Chapter Text
Though South Park isn’t a very touristy place, it is still a mountain town. Here, when the snow melts and the cicadas start buzzing, the streets grow quiet. It’s such a human sort of thing. What else hibernates in the summertime? It doesn’t help either that the town’s always been a passing-through town. People stop by on their way up to the ski resorts, eat at the restaurants and maybe stay the night if they planned their trip poorly enough. But, when the ski resorts are closed, people don’t stop by at all.
Well. Save for a few. When college gets out in May, there’s one last wave of people; disgruntled teenagers and young adults coming back to the place they don’t really want to call home anymore only to mope around for three months before going back.
Craig is in that crowd of people. He just finished his first year at college, and it was… fine. Good, sometimes. Usually pretty boring. The drive back has been long yet fun, but that’s only because he’s got Clyde in the passenger seat, making a fool of himself as he sings along to the radio. Craig will never admit it, but he appreciates how hard Clyde tries to keep things upbeat.
In the backseat of his awful minivan is the entirety of their college dorm room. They’d roomed together, because of course they did. Tolkien and Jimmy had also picked CU Denver and were probably thirty minutes behind them on the highway. The four of them already have plans for the next day.
It seems like it should be a good summer, right? Craig hopes so. But, he’s also got this feeling in his gut that popped up alongside the ‘Welcome to South Park’ sign. As they get nearer to their childhood homes, the feeling grows. It almost feels like it’s going to suffocate him. Something wants to crawl out of his throat, but instead of letting it bubble out of his mouth, he turns up the music.
He wants to have a good summer.
It’s a warm Tuesday afternoon when things start to go awry. Well, it’s not really warm, but the rest is true.
Normally, it doesn’t get hot until mid-June, maybe early July. Calling today warm is generous. It’s still sweater weather, but Craig decides against a hoodie because he knows the car will get hot. The plan for today is to go out somewhere and smoke a few joints before coming back to Tolkien’s house to watch movies. A perfectly productive day for college students in the off months, right?
He’s wearing a regular t-shirt and jeans when Clyde stops by to pick him up. The car isn’t really his, but he acts like it is. His dad let him borrow it for the summer with the promise that he’d take good care of it. It’s barely been two weeks and Clyde’s already run headfirst into a trash can, but Craig has been sworn to secrecy about it.
He climbs into the back seat and does his best to feel as normal as possible. Things have been normal, of course, it’s just… Something feels off.
He thought that coming home would feel like… Well, coming home? Instead, he kind of feels like he doesn’t belong here anymore. Sitting at the dinner table with his mom, dad, and little sister makes him feel like an alien. When he looks out of his bedroom window at night, he sometimes thinks he’s looking out at Mars rather than his hometown. But, none of the other guys seem to be having the same issue, so he pretends like he’s not.
They stop by a gas station and all tumble out of the car. Clyde and Tolkien have been debating something the entire car ride, and they keep arguing even as they head inside. The door chimes in a weak attempt to warn the cashier that they’re coming, but no one comes to the counter. That’s not unusual. This convenience store never changes. Everything always stays in the same place and the cashiers always look like they’re on the brink of overdosing on the over the counter painkillers that are up by the front counter.
Craig picks out his usual bag of chips and waits for the rest of the guys to figure out what they want.
“Ugh! How are they out of Dr. Thunder? This is a personal attack,” Clyde whines.
“D-D-Dude, no one dr-drinks Dr. Thu-Thunder anyway,” Jimmy says. Everyone laughs, except for Clyde who pouts at the half empty drink cooler.
“You’re not gonna get something to drink?” Tolkien asks Craig. Tolkien has some kind of spicy chips and one of the fancy brands of water. Craig shrugs.
“Guess I should get some water, too. Gonna get cotton mouth otherwise,” he agrees.
Craig grabs a random bottle of water. Finally, Clyde settles on a sprite, and Jimmy asks for one of them to get him a coke. Clyde also stops by the sweets to pick out a couple of candy bars.
“That’s why he’s not losing that freshman fifteen,” Tolkien whispers loudly.
“Hey!” Clyde huffs. “It’s not my fault. I didn’t think the cafeteria food would be that good… But I’ll get skinny again!”
“Again? Did I miss when it happened the first time?” Craig asks.
Clyde gasps and tries his very best to look upset, but even he breaks out into laughter at that. Before long, they’ve got everything they need, so they head up to the counter. At first, no one comes to check them out. Luckily, Clyde doesn’t mind being annoying. He sets his things down and plants his palms on the counter before leaning over, looking off towards the break room.
“Helloooo? You’ve got customers!” he calls out. There’s a crashing noise before someone rushes up to greet them.
That’s when everything goes wrong.
