bills, son."
"Funny, you should say that," Token pulled out a new handmade card. Mr. Tweak opened it and marveled at the check.
"That's from me and my other friends."
"Son, why are you doing this? I don't have any qualms with you, but you're one of Craig's friends."
"I'm here for myself, Mr. Tweak. If I could take back what happened, I sincerely would. I insist you take the money to help pay off the debts. And you don't even have to say my name if you want to give the flowers and card to Tweek. I wouldn't accept from me either."
"Token…"
"It's ok, Mr. Tweak! Have a good day!" He jogged off his porch and turned right, walking past me. Once I heard the door close, I ran away to catch up to Token.
"That could have gone better. But why did you tell him he doesn't have to tell Tweek the flowers were from me?"
"You know he wouldn't accept it if it was from you."
My chest tightens; of course, I did. "But now Tweek won't know that I'm trying!"
He stopped and turned to me. "Give him space, Craig. That's all you can do."
-:-
For once, I took Token's words seriously. It began small; I anonymously mailed flowers and small toys to Tweek's hospital room. Just to let him know that someone was thinking about him.
Then, he was released and he still wasn't 100%. He was in a wheelchair for a couple of weeks. But he would accept no sympathy from others; he would still work at the café, talk to his friends, or do any other activity like nothing. He was a trooper!
I would see him around town, I never wanted to bother him so I watched from a distance. I would take the long way back home, just to see him closing up at the shop through the windows.
But he wasn't all that put together as it seems. Sometimes I caught glimpses of him being drained. Like he really did feel useless, even with the physical therapy. Too many bad stuff happened all at once and he couldn't get one moment of peace.
I wanted nothing more than to run up to him and throw myself onto him. Show him that I cared too. But I was smarter than that. He really was my forbidden apple, and I waited and craved for weeks on end. It's like 70% of my thoughts were of my forbidden apple and the little things I noticed about him.
Like how he's ironically less nervous when he's working. His eyes are unusual but beautifully bright (and bonus, my favorite color was blue). His ivory skin leaves me up at night just wondering if it was really soft as it seems.
He treated his girlfriends like they were the only people in the room. He still cared for them despite everything. You could see it when they hugged or when one of them kissed him on the cheek. And they would do this publicly like I would be walking down a sidewalk and Tweek would be on the other side of the road with Bebe for example. I remembered being jealous; not because of their friendship. Because even I could admit to myself that the infatuation I had was not platonic. I was jealous because of how easy it was for them to be in Tweek's good graces again.
I was there when Tweek started walking on two legs again. Well, I was in the lobby of the hospital and when Tweek walked out with his parents I hid my face behind a magazine. I was closest to the window so I watched them until they were out of sight. His mom held onto his arm, but Tweek took it away and walked to their car all on his own.
"I promise, Tweekers. Things are gonna change between us." I smiled. I've changed. I know I have.
Tonight is the night! My date with my Tweekers! I looked at myself in the mirror and fumbled with my appearance. Was I ok? Black jeans, tight forest green shirt to show off abs (Tweek's favorite color), Air Jordans. Ok. I picked up my comb for the 50th time to style my gelled hair. I was so excited, yet so nervous!
This is the night that Tweek turns around for me. He's still so scared of me. But I swear by tonight, he'll see me in a new light.
I stopped styling, checked my already clear skin, and left the bathroom. While I was walking down the stairs, I chewed on a handful of mints I had in my pocket.
"Going out, Dad!" I mumbled as I passed the living room. My hand was on the handle when he called out to me.
"HOLD IT!"
I gulped down my mints and stood back erect in front of my burly father, Thomas Tucker. He gulped down the rest of his beer can and threw it on the floor.
"Tuck in that shirt, boy. What have I taught you?"
"Appearance first," I said as did what I was told. He stood up from his place to walk closer to me. I haven't hit my growth spurt yet so he had a good 5 inches on me. He circled me like a hawk, inspecting me.
"Don't tell me, you have a date." He said coldly.
"How did you-"
"You think I'm stupid, Craig?"
"Of course not, sir!"
