A month had passed and I could say most of my accomplishments consisted of either talking to Tweek for more than 30 minutes without him panicking and drifting away from me, or staring at him while he would ponder at which movie he should rent. I've learned a few things about Tweek, one of them is he absolutely hates romantic comedies and his weakness is macadamia nut cookies. We walk home sometimes together (yes, I enjoy every minute of it) and I also learned he has a dreaded fear of crossing busy streets. He would step into the street once and retreat back to the sidewalk in half a second, screaming. The people driving would stare and I would have to pull his arm and guide him across the street. I think he's more comfortable around me since he comes up to me for advice on his art work.

I love the way his eyes flicker up at me like a child, which at the same time shoots an overwhelming feeling in me. The way he rants about his favorite movie when I mention something that reminds him. The way he punches me and gets angry at me for taking a crappy picture with his camera. That one time he was hypnotized by Jelly Beans, not by tasting them but how colorful they were and remarked that it was 'miracles'. When I promised him I would take a good picture and if not, I'd buy him Subway cookies. He brings out the ugly gushy lovey feeling in me which I don't do for most people.

Thursday was like any other day except when I spotted Joe and Nick squeezing through the crowd of lingering teenagers. They confronted me and straight up asked, "Alright Craig, what the hell is wrong with you?"

My eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "What are you talking about?" I closed my locker.

"We're talking about how you been spacing out all the time and smiling in the middle of Physics class." Joe said.

"What's wrong with smiling?"

"No one smiles in Physics, or in Literature, or in the middle of the hallway, unless you're talking to someone, but you don't really ever."

"Are you getting high behind the gym with the goth kids?" Nick asked.

"What? No! Look, nothing is wrong with me."

And then, Tweek passed by me trying to keep together a pile of unorganized papers in his arms. He reminded me of the rabbit in Alice in Wonderland who was always worried about being late. I imagined him with bunny ears and a vest, which was...quite adorable.

"There it is again!" Nick pointed at my face. I spaced out and the little smile on my mouth grew again.

Joe smirked. "Are you sure it doesn't have to do with a certain someone?" His eyes darted towards Tweek picking up his papers on the ground by the water fountain.

My eyes grew wide. "Why say that?"

"I'm not blind, I work with you in the video store, Mr. Stalker."

"Ooh." Nick mischievously smiled and repeatedly poked my arm. "What's going on, huh?"

Joe rolled his eyes. "You'd know if you would show up to work once in a while."

I shook my head. "I gotta go to class."

I knew it wasn't going to be long before they knew. I was hoping it wasn't going be as quick as in two months though. During lunch, Joe and Nick constantly caught my involuntary glance towards Tweek and stifled their laughter. David got annoyed, probably feeling left out.

"You're so pathetic, Craig!" Joe laughed. "Now get up and ask Tweek to sit with us!" He commanded. I flipped him off.

"Fuck you, and besides he's an introvert. He's not going to want to sit and talk to you guys."

"Then ask him out after school!" Nick insisted, which caused me to choke on the water I was drinking.

After a series of spurted coughs, I wiped my mouth and said "No way, he's never going to talk to me again." I shook my head at the thought. "I'm going outside." And got up towards the cafeteria doors.

Nick called me. "Only seniors are allowed to go out." But I simply flipped him off.

There was no cameras by the gym doors that lead outside to the teacher's parking lot. I walked across the parking lot and jumped over the small metal gate. During study hall, I don't do much other than read Ernest Hemingway. I got acquainted with potato girl and our conversation lead to her knowledge of hacking into the school's attendance system. She said her inspiration was Ferris Buller's Day Off.

I texted her. 'wanna do me a solid?'

I lit a cigarette, a few minutes later my phone rang. 'depends.' she replied.

'mark me present at the end of the day.'

'I can do that for u, but what are you gonna do for me?'

'i got a box of wheat thins and strawberry pop-tarts'

'i was thinking of something else ;)'

I rolled my eyes. 'im gay'

'pop tarts and wheat thins it is'

I proceeded to skip school and roam around the empty streets. Franco's restaurant was on the other end of the street. I shrugged "Why not?"

When I entered the door to the restaurant, Al was sitting on one of the tables, playing with something in his hand. He turned his head towards me and slide this big glasses upwards.

"How you doing, Craig?" Al went back to poking the object in his hand. There was no one in the restaurant other than one man drinking coffee against the wall of old family memorabilia.

"Fine." I footed towards his table and sat down.