That someone is none other than Tweek Tweak. He somehow looks even more frazzled than he did in high school. His hair has grown out a bit and also gotten more tangled, his eye bags are heavier, and he looks even more gaunt. Not to mention, he’s jittery as all hell, barely able to focus his eyes on something for longer than two seconds.
For a moment, Craig and Tweek make eye contact. Craig’s heart feels like it’s about to fall out of his chest.
“Oh, shit. It’s you guys,” Tweek says as a sort of greeting.
“It is indeed us guys. How’ve you been, man? It’s been a minute!” Clyde says, friendly as ever. Tweek blinks at him.
“I’ve been- uh. Y’know! Alright,” Tweek hastily grabs Clyde’s food as he speaks, scanning each item before bagging them as quickly as he can. “You paying all together, or, uh…?”
“No, I’m paying,” Tolkien says. Clyde, who had been in the middle of pulling out his wallet, pauses.
“You are?” Clyde asks.
“For this, yeah. Dad gave me his card,” Tolkien says, showing off a fancy looking golden credit card.
“Shit, dude. Ho-How do you constantly get ri-richer?” Jimmy says with a laugh.
They all pile up their stuff on the counter in front of Tweek, except for Craig. Tweek finishes scanning everything else, then looks at Craig expectantly. Craig realizes that he hasn’t taken a breath since Tweek walked out.
“Uh. Yeah, here you go,” he says, setting his bag down hastily. He steps away from the counter after, like being too close to Tweek might make him sick somehow. Honestly, he thinks it might.
Clyde gives him a look. Craig ignores it, trying to pretend like the advertisements plastered against the window are interesting. Tweek is quiet as he scans Craig’s stuff.
“Alright. Thirty seven forty three,” Tweek finally says. Tolkien hands over the card. It scans, the cash register makes some noises, and then Tweek gives Tolkien the receipt. Clyde grabs their bags and they head for the door.
“It was nice seeing you, dude!” Clyde says.
“Yeah! You still have the same number, right?” Tolkien asks.
Tweek hesitates for a moment before responding, “I do, yeah.”
“Cool! I’m hosting a party soon, I’ll text you the info!” Tolkien says before they all walk out of the store.
All in all, it was a very normal interaction. They climb into the car and Clyde distributes the snacks and drinks. Craig takes his and sinks back into the seat. He can’t think about anything besides the rising and falling of his chest, but he’s also trying to pretend like he’s fine. Unfortunately, he’s not that good at acting.
“You alright, dude?” Tolkien is the brave soul to ask the difficult question.
“Yeah,” Craig answers immediately. “Just… Wasn’t really expecting to see, uh. Him.”
“I get that. It’s probably weird to be jumpscared by your ex like that,” Clyde says. “It figures his parents would make him work during the summer… But why the gas station? That’s kinda weird.”
“It is. But who knows with him. Hey, Craig, don’t get hung up on him, alright? Let’s go smoke. It’ll make everything better,” Tolkien suggests.
Craig nods. Clyde starts up his car and heads out of the parking lot. After a few moments of silence, Clyde picks another fight with Tolkien and it returns to a sort of normal. The only thing that’s still stuck is Craig.
He keeps staring at the chips. His stomach turns at the thought of eating them now. Tweek touched them. Why does that thought disgust him so much? Is disgust even the right word? He took a psych class last semester. It helped him put a name to a lot of the shit he had going on in his head, but he’s still really bad at picking apart his emotions.
He thinks this pain might be normal, though.
Breakups are hard. Moving on is even harder, right? Everyone feels like their chest is caving in when they make eye contact with someone that used to be the most important person in their life? It’s not him. He’s not weird. There’s nothing else to it. He needs to stop thinking about it.
The weed helps. Getting high makes it so he can listen to Clyde, Jimmy and Tolkien ramble on about stupid shit and find it entertaining, but he still can’t eat the chips. His mouth is so fucking dry, but when he goes to pick up the water he’d gotten, he remembers that Tweek’s fingers touched the bottle. He gives it to Clyde instead.
Later, when they get to Tolkien’s house, he drinks three bottles of water in one go. He has to throw away the chips discreetly. Once all traces of him are gone, it’s a little bit easier. He’s still pretty sure left his heart on the floor of the convenience store, but Tolkien rolls another joint and Craig hogs it until he’s high enough to forget about it.
By Friday night, Craig forgets about Tweek. Not entirely, of course. He’s not about to spontaneously forget almost a decade of memories without some kind of major head injury (and try as he might, he hasn’t been able to convince Clyde to give him a concussion... not even when Craig invoked the bro code). But, he spends his time leading up to the party smoking enough weed to kill a lesser man, and that lets him forget enough. When he’s high, he isn’t thinking. He doesn’t remember their breakup or his shitty freshmen year or anything. All he can do is sit there, enjoy the moment, and laugh at Clyde.
