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Things never came easy for Tweek it seemed. Friends, money, love, and grades, none of it was simple for him. That was the focal point of his current distress.
He felt like he had been stuck at the table for hours, tears welling in his eyes, making it even more difficult for him to make out the math problem on the sheet. He was just thankful that it wasn’t a test, it stung always being the last person sitting there as one by one the other students rose and left leaving him and the frustrated teacher all alone.
It got awfully tiring being himself. When he thinks he has had enough disappointing himself, he always seems to find a new way of doing so. Like just yesterday he promised himself he was going to finally start getting his history grade back on track and then, like the dumb spaz he is, he left the work sheet on his desk.
He was just so ready to get the feeling of satisfaction that came when his teacher would smile and say a little “nice job” and maybe, just maybe, he’d feel a little proud of himself. But that never came, and she only huffed when she came around to collect it and he admitted that he forgot it at home, probably more used to this than not.
He was getting concerningly used to this look of disappointment when he failed yet again to do something that was expected of him. It happened the other night in the coffee shop when his dad had asked him to wipe down the counters only for him to knock over a cup of black coffee he had just poured for himself, effectively undoing all the work he had just done to clean up. It even happened this morning when Wendy was paired up with him for English and he could see the slight glower and the sigh she let out already geared up to explain the question to him because he doesn't understand.
Now he was here in the library when he should be out playing during recess. He’s in 5th grade now, it’s his last year with this luxury. He’s already been introduced to the concept of having different teachers for each subject although they came to his classroom, slowly but surely preparing him and his peers for the transition into how it would be for the next eight years of his education.
But he was falling behind, of course. So he was sent to the library to try and get back on track but yet again, he was failing miserably. Something in his mind kept long division from clicking in his brain the way it had for the other kids no matter if he paid attention or not.
It just seemed like he couldn’t do anything right. It made him feel utterly helpless.
He felt even more helpless when the wetness pooling in his eyes had become so plentiful it rolled down his cheeks and onto the worksheet, creating little splotches on the paper as the water made contact with it. The feeling that had him wasn’t dreadful, sinking panic or suffocating anxiety but more of a dirty mix of frustration and despair both directed at himself.
He dealt with these feelings the same way he dealt with most difficult things in his life; nimble fingers weaved their way into fine golden locs where they latched on and tugged to grant him a moment of reprieve away from his mind. He couldn’t stand to be himself sometimes, hunched over his half finished homework with tears in his eyes, and the pain from the tugging gave him a way to escape such shameful moments as these even if only for a moment.
In a battle between mental and physical harm, physicality seemed much less complex and daunting as thus the preferred option. In moments like these his hair pulling was more meditated than the impulsive action driven by anxiety; calculated tugs on the tendrils strong enough to send jolts of pain down his spine. He considered it a grounding technique of sorts.
Only when his body began to grow sore from the tension in his muscles and the prolonged period of time he sat here did he pick up his head. There, to his horror, he managed to make eye contact with Craig Tucker as he was entering the library.
It was horrific enough to witness this pathetic behavior himself, but the embarrassment increased tenfold seeing who walked in.This was probably the person he least wanted to see him in this state. Hell, he preferred Cartman at this rate. He must've seen his more than likely bloodshot eyes or quivering lip, because he basically made a B-line in his direction.
Tweek quickly dropped his head, hoping to pretend that he failed to notice him. He tried to glue his eyes to the page below him, tried to will himself to pay it any attention, but his heart was beating so fast he could practically hear it in his head.
“Babe.” A nasal voice asked from above him. Obviously, his plan didn’t work.
“Why are you here?” Tweek didn’t mean to be rude, though his tone sounded pointed. But he just couldn’t help but be slightly irritated that his latest breakdown had a witness.
“Because I had detention… also I didn’t see you at lunch.”
Much to Tweek’s chagrin, he let out an unintentional sniffle, “I just need to get some stuff done.”
Craig must’ve noticed his tear stained cheeks or the pathetic little stains on the paper because he put a sympathetic hand on his shoulder, squeezing a bit to communicate his support. He used his free hand to shift the sheet over to himself so he could scan it over, humming as he looked down on it.
If things never came easy to Tweek, everything came easy to Craig. Despite his near permanent resting bitch face everyone wanted to be his friend, he woke up handsome without needing to do any extra work but only got more gorgeous as he did, he had a line going out the door of people wanting a chance with him (Tweek included), and to top it all of he seemed to know everything about everything and never struggled with his school work.
Sleep even came easy to him! Tweek couldn’t help but be ripe with jealousy when Craig would be passed out cold, snoring contently curled up at his side while Tweek stared up at the ceiling counting sheep (his current record was 302).
Craig was lucky he never had to deal with these things. He was always so cool and confident, luck seemed to gravitate towards him and he was never the type to doubt himself because he had no reason to. And no one ever spoke down to him because they never would even dare and if they did, Tweek was sure Craig would just blow them away with the immense knowledge he seemed to have on everything.
“Do you need help?” Craig asked, tone completely flat. But Tweek couldn’t help but feel somewhat defensive, he didn’t want Craig’s pity and he didn’t need someone else to do it for him.