He narrowed his eyes on me, giving me a suspicious look. "Shouldn't you be in school now?"

"Tomorrow's Halloween, they consider it a holiday." I shrugged.

His fingers jabbed the iPhone in his hand violently. "This damn thing. My son told me to buy one of these phones, that it be easier to communicate with him. Damn touch screen and your Rhianna bullshit. They would've stopped making phones after Nokia." He shook his head, chuckling. "And I ain't stupid, I used to skip school all the time when I was your age."

I smirked. "What are you trying to do?" Al handed me the phone, and I saw he was trying to text, but with every word, auto correct completely changed what the intended word was. "Try this Siri app, you just say what you want it to text and it'll type it out by itself."

Al frowned. "Then why can't I just talk on the phone?!"

"The wonders of Apple corporations." I consider Al like the grandpa I never had. He has this natural vibe that can make anyone be comfortable with him. The Italian persuasion. My grandpa's dead, but when we would visit him he'd call me Carlos, and he didn't have Alzheimer's. He set the phone down and rubbed his eyes in frustration, then looked at me. "So what's up with you and my gelato boy, Tweek?"

I rolled my eyes and let out a huge sigh, sinking in my chair. "Is it THAT obvious?! Did the whole city get a notification for my admiration of him?"

"No one told me though." He remarked, pointing to his eyes. "I can see all. When you're married for 35 years, you sense love in the air." He smiled.

"Woah, wait-no. it's not love." I stammered.

He laughed. "Good, because when you love them, they drive you crazy because they know they can. Go easy on him okay? He's not used to having a friend so quickly, let alone an admirer."

I nodded. "I can tell, he builds this wall between us so quickly sometimes." The thought of the little things Tweek does comes into my mind and I smile. "But he's something different." I got up from the table. "See you later Al-ligator."

"Grab a slice of pizza if you want, it's on me."

"Alright, thanks." There were hot slices of pizza sitting on the counter, I folded one and ate it on the walk to my house. The empty streets of working families gave a tranquil yet eerie atmosphere.

I didn't go inside my house, instead I sat on the wooden fence of Tweek's house, waiting. For what?

Not too many things. One in particular I think.

My eyelids slowly sink and my mind only listens to the music flowing through the headphones..

And if I were to ask him out? Then what...? Ugh, just the thought sounds so juvenile and childish, but I know he would never speak to me again. And that's the last thing I want. Why is it that he's the only one that can bring out the gushy disgusting lovey dovey side of me? I mean, when he grabbed a hold of my arm because he wanted my help crossing the street, my stomach felt as if it turned upside down and jumped around- THE GUSHY DISGUSTING LOVEY DOVEY FEELING. At the same time, I want this feeling to go on. The last time I felt like this I think was when I got my guinea pig Stripe, not that I'm comparing a guinea pig to Tweek. What am I saying.

Fifteen minutes had passed with my back leaning against Tweek's wooden fence.

"AAAAHHH!"

My whole body jolted in such a surprise that I almost fell straight on the ground. I blinked rapidly, trying to regain the conscious of reality. "WHAT?! Wha-?!"

There I saw Tweek standing in front of me, clutching desperately at his book bag. He trembled with his ginormous flickering eyes staring at me. "What are you -ack- doing?! Why are you leaning on my porch?! A-and why weren't you at school, Craig!?"

I sighed and pulled off my headphones, happy to see him. "Hello Tweek, you scared me."

"Scared you? I should be the scared one, you weren't there to cross the street with me! I could've died!" He made a sign with his two fingers indicating how close he was to dying. "I was this close to getting my organs splattered all over the street."

"I'm sure no car almost ran you over." I grabbed his shoulders, assuring him of his existence. "You're okay, and I won't leave you again."

He crossed his arms. "Promise."

I rolled my eyes and held my pinky. He looked at my gesture and smirked, but nonetheless intertwined pinkies. When he let go, he looked down and asked, "Why weren't you in school?"

I didn't think he would notice, we had no classes together and I hardly saw him other than lunch. Then I realized the excuse I could tell him will be the most stupid excuse, since he freaked out already about almost dying.

"I'm sure you've had those days where the last thing you want is to be around people, so you skip school?"

"Almost everyday, -ngh- but that doesn't mean I skip school...does that mean you don't want to talk to me?" He mumbled.

I shrugged. "You're an exception. You are definitely someone I would rather talk to than be alone." I nodded my head. Oh god, but I hope that wasn't too much of a hint or move. Shit.

