chapter thirty-five.

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Craig - Monday Evening

6:48 pm.

The dance is in 1 and half fucking hours and I'm nervous as fuck. Nervous to live up to the standards they expect from us and the standard I want myself to reach for Kenny. My suit hangs in my closet as I stare at my hands, having no idea what to do. I can't get ready now, there's no point. Stan opens my door, cautiously looking in as I sit there in silence, "Hey douche," He sits down next to me on my bed, "What's up?"

Squeezing my mouth shut, I look up at my suit, "Nothing," I say quietly, "Just thinking," Stan nods, staring in front of himself as well. For the first time in a while, we have no idea what to say.

"Hey, I have an idea, how about we all have a massive hungover sleepover, we invite the guys, we ask Nichole, Wendy, Bebe, Heidi, whatever to join us as well. Just so we can have a little fun with each other?"

Not answering, I stand up, running my hands through my hair, "I need to take a shower," I say, blinking slowly.

"Okay, so you're just not going to answer?" Stan flops onto his back, "I know you're nervous, everyone is as well. If you want space, you can just tell me." He stands up again, walking past me, not even trying to stop him, he walks out. The ringing in my ears makes me feel dizzy.

Get yourself together, Craig, he's- he's like your best friend, your roommate, the younger brother you never had, fucking hell.

Placing my hand on the handle of my closet, "Wait-" I call after Stan, who pops his head back into my room, "I'm sorry, your idea is pretty neat, we should do that after we all get batshit drunk," Stan smiles as he flops back onto my bed.

"Thanks," He runs his hands through his hair, "I heard about Leo being alive, which is fucking weird since I thought he died," Tensing, I grab my suit from my closet, "Fucking hell, Butters Stotch, that's been a while."

Chuckling, I shake my head, "Do you remember you and Butters? Damn, Stutters was a really weird period in my life," Stan facepalms, "Or remember when people thought Cartman and Butters were dating?"

"Jesus Christ, they had the worst ship name."

Hanging my suit on my chair, I look at him, "Says you, you and Kyle are Style."

"Okay, Crenny," He responds, "Your name isn't as bad as-"

Shuddering, we look at each other, "Creek."

"Bendy, Stendy, Bunny," He names a couple, "Oh fuck! What about Tyde? Byde? Oh and the worst one- Staig," Grimacing, I look away.

Thinking of a couple, I crack my knuckles, "K2, Stanman, Crutters when people thought I fucked Butters but we were like 12 when he left, Twenny, Twutters, Cryde, the whole fucking shit, I swear to God people have the weirdest names."

Scratching his chin, Stan looks at me, "Which ones happened?"

"Byde, Bendy, Stendy, Bunny, Crenny, Style, Stutters and Creek, I think," I cough, looking at my phone, "I think we need to start getting ready, Nichole has to be there 30 minutes early because she's student council."

Saluting, Stan says bye before leaving my room. Stepping into my bathroom, I take a quick "life-contemplating" shower before shaving the minimal facial hair I have. Drying my hair and my body, I look in the mirror.

Running my hands through my hair, I apply a tiny bit of gel. Knowing where my suit is gonna sit, I cover my very obvious and very dark hickeys on my neck with my emergency concealer that I managed to steal from Tricia. 

Fuck me- I am an asshole, putting on my pants and dress shirt, I move out of my bathroom to put on the rest of my fit. Heading down the stairs after being done with getting dressed, Tricia applauds me, "Wow, finally you're wearing something else than a blue sweatshirt."

Flipping her off, I walk to the guestroom, without knocking I walk in. Stan's tying the laces of his shoes as he looks up at me, "Damn, looking sharp," I compliment him.

"You too, douchebag."

"Let's go."

( suit and dress ref. next page! )

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