Chapter Four

Cold Hands


I found myself not being very good with this whole phone call thing. Usually when I bribed a number I'd call the girl within a couple of hours and arrange to meetup. But Tweek was not a girl and I actually felt nervous. My palms were becoming all clammy and that never happened often. Was this how girls feel when they were waiting for me to call them?

I'd gotten no trouble from Cartman so far which was always good. He'd bought himself an incredibly expensive drone somehow and was probably preoccupied with flying it around the neighbourhood. I was glad not to be disturbed by him though, meeting Tweek now seemed less pressurising.

Speaking of which, tonight I got a text from the culprit himself finally asking me to meet up tomorrow after school. I waited ten minutes till I replied to tell him that would be great. (Had to keep it cool, Craig.) It was just as well that he text me when he did because me and Kyle had football practice for most of the day; we had a big game coming up in a few weeks just after the winter dance.

Kyle joined me in the locker rooms, panting manically and laughing as he caught me step out of the shower with a towel around my waist. "That was great" he grinned as he squeezed his bottle of water directly into his throat and I nod in agreement though probably not as enthusiastic.

"Best practice this month I bet" Kyle add and I continued to get dressed while checking my phone every now and then. "You waiting for your boyfriend to text?" I froze.

"Fuck, no" I grouched back at him and he laughed awkwardly before heading off to the showers. Did I look that eager? That wasn't cool, I needed to tone it down a bit.

I sighed and pulled on my hat as I left the locker rooms and head outside. It was the end of the day and everyone was diverting out of the building into the blanket of snow on the ground outside. I drove my dad's truck to school this morning since it does better on icy roads than the car and I unlocked it from a distance, my teeth chattering as I glanced around the parking lot.

To my bewilderment, Tweek was leaning against the back of my truck, clutching his bag for warmth; he shivered in the snow. What an idiot, but I was glad to see him; meeting up with him had been ticking round my mind all day for some reason. He was also carrying two cups of beverages and nearly threw them out of his hands when he saw me. The shuddering had dissipated and I watched him warmly as the corner of his lips blessed me with a grin.

"Craig" he beamed. I faintly returned the smile and gestured to the passenger's seat for him.

"You crazy bastard what are you doing stood in the snow?" I asked, climbing into the driver's seat myself.

"I was waiting for you, I'm guessing you had soccer all day because I didn't see you at lunch and stuff" he passed me one of the cups he was holding and gazed shyly into his lap. Fuck, I hated coffee. I took a small sip out of any politeness I had to realise it was hot chocolate and smiled inwardly to myself. What a... sweetheart?

"Am I dropping you back home Tweekers?" I asked him.

"T-Tweekers?" He stammered.

"Oh, ha, yeah remember I used to call you that a lot. Don't know, fell off my tongue. But I don't mind driving you home I'd rather you not freeze to death."

"Y-yeah you can but I was hoping we could um, hang out? I-if you're not busy that is."

"You got homework I need to do?" I laughed.

"No. But I have Infinite Warfare on PS4."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Well if it's not shitty Xbox I don't mind." He beamed again and so it was decided that we'd go to his house and play video games.

We drove while chatting about our day and listening to the rock station once again until I pulled up into his empty driveway. He lead me up to the door and turned the key to let us in. Instantly that sentimental aroma of childhood hit my nostrils. It smelled of bike tires, fresh cookies out of the oven and coffee. It smelled of lost happiness, of Tweek.

"You… Gonna come in?" Tweek questioned. I hadn't realised I was stood frozen in the doorway, the heat escaping. I closed the door and dawdled in the living room as I waited for Tweek to put his bag down and not surprisingly make himself a coffee before anything happened. My mouth was watering acutely for a cigarette but I suppressed the urge, knowing Tweek mightn't appreciate it at all. He probably thought I'd become such a loser.

My palms were sweating as I felt him saunter back into the room and organize his PS4 as he sipped on the coffee he'd made. This was so lame, this was so lame, this was so lame, this was-

"Idiot, sit down" Tweek interrupted my train of thought and I took a seat on the couch before I removed my hat only to spot Tweek's teeth sparkling at me barely a foot away. To my bewilderment, he reached up and ran his fingers through my hair. I froze once I felt the contact, my Adam's apple bobbed in my throat as I swallowed anxiously. Tweek usually wasn't so forward... It had been years since he touched my hair like that.

"Your hair is a lot longer since we last hung out" he noted airily. That was true. When I was working out and not wearing my hat I would have to tie my hair back in a small ponytail.

"Yours is still the same" my voice cracked a little and apparently he found that amusing so I nudged him playfully and we proceeded to play Infinite Warfare.

To my contradiction, just the two of us became more entertaining than going out. Tweek wasn't twitching or stuttering at all and there was no sight of annoyances such as Cartman and Kenny. I was genuinely enjoying myself though I kind of felt sick, a good kind of sick that made me feel like if I was going to throw up, I'd throw up poetry, endless stanzas of poetry.

However, the bliss of ease could not last forever and stress started to root its way in, pound against my brain and ring through my ears. Unlike Tweek, coffee couldn't quite quench the thirst for me and I instinctively reached into my pocket to trace the tobacco cylinder. Suddenly, Tweek's hand reached out away from his controller and he placed it on my pocket. He was gazing into my eyes as I gazed into his that screamed "no, you'll be okay" though he twitched ever so slightly. It saddened me so I pulled my hand out and and huffed.