"Where will you be?"
"An arcade in North Park. I'm taking the train."
"Someone I know?"
"Oh, just a classmate I met this year." I fiddled with my hands. Yeah, I don't think my father would be too pleased to find out I'm dating a boy. Especially a boy we both at one point deemed worthless.
"Well, you're not gonna impress any girl twiddling your thumbs like that! Look up!" I snapped my eyes up. "Be confident! Or fake some confidence!"
"Right. Uh, father? I really like this one, but she doesn't think I'm right for her. How do I show her I'm the best option?"
He crosses his arms and scoffs. "Really? She doesn't think my son is good enough for her? You really wanna waste your time?"
"Trust me, father. It's worth it."
"Okay. The problem is that you said "best option". You have to treat her like you're her only option. You can't get any better than a Tucker. We're a lot more respectable than the other white trash in this hick town. Understand?"
"Yes, sir!" I smirked. He was right! It's like I said before, who else would have eyes for Tweek?
"Very good, my son. Remember, you're a Tucker. And that name holds great fear and respect. It's a responsibility representing that name."
"Not really. Cause our name comes from the Old English term "Tucian" which means "to torment". And that's exactly what we do to people who try us." I recited.
He grinned. "Excellent. You're a chip off the old block. Now get out of here!" He shoved me toward the front door.
"And Craig?"
"Yes?"
"Don't show up empty-handed."
I'm calling it; I'm gonna die tonight.
If not by Craig's hands, then by a heart attack.
I shouldn't have agreed to this. I should've continued to ignore him as Heidi said. Ugh! I have a date with Craig Tucker and I just admitted that Heidi was right! I can't win today!
My mirror image slouched in front of me. I didn't try when picking out my outfit. A cerulean blue polo, blue jeans, and black Vans.
"Maybe a tornado will come and swept me up before Craig gets here." I trudge down the stairs and into the kitchen. I grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl and saw my mom rolling dough.
"Aw, are you making beignets?"
"For dessert, yes. I'll save you one." My mother answers me.
"But I like them fresh! I can wait around for a while."
Mom stops rolling and turns to me. "That's just the first date jitters talking. No need to nervous. Any boy would be so lucky to have you!" She kisses my forehead.
"Maman, arrête! Vous me gênez ! (Translation: Mom, stop! You're embarrassing me!)
"Silence! J'ai raison!" (Silence! I'm right)
"I hate it when you two speak French around me." My dad chuckled. Mom and I both giggle at his response.
Then the doorbell rings. I dropped my unbitten apple as my blood runs cold.
Now?! He's here now?!
"I'll get it." Dad makes his way to the front door.
"Dad, no!" I follow him.
"Son, calm down. We have to meet him before you go."
I watched from behind the sofa as Dad opens the door with a smile. Only to be smacked clean off when he comes eye to eye with grey eyes.
"Hello, Mr. Tweak. I'm here for " Craig begins but he closes the door. Dad takes a breath before opening the door again.
"Tweek, please?" Craig finishes. Dad closes the door again. He turns around with fearful eyes.
"Uh, honey?"
"What?" Mom calls out from the kitchen.
"Craig Tucker is at our door." He says shakily.
Mom quickly joins the scene. "What?!"
"Yeah, he's my date," I say softly. Both of them are flabbergasted.
"What should I do?" Dad asks.
"Well, don't let him in!" Mom demands.
"We don't have much of a choice." I look at Dad. He understands and opens the door again.
"May I speak now?" Craig asks irritated. I just noticed the bouquet.
"You may…"
"Thank you!" He lets himself in. "Wow, you still got a nice house, Mr. Tweak! It's just how I'd remembered it! I mean, nothing's changed. You still got the same coffee stains on the carpet."
Craig stops in his tracks when Mom pointed her rolling pin at him.
"Not. Another. Step! Fils de Lucifer! (Son of Lucifer) I don't know who thinks you're fooling, but if you think you're going to hurt my son again! You got another thing coming!"
"Mom, stop!" I call out. I hold onto her arm.
