The week flies by and Craig doesn't take me up on the offer to help with his homework. Instead he scrapes by, like usual.
Kyle finds out on Thursday that his parents will be out of town and that he wants to throw a party. He gets to unwind almost as little as I do, so it's no surprise that he's jumping at the first opportunity. I'm just thankful it won't be me cleaning up this weekend—I don't think Kyle realizes how much work the after party is. Maybe I'll finally be able to enjoy myself, though.
I make a plan to finish all my work Friday night. As I sit down with the last of my math homework I contemplate calling Craig and asking if he wants to work together, before deciding that I'll get more done if I work alone. If needed help, he could have asked earlier.
I'm surprised he didn't take me up on my offer since he seemed pleased at the time, but I guess that's just the kind of guy he is. I can't really make sense of it.
I finish around 7PM and then decide to head out. Instead of taking my car, I walk. Kyle lives pretty close to me. Plus, I don't want to have to worry about my car if I end up having a drink or two.
When I'm approaching his street, I can hear music. It's loud, but I'm sure the party is just getting started. I let myself in when I reach his house and I'm immediately greeted with the scent of cigarette smoke and a mix of what may or may not be pot. Awesome. I hope Craig is staying far away from that shit, but knowing him… he's probably close to the source of it.
I wander into the kitchen and grab a beer before deciding to try and look for a familiar face. Bebe said she'd be here along with Nichole and Clyde and Jason. That means Craig probably tagged along, too.
Clyde is the first friend I run into, and Bebe isn't far behind. Clyde tends to keep his finger locked through her belt loop when they've both been drinking. I guess it keeps them from losing each other.
Honestly, I think it's just Clyde being possessive. Bebe cheated on him last year, but he seems to think he kind of deserved it. He had been texting back and forth non-stop with Heidi. I don't think Bebe even wanted to go with the other guy—some California transplant—but Clyde just wasn't getting the message. Either way, they're back together. They say they're both past it but I'm not so sure. They watch each other like hawks. I don't know why they couldn't just talk out their problems like real adults.
"What's up?" Clyde asks, looking like he's already feeling the effects of the alcohol. He and Bebe drink a lot, but unlike Craig, they can hold their alcohol and they don't get any stupider than they act in a regular day.
"Not much," I say. "I just got here. Have you seen Craig around?"
"He was with Jason," Bebe says. "They were smoking outside last time I saw them."
"All right," I murmur, wondering if I should even bother trying to find them.
"Token, dude, why are you so obsessed with Craig lately?" Clyde asks with a laugh. "Just let him be."
I know he's probably just kidding around, but the comment rubs me the wrong way. I think Clyde is a little too carefree sometimes and there are times he doesn't understand the severity of certain situations.
I roll my eyes at him. "I'm not obsessed, Clyde. I'm concerned. There's a difference."
"Sure." Clyde winks at me, thrusting his hips in my direction.
Ugh. Gross.
I back away, rolling my eyes. His lewd gestures are the last thing I need right now.
Clyde's been teasing me like this ever since I came out as bisexual last spring. I know he means no harm, but it gets annoying. If I would have known he was going to act like such a tool I would have just left him out of the loop.
I knew for a long time before I told anyone, just because I could date girls and that just seemed easier. Last year I started to feel like I was lying to people though, so I came out. I'm lucky my parents are as progressive as they are. Neither of them even batted an eyelash.
I'm glad for it.
I decide to step out onto the back balcony and do a scan. No sight of Craig – just some other kids. They're socializing, smoking and laughing and chatting away.
I head back inside.
I might seem obsessive, but I'm not. I just feel like I'm the only damn person who sees that he's clearly in pain. I don't want him to go off the deep end and hurt himself. I don't want him to do something stupid with the wrong person and end up getting himself into trouble – or killed, even. Knowing Craig, it's a very real possibility.
After downing my first beer, I grab another.
