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In hindsight, it probably wasn’t the smartest idea to leave a pair of scissors on your desk, within reach of an extremely curious four year old. It was an accident, and you hadn’t meant to, but after working on your science project for three hours straight, you were ready for bed. So ready that you didn’t even bother taking off your clothes that you had worn that day, just going to bed and falling dead asleep almost immediately.
You didn’t even feel the small tugs on your hair around five o'clock in the morning.
You had been so tired that you didn’t even realize you had completely slept pass your alarm scheduled to go off at 6:30. When you finally did wake up, naturally, you glanced at the clock wondering why it hadn’t gone off. The time read 7:50 in bright, antagonizing red. Shit. You only had ten minutes to get to school. Not having time to take a shower, you threw a fresh pair of clothes on, not wanting your classmates to think you were a total slob, and dashed out the door, running all the way to school.
You got there at 8:02, which wasn’t too bad considering your house was about a 15 minute walk from the school. Glancing in the classroom door and noticing that Mr. Garrison was distracted, you snuck into the room and sat down at your desk hoping he hadn’t even realized your absence. Thankfully he didn’t comment on it, so you leaned down, grabbing a few supplies out of your backpack. When you looked up you noticed the whole class was looking at you with stunned looks on their faces, and Eric Cartman was cracking up two seats over.
“What the fuck happened to you?!” he laughed, tears streaming down his chubby face.
Before you could even respond to him Mr. Garrison addressed the class, a stern look on his face. “I want you all to shut the fuck up and watch this documentary on the rainforest. I have the worst hang-over right now and I am NOT in the mood for anybody’s bullshit!” he said, before turning off the lights and letting the movie run.
Mr. Garrison had fallen asleep and by the time he had woken up and actually let you leave class, it was time for recess.
You had to go to the bathroom pretty badly. You even considered waking up Mr. Garrison to ask for permission to go, but you didn’t have a death wish. The thought of him waking up when you were gone was not that pleasant either, so instead you elected to hold it.
After you finally got to go to the bathroom and were washing your hands off, you glanced up at the mirror, finally realizing why everyone had been laughing about. Your hair was cut short and unevenly, sticking up at all different angles. Even Tweek Tweak’s hair looked neat in comparison to yours. Running your fingers through your hair in irritation, you tried to process what could have possibly happened that would cause your hair to be in the state it was currently in. That’s when it dawned on you; you had left the pair of scissors on your desk and your little brother must have taken them despite your mother’s constant warnings not to play with scissors.
Your cheeks were hot with embarrassment as you went to your locker and started rifling through your possessions for your hat, but to no avail. Where the hell could it be? You were almost certain you had it in your locker. Having taken everything out of your locker and still not finding your hat, there wasn’t much else you could do except go outside for recess and hopefully hide with the Goth kids where nobody would pay any attention to you.
Unfortunately, your plan was a failure as soon as you stepped outside. Cartman had your hat in his hand and was twirling it around on his index finger.
“Looking for something?” he asked, menacingly.
“Just give it back, Cartman,” you demanded, not in the mood to play his game.
“Oh, you want it? Then go get it!” he replied, before tossing your hat over the school yard fence and into a pile of dog poop.
You gasped and tears welled up in your eyes as you looked helplessly at your hat.
“You look like you let Tweek do your hair! You look so fucking stupid! I may be big boned, but at least I don’t look as fucked up and whacked out on drugs as you do!” Cartman taunted, sauntering over to you.
The tears came harder, and you tried your best to cover your disheveled hair with your hands, “Stop it,” you begged, pleading that he would just get bored and give up.
“You’re such a little pussy!” he laughed, getting up in your face before shoving you down.
You winced in pain as you hit the asphalt, but the pain was short lived because Craig Tucker was now approaching you and Cartman, a terrifying look in his eyes like he was out for blood.
“Fuck you Cartman,” he said, helping you up off the ground.
“Oh, so now Craig I have fucked up teeth Tucker is coming to help you? Isn’t that just the cutest thing?” Cartman mocked.
Craig didn’t even justify his comment with a response, instead punching him in the face. Cartman fell to the ground, causing him to burst into tears. Not wanting to stick around, Craig flipped him off before leading you away, taking off his hat.
“Your hair doesn’t look that bad,” he said, gently pulling his blue chullo over your head.
You flushed and gave him a shy smile, “Thanks, Craig... your teeth aren’t that bad. Cartman doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”
And at that, Craig Tucker flashed a genuine toothy smile at you. His teeth were not nearly as bad as Cartman was making them out to be. Sure, they were a little crooked, but he would be getting braces eventually. But in the meantime, you actually found them to be incredibly cute and his self-consciousness about them even cuter. They were part of the reason Craig didn’t smile. It wasn’t just because he was a sarcastic bastard. No matter what he tried to tell anyone, his teeth really bugged him and the fact that he just granted you that one smile brightened your day and made it easier to forget what had occurred earlier.
“Thanks,” he said, a slight flush present on his cheeks. “You can wear my hat the rest of the day, and I’ll just walk you home after school. Just so I can make sure I get my hat back. Stripe loves to sleep in it.”
You blushed and nodded in agreement as you and Craig headed back to class. No matter what anyone said, Craig Tucker was a good guy, and you wouldn’t ever let them try to tell you any different.