Unfortunately, Clyde runs out of weed Friday morning. They realize after they’ve already had their morning smoke session. Craig at least got to get violently high one last time? There’s no way he won’t be sober by nine this evening, though.
“How did I… I bought a hundred dollars worth of weed, dude!” Clyde says, laying flat on the living room floor while staring up at his ceiling. They’re twenty minutes into trying to do the math to figure out how they’re out of weed. Craig has a giant mason jar full in his bedroom, but he hasn’t told Clyde yet. He also doesn’t feel like getting it, because if he does, Clyde’s going to try driving to Tolkien’s party toked out of his mind.
As much as being high helps, going sober is honestly the best option. Despite his joking, he doesn’t really want to wind up wrapped around a tree.
“A hundred dollars of weed isn’t that much anymore, especially with how we’ve been smoking. Just hit up Kenny and ask him to steal some from the Marsh’s for you. That’s what I do,” Craig suggests.
He’s pretty sure Kenny doesn’t actually steal it. Kenny practically lives on that farm now. Stan’s weirdo dad probably pays him in weed if he helps around the farm. Kenny gives it out if people ask- or he upsells it to the teens in town, like a proper businessman. Craig only knows because his little sister almost got scammed into paying eighty dollars for an eighth, then when she talked to her friends she came back and called Kenny a cunt.
“Really? Shit. Think he’s gonna be at Tolkien’s party?” Clyde asks.
“Everyone is. Tolkien showed me the list. I think everyone from our graduating class is gonna fuckin’ be there,” Craig grumbles as he curls up with one of the pillows on the couch.
There’s a heavy pause before Clyde tries to do that thing he does sometimes.
“Aren’t you worried about running into Tweek?”
Clyde is a good best friend. He cares a lot about people. Craig couldn’t count the number of times Clyde has gotten weepy over their friendship. That being said… he also tries to pry sometimes. In Clyde’s defense, Craig hasn’t talked about it since the news first broke near the end of senior year. Their whole friend group was devastated by the breakup, but Craig knew they all expected them to get back together. As time went on, though, people started to get more and more concerned.
But Craig wouldn’t talk about it. He still doesn’t want to.
“I mean. I don’t know. Tolkien’s house is big. And even if I do, I can just ignore him, y’know? It’s not a big deal,” Craig says. He’s trying to be nonchalant again. It’s not working.
“I guess… It’s just that I saw it, dude. The look on your face when you saw him. I’ve never seen you that freaked out. I don’t need you to tell me what happened or anything, but just… You don’t have to lie,” Clyde tries his hardest to get his brain to form something coherent and sincere.
“I’m not lying. I mean, it was an amicable sort of thing. We both thought it’d be a good idea,” Craig insists.
That’s what the story always has been. As far as anyone else knew, they both agreed that it was in their best interest to end things. It isn’t the full truth, not by any means. But if Craig starts being honest now, he’s going to ruin his high.
“It can still be a mutual agreement and hurt, man. That’s all I’m saying,” Clyde huffs.
“I know. I understand why you’re all worried and shit, but… Let’s just drop it, okay? I just want to chill out before we go party,” Craig insists. Clyde hesitates for a moment, but then he sits up and grabs the remote.
He picks one of those adult cartoons that Craig has never really found all that funny, but it’s enough to get his mind off of things.
Clyde’s right. If he does run into Tweek, he has no idea what he’s going to do. The thought of it almost makes him not want to go, but he’s more afraid of missing out. The hours pass, and as his high fades, he tries to force himself to come to terms with things. That’s all he can really do, isn’t it? Either he’s going to let Tweek freak him out so bad that it ruins his whole summer, or he can get the fuck over himself.
When Craig climbs into the passenger seat of Clyde’s car, he feels a bit better. They pick up Jimmy and they all crack jokes as they drive up to Tolkien’s house. There’s already a dozen cars outside, and as they near the front door they can already hear the music blaring. Clyde pushes the door open and they all step inside.
Right by the front door, everyone’s left their stuff. It’s a pile of purses and bags that they carefully step through before they get into the living room. The couches and chairs have been pushed to the edge of the room to give everyone ample space to dance and mingle in the middle. The music is so loud that Craig can feel the bass thumping in his chest.
“You guys finally made it!” Tolkien comes up to them, grinning as he shouts over the music. “C’mon, there’s plenty of booze in the kitchen.”
"F-Fellas, I think it's time for some go-good ol' fashioned shots," Jimmy says.
“Hell yeah!” Clyde cheers.
Craig laughs. They make their way into the kitchen. As Clyde pours them all generous shots, he thinks to himself that it’s going to be a good night. The pieces are all in place. Good people, good music, booze… He can do this.
He’s gonna get wasted and have the best night of his life.