𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆, 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒆

-5-

I wipe away my snot and tears hopefully for the final time tonight, and when I look up again, Craig is sorting out the music on his phone.

I think about thanking him, but it felt too cliché. Who thanks someone for a first date in this day and age? But the silence is killing me, that is, until I hear the truck's speakers. I look to the console and see that the song is Boys Don't Cry by The Cure, how very topical. Didn't think Craig really listened to 'goth' music, but maybe he and Stan have been hanging out more and shared music tastes or something.

"So, my house?" Craig's words break me out of thought, and when I process them, I smile.

"Absolutely."

The car is filled with a calm air, a small smile on my lips as Craig drives us home, music playing softly in the background. I look out of the window and into the trees as Craig drives out of the clearing and back to the main roads by Stark's Pond, trying to spot any wildlife in the tree line, unable to see anything before the forest ends and is replaced with snowy hills and scattered trees.

With the switch to boring scenery, I turn my attention to the inside of the truck, specifically the dark-haired boy at the wheel. One of the best, most law-abiding drivers I know, Craig's eyes are fixated on the road, and his fingers tap along to the rhythm of whatever song is playing now. Unlike most times, his tired expression has been replaced with a look that could only be described as happy, his eyes slightly squinted and the corners of his mouth upturned. It was a moment of lighthearted peace, something to be savored in a chaotic town like South Park.

I zone out listening to the sound of tires against the road, my eyes unfocusing on the mountains in the distance, merely big black shadows in a vast sea of darkness, only illuminated by the truck's headlights.

I'm pulled out of my trance when the truck stops moving and Craig pats my shoulder, glancing over me to make sure I understood before getting out of the car. Just as I'm about to open the door, Craig does it for me, outstretching his hand and offering his empty palm to help me get out of the truck. Despite being tall enough to hop out on my own perfectly fine, I indulge Craig, after all, I'm staying at his house, the least I could do is play along.

"Follow me, my love," he says, not letting go of my hand as he pulls me to the front doorstep.

"In case you forgot, I have been to your house before, Craig. I know where I'm going."

He just shakes his head and unlocks the front door, lowering his voice as he says, "Sure you know the general layout, but you've only been downstairs. Now you're my boyfriend so you get a full tour, less complete due to people and time constraints, of course."

So he takes me around the house's downstairs, refreshing my memory on where everything was located before we come to a stop at the foot of the stairs. Craig explains that for now he'll only show me the bathroom and his room, so he does just that.

Craig's house is cozy in comparison to mine, sure, but it's an average home you'd find in any town like ours, so there's no point in commenting on it. That is, until I get to his room. When we first walk in, Craig doesn't turn on the lights, instead gesturing to the ceiling on which are hundreds of glowing stars, randomly placed mostly, but I spot a few constellations around. When he does turn on the light, it's a tall, warm lamp situated in the corner of the room that casts playful shadows onto walls covered in posters of space and stars and Red Racer, not a single space left uncovered by Craig's touch.

On his desk is a cage for his guinea pig, Stripe, and on the floor next to that is a play pen for him. Turning my attention to the bed, it's covered in soft throw blankets, small pillows, and stuffed animals, most notably a seemingly growing frog collection. As I look around, Craig shuffles about, tidying up odds and ends, tossing clothes originally on the floor into his closet or moving pillows from the bed to a hanging egg chair situated by the window at the foot of his bed.

If I had to choose one place to stay for the rest of my life, it would be Craig's room, and in no way do I regret convincing him to let me stay the night.

"So..." he asks with an awkward smile, "what do you think?"

I understood how vulnerable Craig was in this moment, most people never got to enter his room, now he's showing it to a guy whose opinions matter greatly to him and opening himself up for criticism. The guy was brave, but when you have a room like this, who needs bravery?

"It's perfect, Craig. Really, it just feels like home. Thank you for letting me stay here." I was being so genuine tonight, it felt strange how much of an impact Craig and this whole 'love' thing were making on me.

He smiles as he lays on his bed, staring at the ceiling above him, limbs sprawled out across the whole bed. I walk towards him and sit on the floor at Craig's bedside, grabbing one of his hands to hold. Craig lets out a sigh, and I can tell it's out of content, a feeling I knew all too well from this night and this man.

"Suppose you need a place on the bed too, huh?" Craig asks, already scooting over to give me room and make himself more comfortable. Before I join him, I get up and turn off the lamp, returning the room to darkness interrupted only by stars and the screen of my battered and beat up phone lighting up with text after text from my parents asking where I was.

But that was a problem for another me, and the version of myself in the present moment with Craig just pulled him closer, entangling our arms and legs as we cuddled together. Knowing that we're both already drifting off, I kiss his forehead good night and whisper, "Thank you for today, Craig. I love you."

His breath is so steady that I assumed he'd already fallen asleep, a theory soon disproven when Craig whispers back, "I love you too, Kenny."