“No.” There’s a chance he wouldn’t ever be able to wrap his mind around it, but he rather fails in his solitude and ends up frustrated with himself than failing with Craig as a witness and having him left frustrated as well. That’s what always happened when his dad tried to teach him things, he ended up more frustrated than Tweek himself after the boy couldn’t seem to grasp the concept after the tenth time receiving an explanation.
Craig only shrugged after Tweek dragged the paper back over to himself to try fruitlessly to solve the problem stumping him again.
“I got this for you.” Craig said, pulling out a bag of cheddar sun chips and putting it on top of Tweek’s math sheet. “Why don’t you take a break.”
“I’m not hungry.” That wasn’t true, his belly was empty except for two cups of bitter black coffee courtesy of his mom, but he didn’t see himself as deserving of a snack or Craig’s kindness until he at least finished this paper.
“A break will be good for you. You’ve been staring at that for so long you probably have eye fatigue.” Craig said.
“I don’t understand your science speak.”
“Well, when you stare at something your eye lens contracts, but if you stare too long your eyes never have the chance to relax so it can be painful and difficult to focus.”
“Of course you’d know that.” Tweek whined, his fingers finding its way back into his hair to reach and pull and tug, “you know everything! You’re too smart and I’m too dumb! I’m never gonna get this Craig!”
Tweek hated to be defensive, at least if he was going to be stupid he could be one of those lovable, benevolent bimbo types. He already had the hair color for it. But he just couldn’t help it! He was tired and so close to giving up and just failing out and becoming homeless and living under a bridge strung out and begging for money. It isn’t fair!
“Who said you were dumb?” Carig said, looking at Tweek as if he had suddenly sprouted a second head.
“It’s just true, Craig. Everyone is thinking it. I’m three seconds away from failing math, I forgot my homework again, Wendy needed to explain what we were doing in english, I keep breaking shit and forgetting to do things at the shop, I have gym next and all the dumb meatheads are gonna yell at me because I suck at kickball; I can't do anything right!”
As if to only add to his shame, tears had started to slip from his eyes once again, falling onto the paper once again. He whipped his eyes with his sleeves, both to dry his features and to hide his face. But Craig’s hand never left his shoulder, now rubbing it in a soothing motion.
“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard you say.”
“Wow, thanks Craig.”
“Because..” Craig continued, despite Tweek’s bitter sarcasm, “you’re the coolest, most smartest person I know.”
“What?”
“Tweek you play three instruments, and well too! I had to quit the violin because I'm so bad at it, I was literally the last chair. Not only that but you know how to make, like, every type of coffee. I didn’t even know there was more than regular coffee and a latte before I met you. You can bake, you can box, you can act so well it’s almost scary…”
Tweek could only stare at him mystified.He didn't feel deserving of the other's patience and praise but God was thankful to have it.
“Um yeah,” Craig said, clearing his throat, “so don’t say stuff that’s not true, Tweek. Our math teachers sucks ass anyway, I have to practically teach myself everything on youtube.”
He didn't feel he deserved it as he walked him through his fourth panic attack of the week, or some long and winding rant, and certainly not when he couldn't get basic math through his thick skull. But Craig was always there, no matter how difficult it was, right by his side.
The worst part of it all is that Craig isn’t even really his boyfriend! They’ve just been doing all this as a charade for the past couple of months to keep the town happy so everyone could feel good for supporting the gay kids. They were just very, very, very close friends that held hands and cuddled from time to time.
The bell rang, prompting both parties to pack up their belongings though neither party seemed all too eager to leave.
“I have to go, my Dad said he’s gonna unplug the router if I get another detention this year.” Craig said regretfully, “but, um, you really should eat that. I spent like two bucks on that, and also I can hear your stomach rumbling.”
“Oh.” Tweek said a bit embarrassed and picked up the bag of chips. He could always count on Craig to look out for him.
“Also..” he started again, suddenly uncharacteristically nervous as he shifted his “why don’t you come over later tonight. We can do homework together or maybe just play games or something. Whatever you want.”
Tweek smiled for what felt like the first time today. “That sounds good Craig.”
The other boy nodded and rushed off to his next class before he could get in trouble for being late.
Being seen as capable was an entirely new situation Tweek was entirely too unfamiliar with. He had grown all too familiar with the condescension. He was used to slowly explaining concepts to him and holding his hand through any process because it was understood that he wasn’t competent enough to grasp it on his own.
He couldn’t be trusted with simple tasks, that’s what it seemed. His father was the only person who went out right and said but he knew what everyone was thinking. And, for the most part, he had accepted this to be the truth.
So it was really funny the way Craig seemed to look at him with those expectant eyes, like he was anticipating some result that would never come. He hated to let him down, the only person who ever seemed to believe in him.
But he’d try, if not for himself, for Craig. He still couldn’t shake the feeling that he wasn’t as smart or as capable as the other kids, it would take a little more than kind words and a shoulder rub to fix years of insecurity. But he never regarded his talents as anything impressive and it truly did feel good to hear someone being impressed by it.
Either way, he was more than excited to go to his house later. He was thinking they could play Mario Kart, he was way better at it than Craig and he felt like he deserved the confidence boost tonight.