"Asshole" I muttered and he laughed, his hand still rested on my thigh and I could feel my skin crawl beneath it. Tweek was meant to be the nervous wreck, not me. I was cool, cool, I was-

"Craig" Tweek closed his eyes and smiled as he squeezed my hand. Then as I noticed he was holding my hand, I didn't let go. "You seemed a bit nervous, this usually helps me." It seemed to help me too.

"You know" he began "yesterday I dug up an old photo album, there's a lot of photos of you in there, and us together."

"That sounds horrifying" I replied.

"Not at all! They're cute, a lot from before you had that famous growth spurt."

"God no."

Tweek giggled and switched the TV off after he let go of my hand. It felt colder. He rushed towards the side table and pulled out the infamous book from the draw. His small hands started to slip through the empty pages until photos began to appear and the blond's face lit up with wistfulness and glee.

"Here's at Stan's tenth birthday party... Haha look how posh your hairstyle was man." Tweek chortled.

"Shut up."

"I think Clyde took this one" Tweek pointed to a photo that was partially obscured by Clyde's finger but it was of me and Tweek holding hands, Token and Jimmy beside us smiling and posing while both of us were smiling at each other, oblivious to our surroundings. The memory hit me like a brick, how could I forget about that? Of course back then it was just holding hands… I thought nothing of it besides the innocence of linking fingers as we walk. But no wonder holding Tweek's hand made me feel so content, it was like holding a flashback of a moment, a moment lost in time and teenage misery.

Holding hands became a recurring theme so much so that the urge to hold his hand right now was quite prevalent but his hands were occupied turning the pages of the photo album which we continued to browse through, passing more pictures of us and old friends I didn't converse with anymore; all like childish scenes from a movie. We were all so stoked to grow up, to fall in love, to learn to drive, go to college and get drunk but it's never quite the fairy tale you imagine. I could tell most people at school were following that route perfectly but me and Tweek, we were stuck in this warp of time where nothing moved forward unless we were together, nothing made sense without Tweek. I lost my memories, I lost my friends, my talents and my ambitions were sucked dry but when I was around this shivering specimen of loud noises and cold hands, my muse, I was home and young, the pessimism fades from my composure.

"Remember when we made out in that tree house" Tweek snorted loudly upon a photo of Kenny and Token waving from up in the old tree house. Judging from the crooked angle and blur I could tell it was a photo Tweek had taken.

"Hey, I was having really intense thoughts there" I told him as I rubbed the back of my neck and frowned "and I don't remember that Tweek, you're lying."

"Dude I'm being serious, everyone has their first kiss in that tree house. Well, my first kiss was actually a girl in our class but ignore that right, we was totally gay in there"

"Gay? I think not" Tweek seemed a little taken aback from that statement.

"Okay we didn't make out, it was more like a peck then we ran off in separate directions."

"See, that sounds a little more historically accurate."

"Historical? It was only a few years ago, Craig, you know we're still kids really." Still kids, yeah.

Tweek closed the book and sighed intently. His lips curved in thought, his beautiful icy lips. "I have some old Terrance and Phillip DvDs, you wanna blast 'em?" He asked me and I nod in response "sorry it's so boring here though."

"It's perfect" I told him and his cheeks diluted into pink that he tried to conceal as he found the Terrance and Phillip DvD.

I was being honest, I couldn't think of anything better right now in this moment than getting to sit directly inside my happy years with Terrance and Phillip and of course Tweek, my beloved and missed best friend. Our hands found their way around each other once again and I gave his tepid knuckles a gentle squeeze.

Eventually I heard light snoring against my shoulder as well as dribble finding its way down Tweek's chin and onto my shirt. I couldn't help but find it funny as I assessed the situation and decided what to do. Carefully I tucked my arms under his legs and behind his neck, lifting him towards me and up off the couch. Though he was smaller than me, he was just as heavy and carrying him was not without struggle. The sight must've looked ridiculous.

I held onto him tightly and made my way up the staircase until I spied his bedroom at the end of the hallway and entered the mess itself. The delinquent had left many a tripping, slipping and sharp hazards strewn across the floor, clothes and books complete with overdue homework. It looked like homework wasn't the only thing I needed to help Tweek organize but at least his bed was clear of any obstacles so I laid him down and wrapped the blanket around him. Crazy, he hadn't stirred at all. In fact, it was shocking that he even fell asleep this early. Usually Tweek was tossing and turning for hours, but I guess miracles happen.

I leaned against his mattress and observed his chest rise and fall. There's a certain feeling that you just admire something so much that in your head, it's just too precious for this world of egotism and cruelty. Those feelings for this sight right now were inconsistent but still there. I wanted to embrace him and squeeze him and say "thank you" again and again. But why would I want that? I wanted to not want all that, I wanted to stop having these thoughts, I wanted to go home, I wanted a cigarette and a long sleep.

I rose to my feet and let free a sigh before I head for the front door and practically jogged to my truck, the cold was slicing into my pale skin during the journey. I pulled out a much deserved Marlboro and placed it between my lips. I inhaled deeply as soon as the end turned to ash under the lighter. Suppress, suppress, suppress. Let the feelings suppress.

I checked my phone for the first time tonight and noticed another intimidating text from Cartman lurking in my inbox.

Fat bastard: 60 bucks, aren't you doing great? Keep it up my fairy friend.

I was... the worst.