"Mrs. Tweak, rest assured. If I still hated Tweek, I would have done something to him by now." Craig explains. "But I come to see Tweek in a new light. I'm not that angry kid from middle school. I wanna make amends to him. And thereby, to you." He gives the bouquet to my mom.
"Craig, you must understand that it's hard to take your word for it when Tweek was in the hospital 3 months ago because of you!" She threw the bouquet on the floor. "We're still paying off the medical bills!"
"Come on, you run a successful business selling crack coffee and you're still paying?"
"You-!" I put my hand on her shoulder and pull her back. Shaking my head telling her it's not worth it to attack him for that comment.
Mom pulls me into the kitchen and grabs my shoulders. "Anthony, listen to me. You can't go anywhere with him. He isn't your friend or a potential boyfriend. He's pure evil! I almost lost you once and, and-"
"Mom, I understand. Believe me, I don't want to go out either. But since school started, he hasn't beaten me or done anything because of his "crush" on me. I don't like it but I don't want to relive middle school. And I'm hoping after tonight, he'll figure out that we're in no way compatible in any way."
Mom search my face and gave a reluctant sigh. "Tweek, whatever you do, don't put your trust in him."
I hug her and she hugs back twice as hard. "Je promets (I promise)."
I return to the living room with Craig sitting on the couch and my dad standing awkwardly in the living room. Craig looks up at me with a hopeful look.
"Let's go," I say with resistance.
Craig shoots up to his feet and wraps an arm around my shoulders. "Thanks, Mrs. Tweak! I'll bring him back in one piece." I hear my mom curse under her breath in French but Craig waves them off. He escorts me out the door and closes it behind him.
"So you're French?" He asks curiously.
"On my Mom's side, yes."
"Can you say something in French for me?"
"Peux-tu me lâcher, s'il te plaît? (Can you please let go of me? (inf.)) I say in an impassive tone. Craig grabs his chest and swoons dramatically. He then bends down near my ear.
"Can you draw nude models too?"
"Dude!" I smack him on the chest.
"Come on, Tweekers!" Craig said to his date after he bought both of their tickets. He was holding his hand and running toward the train with him. He held his hand while they boarded and found seats for them near the back of the train. Craig felt gracious and allowed him to get the window seat.
"We're going have so much fun, babe!" Craig said giddily. No mothers that don't trust him; no annoying females of any kind. Just the two of them. He sighs dreamily.
"I bet. Where are we going again?"
Craig gives a faint frown. He felt a little disheartened by that comment because he talked about it nonstop that week when he suggested going up to North Park.
"Uh, an arcade. I found a discount."
"Oh, that's cool." He then leaned his head against the glass.
It wasn't until the ticker puncher came for their tickets that Craig thought about starting up a conversation. They weren't even in town yet and he's already bored of him. He stared at his handsome profile. His right profile was facing me so Craig only saw his blue eye. It went with his blue shirt perfectly. Tweek wasn't on his phone, that was a good sign, right?
Remember what Dad said, fake some confidence! Craig's conscience yells at him. Talk about him! He's nice, beautiful! The hair, the eyes, anything! Pick a feature!
"Tweekers," Craig begins. Tweek turns so that he gets to see his green left eye too. Craig gulps before continuing, "You're very..."
Wonderful. Magnificent. Glorious… Punctual!
"Punctual!"
"Punctual?" Tweek raises an eyebrow.
Shit!
"I mean, beautiful!" That was still a bumpy recovery.
"Uh, thanks." Tweek nods slowly. "Speaking of punctual, you arrived early to pick me up. Like an hour earlier. Was this the only train you could catch?"
Craig gives a nervous chuckle. "Well, you know… I'mjustobsessedwithyou." I say in a low tone staring at him. I didn't even have time to think before saying that.
"What was that?"
"I was ready I assumed you were too!"
Tweek goes back to staring as Craig wallows in embarrassment and self-loathing.
Craig exits the train the same way we boarded, his hand squeezing mine. By our train stop, there was a mall. An enormous one at that.
"Wow, I always forget how little industrialized we are compared to our neighbors." I comment.
