The Closet

It was during lunch. The lights were off, even though there were no windows in the janitor's closet. The space was tight and cramped, full of cleaning supplies and other various equipment, and it barely fit the two boys inside.

They both sat cross legged on the floor, with brooms and mops digging into their sides and thighs. The air stank of nail polish and acetone, making the two feel dizzy.

Craig was taking out the green nail polish, it was his favorite for its satisfying sheen and mild glittery shine. He began applying it to his left hand with impressive precision, even though he couldn't see.

"Oh jeez, green again? Why won't you try any other colours?" Butters asked, even though he was using the orange nail polish, as always.

"I didn't ask for your opinion," Craig rolled his eyes, then gave Butters an unimpressed glare, that he knew the other didn't see.

"I'm just saying you could use some variety," he said defensively, then under his breath, "Mr. Grumpy Pants."

They fell into a silent silence after that, only the sound of their breathing and people walking outside in the hall could be heard.

Craig started thinking about everything he hated about Butters. He hated his stupid hair, he looked like he was balding already. He hated his stupid cyan jacket, which he wore everyday. Craig could smell the disgusting musk of it from five miles away. He hated his stupid way of peeing, why did he have to pull his pants all the way down and his shirt all the way up to take a piss. He hated his stupid-

Butters sneezed, interrupting Craig's hateful thoughts. But it also sprouted brand new ones. He's just decided he hated his stupid sneezing, he sounded like a kitten getting run over by a car on the highway. He wondered how anyone human could even make such a sound.

Craig finished painting his left hand, hopefully he didn't smudge the polish, he couldn't really see well considering they were sitting in a pitch black janitor's closet with no light source.

He could hear Butters clearing his throat, and he looked up at the sound. He was met with only darkness, but he knew the other boy was there and that he wanted to get his attention. His assumption was proven right when Butters started speaking.

"Look, fella, I ain't want no trouble. I just thought this would be a nice little idea, since we're both.. y'know..."

"Both what?" Craig asked, even though he knew the answer already.

"Oh, jeez, don't make me say it out loud.."

"No, come on. Both what?"

Butters was silent for a while, obviously uncomfortable by the topic, even though he was the one that brought it up in the first place.

Before Craig could nag him again to speak up, the door was opening, but couldn't fully be pushed open because of Butters' small frame blocking the door's path.

They heard a deep voice say, "M'kay, what's going on here, m'kay?

He wondered who it was.

Butters scooted out of the way for the door to open fully. Mr. Mackey stepped in with his hands on his hips, "Boys, what are you doing in the janitor's closet, m'kay?"

The blonde boy looked up at him with wide eyes and said, "Mr. Mackey! Oh, jeez, we were just hanging out and painting our nails here..."

"..in the janitors closet?" Mr. Mackey asked.

"Yeah," Craig replied stoically.

Mr. Mackey stared at them for a few moments, then started speaking, "M'kay, well, be sure to get to class when the bell rings, m'kay. And turn on the lights in here, you're gonna lose your eyesight, m'kay,"

He turned around and left, shutting the door behind him.

It was silent for a bit, only the sound of Butters' finger tapping on the acetone bottle could be heard. Craig was surprised to say the least, he was sure Mr. Mackey would shoo them out of the closet.

He heard Butters scramble around for something, and he knew it was his phone when he saw a bright light come from his corner of the closet. Butters had turned on his phone flashlight, and was shining it right into Craig's face. It was now bright in the room.

"Craig, buddy, you can't avoid talking about it forever. I brought you in here for a reason," Butters mumbled.

"I just don't want to talk about it. You can't force me to."

"I know I can't force you, but I'm sure it would make you feel better if you talked about it!" Butters sounded really hopeful, like he really just wanted to help Craig feel better about whatever was bothering him.

Craig ignored him and went to grab the green nail polish bottle again. He unscrewed the cap, and started painting his right hand. It was a little flimsy considering he was right handed, but if he managed to paint his nails in the dark, he could manage anything.

Butters watched him for a while with a weird look on his face, but he eventually gave it up and put his phone down, then started painting his own nails again.

A few minutes of silence passed, only the sound of the nail polish bottles clacking from time to time. The air in the closet was filled with a strong chemical smell once again. Craig was getting frustrated with the silence, frustrated with Butters. He found it annoying how Butters was so eager to get Craig to talk about what was bothering him, when he could just talk himself. He decided to speak up.

"Y'know that you can talk about it too, right? I'm not the only one here with a secret,"

He didn't get a response, only a quiet huff as the other boy silently continued painting his ring finger.

As soon as the tension in the room started to relax, the bell rang. Butters jumped to his feet, but then crouched again and quickly got a cotton pad to put acetone on. He scrubbed the nail polish off and spoke in a hurry, "Oh, hamburgers. Sorry Craig, but I have to get to class. We could meet again soon to talk if you wanna," and before Craig could answer he had already grabbed his phone and left out the door.

Craig was left in the dark