Wow, this is gonna be my first multi-chapter creek fic. Ever.
Let's see how long I can do this without fucking up the plot and then slowly drop this story ;u;
Tweek spun the dial of his locker while precariously clutching the stack of books and a metal canister of coffee tightly to his chest. Frankly, he was glad his mom had enough time to drive him to school this morning so early. The chances of getting into a car crash minimized on some level because the only people who come inside the school early were certain teachers and students that needed to make up for missing assignments and test; as well as those over-achievers that never finished their large surplus of homework the night before. Once he was able to pry his rusty, green locker open, Tweek placed his miscellaneous fiction novels on the shelf, he slammed the door shut; emitting a loud slam that echoed down the empty hallways. Tweek didn't need any of his "required textbooks" because for god sake's he was a damn senior with a severe case of senior-itus. The only classes that even required pen and notebook paper were his English AP class and French 4 (H) class.
Tweek dropped backwards to let his back hit the wall of lockers and slid down to a sitting position so he could start working on his homework in a comfortable manner. Due to his poor drinking habits, multiple medications, gnomes who have nothing better to do then go through kid's underwear drawer and snatching them away to make a profit, and a terrible curse known as "genetics", his sleeping schedule is far from what a doctor or even the average teenager would recommend. He was able to solve the gnome problem by going commando, but it didn't give him anymore time to sleep really. He would be so restless during the night and early hours of the morning but once the day starts the exhaustion hits him like a ton of brick falling from a ten story building. The sporadic, unpredictable "crashes" tend to leave the blonde little time or energy to get any of his assignments during the school day. Fortunately for him, his French and English classes were the first two he has in the morning so Tweek is able to put the last bit of energy into them and then pass out in his third period class.
Since Tweek took all his required classes in the previous three years, most of his classes this year consisted of art, sociology/psychology, and gym; which were all taught by the most laid-back teachers in the South Park County. He planned his high school career as meticulously as possible during the last few months of eighth grade. At the time, he heard of a strange disease called "senior-itus", and he freaked the shit off of his rocker. He didn't exactly know what it was but it sounded like something that would cause him to drop out of high school and quickly age him into a wrinkly, old hobo. He didn't want to be a hobo! Hobos couldn't afford coffee or those worn out sweaters he buys at the thrift stores he shops at sometimes. Of course, he doesn't tell anyone that part of his paranoid theory because people would call him a poor fuck; even though his parent's business brought in a lot of money. Looking back now, Tweek realized those months of horrible stress and terror were a waste because he still had a severe case of that disease.
For the next forty-five minutes, Tweek alternated between sipping his dark coffee, working on his essays, and switching the songs on his ipod. He sighed in happy content when he finally managed to complete all the work with a final sweep of his pen. Working on tedious homework in the quiet hallways of school in the early hours of the morning was oddly relaxing for the short blond. It was always unnerving when a schoolmate or a teacher would have their gaze linger on him. He knew it was a rare sight for anyone to see Tweek Tweak relaxed and calm, but it could hardly prevent the paranoid thoughts from entering into his mind, such as those peers were actually plotting to find out his very weakness and destroy him from the inside out and break him down to the point he would be forced to be stay in a mental hospital for the rest of his life.
At that point of any paranoid idea, he stops and realizes how ridiculous that sounds because if someone were to actually go that far in a complicated plan, that means they have to have some level of interest in him and to Tweek that was just out-right ludicrous.
Tweek was about to gather all his writing utensils and sheets of homework into his backpack till a pair of lean arms was wrapped firmly around his lanky form and lifted him off the ground to an awkward bear hug.
Tweek couldn't help but flail and make strange-baby animal-like noises and it didn't help his assailant was spinning him around in circles all the while that person was still hugging/mugging him.
The blond was about to elbow the fucker till he was placed down on his feet and turned around to actually realize it was his goddamn idiot of a friend.
"Goddamn it Kenny, don't do that!"
"It's not my fault you don't keep your guard up!" Kenny joked with a shit-eating grin.
"I keep my guard up!"
"Those flailing shrieks are not the sort of reaction you would get from someone who 'keeps his guard up'"
Tweek was about to 'playfully' punch Kenny on his shoulder till the hooded boy quickly gathered the materials and handed them over to the fuming coffee fiend.
Tweek mumbled, "Thanks" and quickly retracted the statement when Kenny ruffled his hair when the he saw the angry blond pouting.
"For an angry piece of shit, you can be so fucking adorable, dude."
"Fuck you, Kenny."
"That sounds awesome. Mind if I drag Token in for a threesome?"
"Why Token? He's as straight as a ruler and I doubt Red would enjoy the idea anymore than I do."
The two started walking down the halls toward their first period classrooms. Tweek didn't realize how much time had passed because nearly the entire student population was starting to flow in through the front entrance.
"Ohhh so Tweek Tweak wouldn't mind a ménage au trois with two attractive young men if one of them wasn't str-
Tweek managed to slap the raunchy punk behind his head to prevent him from speaking anymore of the lewd rambling. Too bad he didn't realize his bony hands and nearly uncontrollable strength were a deadly combination that nearly knocked the poor sap to the floor. Good thing the swift fucker caught the handle of a nearby locker before face planting onto the linoleum.
"Um, ow. What the fuck, dude?"
"It's not my fault the town's symbol is so out of shape he can't even handle a slap over the head from a scrawny kid."
"Up yours, dude" Kenny laughed, giving Tweek a shove to the lockers nearby.
"You wish" Tweek said while flipping the bird to the lanky kid's general direction. Even though the two blondes have been good friends for a long time, it was still hard for Tweek to know whether or not Kenny is joking about these lewd jokes between them or if he's half serious. Kenny was predictably unpredictable and that scared him to some degree. Tweek decided not to put too much thought into this subject when Kenny pointed out they passed their respective homerooms.
Tweek turned to face his friend with a nervous look with a hint of skepticism. "Kenny, you cannot be telling me you're going to first period this early?"
Kenny shrugged his shoulders and smiled in his signature shit-eating grin of his. "Stan texted me just now, saying I need to go to homeroom and so he can bitch about his relationship problems."
Tweek was clearly unimpressed by this statement. "Fine Kenny, you go off and be Stan's marriage counselor while I'm forced to listen to my English teacher ramble on about the blue curtains being an important symbol or some shit in the story."
"I thought it was a blue hat."
"Not for this story Kenny. Either way, both of those things don't mean shit."
Kenny ruffled his hair one more time before he quickly teleported to the chemistry lab to avoid Tweek's counter attack in the form of a shove to the lockers.
Even though Tweek can easily tell Kenny this sort of stuff, he would never have the balls to say it to Mrs. Peterson's face because she'll just throw a bitch-rant and then Wendy will throw a desk at the both of them and- oh god his worst fear of a painful death would become reality.
It would just simply be better for Tweek and the rest of the students in Mrs. Petterson's class to shut their throat and let the bitch overanalyze a four hundred page book like a normal English teacher would do.