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“Ok. Ready?” Clyde glanced beside him at Craig, who nodded, too focused on the screen in front of him to do much else. Clyde swallowed, bouncing his leg, his body abuzz with nerves of all kinds. Cast a wide net, they’d been told, when applying to colleges. Something will catch. Why Craig had agreed to cast the same net together with Clyde, he wasn’t sure. Craig liked to be an enigma and Clyde liked to respect his boundaries.
Still, even though they both sent in applications to all the same colleges, they had yet to both be accepted to any of the same places. Every time Clyde got an acceptance, Craig got a rejection, or waitlisted, or vice versa. Time to decide was running out and so was their pool of places to hear back from. Each time, they waited until they both got an email, hinting at their results, then went to one of their rooms to find out together. It had been exciting, at first, but now there was an air of dread around the whole affair.
“Ok,” Clyde said, bringing his eyes to his own screen. “Just gotta… open the link.” Today’s college was especially important. It was some arts college that Tweek had already gotten into for music and Craig wanted to follow him and study film. Craig hadn’t said that exactly, but Clyde wasn’t stupid. Oblivious, occasionally, but not stupid. Despite all the time they spent together, he knew Craig never had eyes for him. Just Tweek. Of course Clyde hoped Craig got in where he wanted to, but selfishly? Maybe, if Craig didn’t follow Tweek, if Clyde could just say something first, just make it to a college where it was only them…
There were a million what-ifs and could-bes, scenarios that played constantly in his brain. They were all fake though. Probably would stay that way, with how reality was shaping up to be.
“On three.” Clyde clenched his fist holding his phone, speaking to distract himself from the spiral of disappointment he was already careening towards without even being rejected by the college (or Craig) yet. “One?”
“Two,” Craig said flatly, his thumb hovering above the link.
“Three!” Clyde clicked and shook his phone gently, muttering “C’mon, c’mon” as if that would make the website load faster. It probably didn’t but it made him feel better as the circle on the screen spun around. Finally, he got through and read the words at the start.
Thank you for your application. We regret to inform you…
Clyde sighed. He expected as much, since his application portfolio consisted of some hastily thrown together concept art and a snippet of a bug-ridden game, which was actually mostly coded by Kyle Broflovski. Video game design wasn’t Clyde’s passion, but if he wanted to follow his real passion, that major was definitely the coolest one to lock himself into.
“Another one for the reject pile,” Clyde said, plastering a grin on his face to try and show that he was actually really fine with the news. “How about you?”
“I uh.” Craig swallowed and smacked his mouth dryly. “I got in.” He looked at Clyde, his eyebrows furrowed just the slightest bit with worry, warily studying his reaction. Clyde took a deep breath in, hoping that air coming in would push down all his fears and that the noise he made sounded like a whoop of excitement and not a frustrated yell.
“Hell yeah!” Clyde threw his arms around Craig, squeezing him tight (not many more of those hugs left now), giving him a congratulatory clap on the back. “That’s awesome, Craig!”
“It’s not— Clyde, it’s not awesome.” Craig put his hands on Clyde’s shoulders and pushed him back. He kept his head turned away and eyes downcast. “That’s another place I got into that you got rejected from. This sucks, Clyde.”
“It’s fine!” Clyde put his own hands on Craig’s shoulders, shaking him gently. He wouldn’t let his stupid feelings get in the way of Craig’s big moment. “I’m fine! We gotta celebrate you getting into your dream school.”
“My dream school?” Craig did look up now, but only to scowl at Clyde like he was insane.
“Yeah! You said you wanted to do nothing but artsy film stuff for four whole years. Now you can!”
“But what about you?”
“What about me?” Clyde forced the biggest smile he’d forced in his whole life. “I’m a big boy, man. I’ll figure it out. And you, you know, you’re gonna have Tweek. You don’t need me.” The smile hurt, or maybe that was the ache in his chest from holding his tears in. Craig was searching his eyes, trying to find something he wasn’t getting because he was shaking his head. Clyde forced himself to nod, smile wider (god it was so wide, too wide), tell Craig that he would not be his deadweight. Craig had to be the one to cut the ties with Clyde, let him go, please let me go first because I can’t let you go first, won’t ever —
There was never a moment in Craig’s life where Clyde would call him ugly, not when Craig had cheekbones and a nose like a bust of a Greek god. Even when they drove into Denver to find weird shit at second hand stores and Clyde dared Craig to try on “ugly” clothes, he never looked bad. Everything hung on his frame like it was tailor-made for him; he pulled it off in the way only someone as effortlessly unaffected as Craig could. There had to be some law the universe had written up that Craig Tucker could never be ugly, ever, but…
He was sort of an ugly crier.
“Wha—” Clyde dropped his smile as Craig scrunched his face up, fluids leaking from his eyes and nose and hiccups accompanying his sobs. He immediately tried in vain to get rid of the evidence, only succeeding in rubbing his cheeks and nose red. Clyde, temporarily frozen and caught completely off guard by the sudden onslaught of tears, reached out and rubbed Craig’s arms comfortingly. When Craig crumpled, continuing his crying into Clyde’s shoulder, Clyde felt himself on the verge of joining him.
“I’m serious, Craig,” he said, hoping the tears choking his voice would stay inside. Who knows what else could start pouring out along with them. “I’m gonna be fine. You should commit to this one.”
