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The one freaking day we decide to sit inside while ditching class. Pete and I were talking about Cocteau Twins while Firkle and Henrietta were listening to Faith and the Muse. We all sat there, minding our own business, totally amped up for the rain that was forecasted that afternoon so we could sit in the graveyard and write poems before watching the paper dissolve from the water. Pete suddenly looks distracted and he looks over my shoulder.
“Hey Tweek! Hold up!” Said this kid in the main hall. I had seen him a few times, mostly from short videos of him beating up that boy who always wears that messed up green shirt, who was apparently named Tweek. I think his name was— Cale? No no, it was Craig.
“Listen, it’s just not going to work.” Wait, were Craig and Tweek dating? The group and I had heard something about some gay couple at our school, but we never paid that much attention. I guess we found out who it was, though. Just at the best time, too. It looked like things were ending for them.
“What? Why not?” Exclaimed Tweek. Oh yeah, they were definitely breaking up. A million ideas for poems raced through my head at this scenario. How cruel does someone have to be to break up with someone so loudly in front of their whole school. The very thought fills me with despair. Poe will be so proud of my work.
“I’m sorry, Tweek. But we can’t lie to ourselves anymore.” By now, they’ve got everyone’s attention. Henrietta’s taking a drag on her cigarette while looking intently, clearly feeling the same inspiration I am, and Pete has shifted to right beside me to rest his chin on my shoulder to get a better look. Firkle looks like he doesn’t give a shit, though. He thinks relationships are totally conformist.
“Yes, we are gay, but we do not belong together.” There was no emotion behind Craig’s words. He sounded so cold, and he must be truly stone-hearted to break up with his boyfriend like this.
“We don’t belong together? What suddenly changed, Craig?” Tweek, on the other hand, sounds distraught and stressed. He was clearly more affected by this than Craig. He was visibly shaking, though I think that’s something he does normally. I can only imagine the emotional pain and turmoil going on inside of him. God, I envy it.
“It’s just that people are different, that’s all.” That’s all? You can’t say that’s all when you’re breaking up with someone. If it was just that, you would get over it and continue to try for the person you were with. At least, that’s what you should do, but I imagine love is complicated.
“Uh huh. And who the hell is Michael?! Huh? You wanna tell me that?!”
…
What?
My world almost froze in that moment. What the hell? I had never met Craig in my life, let alone talk to him.
“What— What are y- what are you talking about?” My fucking thoughts exactly.
“I went through your phone when we went out last night, Craig. I saw your texts to Michael about hooking up with him!”
What. The. FUCK?
The group was looking at me now. Pete looked shocked and confused, while Henrietta and Firkle just looked like they were trying to piece everything together. I shot them a look to show I was just as confused as they were. My jaw clenched when I thought about the unwanted attention this might bring me. Not only would I possibly be forced to come out to my friends, but they would think I would have done such a thing. I would never hook up with a taken person, or anyone other than Pe— uh- I mean, someone.
“Wait, that- that’s not what happened.” Why is he so freaking calm?! Explain yourself! Because if the weird poems I’ve been finding in my locker are from you, Craig, I’m going to chop dicks.
“OH? It’s not?!”
“No! L-look! We both know this is for the better!” Don’t fucking dodge the question! Have you been cheating on your boyfriend with me? Without me knowing?? I’m so confused, I don’t even know what to think.
“Oh, don’t use that lame shit on me, man!” Agreed!
“You don’t want to feel bad, so you try to tell me what I want?!” By now, Tweek is going off on him. This sounds like a long time's worth of emotions finally coming out. Song ideas start pouring into before the ever-pressing thought on WHAT THE FUCK comes back into my mind.
I know I’ve been getting poems in my locker over the last few months, and someone keeps sending me texts but deleting them before I can see who it’s from. Was it Craig this whole time?! What the hell? I’ve never even talked to him! I look back over at the group, and Henrietta is pointing at me, then to Craig, as if to ask me if it’s true. I shook my head rapidly before turning back over to listen again.
“Tweek, don’t make me out to be the bad guy here.” Finally, Craig is showing a little emotion, but it’s not from possibly ripping out his boyfriend’s heart. It’s from the thought of this ruining his image. I don’t know whether to be frustrated by his behaviour or write a whole freaking album about it.
“No, you’re not the bad guy!” Tweek scoffs as tears form in his eyes. “You’re never the bad guy, are you?! You just step on people and you use them!”
I mean, I guess it’s kind of cool Tweek is outing Craig as an asshole and standing up for himself, but I still need some very important questions answered. Those poems in my locker were actually— sweet. Darkly tinged romantic literature, a style worthy of Poe or Mary Shelley. They made reference to things very few people knew about me, I had kind of hoped it had been… Someone else.
But if I have a cheating stalker on my hands, this changes everything and leaves bile in my throat.
“You’re going too far, dude. This is- like- totally not necessary.” Shut up, Craig and explain yourself! If Tweek has the story wrong, then explain!
“I’m going too far?! What is wrong with you?!” SAME FUCKING QUESTION HERE, MAN.
“This wasn’t part of the plan!”
“Well guess what, Craig! Love doesn’t follow a plan!”
