South Park © Matt & Trey.

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We decide to watch some shitty made-for-TV movie. "Commercials play on people's insecurities," I say during the break as a stupid shampoo commercial comes on the screen.

"How?" Craig asks.

"White teeth, shiny hair, nice skin, toned body…" I trail off, shrugging. "They're things people desire and commercials tell us if we buy these products, we'll achieve those things… Kyle taught me that. Everyone is flawed. It's part of being human."

"Yeah," he murmurs. "I know… Everyone is seeking perfection. I doubt it exists."

"Well, maybe it does…" I consider. "It's just subjective. Everyone's idea of perfection is different."

"It's still probably impossible to achieve."

"Probably," I admit, pausing. "Hey, Craig?"

"What?"

"When's the last time you purposefully hurt yourself?" I ask.

"I don't know."

"Yes, you do," I insist.

"I don't want to talk about that."

"Why do you do it?"

"Because," he says simply.

I let out a soft breath. "I think if you hurt yourself on the outside and it eventually numbs you on the inside. You're already like a fucking zombie, dude."

"It's not true," he murmurs quietly. "It keeps you from going numb."

"But you still feel things, Craig."

"Do I?" he wonders.

"Yeah…" I insist. "I mean, love, for one thing."

His expression remains perfectly blank.

"I'm serious," I continue. "I mean… you were into Clyde, right? And before that, Tweek?"

"I wouldn't go so far as to say it was love. It wasn't love… It was attraction," he corrects.

"Okay, fine… but it was a feeling, nonetheless. You felt things. I saw."

"You saw?" he snorts.

"Yeah," I continue. "I saw how hard you had to try to swallow your emotions after Clyde rejected you . So, I'd say it was more than just physical attraction."

He rolls his eyes at me.

"I'm serious, dude."

He gives me a double-handed flip off, not wanting to hear me point these things out.

"Are you still into Clyde?" I ask.

"I don't know," he says.

"Oh."

"Why?"

"Just wondering," I shrug. "You into anyone else?"

"No."

"Really?"

"Maybe," he admits. "I don't know. Christ."

"Oh." I'm not sure why, but for some reason don't feel like sharing him. I guess that's pretty asshole-ish on my behalf, since I have no intention of ever really being with him… Probably. Shit, I don't know anymore.

"Why all the questions?" he peers at me.

I just shrug again. "Call me curious."

"Right…"

"I'm gonna go," I say, tossing the banana peeling at his face. He sets it on the table, giving me an irritated look before following me to my feet and to the front.

"Are you coming to school tomorrow?" I ask, opening the door.

"I don't know."

"Well," I start, giving him a peck on the lips. "I'll see you at school… if you decide to go."

"Yeah, bye…" he says softly, not closing the door until I'm at the end of his driveway.

As soon as I step into school, something feels off. I can tell something happened; I'm just not sure what. It's quiet, and everyone is whispering. "Dude," I say when I come by the first familiar face, "What happened."

"Well," Kyle deadpans, "Eric Cartman happened, that's what."

I feel myself grimace. "What did he do this time?" I ask expectantly.

Kyle lets out a sigh, handing me a photograph. "Kenny, he did exactly what you think he did."

"Fuck," I grit, taking the picture and looking at it. It's me and Craig standing on his doorstep. Kissing. "Crap…" I mumble. "And let me guess… these are all over the damn school?"

He nods. "They were taped to lockers."

"Fuckin' hell…"

"It's blurry…" Kyle attempts to reason.

"I'm sure Eric made sure everyone knew who it was," I say distastefully.

"If you wanted to, you could deny that it was you and Craig."

"I don't know," I shrug, ripping the picture up. "It's up to Craig… This doesn't really tarnish my reputation… or lack of reputation."

Kyle smiles sympathetically. "He went home. You should go find him."

"Yeah," I mumble before departing. I make my way through the hallways, trying to find Clyde or Token, but no such luck. Instead, I see Eric. I could totally smack him upside the head… but I won't. "Hey, fat-tits," I shout at him.

