Bite Me [Creek Love Story]

{Nine}

I don't think I could enjoy school even if I tried. The teachers are always way too cocky and the students are all way too annoying. It was Monday, the day dragging on way too slowly and my thoughts were racing way too fast. It seemed like a year before lunch hour began. Yeah, I know I'm exaggerating. Let me complain.

That day was so stressful that I decided to do something I hadn't in a surprisingly long time. When the bell rang, I walked out of my classroom and shoved everything that I didn't need into my locker before slamming it shut, stuffing my hands into my pockets, and walking to the very back of the school.

There stood a teenager wearing a dark green shirt and faded ripped jeans. Combat boots decorated his feet and his hands were covered with black fingerless gloves. His hair was a brown mess and his eyes a darker shade of his hair. A shovel was strapped to his back and a lit cigarette was placed between his lips, his tired eyes staring into the falling snow. I approached him and his gaze slowly turned to me. The boy's skin was slightly tanned and he didn't look at all happy to be alive.

He took the cigarette between his middle and index fingers, lifting it away from his mouth and blowing out smoke into the afternoon air.

"I was beginning to wonder if you'd ever show up again," he said, watching me carefully. His voice was tainted with a somewhat aggravating French accent.

"Shut up," I responded almost immediately, squatting down next to his standing figure. He tossed me a cigarette and handed me a lighter. Once I was finished lighting my cigarette, I returned the lighter and he stuffed it back into his pocket.

"Hm.." mumbled the man. I took a drag of my cigarette, not bothering to look up at him, "Something must be bothering you."

I stayed silent, inhaling and exhaling smoke in an attempt to damage my lungs.

"God's an asshole like that," he sighed. Then silence. We stayed like that for the majority of the hour, sucking on our cigarettes and being content with the knowledge that someone was there.

After a while, I put out my cigarette and rose to my feet, allowing my hands to go back and rest inside of my jacket pockets.

"It's to do with that twitchy blonde, right?" He said, crushing his burned out cigarette into the snow and taking out another one.

"How the hell did you guess that?" I asked, flipping him off.

"You're always looking at him," he responded with a half shrug. Man his accent was pissing me off.

"Mind your own business," I grunted.

"If you care about him so much, just tell him," he said.

"Shut up," I turned around and was about to walk away when his annoying voice traveled into my ears.

"You know, God is always finding ways to fuck our lives up," he began, "You have to learn to fight back. Stop being a pussy."

"Fuck off and dig some holes, douchebag," I flipped him off again and stormed away, frustrated with the fact that he was right. Why was I always wrong?

What if I just wanted a peaceful day without thinking of Tweek? What if I didn't want all this bullshit about how I'm such a terrible person? I get it, I screwed up! Everyone else can stop rubbing it in my face already. Trust me, I know I'm an asshole. I have to live with myself every day.

I was ready to just leave campus and ditch the rest of the school day but I heard soft whimpers coming from around the corner. I glanced around before slowly making my way toward where the source of the noise was and saw Tweek huddled in the corner of the hallway, grabbing at his hair furiously and trembling like some sort of lost Chihuahua.