Difficult (Complete)

(2)

---Firkle's pov---

I walk past the science room, the class I'm supposed to be on my way to, but I don't feel like it today. I glance over at the room, girls chatting and boys laughing about something. Groups of friends discussing things of various topics. God, I hate all those stupid conformists.

As I stare into the classroom, I continue to walk. Then, I bump into someone.

I fall backwards, but the person grabs me and pulls me into what feels like a hug. After a few seconds, we're just standing there. Hugging, one-sidedly.

"Are you going to let me go?" I ask.

"Uh... Yeah, sorry," I hear that all to familiar voice. I look up from the broad chest of the too hot Ike. He stares down at me, faint pink on his perfect face.

I feel my face heat up. Great, "Are you okay? Your face is really red," he says releasing his grip and putting a hand on my cheek. My face just gets even hotter.

"Wow, you should probably go to the clinic," he says leaning down closer to me, "I'll help you there," he says.

I shake my head, "I-I'm fine," I say, my voice shaking and cracking.

Ike takes my hand and starts off down the hallway, "You need to go to the clinic," he says sounding worried. I look down at out connected hands. He's holding my hand. Ike fucking Broflovski, is holding my hand. Oh my god.