He turns around, and the most deviant grin spreads across his face. "Hey, Kinny."

"Why the hell did you do that?" I ask angrily.

"Because I was out for a walk and I saw you guys, blissfully unaware I was nearby. It was like you were begging me to do it. Plus, I don't like Craig," he says simply. "No one really does. I thought you were on the same boat until you started getting all friendly with him. It kinda makes sense why. I mean… you're just like that. You probably stick around because he lets you stick it to 'im like a slut."

"That's not true," I insist, but… maybe it is?

"Whatever you say," he sings, unconvinced.

"I'm serious!"

"Suuure," he says in that same tone.

"God," I shout, throwing my hands up in the air. "You're such a shitty person. You did this to Kyle, too."

"Kahl needed me," Eric says with certainty. "If it wasn't for me, he'd never get his faggy ass out of the closet. Besides, he got over it."

"You didn't do him a favour, and you didn't do Craig a favour, either. It's not for you to decide! You had no right!" I continue shouting, but Eric doesn't look like he cares at all.

"He'll thank me in a few years."

"No," I start, "I don't think he will." And he definitely won't be giving me any special treatment once he sees me. God dammit, this is all my fault. I had to open my big mouth to Kyle a few weeks back. If I didn't do that, then Eric wouldn't have had anything worth spying on.

Eric shrugs before sauntering off, looking proud of what he's done. Bastard.

I don't know what to do. For a few minutes, I pace the halls, but eventually I relent and I stomp to class. The teacher doesn't hesitate to scold me for being late. "You're late again, Mr. McCormick," she points out.

"Sorry," I mumble, flopping into a chair and tossing my bag on the floor. Should I really be here? I feel like I should go find Craig instead of wasting time in class. This is all my fault, after all. I should at least see if there will need to be any damage control. I grab my bag and sit up.

"Mr. McCormick, what is it this time?" the teacher asks with a sigh. "Where do you think you're going?"

"I… have to… do something…" I say, fighting for an excuse, but failing miserably.

"Oh, is that so?" she says, looking like she's being fed a giant turd.

"Yes. It's important."

"You're wasting everyone's time. Take your damn seat."

I continue to inch towards the door and the teacher looks constipated. "I said sit down," she snaps.

"It's real important, so sorry, I gotta run," I say in a less than sincere tone as I reach the door, swinging it open and making my escape.

When I arrive to the Tucker house I knock on the door. Craig's mom answers and I just give her my friendliest smile. This is the first time I've seen her in years. She's never really around. "Hello," she says.

"Hi," I greet, "is Craig around?"

"He came home sick," she tells me.

"I know," I nod. "I have a free period and I thought I'd come visit." A lie, but oh well.

She opens the door, allowing me inside. "Come in, he's lying down."

"Thank you." I smile once more as she leads me upstairs to her son's bedroom.

"Craig?" she says, opening his door. "Honey, your friend is here to see you."

He doesn't budge an inch. He's lying on his bed, looking thoroughly miserable as he stares up at the ceiling.

"Thanks, Mrs. Tucker," I say before sauntering inside. I wait until she's gone before I speak to Craig. "Hey," I say, closing the door. "Craig? You okay?"

"I'm lying here despondently," he states. "What do you think?"

"Right…" I mumble.

"What do you want?" he asks.

"I want to say sorry."

"Why are you sorry this time?" He sighs the question as if he's tired of my constant apologizing.

"This whole thing is all my fault."

"How so?"

"If I wasn't telling Kyle all about us, Eric wouldn't have overheard."

"It's mostly his fault, then. He could have kept his mouth shut," he decides, closing his eyes. He's quiet again, and so am I. I'm not sure what else there is for me to say. "I didn't want it to happen like that," he admits.

"I know…" I mumble. "Do you want me to leave you alone?"

