My parents should be home by now, but I called my mom earlier letting her know I'd be walking home. I wanted to see more of the neighborhood for myself. Autumn was my favorite season, the constant chilly breeze that blew gently through my face calmed me. Other than cigarettes of course. Sweaters were cozy too.

Thinking of all these nice things, I chuckled to myself because my face was in it's normal resting state. A monotone, dead-pan face that tended to prevent anyone talking to me, resulting in a handful of friends. I'm really not a bad person people think of me as. Sure I can be a cynical asshole at times, and yes, I can be completely oblivious of people's feelings. Sometimes it get's lonely, but I prefer to be alone.

I entered my house, (also having the sheer pleasure of looking at that fucking hideous door I come home to everyday). My mom was setting up family picture framed in the living room. The television was set to Keeping Up With the Kardashians, one of the worst reality shows on air, maybe second to Jersey Shore.

"Hi honey, how was school?" She adjusted the frame on the wall.

I peered at the pictures of Ruby and I as a baby. Little Craig was playing with a sock monkey and on my head was my blue cholo hat. "It was okay. Oh god mom, don't put that picture up. Why would you even frame it?" The other picture was Ruby playing with my guinea pig Stripe as I cried. No one was ever allowed to touch Stripe.

"What? It's cute, look at your fat cheeks." She cooed. "Why'd you have to grow up and become a beanpole?"

"Thanks. Where's dad?"

"He's at his new job. He's going to be staying late getting some paper work done."

"Oh okay, then is it fine if I go with I hang out with some people I met?"

Her face beamed. "You made friends? Aw honey good for you!" Her hands clapped in excitement. "Yeah! Where you going?"

"We're just going to get some pizza, I guess."

Ruby walked in the room eating cereal. "No he's not, he's off to do drugs with his juvenile hoodlum friends as they vandalise property."

"Ruby go in the kitchen and eat that!" Mom shooed her off. "I don't want you spilling milk all over my new couches, the car was enough."

I ran upstairs to my room to quickly change my shirt. Shuffling through my scarce closet, I found a gray striped sweater. Weeks before, I placed a pin on the sweater that said 'English, motherfucker, do you speak it?' I'm not going to take it off.

I trotted past my mom to the front door. "I'll be back later."

"By night okay?"

Closing the hideous door that I plan to burn down soon, I pulled out a packet of cigarettes. Before I could light it, my neighbor's front door slammed shut. It was Tweek walking out of his house, adjusting a brown messenger boy hat on his messy hair.

My lighter stayed lit, but I cringed and instantly dropped the lighter once I felt the growing heat spread through my thumb. Tweek glanced my way but returned to shuffle through his bag, looking for something.

I fumbled grabbing the lighter from the floor, as simple as this task was, my fingers kept slipping. Finally I caught a hold of it. Tweek kept looking at me, but turned to walk the other way.

"Shit..." Angrily, I flung the lighter at the tree.

About two hours later I grabbed a coffee in a super old coffee shop, probably dating back to the 1930's. Old people sat there and read the newspaper, but because of the unintentional vintage interior, a lot of hipsters hung out in the shop, attached to their laptops. And no, I did not see any goth kids.

David texted me earlier that he was going to pick me up. So I waited out by the shops front entrance. A man sat on the outside tables playing his harmonica. Well, he attempted. Every couple of seconds he stopped, trying to get the note right.

A white van lurked toward the coffee shop. It halted right in front of me.

'This is it. I'm going to die. Oh my god.'

I heard the front door slam. I turned to run but heard someone call my name.

"Craig! Let's go!"

I turned back. David was standing by the white van waving me over.

"Oh my fucking god." I panted, clutching my hair in relief. "What the fuck man." I paced back to the van.

David ran up to me. "Hey man, you okay? What's wrong?"

I punched his arm. "You- what seventeen year old, drives a white van?! Do you realize you drive the pedo-mobile?!"

"My dad's friend gave it to me for my birthday." He rubbed his arm. "It's better than no car!"

"That car scares the shit out of anyone you pass by."

David laughed. "Alright, get in the back. We're going to my basement to murder you."

"Not cool man." I shook my head.

Joseph rode shotgun while Nick sat in the back, using a crate as a seat. I can only imagine Nick begging his way to ride shotgun with David.

"Why did you run?" Joe laughed. "Didn't you see us?"

"No! Jesus I would've rather ran than look to see who it was. I like my life, thank you very much."

Nick laughed. "David, I keep telling you to paint this van into the Mystery Machine."