"They may have the better stores, but the action happens down south." Craig responds trying to sound cool.
"But we're not here to shop." He says. "Turn around."
I do and a couple of miles away from the other side of the train tracks. Is a Dave & Busters.
Realization struck. This was the arcade I wanted to take the girls to so we can reconnect. The nurses found the passes on my person crumbled up with blood smeared on them. My breathing hitched and I felt my mismatched eyes go glassy. I shut them tight but that made some tears fall.
I feel his hand on my cheek. "What's wrong, honey?" He wipes the tears away.
I don't look at him. "I wanted to come here a long time ago. With my friends, actually."
"And they rejected you?"
I look at him with sullen eyes. At first, yes. Then you put me in the hospital!
"Well, you don't have to worry about them!" He says changing the tone. "And think how jealous they'll be when you tell them how much they missed out. Let's go!" He takes me over the bridge to the other side of the tracks.
I hate myself once again for not standing up to him.
It's dark and noisy inside. Maybe the dimmed lights could help me trick my brain into not believing I'm with Craig and have a good time.
"Here you go, babe!" He hands me a plastic card. Unfortunately, his voice shatters my illusion.
"What's this?"
"It's a power card! You swipe it to play games and it stores the digital tickets you win."
"Whistling Willy's still uses coins and paper tickets." I say incredulously. When was this installed?
"I know. We're so backward." He squeezes my shoulders from behind. He escorts me towards the games.
"Ok, so we got 100 chips on each card. I know they're rechargeable, but I wanna save some money for dinner."
I wasn't even going to mention that I thought it was a bad idea to already spend $40 on games alone. But I guess he got everything covered.
"I asked you out. You choose the first game." He looks down at me. His arm is still around my shoulders.
"Oh. Well, you can't go wrong with Skee Ball."
"I was just thinking that!" He pecks my cheek quickly and I follow him toward Skee Ball. While I grimace behind his back.
Unfortunately, two jock-like men were hogging the only two rows. They had names on their jerseys; the one closest to me was Ram and the guy next to him was Kurt.
"Excuse me?" I ask politely. I place my card down. "We wanna play next."
"Beat it, twerp! We got dibs on this all night!" Ram flicked my card down. I felt Craig let go of me and saw him cross his arms.
"What, dude! This ain't elementary school where you can hog the swings!" I rebutted. "I asked politely to play! Though, now that I'm looking at you, I can see why you choose a game that only requires your arms." These guys have skipped leg day too many times.
"He said beat it, Twink! Before we cause a scene!" Kurt screams. I was about to scream back when Craig put his arm in front of me.
"Baby, don't waste your time on these wannabes. They saw us and felt intimidated cause they don't want to take up the challenge."
"What?!" The jocks shout offended.
"No, no. Beating you meatheads won't even be a challenge."
"Ok, you wanna go, fags? Let's do this!" Ram demands. Kurt takes a step back and Ram takes his row. I nod and occupy Ram's row. I put in the 10 chips to play and the competition begins. Ram is throwing his balls 50s and 40s holes. A little rough I should add too. Like this isn't basketball, calm down.
I'm using special skills called precision and hand-eye coordination. Taking my time to score them in the 50s hole. I had in the 100s holes a couple of times too. Ram was giving off waves of irritation and continue to viciously throw his balls. He took lucky shots at the 100s holes.
When time's up, I had 700 points and Ram was 650. The look of disbelief on his face was hysterical. Before Craig and Kurt take our places, Craig pulls me to the side.
"Nice playing, babe. But the score is too close for my liking."
"There's nothing to worry about. I'm 50 points ahead."
"A couple of balls in the 40s and they'll have us beat. Now look at that Kurt guy, he's bigger than the other. But his legs are wobbly like they're struggling to keep him balanced. I'm willing to bet that he has never heard the meaning of the term "leg day"."
"Yeah, I noticed that too." I'm looking at Kurt and I don't think I've seen him stand up straight tonight. Right now he has his legs crossed and he's leaning to his right side.
"So, I'm gonna need you to throw him off balance while I'm dueling him."
