Hiraeth Of The Heart (Tweek X Craig)

Chapter 15, Partners in Crime

Craig and I had long left the school and made our way to the road to my house.  For the most part, I hadn't talked at all.

Craig, on the other hand, had been talking since we left the school.  Most of it was about his friends, how much he hated school, or even how his sister is, as quoted, a snot-nosed brat'.  I just nodded my head and listened carefully.  He followed close behind me as I kicked up dust with each of my steps.  I really didn't understand why he was telling me so much, but I didn't protest it. Finally, we reached the street that our houses were on.  This is when Craig yanked my elbow into his hand to stop me from walking.  I turned around, confused, and a bit scared.

"Hey."  He spoke with dull eyes.

"What?"  I responded.  Letting my lashes flutter under his gaze.  Also taking note that this is the first I had responded to any of his conversing attempts since we had left the school.

"Come with me."

"Go with you where?"  I furrowed my brows

Craig pulled my elbow towards him as he began walking on the sidewalk next to the road to a driveway ahead of us.  Upon further inspection, I took notice of the critical detail that this was Craig's driveway.  My eyes widened a bit as I pulled away from his grip and stopped my feet in their tracks.  He stopped as well and turned towards me with a concerned look.

"What's wrong?"  He asked in his usual nasled voice.

"Why are we going to your house?  What are you trying to do?  Can't we just go home??"  Of course, I was concerned.  This kid had already gotten me into enough panic attack causing situations.  Craig blinked at the barrier of questions just before jumping over them like a crack in the sidewalk.

"Trust me. It'll be fine."  He slurred it through his heavy flow of eye contact.

Craig fully spun around in my direction and softened his gaze.  Gently grabbing the bottom of my shirt on both sides and pulling me in his direction as he began walking backwards into his driveway.  He seemed to tower above me in an unsettling way.  A way that had trouble written all over it.

I looked him directly into his frayed blue eyes.  What a jerk!  He was doing it again.  Pulling me into something I don't want to be a part of. He made eye contact with me, I assumed he was waiting for a sign of approval.  I really couldn't help it.  I must be a massive pushover.  I let out a deep sigh.  So deep that I felt it arise from the deepest and darkest part of me and exhale into the air.  I hoped he'd inhale it; I had this outlandish idea that after he did, he'd automatically be able to read my mind.  After that?  Well then, he'd hear me when I internally whined that I wanted to go home.  I couldn't believe that I was just going to let him get away with roping me in once again.

Craig spun back around, letting me get a widespread view of his back muscles twisting with each step, like cogwheels working a machine.  He let one hand find its way into his black jean's pocket, and the other remained to cling to my creased shirt.  The absence of knowing what he was doing was only building the tension in the air, making it heavy in my lungs.  So heavy that it felt like I couldn't get it out.

Craig let go of my shirt and carefully approached a tatty red truck sitting in his driveway, slipping his fingers against the rough surface as he walked around it.  It was rather small, looking to hold years of history behind it's scratched doors.  As Craig examined the vehicle, my attention was grabbed by a window on the house that mounted at the end of the small driveway.  I watched the tattered window carefully, suspicious of what might be inside.  The curtains around the inside portion of the window began fumbling in place.  I felt saliva build up in my throat.