AUTHOR'S NOTE: A Secret Santa gift for my friend and fellow Creek shipper, Katastrophe. Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!
Wendy and her friends had developed a weekly tradition. Every Friday night, they'd kick off the weekend by going out to dinner at the City Wok, where they'd spend hours eating, gossiping and talking about their romantic lives. These were, for the most part, female-only events, though they would occasionally invite either Craig or Tweek. Due to their sexuality, they were perceived as less of a threat to the group; on top of that, some of them liked the idea of having a "gay best friend" in their social circle.
Typically, Craig and Tweek rejected their invitations, as the former usually had better things to do, and the latter felt that being the only boy at an all-girl hangout was "way too much pressure". Tonight, however, was one of the rare Friday nights that Craig didn't have anything else going on. At 7:00 that evening, he found himself seated at a table for seven, surrounded by the sounds of high-pitched giggling as he slurped up a plate of chow fun noodles. He wasn't thrilled, but at least he got some pretty good Chinese food out of the deal.
"So how are you and Token, Nichole?" asked Bebe. "I heard you two lovebirds are going out tomorrow night."
"Eh, we're still working that out," said Nichole. "I think he wants to take me to a movie, but I don't know if there's anything playing that we'll both like."
She then leaned in towards the center of the table, a smile tugging at her lips. "Get this, though. Today at recess, he asked me if I wanted to see the new Chinpokomon movie. Like, seriously? What are you, seven?"
Her remark kicked up a flurry of laughter from the other girls, while Craig just rolled his eyes.
"Come on, Nichole, cut him some slack," Red said as soon as she caught her breath. "Girls mature faster than boys, you know. It's science."
She smiled and leaned back in her chair, feeling quite proud of the truth bomb she just delivered… until she noticed the sole boy at the table out of the corner of her eye.
"Oh! No offense, Craig," she said, turning in his direction.
"None taken, none taken. I mean, who am I to argue with science?"
Although he tried to play it off as nonchalantly as he could, he soon found that all of the eyes at the table were upon him. With just one quip, Red had made him the center of the group's attention.
Ohhhh, boy, he thought.
"You know, we haven't heard from you all evening," said Wendy. "How's your weekend shaping up? Any plans with Tweek?"
Craig shook his head. "Tweek's got strep throat. He'll have to stay home for at least a week."
Some of the girls at the table cringed in sympathy. "Oh, no, poor thing!" cried Heidi, knitting her brow. "I hope it's not too serious."
"I don't think it is," he said. "From what he's told me, it seems like a pretty-"
Just then, he was interrupted by the sharp, piercing sound of his ringtone. A glance at his phone revealed that - speak of the devil - Tweek was on the other line.
"Hold on, girls, I gotta take this," said Craig, as he excused himself from the table. "Hello?...Hey, Tweek. How are you feeling?...Uh-huh…You read what now?...No, Tweek, you don't have necrotizing fasciitis. That's a totally different disease…What?...Dude, that's like saying a house cat is just as dangerous as a lion because they're both felines. It doesn't mean…Okay, yeah, you're right, I'm sorry. I know this must be scary for you…Yes, I miss Melvin Franklin from The Temptations too. But I promise, you don't have flesh-eating disease. You have strep. It sucks, but in a week you'll be fine…Yeah, just get back into bed and keep popping that Ricola…Sure, I'll call you tomorrow morning…Love you too, Tweek. Bye."
He slid his phone into his pocket, walked back to the table and collapsed into his chair with a sigh. "Sorry about that."
"Everything okay?" asked Bebe.
"Yeah, yeah. Tweek just read online that the bacteria that gives you strep comes from the same family as the one that gives you necrotizing fasciitis and he started freaking out. It's fine, though. I talked him down."
Craig leaned forward to snag an egg roll from the center of the table, when his ears picked up some muffled giggling from some of the other girls.
"Did I say something funny?" he asked.
"No, no, it's not you," said Bebe. "It's just, how do you put up with that?"