He only nods. I guess all I can do is what he asks. I turn away and make it halfway down the stairs before pausing. I hesitate for a minute before deciding that I'm not going to leave. If I do, I'll just go home and wish I stayed. I walk back up the stairs and swing his door open. Craig is sitting against his headboard, staring at the wall in front of him.

"Craig?" He looks surprised and frantically wipes at his eyes. "Are you upset?" I ask quietly.

"No…" he insists. "I thought you left."

What a damn sad lie. "You're crying…" I carefully point out.

"Because I'm angry," he states somewhat tersely. "I'm going to shoot your fat friend."

"No, you're not."

"You're right," he tartly admits. "I doubt it would be possible to fatally wound him. He's too obese. All that fat is probably impenetrable."

"Yes," I chuckle, humouring him. "That's exactly it."

He lets out a breath, drying his cheeks with the sleeve of his shirt. I'm not really sure of what to do, so I sit down next to him and pull him into my chest.

"Let go," he demands, trying to push me away.

"Nope." He gives in after a minute, allowing himself to go limp in my hold. "There's no shame in crying. I do it all the time," I tell him.

"I'm not you," he whispers.

"If you want to cry, I won't tell anyone," I promise.

He's quiet for a moment until his shoulders begin to shake. He lets out a quiet sob, and I don't say a fucking word. I lean backwards, letting him to lie on top of me and press his face into the crook of my neck. I guess even Craig gets overwhelmed sometimes. I've never seen him like this… showing so much emotion. I kind of like it, bad as that sounds. I have a feeling moments like these are few and far between.

"For curiosity's sake… How did you want it to happen?" I ask once he's quiet again.

"I don't know," he sighs into my neck. "I thought it'd be easier…"

"It should be," I say, feeling the small of his back beneath his shirt, "but it never is… It's not your fault. It's everyone else that makes it difficult. It shouldn't be so fucking scandalous."

"I'll have to tell my mother," he murmurs. "She'll ask… She's probably downstairs trying to figure out how to get answers out of me. She'll pretend to care. She'll act like she's not so fucking far away all the time… I didn't think she'd be home… I thought she'd be at work." God, he sounds so damn bitter.

"Again… I'm really sorry Eric took that picture," I apologize yet again.

"It's not your fault he did that. Stop apologizing," he demands.

"He did this to Kyle."

"I remember."

"Eric has a bit of a passion for photography," I explain with distaste. "Unfortunately, candid shots are his favorite. He is a voyeur. He doesn't want his subjects to know they're being photographed."

"That's fucked up," Craig murmurs.

"Eric is fucked up," I say. "When we were ten years old he had a photo album full of photos of him doing weird shit to Butters while he was asleep. When we were sixteen, he filled another album up with photos of Kyle. We found it last year."

"Really?"

"I'm serious," I chuckle. "There were photos of him changing and shit. Kyle was so fucking angry he almost threw up. He works himself up a lot like that… but he got over it and they're friends again."

He raises his head and looks at me. His eyes are nose are red and his cheeks are flushed, but I don't mind. "Is there a point to these stories?" he asks.

"Yeah," I say with a slight smile. "The point is that Eric is an asshole and he does this kind of shit to everyone."

"Aren't you angry?" he wonders.

"I am," I admit, "but I don't care what people think of me. I think I'm just angry at him on your behalf." He doesn't say anything. For a moment, he just stares at me. "What is it?" I chuckle. "Do I have something on my face?"

"No…" he murmurs. "It's nothing.

"Okay," I shrug.

"Are you happy?" he asks.

"I'm happy," I start, "until I begin to think about what that truly means."

"Why do you say that?"

"Have you ever tried contemplating your own happiness?" I inquire. "It's tiring, so I just try not to do it."

His lips part, as if he's about to say something, but a knock on the door interrupts. "Yeah?" he calls out evenly.

The door swings open and Token and Clyde are hovering there, looking cautious.

Craig quickly moves away from me, getting off the bed. "Why aren't you in class?" he asks as they enter his room. He defensively crosses his arms, probably trying to mentally prepare himself for whatever they came here to tell him.

