Our Addiction {Craig x Tweek}

Chapter 6

  School is so ridiculously shitty... ' 

 I tapped my yellow pencil on the hard surface for the hundredth time, although by the looks ofit, it unsurprisingly doesn't do anything to alleviate my growing boredom. 

  It's been an actual full two weeks since I've seen Tweek Tweak. It's also been a full two weeksof my not-so-hard-hitting realization that I may or may not have a disgustingly large crush onone of my best friends- but it's not that he'll actually reciprocate the feelings- and that reallysucks.  

  Token was the only one aware of my one-sided crush. I was ridiculous enough to spill my, getthis, feelings​ ​to him. We both agreed that as much as this shitty realization sucks, Clyde wouldnever like me back. Harsh, right? Such is life. 

 The school day continued to drag on in complete lack of anything interesting... that is, untillunch rolled around. Clyde and Token usually met up with me outside the library, both of themhaving the same class before lunch.

  Strangely, neither of my friends were anywhere to be seen. 

 'I guess I can wait a minute, if not I'll just totally be lame and eat by myself.'

  I waited with a growing lack of patience for about ten minutes, before completely forgoing thewaiting and skipping actually buying lunch to head straight into the old cafeteria and claiming anempty table near the back. 

 Usually, I wouldn't bother with actually smoking in school, but I was pretty far away from anytype of adult supervision and no one was near me enough to be bothered by it.

  I quickly lit up my cancer stick, and took a drag. 

  From my position, I could see stupid ass Stan and his crew being dumb as usual, Bebe and thegirls doing whatever the hell girly shit, and oh hey, is that Tweek walking my way?

  And lo and behold, Tweek Tweak is making his way towards me, a nervous expression on fulldisplay; green eyes nevertheless holding a determined feel. 

 I take another drag on my cigarette, and quirk an eyebrow

  'This is actually strange? I wonder what he wants.' 

  He plops himself down to the bench opposite of me, and diverts his eyes downwards. Histwitchy fingers are tracing patterns unfollowable to my eyes on the table

  "Uh, this is kinda m-my table, so if you don't mind, I'm g-going to sit here as w-well." 

  *_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_

  Craig's expression was unreadable to me, but after what seems a few minutes of contemplatingmy statement, he blows a billowing cloud of smoke out of his mouth and gives an affirming (atleast, even through my nervous assumptions) nod of his head. 

 It was quiet for a minute or two, before Craig lets out a chuckle.

  "I guess we won't be able to get rid of one another for a while, huh?" 

 I just nervously nod my head to his statement.

  As much as I was thankful to Craig for not letting me drown to death in mydepressed-slash-drunk state of being; the novelty of being around the dark haired boy for morethan passing one another in the hallway hasn't quite caught up to my brain by now. 

  It had been an actual shock seeing the unfeeling boy waiting for me at the hospital a few weeksago.

  Of course, my mind has been distracted with newly developed responsibilities like actuallylearning how to deal with my problems in healthy ways. But Craig has still been on the forefrontof my over-thinking mind.