These two need to go somewhere private and talk about all these things, then clear up the fucking story. I think everyone around is confused. Pete is still looking at me like he doesn’t believe me.
…
Wait, I just realised how Pete is looking at me. He looks… Hurt. Like I’ve betrayed his trust or something. We’ve been friends since we were 4, I would have the same reaction if I found out he did something like this.
He’s going to hate me. I’m going to lose my best friend over something I didn’t do.
“I was totally wrong about you. I opened myself up, and let you in… But you’ve got spikes, man…. You’ve got spikes.”
With that, Tweek walked away, with Wendy Testaburger following him, like she was going to console him. When Craig turned around, everyone gave him an angry look.
“Conformists.” I hear Firkle say.
I’m still so confused, but in a haze, I stand up and start to walk away. I can barely hear my friends asking where I’m going. I start walking faster and faster until I’m running out of the school and running home. Once I get there, I practically break the door open to run up to my room. I sit down on my bed and try to catch my head up to the present.
I grab the box of the poems I’ve found from under my bed. There were about 13, my favourite number. I was so sure, the handwriting was so similar… I sigh while the familiar feeling of despair and disappointment fill me. I was foolish to think he would want me. I was an idiot to believe that he would ever feel that about me. I lay on my bed and played the Lebanon Hanover discography, closing my eyes and trying to get my thoughts together. But the thought that these sweet words have been sent from someone who would do such a thing makes me sick to my stomach.
20 minutes pass, and I hear a knock on my bedroom door. I jumped, since my Dad was at work and my Mother was shopping with friends.
“Michael? Are you in there?” It was Pete. A wave of relief washes over me. I kicked the poems back under my bed and turned down the music.
“Come in.” I said after a few seconds.
Pete enters my room and closes the door behind him. He took a seat on the bed next to me and listened to Strangelove with me. We sat there in silence until the song faded out, then he looked over at me.
“Did you really hook up with him?” He asked.
“No. I’ve never even met him before in my life. You can check my phone if you want. There’s no hook-up texts.” I told him, lazily tossing over my phone and Pete barely glanced at my recents before putting it down.
“You seem upset— well, more than usual. Do you just not like the thought of the attention?”
That’s something I’ve always liked about Pete, he gets me. I nodded before sighing and closing my eyes. After a few moments, Midnight Creature started playing, and I felt the dip next to me raise as Pete got up. I tilted my head to look up at him and saw he had started dancing, since this was his favourite song off the album. I rolled to my side as I watched him sway along to the track, and I loved watching as he became nearly intoxicated by the music. He looked over at me with a soft smile and held out his hand.
“Cyclone?” He asked.
The Cyclone was a dance we learned at a This Cold Night concert together. I looked at him and took his hand. Following the beat, he crossed his arms and held my hands to his chest, before spinning us around and laughing softly. At first, I tried to hold it back, but his laugh was infectious, and I joined. We spun and danced until the song was over, laughing in each other's arms and smiling. I layed on the bed again and brought him down with me, making him land beside me.
“Did that help?” He asked.
It took me a moment to answer.
“Yeah, it did.” I smiled, and I meant it.
He was about to say something, but he stopped himself when he saw a piece of paper on the ground. He stood up and grabbed it, reading through it before widening his eyes slightly.
“What is it?” I asked, before realising I had accidentally left one of the poems on the ground and jumped up to take it from him. But he dodged my hand and continued looking at it.
“Give it back, dude!” I said, but he didn’t give in. He looked over at me with wide eyes and disbelief, and I froze with fear, worrying he’d piece the poems together the way I did.
…
“Y-You kept these?” He said softly, like he was embarrassed to.
I looked at him, frozen. What did he mean?
…
No way.
“Did— you write these?” I asked hesitantly.
He took a moment to think before nodding slowly. A fog took over me, full of confusion and wondering and maybe a bit of want- but that was all cut away when I realised what that meant.
“Do you— like me?” I couldn’t even look him in the eye, I was too embarrassed.
Wiping a tear from his eye, he nodded again. He looked upset, like the look Tweek had earlier. He sighed before starting to walk away, but I grabbed his hand. He looked back at me shocked, and I looked the same. I went from grabbing his hand to softening my grip to interlock my fingers with his. I turned my head away but pulled him closer, hugging him close.
“I- I like you, too.” I said after a long moment. I felt him relax into the hug and hold me back. We stood there for a while, at least until the next song was over. I brought us back over to my bed and we sat on it. We didn't talk for a while, we just sat in each other’s presence. Pete was the first to break the silence.
“I tried to tell you over text, but I got too embarrassed every time.” He said. I put the pieces together that he was the one deleting those messages. I still had a hard time believing it, that my best friend and crush actually felt the same way about me. That he thought I was worthy of that sort of attention. I told him it was alright, then he went on a slight ramble on how he’s liked me since we were 6 and how he’s wanted to tell me for so long. My non-existent heart swelled and I squeezed his hand.
“So— does this mean we’re dating now?” He asked, half hesitant. As soon as he asked, I Love You started playing from my phone. I smiled and looked over at him.
“Does that answer your question?” I smiled.