"We had a free," Token starts, eying me, "Unlike our pal Kenny."

"Ah, shut the fuck up," I say in good humour.

"Oh," Craig replies flatly. He looks like he's trying to act apathetic, but his eyes are still bloodshot.

Clyde gives Craig the most sympathetic look I've ever seen before pulling him into his chest. "God, I'm so fucking sorry," he says. "We should kill Eric Cartman."

Craig sighs audibly before uncrossing his arms and wrapping them around Clyde. "Don't bother."

I watch the exchange, unsure if I should stay or if I should silently slip out of the room and give them all a moment to themselves. Once they separate, Token gives him a hug as well. "We don't care if you like guys," he says. "Sorry for all the gay jokes over the years. You probably felt like you couldn't tell me."

"It's fine," Craig insists flatly.

"See?" I cut in. "Everything is going to be okay."

Clyde nods his head. "Besides, by the look of things, a lot of people are angry at Eric for being an asshole yet again. We're getting pretty sick of his shit."

"Yeah," Token adds. "You should've heard Bebe and Wendy tell him off. It was hilarious."

Clyde begins to regale Craig with the story and this is where I choose to leave. It's probably a good idea for them all to have some time with each other.

"Excuse me?" I hear once I reach the bottom of the stairs. I turn around and see Craig's mom standing a few feet away.

"What happened to my son?" she asks.

"What do you mean?" I tilt my head to the side, unsure of what she wants me to tell her.

"Craig isn't sick," she states. "He never gets sick… Something happened to my son."

"You're right in a way," I say, "but I'm not the person to ask… you should talk to him about it."

"He's a difficult boy to talk to."

"I know," I chuckle. "Trust me, I know. It takes a long time for him to let you in, but once you're there… it's worth it."

"You seem fond of him."

"I am," I smile. "I like him lots."

"Thank you for checking on him."

I nod my head before opening the door. "Bye, Mrs. Tucker," I say before leaving.

I decide to go back to school now that all of that business is taken care of. Hopefully the school day is going normally and those pictures aren't still being circulated.

By the time I get there, it's midday. I find Kyle in the lunch line. "Bebe and Wendy told Cartman off earlier," he laughs.

"I heard," I chuckle. "I wish I was there to see it."

"You should've been. It was fucking perfect, but unfortunately he wasn't really fazed by it," he says. "Where were you?"

"I went to see Craig."

"Is he okay?"

"I think so," I say, waiting for Kyle to order food.

"Do you want anything?" he cuts in.

"Nah, I'm good."

I walk with him to an empty table in the corner of the cafeteria before saying anything else. I'm not in the mood for any eavesdroppers to hear what I'm about to say. "He was a lot more emotive earlier–" I vaguely start, only to be cut off.

"Craig was?" Kyle interrupts, showing disbelief.

"Yeah. It gave me, like, the weirdest boner… and I know that sounds bad because he was so damn angry, but I'm serious. It might sound stupid and gay, but I feel like it meant something."

"That he showed emotion?"

"No, that he did it in front of me… It's like I'm finally getting to see the parts of Craig that other people don't get to see."

Kyle shrugs, "Maybe it did mean something. Maybe he trusts you enough to open up a bit."

"Christ," I sigh, "this is all too confusing."

"Think about it like this – Maybe Craig is just helping you realize what you truly want."

"It's not like that… I like girls, I like boobs…"

"Kenny," Kyle chuckles, "maybe you like both… It's very plausible."

"Hm," I consider.

"I mean, it's not the end of the world. Besides, even if you're gay, you're allowed to appreciate the female body. I can appreciate female beauty and physique, but it doesn't mean I'd want to date a girl."

I shake my head. "Whatever," I say, "I'm not going to think about this shit."

"Okay."

"It's just a phase," I insist, not quite sure who I'm trying so hard to convince – Kyle or myself.

"Okay," he repeats with a little smile.