I like the sound of a birdsong
That can make me feel so fine, so fine.

—Lena Meyer Landrut, I Like to Bang My Head

Tweek's point of view:

My phone quickly transformed into my most cherished possession.

For about a week since returning home I'd wanted to shoot myself. Craig hadn't been sending any letters and I hadn't had the courage to send one first. My mood ended up reflecting in my work, both at the coffeehouse and at school. To be honest, I don't think anybody even wanted to hang out with me during that time. I'd been such a bummer that I didn't even blame them.

That's when a remarkable thing called Craig Tucker got my number happened. I'd known instantly that I had Clyde's girlfriend to thank and I would barrage her with appreciation the next time I saw her because all of a sudden my entire week of pity seemed meaningless, every day since then has been wonderful, and I've just always wanted to be able to say: "Yeah, I've got Craig Tucker's number." Even though I've only said it to myself in my head, it was good enough for me.

We talked all the time. Hours at a time. Those were my favorite parts of the day—every day—and even though they happened regularly, I never got over them. Each call was like a shot of adrenaline. When we were on the phone together I did my homework or cleaned the house or washed the dishes in the coffeehouse. I could restock, sweep, and make dinner far more efficiently than I did with only my own thoughts to talk to. Craig made me want to do something with my time that didn't have to do with counting pills or visiting Dr. Norris for my scheduled appointments.

And I was smart about it. I waited for him to call me—never the other way around. Every time he called I felt satisfaction and thought That's right, because for once I got to be the one who felt superior. Craig wouldn't call unless he wanted to talk to me, and he called a lot. It made me feel good about myself. Someone wanted to talk to me on a regular basis. I was worth talking to on a regular basis. The best part though was that it was Craig. He gave me hours of his time every day because he wanted to and because I was worth it to him. Our phone calls made me happy in ways I hadn't known existed. It was a simple happy, an easy happy.

I was napping when my phone buzzed, its little body located at the small of my back from when I'd flipped over. A smile touched my lips and I buried my face into my pillows, a feeling in my chest that was both constricting and expanding. My arm bent around, wrist twisting to find it. Once I had it I brought it to my ear and murmured, "Hello?"

If it turned out to be Thomas, I was going to be pissed. Once before that had happened, an instance where I had been so sure it was Craig purely based on being used to him calling often. I've never been so disappointed.

"Aye," Craig drawled. I bit my lip, adoring the deep rumble of his voice over the phone.

"Hi." I wondered if my happiness came across in my tone the way I could tell that his was gruff.

He chuckled, and for a second I was terrified that it was true, that he knew how happy just a phone call from him could make me, but then he asked, "Did I wake you up?"

"Yeah," I confessed. "But it's okay. I was just taking a nap."

While Craig responded, I opened my jaws and yawned. "Oh? How was it without me?"

My cheeks blossomed, but this was behavior I was used to from him. He liked to remind me that things were always better when he was there to do it with me like sleeping and eating and pretty much everything else. Whenever it could be questioned, he made sure to do it. I had a bad dream last night—Oh, how was it without me? I just went out to eat with Thomas—Oh, how was it without me?

"Awful," I exaggerated. "Your absence was all I could think about."

Flirting with Craig—I wouldn't say it was something I was used to—but rather it was something that I looked forward to because I knew that it would happen regardless. The level of comfort I felt with him made me bold enough to do so.

"Well that's just terrible," he concluded. The smile on my lips stretched wider. "I think I might have to do something to fix that."

"And what would that be?" I closed my eyes and continued to rest, lulled by his voice and content with just listening.

Momentarily he hummed before saying, "Clyde's throwing a party for Halloween. Everyone's getting dressed up and they're going to wreck the apartment so you should come back so you'll be here for it because I want you to go."

"A party?" Parties meant beer and alcohol and drugs and horrible judgement and regrets and mistakes and sometimes the cops and a vicinity full of people I couldn't trust. I could remember stories from high school about those particular parties, specifically ones centered around this exact trio of best friends. Clyde had a tendency to turn into a party animal, Token was known for capturing every vital moment, and Craig was that heinous part of your conscious that suggested you do bad things. He was the person that gave out ideas that eventually led to the cops. He was the one who turned a person into "that" drunk. And that was just high school.

"Booze, people, sex in whatever bedroom happens to be open." His description made me uneasy for multiple reasons. One was due to my basic paranoia regarding parties in general because these were unfamiliar people in an unfamiliar town, but another was my own unfamiliar persona when I wasn't sober. What if I admitted everything to Craig? It was a terrifying question and the last thing I wanted to do was find out what would happen if I did.