The little squeaks and trembles sputtered out of him. "I need advice on a painting. It's in my room, I'm almost done but I need you to see it."

I nodded. "Yeah, of course."

He grabbed my arm and led me inside his house. "My parents are staying late in the coffee shop."

I instantly thought of those bad movies when that one girl says 'My parents are out of town.' Eventually they have sex, but I have no idea why I'm thinking about that because it is in no way relevant to advice on art work. I wonder why Tweek won't work at his parents coffee shop, maybe because he wouldn't get paid. And why did he say that? Does he not want me to meet his parents? Alright, now I'm over thinking it.

He opened the front door and said to take off my shoes. The kitchen was in the other room, but when I stepped in, the whole house smelled like brewing coffee. It was delicious and hospitable, like entering Harbucks.

"Your house smells like Harbucks." There were several coffee machines scattered around the kitchen, some I suppose brew different types of coffee.

He scoffed. "Don't say that to my parents, they'll kick you out. That's why they'll be out of town in Denver tomorrow, to prevent our shop from being taken over by Harbucks. Like they fucking need anymore corners to put their shit corporate coffee."

"Well, I hope all the best for your parents winning their case." My phone rang in my pocket, my mom had messaged me 'Were r u?'

I sighed. 'It's 'where' mom. You've gone to school and learned your grammar already. I'm right next door with my friend, Tweek.'

'keep it up smart ass and il take away ur fone.' She texted back. 'Fone', really?

Tweek walked towards the staircase and gestured up. "My room's upstairs." I followed him. The house's walls were painted pale green, but his room was a dark sunset red shade. His room matched his personality, a basket case. Quickly scanning the room, I saw stuffed elephants, spoons from different states, Beatles and classical movie memorabilia, hung paintings, an empty bag of Subway cookies, and most importantly, blurry photographs of unrecognizable people on his wall. In the top corner of the photograph collection, there was the picture of me walking to school, it was not blurry.

He kicked the clothes from the floor to the side. "It's a mess, I know. There's no point in cleaning it, I get nervous, have a panic attack and mess everything up again."

"It's alright." But I had the boiling urge to gather all his clothes on the floor and throw it in the laundry. I have this thing with doing people's laundry, especially if I like them. I am a certified creep, I shouldn't even be in his room right now. "Where is your painting though?"

There was a closet by his bed and opened it. Tweek shuffled through his clothes to the back of the closet. "In here!" There was the sound of a door creaking open. My eyebrows furrowed, so I pushed the clothes aside and there was a small door that lead to a very small empty room. The lonely easel stood in the middle of the butcher paper covered room.

A variety of paint was violently splattered on the ceiling and all around the room, mostly red or black.

"Three people."

I turned to him. "What?"

"Only -ngh- three people have seen this room." He pointed to the painting. "There it is..."

Amazing what can be done on canvas by a human's steady hand. It was surreal, the majority of the space was painted black and what was recognizable was the great poet and play writer, Oscar Wilde. His iconic pose before his trails was painted, but Tweek had painted his eyes blank white and scraped the canvas from his mouth, almost like Oscar Wilde was vomiting.

I chuckled in amazement, but Tweek gasped. "It's bad isn't it? That's why you're laughing! -ack- I knew this wasn't a good idea." He buried his face in his hands.

"No! I laughed because I don't know anyone who can paint like you." I insisted. I pulled his hands from his face. "Honestly, I'm happy to know someone as talented as you." I smiled and let go. "So tell me the truth behind it."

He hesitated, but eventually spoke. "I think Oscar Wilde shouldn't see the world in such a cynical way. I love him though. He often contradicts his thoughts, but still spills his heart out in beautiful stanzas. Two years ago I read his novel over and over, almost as if it was my only friend."

I wanted to kiss him. But instead I asked, "So why the blank eyes and scrape?"

He shrugged. "Because I felt like it."

I laughed. "Good enough."

He turned to me and asked "...you're staying in school tomorrow, right?"

I nodded. "And I'll be sure you won't die crossing the street." I leaned in closer and whispered. "I'll guard you with my life."

"Don't die for me! Then who will walk me home?"

I laughed again, and took the initiative of hugging him playfully. "Then we'll run like maniacs across the street together."

But when I hugged him, he didn't say anything, or tremble, or push me away in terror. In fact, I felt his arms hesitantly move upwards and hug me back. We stayed like that for a minute, and I could feel Tweek calm down against me. I only wished that minute would have lasted longer.

Al told me not to fall for anyone, now I understand when he said they can make you go crazy.