I haven't let loose in a while. So, I'm going to reward myself tonight for dealing with so much shit lately. I've been working hard – in school and in every other part of my life. I deserve a night's break.
Plus, I'm a good drunk. I know how to pace myself. I never overdo it. I never get hung over. I've never been hung over in my life and I'm not about to start.
I decide to go outside—away from all the noise—to finish my beer. I open the front door and plop down on the steps.
I take a look around the neighborhood. Kyle lives in a nice part of town. His parents make good money.
The lights in his neighbors' houses are mostly off. I guess they're all either in bed or out at the bar. Even the adults have a hard time finding something to do in South Park.
Everyone at the party parked their cars out front, and I'm thankful I decided to walk. On the off chance the cops show, I'll I need to do is get up and head home.
There's a Mustang with its lights still on parked on the corner. I can tell it's Jason's dad's car because he's the only one in town who would drive a flashy thing like that. He's a mechanic and fixes up old junkers, then keeps or sells them. He must have let Jason borrow it for the night.
I stand up and start walking over to say hello. Jason must have just arrived and I could use a sober person to talk to.
I move down the driveway and stop in my tracks when I see that he isn't alone. He's with someone in the front seat and they seem to be making out quite aggressively. Ugh.
I feel my stomach churn unpleasantly when they pull apart and I see that it's Craig. He has his arms wrapped around Jason's neck and they're pressed so closely together.
What the fuck?
I fucking KNEW Craig was gay!
But Jason? What in God's name are Craig and Jason doing together? Have they done this before or is this a one-time thing? I'm full of questions that will probably never get answered.
I stare for a minute, unable to look away as they reconnect. What a hot mess. They're slobbering all over each other. It's like watching a train wreck or a car crash.
I force myself to turn away quietly and try to forget what I just saw. I head back inside, feeling like I'm in a bit of a daze over my recent discovery.
Inside, I spot Kyle and he seems to notice.
"Dude, what's up?" he asks me, tugging on my sleeve.
"Oh, hey, man," I greet. "Not much. How're you enjoying your party?"
"It's cool," he says. "Though I'm sure the clean-up is gonna suck."
"Yeah, that's always the worst part," I agree with a chuckle.
"Do you get help or do you always do it alone?" he asks me.
I shrug. "Sometimes Nichole helps. Usually whoever does a little something in the morning, depending on how much of an asshole they are."
Kyle smiles at that. "So I guess I should try to get people to stay over, huh?"
"That's one way to swing it," I laugh.
The rest of the night goes off without a hitch and surprisingly, I actually have a good time. Nichole eventually shows up and we dance together. Clyde whoops and hollers when we do but I know that she and I are just friends. Things are better that way.
I don't see Craig ever even come inside the house. I guess he and Jason must have gone home together. I never saw that one coming.
I walk home by myself around 2 a.m. The sidewalks are icy so it talks me a little longer than usual even though I'm long sober. By the time I get to my front door I'm fucking freezing. I quietly unlock the door and rush up to my bedroom. My parents knew I was going out, so I have nothing to hide, but I really just want to be in bed.
I head up, taking off my jeans and sweater so I'm left in shorts and a t-shirt. I slip a pair of sweatpants on and then head into my bathroom. I stare at myself in the mirror as I brush my teeth. I've never been critical of my appearance. Quite the opposite, I'm a pretty confident guy. I'm tall and fit from years of sports. I like sports. I feel like football is an outlet. I'm a pretty calm person, but I do need to let out a little steam every once in a while.
After brushing my teeth I wash my face and then I kill the lights, returning to my bedroom. It's dim, with only the light from the moon filtering in through a crack in the blinds.
As soon as I crawl into bed I hear the doorbell ring.
"What the fuck?" I murmur aloud to myself.
Then it happens again and again and again.
I jump out of bed and tear down the stairs, ripping the door open. When I'm about to scream at the person on the other side, I stop because it's Craig and he looks like he's seconds away from losing his damn mind.
"Dude, what the fuck?" I say quietly, trying not to wake my parents.