"I—I don't know." Unfamiliarity wasn't the only reason keeping me from accepting his invitation. "I mean, I want to! I do want to. But people in costumes, they make me anxious."

Craig scoffed, offended. "You don't think I can protect you? I'm as macho as they come, little man."

"Little man?" I cried. "I'm not little anymore! I've grown so much." Five foot six was a radical growth from how tall I used to be. "Do you really not think so?"

"No. I don't think so." He was laughing at me on the other line.

I sat up, perturbed. "Seriously?"

He snorted as though making fun of me for asking. "Do you even shave?"

That was quite the question. I opened my mouth to retort before closing it just as quickly, deflating against my bed. "No."

"Ah, I see. You're still just a baby," Craig cooed. "I will call you peach fuzz." What kind of nickname was that? Hopefully he knew that I was pouting. "It'd be illegal anyways. You don't have to come."

"N-No!" I wanted to see him again. If I had to get through a costume party full of drunks then I would. "I'll come. I want to go."

"I knew you did." When I made a snarky comment about how Oh, he was all-seeing wasn't he? he agreed and said, "Fuck yeah I am. You wouldn't believe some of the shit I've dug up on people."

Well I sure hope you never dig up any of mine. "Just let me ask Kenny. We've never spent Halloween somewhere else before but I'm sure he won't mind."

"Does he absolutely have to come?"

Craig's question flattered me, and I paused entirely just to process it. I'd just assumed that the invitation included Kenny as well, but was it just me that he wanted? Not that he wanted me. In that sense. I shook my head to clear my various thoughts and asked, "Who else is going to protect me incase you're not macho enough?"

"You want Kenny as your backup? You do know he'd rather fuck you than protect you, right?" Before I could say anything, he added, "You don't want to lose your virginity to him."

You're right. I want to lose it to you. "How else am I going to get down there?"

"Can't you drive?" He asked me so honestly that I couldn't help but laugh.

"Are you kidding me? I don't even have my permit. I'm the apocalypse when I get behind the wheel."

Despite insulting myself, I felt pretty damn good when Craig humored me. "Then I can come—"

"No you're not," I said, finalizing any argument. He was silent after my interjection. "I'm not going to be a burden like that."

Whatever he said next was left unheard, because in that moment, Thomas barged into my room. It was so unexpected that I shrieked and knocked my head against the wall, cursing violently into my phone before directing the rest toward my best friend who'd begun laughing. I twisted around on my bed until my feet touched the floor. Hunched over, the golden blonde didn't even realize it when I ran into him, tackling him into my door where it slammed shut with a repercussive thud.

He grabbed me from around the waist and hoisted me into the air. I slammed my elbow into his shoulder but he refused to relent, tossing me onto my bed where I nearly bounced back into the wall again. A warning started in my throat, abruptly cut off when he lunged and landed on top of me. The air left my lungs and I had to gasp for it to return, shoving at Thomas hard enough that he rolled onto his stomach beside me.

Craig's voice returned to my ear. "Did you just die?"

"Not quite," I breathed. "Thomas just threw me across the room."

"Is that Craig?" I waved for the golden blonde to shut his mouth.

"Dude, I need to teach you how to defend yourself. You never know when Kenny'll snap and take advantage of you."

I rolled my eyes. "Like he hasn't tried already."

"Yeah, I heard." Oh really? Maybe it was best if Kenny didn't go to Craig's. I couldn't keep track of what left his mouth. Or went in it. "You're prude even when you're drunk."

"Well, I'm glad he put in a g-good word for me," I grumbled.

Thomas scooted closer, our sides pressed together tight. He leaned in close to hear the whole conversation. "That was supposed to be a good word?"

A scowl found my face. "Hey." I imagined him feigning interest by listening mock-earnestly. "Virgins are rare and few. People love virgins."

"Hmm. You're right. I did pick you over Kenny because of your purity."

"Yeah, you did. That was your most charming moment." Thomas pulled back with a look of surprise expanding across his features. He hasn't witnessed me flirt—ever. I blushed and turned away, taking my conversation elsewhere.

"You like that?" There was a husky note on the edge of Craig's voice. "Do you want me to say it again?"

"Oh God," I laughed. "Yeah, say it again."

"No, you have be like: Oh baby, say it one more time." He even put emphasis on the "oh baby".

