Chapter Text
“Craig, you don’t just go to California because you want to go to California. Nobody seriously wants to live there. They only have popular shit because the state’s fucking BROKE! B-R-O-K-E. Look, raise your hand if you’d want to live in California if they didn’t have hot chicks and Hollywood pornstars.”
A collective silence falls over their table, everyone exchanging glances.
“See? I don’t think Craig would go regardless of the hot chicks cause he’s fuckin’ gay, but that just proves my point! Nobody in the right mind would actually live in California. Shit’s expensive, even if you’re rich those taxes are gonna eat you, like LITERALLY! It’s always been eat the rich, eat the rich, and in California? It very much is.” Clyde pauses for a moment, looking like the oxygen supply in his brain had been cut. He takes an inhale of air, and everyone at their lunch table looks at him like he’s escaped the mental ward.
“Dude, I literally only said that California’s pretty cool.”
Clyde’s angry response could only be seen mouthed as the bell rang and the teachers started shooing people out.
Dumping his tray into the bin, Craig grabs a few notebooks for Political Science and Computer Programming. He didn’t need them for either elective, but he liked to keep a few on him to doodle.
Before he knows it, he’s squeezing himself between a dude and his chick who are making out to get through the door. He pushes the two aside, receiving a ‘Fuck you’ from the guy.
It’s not like the dude can do anything because it’s not like Craig’s short enough to get his ass beat. He’s pretty skinny and long-limbed, but he was tall. Having become the tallest in the grade since his growth spurt in middle school, which was followed by Stan Marsh holding a close second.
The room is bright; the blinds are all flipped wide open. The teacher for Political Science is cool, but god, did the dude hate vampires or something?
The room is empty except for the nerds who head to class earlier than the rest, (e.g.: Kyle Brofloski) so he gets free reign on seats. Deciding on the middle row, (he was never one for the back) he watches as the seats are slowly filled as students scramble to class during the last two minutes of passing period.
After the bell rings, the chatter slowly dies down as the teacher passes out worksheet packets.
As soon as Craig gets a paper, he scans it, scribbles a few quick answers, and flips to the next page. Political Science is probably his easiest class by far; there's maybe a ratio of two lectures to one day of a worksheet or a test. All he has to do is to listen during the lectures and write a few notes and he’s acing every test.
Around 20 minutes pass before he’s done and turning the packet in. Besides himself, only Kyle is done, but he’s a total nerd.
Halfway through the class, the quiet chatter in the classroom is interrupted by Kenny McCormick, who pushes the door open a little too hard and slams it against the wall.
Kenny mouths an ‘oops’ to the teacher and hands him a pass. He grabs a packet and scans the room for an available seat.
Two options,
- Craig Tucker.
- Some kid who isn’t even popular enough to have his name known.
Spoiler : He’s picking Craig Tucker.
“Come here often?” Kenny whispers to Craig as he slides into his chair.
“What?” Craig's face scrunches in confusion.
“I need to borrow a pencil.”
It’s straightforward and Craig finds it a little amusing. He tosses Kenny a pencil from his backpack and receives a quick “Thanks.”.
Craig knows Kenny, they’ve shared classes from time to time, and spoken maybe at most a few sentences to each other, but they’re not very buddy-buddy, and other than having been in elementary and middle school together, (like most of the kids in South Park) they might as well be strangers.
Kenny’s pretty popular, he’s dated girls here and there, a few guys too or so he’s heard. Kenny’s tall, maybe a few inches shorter than Craig himself, skinny, blond, and a huge asshole.
Craig might not know Kenny personally or anything, but there have been way too many breakup posts about him, usually something along the lines of:
“thanks @kenmccormmy1ck 4 months for a fuck? screw u, hope u kys.”
Usually, he cared little about these breakup posts, but Bebe dated Kenny for a whole 6 months and Craig got a front-row seat to her hysterical post-breakup. Yet, for a guy with such a bad reputation, he sure could pull. In the last 7 months, Kenny’s had at least 3 girls, each one lasting only two months, a little longer if they were lucky.
Craig spends the rest of the class period staring blankly at Kenny’s paper, watching him write sloppy answers, crossing out and erasing, even pulling out the whiteout when he’d gotten mad at an answer and started straight up scribbling on the whole question.
Craig’s mind is blank. It’s not like he’s got anything more productive to do, but staring at a dude who wants to fight his paper probably isn’t the best productivity enhancer.
Finally, he snaps out of his little bubble of nothingness and finally stops ogling at Kenny(‘s paper), and unsticks his head from his desk.
BRRRIIING!
Suddenly, everyone is grabbing their bags and leaving. Where the hell did his 30 minutes go?
Picking up his bag and stuffing his stuff inside, he feels a few taps on the shoulder. When he looks over, Kenny’s offering his pencil back to him, which is now a fragmented stub.
“...You can keep it.”
“ Sweet , thanks,” Kenny says, blowing him a little fake kiss as he walks out of the room.
Lingering back for a little, Craig straightens his Chullo and pushes his way back into the tight hallway.
Fuck passing period, dude.