"What?!" I whisper-shouted. "I'm not gonna trip him."
"It looks like a tap on the calf is enough. Come on, Tweekers! If it was some other innocent patron, I wouldn't suggest it. But do you really want to lose to a couple of bastards who still use the word-"
"Hey, fags! What's the hold-up?!" Kurt rudely shouts.
I send a death glare his way then Craig and I look at each other in confirmation. I stand on Kurt's right side and, lucky for us, Ram is on Craig's left side. Thinking he could get in his head.
They swipe their cards and continue where Ram and I left off. I let Kurt play for a couple of minutes; he's more precise than Ram. Shooting mostly 50s.
I test Craig's theory by lightly kicking Kurt in the back of the calf. He fell with no grace forward. Dropping his ball as he caught himself on the row. I cover my mouth to keep my composure.
"Stop it!" He tells me.
"Stop what? I didn't do anything." I answer.
Kurt goes back to rolling and I kick him in the same place again. This time he did like a tipsy two-step before falling forward. His upper body slams against the row. I couldn't contain my laughter that time.
"Stop laughing!" Kurt stands up and faces me. "I know that was you!"
"I'm just standing here! Don't blame me cause you're bad at this game!"
"You miserable-!"
"DUDE!" Ram calls out to his buddy. The buzzer goes off and the final score is Craig at a whopping 1400 and Kurt at a sad 950. Huh, Craig did better than I thought.
"Yes, in your faces! You northerners are all talk but when you're faced with a real challenge, ya'll run away scared!" He says in victory with a crazy tint in his eyes.
Craig goes over to me and takes my hand. "Well, that was fun." He says calmly. "Now y'all can retreat to your mama's basement." He tells the losers.
Ram pulls a protesting Kurt toward the exit. "He was cheating I swear!" I hear his faint cries until there's no more.
Craig smiles down at me. "Great job." I tell him.
"You too. Now, I'm hungry."
"These burgers are so greasy, I'm already sweating," I say in between bites. They're bigger than my hand!
"Tell me about it," Craig says from across from me. "I don't think I can keep eating." He takes another bite with no problem and grabs some of our shared fries from the center of the table.
"Right." I raised an eyebrow. "You dominated that Skee Ball game. Did you really need me to kick Kurt?"
"Of course! Skills or no skills, we gotta plan ahead, right? Plus the asshole needed to suffer a little bit."
"You're not wrong."
"I didn't say before but you look cute tonight. I've supposed it was unintentional that you're wearing my favorite color?" He leans in with his head on his cheek.
"No. Like it was unintentional for you to wear my favorite color."
"Nope." He smirks. "But it's cute that we color-coordinated our outfits like a real couple."
"Whoa, don't say couple!" I bring my hands up.
"Sorry. We're not a couple yet."
"Why do you assume that we can just be together like the last three years didn't happen?" I finally told him off. "I can't trust you!"
"Well, why don't you trust me?" He snaps back. "I haven't punched you or pranked you. I wouldn't take you out here if I still hated you. My feelings for you are genuine, Tweek! I'm trying to make it up to you! Why are still stuck in the past!"
I push my burger forward and cross my arms on the table. "Even if your feelings are true, I still have that trauma. You paralyzed me. I was in a wheelchair. Just because it's over doesn't mean I don't think about it. I was crying earlier at the bus stop because I wanted to bring the girls here that summer before you happened."
I hear the table creak and feel his body heat as he's now sitting next to me.
"Tweek, you can't let fear run your life. You're not in elementary or middle school anymore. Things are different. I'm different. So stop reliving your sob story."
I glare at him through misty eyes. "I guess you wouldn't understand, would you, Craig? You're cold and decisive; you're so perfect, it's scary."
"That I am. I don't have trauma like you. Unless you count me almost having a heart attack when I visited you in the hospital."
"You -you visited me?"
"Yeah, I was so certain that the damage wasn't that bad but I was dead wrong. I wanted to apologize to you but the very last thing you needed was for me to bother you again. I guess… it was that time I started to notice how strong, brave, and cute you are. After you healed of course."
