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You learn a lot of things growing up in this godforsaken mountain town. You learn that aliens are real, that your Christmas poo is a sentient piece of shit, and that your fourth-grade teacher is a raging, psychotic bitch. But the most important lesson, the one I had to learn the hard way, is this: you don't pick a fight with Craig Tucker. Not because he'll kick your ass—he might, but that’s not the point. You don’t do it because the guy is a fucking bisexual black hole of chaos, and he will methodically, and with a deadpan expression, destroy everything you care about.
And he did it to me. All because I told him his chullo hat was a cheap knock-off of Stan's. That was it. A stupid, throwaway comment in the lunch line. He just stared at me with that blank, "I'm so over this" look, didn't even say anything. I thought that was the end of it. Fucking idiot. That’s me. I’m the fucking idiot.
Two days later, things were actually looking up for me. I’d started going out with Rebecca, a new girl who’d just moved here from Denver. She was smart, she thought my rants about social injustice were "passionate," and she hadn't yet realized our town was a magnet for every conceivable disaster known to man. It was nice. For forty-eight whole hours, it was nice.
I was supposed to meet her at Stark's Pond after school. She wasn’t there. I figured she was still at school, maybe at her locker. The hallways were mostly empty, which was weirdly unsettling. I heard some noise coming from the boys' bathroom down the hall and I don’t know why, but I went to check it out. Maybe I thought it was Cartman clogging a toilet with a stolen cheesecake again. I wish it was.
I pushed the door open. The sound wasn’t a clogged toilet. It was the wet, sloppy sound of kissing, punctuated by little gasps. And there they were. Rebecca, my girlfriend of two days, was pushed up against the grimy tiled wall, her skirt hitched up around her waist. And Craig Tucker was between her legs, his hand shoved down her underwear, his mouth latched onto hers. They didn't even stop when I walked in. They just kept going, like I was just some random third-grader who’d wandered in to take a piss.
"Rebecca? What the fuck?"
She finally pulled her face away from Craig’s, breathing heavily. She looked at me, then back at Craig, then back at me, a little smirk playing on her lips. "Oh. Hey, Kyle."
Craig just pulled his hand out from her pants, his movements slow and deliberate. He didn't say a word. He just looked straight at me, his eyes half-lidded and utterly devoid of emotion, and then, very slowly, he raised his right hand and flipped me the bird.
"We're over, by the way," Rebecca said, as if she were telling me the time. "Craig's just... cooler. More my speed."
I just stood there, my mouth hanging open, my brain short-circuiting. I was supposed to be yelling, screaming, maybe throwing a punch. But I couldn't move. Craig just gave her ass a patronizing pat, zipped up his jeans, and walked past me, brushing my shoulder as he left. He didn't even look at me again. The message was clear. I win.
I stumbled home, my mind a fucking mess of anger and humiliation.I’m pissed, obviously. Heartbroken? Maybe a little, but mostly just pissed. I mean, two days isn’t long enough to get that attached, but still, it stings. The first thing I wanted to do was call Stan. He’d know what to say. He’d get just as pissed off as me, call Craig an asshole, and we’d go throw rocks at his house or something. That’s what super best friends do. But he didn't answer his phone. Which was weird. He’d been kind of distant for the past few days, ever since my stupid argument with Craig, actually. Always had some lame excuse. "Gotta help my dad with... a thing." Or "Sharon wants me home early." Fucking bullshit, all of it. He should have been with me.
The next day, the fury was still simmering. I hadn't seen Stan at the bus stop. I couldn't take it anymore. I skipped first period and went straight to his house. I needed my best friend. I didn't even bother knocking, just walked right in like I always do.
"Stan?" I yelled, heading up the stairs. "Stan, you are not gonna fucking believe what that asshole Tucker did—"
I stopped cold in the doorway of his bedroom.
The words died in my throat. My brain, which had just started to reboot from the bathroom incident, shut down completely. Blue screen of death. Total system failure.
Because there, on Stan’s bed, was Craig. He was on his back, his jeans pooled around his ankles, his legs hooked over Stan's shoulders. And Stan... my super best friend, Stan... was on top of him. Between his legs. He was fucking him. There’s no other way to say it. He was deep inside him, his movements rhythmic and hard, his face buried in the crook of Craig's neck. The whole room smelled like sweat and sex.
For a second, they didn't see me. The only sound was the creaking of the bed and their breathing. Then, Craig’s head lolled to the side. His blank, bored eyes met mine.
And a slow, smug, fucking victorious smirk spread across his face.
He didn't flip me off this time. He didn't have to. His eyes said it all. He reached up a lazy hand and patted Stan's back, a gesture that was both possessive and mocking. "Hey, Stan," he said, his voice a low, breathy pant. "Looks like your... friend is here."
Stan froze. He pulled his head up, his eyes wide with panic and guilt as he saw me standing there, completely broken in his doorway. "Kyle! Oh, fuck... Dude, this isn't... I can explain."
But I couldn't hear him. I couldn't hear anything over the roaring in my ears. All I could see was Craig's triumphant expression. He had taken my girlfriend. And now he had taken my best friend. He had looked at my life, picked out the two most important people to me at that moment, and just... took them. Effortlessly. All over a stupid fucking hat.
I just backed away, shaking my head. I didn't say a word. I turned and ran, down the stairs and out the door, the image of Stan inside of Craig burned into my fucking retinas forever.
You don't fuck with Craig Tucker. He'll fuck your girlfriend. And then, just to make sure you really get the message, he'll let your best friend fuck him right in front of you.