My hand reached up to cover the side of my face as my laughter turned to giggles. "Are you serious? I don't want to say that."

He sighed dramatically. "Jesus Christ, dude. I'm going to have to teach you how to dirty talk too?"

"What?" Thomas stuck his ear against the other side of the phone at my incredulous cry. "I—I don't want to learn how to do that!"

"Too late. It's already happening. The next time you come over we're going to wrestle and talk dirty to each other."

Thomas gave me a thumbs up, mortifying me. "No, I don't think w-we should do that."

"What did I just tell you, dude? There's no changing my mind. I'm going to show you how to seduce a man."

"How the hell did we go from dirty talking to seducing?" At my wonderment, Thomas hooted and pelvic thrust against me. "I don't even have anyone to seduce."

"Sure you do," he chuckled condescendingly. "Whatever happened to your cockblock crush? Don't you want to seduce him?"

Fuck yeah I want to seduce you all over the place, Craig Tucker. That's all I've ever wanted to do to you. But instead I managed to squeak out, "Oh. No—no. That's n-not really necessary a-at all really."

Craig made an amused sort of noise. "Actually, I think it is. We need to get you some ass, Tweek." My breath caught because it was his ass that I wanted. "I'm going to refine your skills and then you're going to find this asshole of a crush and tease the fucking shit out of him, alright?" All I could do was babble incoherently, unsure if I should be excited or scared out of my mind. "So what's Thomas doing over?"

I swallowed past the lump in my throat and croaked, "We're going out to eat."

"Ah," he mused. "I wonder how fun it'll be without me."

To distract myself from our previous topic of conversation so bluntly dismissed, I watched Thomas pull some shoes out of my closet. Now would be the opportune moment to get the fuck off the phone so I could breathe. "Y-Yeah. I—uhm—s-should probably go."

"Okay." His voice was nothing but a mutter. It was impossible to keep the corners of my lips from shifting upward. Saying bye definitely wasn't his favorite thing to do and I couldn't help but wonder if it had something to do with me or if he just liked talking on the phone. "Can I call you later, peach fuzz?"

"Don't call me that," I scolded. "But yeah, call me later."

"Okay, Tweek Tweak." My chest expelled its weird contraction-expansion feeling. To keep it contained, I curled in on myself.

It took a lot for me to admit it—perhaps my rationality was misguided because of this uncontrollable feeling—when I told him, "I like the way you say my name. It sounds like a bird chirp."

His grin was noticeable through his voice. "I'll call you later then. Eat something good."

And then he hung up.

All I wanted to do was ram my head through the wall. Instead, I turned my phone off and pushed it over the side of my bed so that I wouldn't be tempted to gawk at it and all of the conversations its put me through.

"I swear he is the only man for you," Thomas said, grabbing one of my ankles so he could put my foot into my shoe. I clenched my hands until my knuckles went white just hearing that.

"You know how there's a difference between regularity and compulsion?" Regularity was nothing to be thought of. Regularity happened and it was natural. Compulsions spun around my head and threaded through every crevice until just the thought of any certain thing in particular made me feel the need to do something. Something to counter or correspond and Craig Tucker made me want to do many somethings. Like dirty talk and seduce and tease and anything else he might've had in mind. "He is definitely a compulsion, Thomas."

There were specific things that I constantly sought. When I was out in public, anxious with all of those people around me, I wanted only to go home. When my paranoia surfaces, dousing me with its irrationality, I wanted only my medication. But when I was without Craig, stuck in South Park and unsure of when the next time I'd see him would be, I wanted only to see him because that's when my brain would finally quiet down.

"I can tell." Thomas straightened out and walked toward my door, opening it and stepping out. I reached over the side of my bed to retrieve my phone before rolling off to follow the golden blonde. "But what's this about wrestling and dirty talk?"

"Supposedly I need to learn how to defend myself and because I wouldn't say 'oh baby, say it one more time' I guess I need a lesson on how to dirty talk too."

As we started down the stairs, Thomas said, "Yeah, man. If you can't say that then you need some—fuck—help. I can give you a few pointers so that you can surprise him. You can show him how eager you are to be his student."

"We're not roleplaying, dude. There's no teacher-student game going on."

"Fine then. No fun for you." He shrugged nonchalantly, leading us into the kitchen. Neither of us noticed my mom as he said, "Just make sure to tell him that you want him to rip off all your clothes. And to push you against the wall. I think you'd be into a little bit of that. Like you're so shy and soft-spoken but inside you want to be roughed up. That's where the wrestling comes in, let me tell you."

