𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬

Chapter Ten

The bell rang for Gym time and all the boys began to gather near the door to the locker room to change into their workout clothes. Once the doors opened, a small stampede formed as restless students rushed in, carelessly stepping over others' shoes.

Craig hated P.E.

The way sweaty shoulders slapped against his in narrow spaces between rows of lockers, the way a bunch of meat-heads would go out hooting the score, bitching out whenever their side was losing – Craig hated it all. So it was no surprise that he often played hooky this period, rarely coming in for attendance.

"Ha – Dick Tucker's coming inside for once," Cartman laughs at his witty innuendo. (NOTE: Think of that line in the naughtiest way possible – There are two things you should look out for and maybe you'll get what Cartman's insinuating.)

"Took you long to think that one up, fat-ass?" Craig asked with a bored expression, slipping off his hat and blue sweater with one hand as the other flipped Cartman the bird.

As the morbidly obese Cartman begin to stomp away, Tweek merely sat on the bench, his arms resting over his knees. His back is slightly hunched forward as his head continued to hang limply, being a little tired for once. "Ngh, c-can you give me some change for a five? N-Need a fucking coffee…" Tweek muttered.

Craig, in all his shirtless glory, set down his sweater over the bench and began to search in his backpack for his wallet. His locker was on the bottom row, Craig having to lean down due to his height. His hat falls to the floor, Craig muttering in mild distaste. When he bent over to pick it up, Tweek couldn't help but stare at the way the flesh stretched accordingly to each muscle's movements. Craig was tall and somewhat gangly, his stomach being lean and pale with faint dips around the abdominal region. His obsidian hair was swept back in a disheveled manner, the bangs framing his callous face appropriately. When he straightened his back, clutching his hat in his hands, he caught Tweek staring at him, "What?"

It took Tweek a while to realize Craig was talking to him, "H-Huh? Gah, w-what did you say?"

He stares emotionlessly before facing away and shaking his head, "… Never mind," Craig continues to search in his backpack for the wallet, his hat flung over his bare shoulder. He slips out five individual dollar bills from it, handing it over to Tweek, who in turned handed him a five dollar bill from the pocket of his sweatpants.

"Ack – S-See you in the soccer field, Craig," Tweek said as he dashed away to the nearest coffee machine. Craig changed into his P.E. clothes. Slipping his blue sweater back over his shirt, he sauntered out, meeting up with familiar faces.

Kyle approached, "Hey dude, looking as grumpy as always."

Craig ignores the statement, merely giving him a small glance of acknowledgement. He walks over to the bleachers to sit comfortably. He burrows his hands deep into his pockets before leaning back comfortably unto the seat behind him. His eyes begin to droop before shutting completely. A little nap can't hurt.

Stan jogs into the field, huffing and puffing out of exhaustion.

Kyle furrows his eyebrows, "How the hell did you make it here? Don't you have some big test today?"

Stan holds up a hand to stop the redhead from questioning any further. A hand perches over his knee as he takes a breather. "Skipped… Class. Substitute. Didn't see me… Leave. Test… Moved for tomorrow; But never mind that, we playing soccer?" He stands with his back straight and a playful smile across his face.

"Eh, maybe," Kyle shrugs. Pulling out the ball from under the bleachers, he passes it to Stan, who eagerly begins to juggle the ball on his feet.

Cartman eventually walks into the field, the P.E. clothes clinging a little too tightly to his wide torso. He seems slightly out of breath. "Having fun juggling balls on your feet, Marsh?"