I searched his face for the tiniest indication that he was lying. But he wasn't. I was gonna say something but he continued.
"I also could say that my mom leaving me to live here in North Park was very traumatic but I don't really care."
Wait, what? "Your mom left?"
"And took my little sister with her. This was also over the summer." He stares at the table with eyes gleaming with betrayal and sadness. He confesses in a low tone.
"So ashamed of her only son that she just… pack up her things and left."
He instantly perks up. "She was right to do so, but it still hurt."
Who would have guessed it? The town's monster Craig Tucker was harboring pain himself. I wipe my tears then I put my hand on his shoulder in reassurance. "I'm so sorry." I whisper; I truly was.
"Don't be." He smiles. "I came here to have a good time with you." He stands up. "Now which game can I beat your ass in?" He smirks.
I match his smirk. Maybe he's right, we had enough melodrama for one night. "No no no no. Don't get cocky."
"Can you do that no no no thing again?"
"No no no no."
"I love that." He sighs dreamily. I roll my eyes at him but can't help but smile at his dorky comments.
We make our way towards the games again. But not before Craig picks up his half-eaten burger and takes it with him. Still hungry, he says.
"Tweek! Sweetie, wake up!" I hear someone calling me. I lazily open my eyes to find that I'm on the train. With something fuzzy tickling my nose. I fear that I may have hallucinated Craig opening up to me and me having a good time with him at Dave & Buster's. But the stuffed dolphin I have that he won for me says otherwise.
I pick my head up from the warm surface and find his face so dangerously close to mine. Was I sleeping on him?
"This is South Park! Come on." I let him pull me up to my feet as I sleepily rub the crust from my eyes.
"What time is it?" I yawned as we got off the train.
"Almost 11:00 pm." Craig answers.
"What?!"
"Don't worry, it's a 10-minute walk to your house." Craig pulls me in close and we begin our journey.
I hold my dolphin closer. "I hate that South Park looks creepier at night. Like anything can happen to us. And something always happens!"
The taller of us scoff "Like I'm gonna let some giant douche or turd sandwich put his hands on you."
I smile and slowly start to laugh when he says that.
"What?" He chuckles.
"Remember when we had to vote between those two as our mascots cause PETA protested we can't be the cows?"
"Haha! Then it all didn't matter cause they were all shot! Stan was fucking pissed! Oh my god!"
As he predicted, he got me home safe. I sighed in relief when I saw my chestnut brown – now a dark brown under the night sky – house. We go up to my front stairs.
I turn to face him. "Thanks for walking me home. You get home safe ok?"
"Aw, cutie. If anyone does bother me on my way home, you should feel scared for the offender, not me."
I chuckle. "Right. Listen, about five hours ago, I was dreading tonight. But you really came through for me. I had a really fun time with you."
"Tweek, the pleasure was all mine. So, do I get a kiss?"
I did kiss him. On the cheek that is. The shocked look on his face was so worth it.
"That's all you're getting for tonight."
"I am soooo happy." He smiles at me. "Back together; you and I will be the power couple!" He claims with an air of arrogance.
"We will dominate the town! Like we should have done in our elementary years!" He shouts power-hungry. All that's missing is a wall of fire behind him.
I stare at him with wide frightened eyes. What the hell was he talking about?!
"Too much?" He genuinely asks.
I shake myself out of my stupor. "Good night, Craig!"
I unlock the door and shut it in front of him. I take a peek behind the blinds in the window to see him walking down the sidewalk, grumbling to himself.
I shake my head at his antics and turn around to see my mom was sleeping on the couch. My heart ached; she must've waited for me.
I shake her awake to reassure her that her patience was not in vain. She does wake up and the first thing she does is latched onto me. I wrap my arms around her neck, the dolphin on her back.
I stare at the dolphin. If Craig wasn't a bully anymore, why the hell is he still so damn scary?
AN: Where are my AtLA fans? Who caught the Azula quotes? I made references to other sources of media too, but the Azula quotes are more prominent. Favorite, Follow, and Review