Creek <3

Stay with me (ii)

(note: idk what day of the week it is in this story anymore so pretend it's Sunday 😪)

I called Stan and hastily made some excuse.

"Hey man, you can't come over today because my sister's having a play date with Karen."

"Sucks dude, tell Kyle I said hi though, and that I love him."

"Ew. But whatever I'll let him know. Thanks for understanding."

"Yeah sure, text me later and let me know how he's doing."

"Will do, cya tomorrow."

"Cya!"

(note 2: i also dk where Craig's parents are 😨)

I hung the phone up, glancing at Kyle. He'd curled up on the sofa, eyes closed, asleep again. I slumped next to him, turning the TV volume down and putting a random DVD on. His head rested on my thigh, making me tense. No matter, I draped my arm over his torso protectively.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught movement outside the window. But when I double checked, nothing was there. I brushed of the sense of unease and focused on the film.

Nothing bad can happen if nothing was there right?

Tweek's POV
My heart shattered into a million pieces. No, a million wasn't enough. Billions of pieces. I felt a lump rise in my throat, the salty tears drop silently down my face, felt my hands grasp my hair and pull hard.

A picture.
Of Craig.
And Kyle.
Together.

Curled up on Craig's sofa, in his house, like a couple.

The number who had sent it to me was anonymous, I couldn't trace it back. The image was captioned: 'Come one, come all'

I dropped my phone on the floor, shaking. My breathing became laboured, I squeezed my eyes shut. From somewhere deep within me, I let out a gut wrenching sob. I didn't even know I was able to make a sound so despairing.

I wrapped myself in blankets and made a cave in my bed, crying and reaching. My parents entered and exited multiple times, bringing me drinks, asking me if I was ok, saying goodnight. After a while, the crying stopped, I drifted to sleep, falling through endless dreams of me and Craig's memories and the pain in my chest.

Needless to say, I didn't go to school on Monday. Or Tuesday. Or Wednesday, Thursday or Friday. I refused all visitors, including Craig. He begged and yelled and screamed for me. I wouldn't see him, I couldn't. I spent my time eating, drinking, crying or sitting in the shower wondering where I went wrong.

The number that had text me kept sending me pictures, Craig with his head on his desk in school, crying, with his friends, with... Kyle...

I wanted to block them, to stop the pictures, to forget. But everytime my finger lingered over the block button, everytime I knew I should, I hesitated.

It was painful to see this, yes, but it was my only insight to the outside world right now. I needed to know.

Instead, I sent the number to Stan. And asked him to figure out who it was.