There was a clank from sink as she accidentally knocked a piece of silverware into it. My lungs tightened at her presence. She wasn't supposed to be home. Her and my dad were only ever at the coffeehouse when I wasn't. Why the hell was she here? "Oh my God." I grabbed Thomas by the arm and hauled him toward the front door, hurriedly trying to evacuate the house and take my best friend's sexual comment with us.

Outside, Thomas harshly whispered, "She wasn't there earlier. I can't believe I said that in front of her."

"Fuck that, man! I can't believe you said that about me in front of her!"

He walked with a guilty stride toward Kenny's truck parked in the driveway. I followed and got in first because the middle was always my seat, ignoring the other blonde as he asked what was wrong. "I told him to tell Craig to rip his clothes off and push him against the wall. His mom was standing right there," Thomas confessed.

Kenny cracked up laughing, further aggravating me. "That's priceless, Tweekers. Stop being a baby about it."

My glare was narrowed directly at his face. "My parents already think I'm a slut. Now they're going to think I'm a kinky slut." Pulling out of the driveway, Kenny started down the street, his trunk a lumbering chunk of metal. "They want me to get tested. Again."

Once before I'd been tested but the difference was that it'd been my own choice even though I was as virgin as a virgin could get. I'd just had to make sure otherwise my paranoia was going to diagnose me with crabs, genital herpes, chlamydia or any other possible STD. This time is was my mom and dad's decision because they believed I was going to Lakewood for what was probably multiple men when in reality it was only ever going to be one. One that I hadn't even had sex with. Their own worry and paranoia I'd inherited was their attempt at taking care of me, I knew, but it was beginning to breach a boundary that was—by this point—just plain insulting.

"Just tell your parents the truth," Kenny said. "You're going to Lakewood for Craig and that's it." The problem was that I didn't want my parents knowing that I had the world's most clingy crush on the same boy who had caused a relatively fair amount of trouble in our town. The same boy I grew up with; the same boy they knew; the same boy who beat the shit out of me in third grade and I to him. My parents and his parents were friends. I would kill myself if word of my crush reached Craig's monstrous firecrotch of a dad. "Better yet, let them talk to him. Parents love talking to who their child's infatuated with. They just need reassurance."

"That's not happening. No," I said.

"Believe it or not, Craig is a parent charmer. I can guarantee that he is the type you want to bring home to your parents because he knows how to work with them. Him and Token. Let him show your mom and dad that he's a good guy, otherwise whatever happens next you've done to yourself."

What I blurted out in tandem was an attempt to change the subject, to push it in the direction of somewhere lighter. "Clyde's throwing a Halloween party and we're invited. Can we go?"

But of course it would fail me.

"You're not going to be happy about this," Kenny warned, stopping at a light.

That wasn't what I wanted to hear. "What?" I growled.

The light changed and the truck continued down the road. "I'm going away in a couple of days. I won't be gone for long, but it'll be after Halloween when I get back. It's a workshop ordeal down in Denver. I'm staying with Kyle."

"Oh." I wanted to be happy because this was good for him. He was getting farther in his career and that was above all else. I was proud of this skirt chaser who at one point had been nothing but a pervert. But that also meant I wouldn't be able to see Craig until he got back. Maybe this would be best, though. I've never spent a holiday away from home, especially one so scary. Thomas and I usually stayed inside and watched one scary movie then for the remainder of the night watched whatever else was on. It would be weird without him.

"I know what you're thinking but it's not like you absolutely need me to get down there." Kenny glanced over and winked.

I scoffed. "Oh yeah, just let me total my dad's car trying to get out of the driveway." He opened his mouth to interject, only I wasn't finished. "Just let me get a world record full of traffic tickets for driving five miles per hour down the highway. Let me drive for two days just to get there."

He started laughing as he said, "Don't play stupid, Tweek. You know I meant to ask Craig."

"Oh yeah," I repeated. "Just let me ask him to drive two hours down here and two hours back just to pick me up. I'm not leaving Thomas alone for Halloween anyways."

"I'd rather have you with Craig on Halloween than with me. You're getting down there one way or another," Thomas promised, not helping me in the slightest.

"He'll do it," Kenny added.

"No he won't."

"Ask for yourself and see."

Great. Fucking wonderful.

Maybe Craig would be meeting my parents sooner than I expected.