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47

Craig and Clyde returned to the table a little bit later. Craig sat across from me as Clyde asked Token to "help him with something really, really important."

Craig and I didn't say much, Craig was nursing his fourth or fifth drink that night and I was sipping on my third. I was blurring the line of tipsy and drunk in my mind, and Craig was definitely not doing as well as I was.

I swear if I try to talk to him, about anything, it just won't go well. I'm stupid normally, being drunk doesn't make me suddenly smarter and I know that.

Craig however doesn't seem to care if I'm going to be even stupider than usual, because after a few drinks he gets a lot more chattier than he usually is.

"Tweek," I look up at him, "Do you think those two went to bang in the bathroom?"

I choke on my drink. Coughing as I wipe at my face with a napkin on the table and Craig laughs. "W-What?"

"Y'know," Craig tries to wiggle his eyebrows but it looks more like he's having a stroke, "Maybe Clyde big emergen... emergency was that he needed a blowie?"

"Craig!" I say laughing slightly, "I don't th-think they're like that."

Craig snorts and knocks back the rest of his drink, "Yeah? Why's that?"

I shrug, "They ju-just seem like..." where was I going with this, "...dude-Bros."

Craig laughs really hard and I smile at him. He should laugh more, I really like his laugh. "Dude-Bros? Aren't those the guys with the most repressed homosexuality?"

I shrug again, "Is Stan gay?"

Craig gives me a look, "You're joking, right?"

I look down. "Uh... no?" I scratch lightly at my wrist feeling nervous and woozy.

Craig snorts, "He's hella gay for... uh fuck... what's the Ginger's name?"

"K-K...Ky-" the room spins slightly and I can't remember his name either. "I don't r-remember," I laugh.

Craig stares at me as I laugh and once I stop I gaze into his eyes nervously and he smiles warmly at me. "You have a nice voice. Why don't you talk more often?"

I blush, "I uh... I don't have... I'll st-stop, I'm sorry-"

"What are you sorry for?" He leans forward and places his hand on mine next to my glass, "You have nothing to be sorry for..."

I stare at our touching hands, my face a thousand degrees. "Craig-"

He leans forward, tilting his head slightly, "How long have you had freckles?" He squints at me, "I never noticed... uh... them."

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