"Can I come in?" he asks shakily.
I back up, opening the door and closing it slowly behind him.
"What the fuck is going on?"
"Nothing. Can I sleep here tonight?" Craig slips off his shoes and turns around to me, staring down at the floor.
"Nothing?" I hiss, "You can't just fucking show up here at 3 in the fucking morning and tell me nothing is going on!"
Craig gives me a wary look, but says nothing.
"Is this about Jason?" I ask suddenly. It probably fucking is.
"What?" Craig chokes out. He forces a surprised face, but just ends up looking like a damn idiot because he's obviously about to burst into tears. "N-no!" he stutters loudly. "Why would you even ASK that?" His breath starts coming in heavy, like he's choking. I think he just feels trapped. "Oh, God…"
"Dude, calm down," I say pleadingly. I grab him by the shoulders and steer him into the living room. I hope Jason didn't pull any stupid stunts. He's an asshole, but I can't see him doing anything THAT bad.
When we're in the living room, I sit him on the sofa. I think he's still a bit drunk, too, because he sure smells like it.
"Want to tell me what's going on?" I ask.
And this is when he loses it. He keels over and lets out a long, loud keening sound before starting to cry openly. "Oh, God…" he moans between sobs.
For a moment, I simply stare at him entirely unsure of what to say or do. With a sigh, I sit down next to him and put a hand on his shoulder. Immediately, he lays his head on my lap and continues crying. I let him, putting a hand on his head and wishing I knew what was going on in it. Man, he stresses me out. I mindlessly play with his feathery hair, waiting for him to calm down so he's coherent enough to tell me what the fuck happened.
He brings a hand over his face haphazardly, letting out miserable sounds into his palm. It sounds like he's grieving. I've never seen him cry like this before and it's unnerving.
I want to know what happened. I briefly consider calling Jason before realize that it's probably a horrible idea to get him involved. On the off-chance that it has nothing to do with him, I don't think Craig could handle another pair of eyes watching him.
"Let's go up to my room," I say instead. My parents sleep on the ground level and I don't want to wake them up, but I also don't want to send Craig home. Not like this.
He doesn't respond.
"Craig, I know you're upset, and I want you to stay here. We just need to go upstairs or my parents are going to come out and wonder what's going on." I tell him again.
He quiets momentarily and lifts his head out of my lap, looking absolutely miserable.
I offer him my hand, which he reluctantly accepts, and then we head upstairs. He's no longer a sobbing mess, but he's still sniffling. Every minute or so he brings a hand up to swipe at his eyes.
I fetch him a glass of water from the kitchen and then we head to my bedroom for the night.
Once inside, I shut the door. Craig sits on my bed and stares at the ground, looking defeated and altogether hopeless.
"Want to change?" I ask him. "You can borrow some of my clothes. They'll be big on you, but it'll be more comfortable than sleeping in your jeans."
"Trynna get me naked?" he asks in a mumble and I can't tell if he's joking or not.
"Here," I say, tossing him some of my sweatpants. They're old, so they might fit him better.
He strips down to his boxers and pulls the sweats over his legs. Honestly he looks a little ridiculous. They're way too big and short on someone shaped like him. Whatever, at least we're not going anywhere.
I pull back the sheets to crawl into bed and Craig follows quickly behind.
He rolls toward me, wrapping himself in the blanket and stopping a few inches from my face, giving me a dead-pan stare.
"Craig," I say tentatively, "Do you want to talk about what happened tonight?"
He blinks, then rolls away onto his back. "How did you know about Jason?" he asks.
"I saw you two making out in his car," I confess, "I thought he had just pulled up and I wanted to go talk to him. I didn't want to bother you two though—I thought it would freak you out."
"That was nice of you," he grumbles.
"So, what happened with all that?" I ask. "Did you leave with him?"
"Yes," Craig admits tersely, sounding like this is the last thing in the world he wants to be talking about. He sniffles a bit more, sounding like he's seconds away from crying all over again.