"I'm not going to drive around the city in a Scooby Doo van. I'm thinking of painting it green anyway."

"That's a gay ass color." Nick scoffed. David's eyes darted at Nick through the mirror. "Paint it dark blue or something, you know?" He started singing. "We're running with the shadows of the night, so baby take my hand it'll be alright, surrender what it means-"

"Shut up."

"So where are we going?" I asked.

"This place called Franco's. There's usually no one there at this time, so it'll be chill." Joe said.

Several blocks away from the little coffee shop, we pulled up by Franco's. The exterior was just as vintage looking as the little coffee shop. It seems like this neighborhood hasn't built new buildings since the 30's. Nothing was rotting or deteriorating though so it had a nice vibe to it. The word Franco's was painted in white on the brick walls of the place. Inside we we're greeted by an old Italian man.

"Ahh more kids." The old man flung his arms in frustration. "I keep telling you kids to stop coming in my shop if all you're gonna do is loiter." He wore a white dress shirt. His big glasses sat on his big nose and there wasn't a bald spot of his white hair.

"Don't worry Al, we'll buy something." Joe pondered at the menu on the wall behind old man Al. "What do you guys want?" He turned to us.

Nick called out to Joe while sitting down at the table in the back. "Cheese fries!"

"Just get me a slice of pizza." David said. "You?"

I waved my hand. "No thanks, I'm not hungry."

"Come on, it's on me." David persisted.

"Just a hot dog then." I shrugged. "Thanks."

Al punched in our order and announced the total cost. He then called out to the kitchen in the back. "Rose! You got an order, okay? And where's that boy?"

A voice retorted from the kitchen. "He's cleaning up the mess of pasta he dropped."

Al pinched the bridge of his nose. "I don't know why I hired that boy in the first place."

Eventually our order of food came. The quaint little restaurant was nice. There was hardly anyone here except for the couple in the back. They also sold gelato here. While we all ate the couple approached the gelato case.

"Tweek come on, you got some customers! You can't keep 'em waitin' all day." Al called.

My eyes widened as my face shot in the direction of the gelato stand. Tweek barreled out of the kitchen and stumbled behind the stand. He was a stuttering mess that I couldn't help but find was quite adorable.

"H-hi what would you like?" And to top it off, he wore a brown messenger boy hat.

The man studied the gelato flavors and ordered an espresso flavored one. Tweek's eyes darted back and forth like what the man just ordered was the world's most impossible task. "Okay." He squeaked.

David gave me a weird look. "What's up?"

"Tweek works here?" I asked.

Joe nodded.

Nick laughed. "It's so funny though, eighty percent of the time he messes up watch, watch."

The cup fell from Tweek's hands as he placed the second scoop of gelato. "Augh! No-ack!" He twitched uncontrollably. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Nick busted out laughing. I wanted to punch his stupid smile. The couple that ordered the dessert insisted it was okay and they'd come back another time. They exited the door.

"Damn it Tweek, that's the second time this week!" Al lividly said.

Tweek hid his face in his folded arms on the gelato metal counter.

When we were done eating and joking around, David headed back to his place. I never even paid attention to the conversations we had because no matter how hard I tried my eyes kept reverting back to Tweek. He even noticed me but didn't really show any reaction towards me. David offered me a ride home but I told him I'd rather walk back home, with my excuse being that I enjoy this weather.

In reality I waited outside the restaurant until it closed, which was about an hour after they left. During that hour I put on my headphones and listened to music. Idly, I nodded my head to the music, looking straight ahead at the street.

"Fleetwood Mac?"

I dimly heard the tiny voice through my headphones. My eyes darted to the side to find Tweek looking at me. His eyes wide with owlish curiosity.

I stammered taking off m headphones. "W-what?"

He pointed at my headphones. "The song, it's by Fleetwood Mac."

"Oh, uh, yeah it-it is."

"I love Fleetwood Mac." He softly grinned, then sang quietly. "Loving you, isn't the right thing to do, how can I-" He continued to hum.

To be honest, I couldn't react at all. I was completely struck with awe he was talking to me. But I finally managed my name. "I'm Craig."

"Tweek." He nodded. His eyes narrowed at my pin on my sweater and gasped. "Where did you get that?"

I was a bit taken back. "What?"

"You're -ack- pin! I love the movie Pulp Fiction!"

"What?"

His fingers formed a gun, his voice lowered. "Say what again, I dare you, I double dare you." He then chuckled.

I just stared at him in complete affixed emotions. He grabbed his bike and waved good-bye to me, riding away.

"Holy shit."