He turned towards her and raised an eyebrow, suspecting that he knew exactly where this conversation was going.
"Put up with what?"
"Oh, please, like you don't know. Every time that kid has a panic attack, you're the one who has to talk him down!"
Craig winced at the remark, and his discomfort only grew stronger once he heard some of the other girls react with laughter.
"When isn't he having a panic attack?" asked Red. "I swear, his voice only has one volume setting, and that setting is 'high-pitched shriek'."
The girls laughed even harder, and Craig began to squirm in his chair, bristling at the sound.
"Girls, come on, you're being mean," Heidi chided. "I'm sure there's something he sees in Tweek that we don't."
"Oh, yeah? Like what?" asked Nichole. "His constant twitching? His mad scientist hairdo? I mean, he doesn't even know how to button his shirt right!"
Nichole's words ignited a flame in Craig's heart - a flame that swelled and crackled with every haughty giggle or unkind remark.
Keep it together, Craig, he thought, as he ground his teeth and squeezed his chopsticks in a death grip. You're in public. Don't make a scene.
"I mean, in his defense, I'm pretty sure Tweek's the only other gay kid at our school," said Lola. "It's not like he has anyone better to choose from."
"Yeah, but even so!" cried Bebe. "If I was a gay guy and that was my only choice for a partner, I think I'd just chop my balls off."
That did it. That broke the dam. Craig, losing all inhibitions, leaped up from his seat and pounded the table with his fists. The clatter echoed throughout the restaurant and brought the conversation to a screeching halt.
"Hey, take it easy on my city table!" Lu Kim shouted from afar. "You crack it and that's a hundred dollar added to your bill!"
Craig, of course, paid him no heed, focusing all of his attention on the giggling gossipers who bashed his beau. The girls, stymied by this turn of events, could do little but sit there and stare at him.
"I've had just about enough of you shitting all over my boyfriend!" he cried. "You think it's fun hearing all those horrible things about the one I've fallen in love with? If he's a dumpster fire, then what does that make me?"
Most of the girls at the table blanched at his words, as guilt began to settle in their stomachs. The sole exception was Heidi, who was giving her friends a scolding glare of her own.
"Let me ask you all something. Was there ever a moment when you girls thought, 'Hey, you know, Craig might be taking this personally. Maybe we should just mind our own goddamn business and be happy that he's happy'? No, that doesn't occur to you, does it?"
"Craig, come on, we were just teasing," said Wendy, twiddling her fingers.
"Craig, come on, we were just teasing," he parroted back. "How would you like it if I called Stan a depressed alcoholic shitbag? What if I went off on a rant about the time he swindled me out of my birthday money and got me shipped off to Peru? You'd be pretty upset, wouldn't you?"
Wendy, unable to think of a response, just shrunk into her seat in shame. After staring her down for a few seconds, he turned back to the rest of the table and continued.
"You think you know everything there is to know about Tweek?" he asked. "He's really good at baking. Bet you didn't know that. And he plays the piano really well. He even writes and composes his own songs. Last week he wrote me something that was so beautiful I almost cried. But hey, what do I know, right? Let's all listen to Bebe instead. She sits next to him in social studies so obviously she's an expert on all things Tweek."
At this point, the entire restaurant had gone deadly silent, and Craig was attracting stares from several other patrons. Neither of those things mattered to him in the slightest.
"When we're alone, Tweek makes me smile. He makes me laugh. He makes me glad to be alive. And he doesn't shit talk other students behind their backs. Maybe you all could learn something from him."
With that, he scarfed down the rest of his food, put on his coat and laid down enough money to cover the cost of what he ordered, all while the rest of the table sat in stony, uncomfortable silence.
What he didn't realize, though, was that he had neglected to hang up after finishing his phone call with Tweek. As a result, every word of what transpired - both the catty remarks and the long, angry rebuttal - had reached his boyfriend's unsuspecting ears. By the end of the exchange, the neurotic blond's cheeks were thoroughly soaked with tears of joy.
"He loves me…"