"And is this what you're upset over?" I pry.
"Yes," he repeats himself in a high-pitched voice, which sounds so weird to my ears since his voice is so deep.
"So, what happened?" I ask yet again, starting to get tired of this. I feel bad for saying it because clearly he's in pain, but I don't know what the hell I'm supposed to do about it.
His breath starts coming in heavy again and I really don't understand what he's so upset over.
"Craig, I can't understand unless you tell me," I point out as gently as I can. "Did Jason do something to you? Do you regret what you did? Come on, talk to me… I want to understand."
"I don't know." He shudders, sitting up. "We started going to his house and when we pulled up he told me that he should actually take me home."
I pause, waiting for him to finish, but he doesn't.
"Craig, that could be for a million reasons," I say quietly. "He could have realized his parents were home. He could have thought of something he has to do early tomorrow. He could have just changed his mind, Craig. He's allowed to change his mind."
"I feel like it's something I did!" he insists. "He made me feel like I fucked up!"
"Did he say anything like that?"
Craig shrugs. "No, not at first. But when I told him I didn't want to go home he got really pissed off."
Of course he did, fuck. Jason has absolutely zero bullshit tolerance. There's no way that he would have given in the way I did last weekend.
"You know how he is," I say. "He's a pretty stern guy."
"So are you," Craig mumbles.
I want to roll my eyes at that because clearly I haven't been stern with him at all, especially lately.
"That's beside the point," I continue. "Look, you've known Jason forever. You have a pretty good idea about what kind of guy he is. He probably didn't mean anything by it. He probably just had some shit to get done."
"Well, he's an asshole," Craig says insistently.
"Why? Because he didn't want to sleep with you?"
Craig huffs, acting like he's twelve years old. "That's NOT what I mean!"
"Was this your first time doing something like that?"
"Obviously not," he bites out.
"So, you've done it with him before?"
"Yes!" he seethes, sounding like he just doesn't want to admit to it. "He never pushed me away like that before! I don't know WHY he did it!"
"Ask him," I say simply. "Instead of getting all upset, you should have just asked him."
"Token, I couldn't even think straight!" he argues.
"Well, do you like him?" I wonder. Maybe that's why he's taking it so personally.
"No," he admits.
I raise an eyebrow at that. "Then why do you sleep with him?"
"Because I'm a big whore," he says bitterly.
"Craig, don't say shit like that," I tell him wearily.
"Why not?" he snaps. "You've said it."
"No, I haven't," I growl, getting angry. "Get your head out of your ass, Craig. I've never said something like that to you."
"Well, you hinted at it!" he insists firmly. "You're always asking me why I'm flinging myself at everyone!"
I raise a hand and start rubbing my forehead. He's starting to give me a headache. "I ask you that because I want you to make good decisions, not because I actually care who you sleep with."
"Oh so you don't care?" he asks, rolling away from me.
I want to scream.
"Craig you know that's not what I meant! I literally just told you that I want you to make good choices! Of course I care about you. I just don't care who you fuck!" I explain hostilely.
"I'm not gay," he tells me suddenly.
"No, of course not." I roll my eyes.
"Jason is just easy," he insists.
"Really? Because he doesn't seem so easy right now, and you seem pretty upset about that."
Craig stops responding and I want to kick him out of my fucking bed.
I want to ask Craig what the real story is between him and Jason and how the hell they even happened in the first place, but I'm not going to get any answers tonight. That's for damn sure.
"Just go to bed," I say wearily. "We'll talk more in the morning."
Again, he doesn't respond. I feel him shake a bit. I don't know if he's just angry or if he's crying again, but honestly, I don't have time for it right now. I'm so tired I can hardly keep my eyes open and it's putting me in a bad mood. I don't want to talk to him like this. It won't end ell.
So, I close my eyes and try not to think about Craig, which is pretty damn hard because he's lying right next to me.
I can't believe I was ever fucking into him in the past.
What a shit-show that would have been.