“I can’t.” The nasally aspect of Craig’s voice was further emphasized in his upset state. “Clyde—”
“You can’t let me hold you back, man.” Clyde squeezed Craig to him as tightly as he could, not wanting to let him go, needing to. “You gotta—” He shook his head, unable to keep speaking. All he could do was hold Craig as long as he let him. If the situation wasn’t so confusing and upsetting, Clyde would appreciate this reversal. Normally it was him blubbering in Craig’s arms, set off by just the smallest sad thought and seeking solace. Craig never failed to stop what he was doing and indulge Clyde, patting his back and just letting him let it all out. Even if Craig rolled his eyes or said that it wasn’t such a big deal, nothing to be upset over, he still rubbed reassuring circles in Clyde’s back the whole time.
After some time, Craig’s sobs died down, becoming little more than shaky breaths. He stayed where he was, though, sniffling with his face buried on Clyde.
“Why the hell did you say that?” Craig mumbled.
“What? Say what?” Clyde wracked his brain trying to figure out what he’d said that set Craig off. He wasn’t sure, but of course it was his fault. This going to college together plan was never going to work, he was never going to work, he should’ve known—
“That I don’t need you,” Craig said. His hands, gripping the front of Clyde’s jacket, tightened. “Why the hell did you say that?”
“Oh.” Clyde half-laughed, confused. “Uh, probably because you don’t? You always have everything so figured out and you don’t give a shit what people think about you. That’s cool. You’re, like, the coolest guy ever.”
“I’m not cool.” Craig turned his head slightly and his breath on Clyde’s neck sent a shiver through his body. “I make overly dramatic videos about my guinea pig going on space adventures. Cool people don’t do that. Cool people fucking… get invited to parties like you do.”
“I’m just peaking in high school, bro. That’s not a good thing, I think.”
“It’s not just going to be high school though. You said it yourself, you’re going to go to college and be fine, because everyone loves you, and I won’t because I’m me, I’m…” Craig took a breath in and out, trying to steady himself but he sounded on the verge of crying again. “I’m just some asshole.”
“Hey!” Clyde pulled Craig off of him so he could look him in the eyes, show him how serious he was. “No one is allowed to lie about my best friend like that.”
“Bullshit, Clyde,” Craig muttered, refusing to make eye contact. “It’s fucking true. No one likes me.”
“I like you.” Clyde held Craig’s hands in his, lacing their fingers together. It was barely a confession, so disguised that he could easily and quickly backtrack at any point. It was all Clyde figured he was going to get, though, so he was taking it. “I like you a lot, Craig.”
“Yeah. Sure.” Craig scoffed.
“C’mon, would I lie to you?” Clyde frowned. Craig finally met his gaze, eyes still wet and red and deeply sad for some reason that Clyde just knew had to do with him.
“No,” Craig said. “You wouldn’t. But you don’t—” He grimaced, searching for his words. “You said I’m your best friend.”
“Certified bestest.”
“You like me because I’m your best friend.”
“I mean… yeah. You’re my bro, Craig. We’re bros.” Clyde bumped him with his shoulder to try and emphasize how much they totally were just bros. That was why Clyde liked him and not because the way Craig was running his thumb over their clasped hands made his breath hitch.
“But we’re gonna have to say goodbye,” Craig mumbled. “When we graduate. If we don’t go to the same college.”
“I guess,” Clyde said, the admission thick and heavy on his tongue. Apparently they’d both feared but known the same thing all along. It was just like Craig to lay the problem out like this, so blunt and certain.
“I don’t want to do that.” Craig was really close. They had started leaning towards each other at some point and now they were on a precipice, a gentle nudge or word away from falling. Or maybe they’d already started falling a while ago and only just noticed, seconds away from the inevitable end.
“Me neither,” Clyde whispered, barely loud enough to hear over the pounding of his heart in his ears. He swore he could count every eyelash as Craig’s eyes went from half lidded to fully closed, as they made impact, lips on lips, tentatively soft but certain. The moment was everything Clyde had thought it could be but with one key difference: this was real.
He tilted his just slightly for a better angle to kiss back, letting Craig know that whatever he was asking now, the answer was absolutely yes. Clyde wanted to wrap his arms around Craig, maybe, or hold his face, but that would require letting go of his hands and no way was he going to do that. No reason to mess with a good thing.
As they pulled apart, they made eye contact again and that was all it took to pull each other back into more kisses. Chaste, but constant, like they wouldn’t believe it just happened if it didn’t happen again immediately.
“Wait,” Clyde said when they eventually did stop. “I thought– Don’t you like Tweek?”
“What?” Craig scrunched his face in confusion.
“In middle school, you told me you had a crush on Tweek,” Clyde said.
“Clyde, middle school was five years ago.” Craig shook his head. “I can’t believe you even remember that.”
“Yeah, well,” Clyde shrugged, smiling sheepishly. “I wanted to be a good wingman for you. Since it seemed like the boyfriend option was off the table.”
“You really thought I wouldn’t change my mind after all that time?”
"I mean... you never told me about any other crushes."
"Yeah, you don't usually talk about your crush with your crush."
"You had a crush on me?" Clyde's genuine surprise made Craig laugh and roll his eyes. He brought Clyde’s hand to his mouth and kissed it.
“You’re an idiot."
“But I guess I’m your idiot now,” Clyde grinned, butting his head on Craig’s affectionately. “Same college or not.” It was going to take a lot more than physical distance for Clyde to ever separate himself from Craig. And thankfully, it seemed like neither ever planned on letting that happen.