A S-CREEK-ret Admirer

Morning Of

I wake up before my alarm today, heart pounding nervously.
Shit.
Today's the day. If I don't tell him today, especially before the actual dance where some phoney is claiming my valentine, then it's all over.
What if he starts dating this fake jackass? I shudder involuntarily.
There's no fucking way that can happen.
At least there seems to be some progress.
He called me cute again last night. Even though it was definitely sarcastic, I'm not about to write it off.
I can't help grinning like an idiot.
If every night could be like last night, I would die happy.
Tweek didn't end up staying over, but that's the only change I'd make.
Then it could loop forever.
I leap out of bed and into the bathroom, my energy levels high, as if today's also the day my parents are taking me to Disneyland for the first time.

20 minutes later, Token's suave, masculine, glorified minivan pulls up into my driveway. Nicole waves cheerily from the passenger seat as usual, as I walk up to the car, and I return the wave before popping open the back door.
Tweek grins mischievously at me as I settle in next to him.
I grin back.
Clyde never texted back last night, so we're both anxiously waiting to see how butthurt he is this morning.
And we're off to pick up the rest of the Friday carpool.

"Screw you guys," Clyde glowers when he opens the door, to a face full of mine and Tweek's enormous mocking grins. We laugh, and he roughly shoves me out of my middle seat.
"Craig's mom likes me more than you, Tweek. Don't try to play off like she didn't wish I was there." Clyde retorts. Tweek throws up his hands in surrender, still grinning and slides out of his seat and into the back row to make room for Jimmy; the unspoken law of the seating hierarchy taking effect.
Nicole gets shotgun, Jimmy gets one of the two middle thrones cause his braces don't fit in the back row, and Tweek usually takes the back, cause he doesn't like having people in front and also behind him in the car.
Obviously, I sit next to Tweek.
"Who's butt hurt now?" I taunt, pinching Clyde's chubby cheek as I get up off the floor. He swats me off, pouting like a toddler. I chuckle, clambering into the back row next to Tweek.
We low key hi-five, smirking at Clyde's expense.
"What happened?" Token asks curiously, both him and Nichole craning to face backwards from the font seat.
"Craig's being a douche is all that's happening." Clyde grumbles. Token smirks, shaking his head.
"We didn't even make it out of his driveway, Craig. This is a new record." He says. I smirk, clicking my tongue and winking. Clyde turns to try and punch me, but misses by a mile and just goes back to pouting.
Token and Nichole shake their heads, and turn back to face the front.
"Never a dull moment," Nichole praises, a hint of sarcasm in her amused tone, and Tweek snickers under his breath next to me, but pretends to be busy innocently unscrewing the cap on his thermos.
I shoot him a sideways look to let him know no ones falling for it, but he's fully immersed in the action of opening his thermos now. I continue watching him out corner of my eye as he takes a swig from it, and my stomach freezes as I remember I have to tell him that it was me, today, before some other asshole has the chance to steal him away from me.
He catches my eye and offers me the thermos, but I shake my head.
I'm feeling suddenly nauseous, and black coffee is definitely not gonna fuckin help.

Classes fly by like white noise, I can't focus on anything other than my impending doom.
Lunch rolls around and as soon as I spot Tweek I break out in a cold sweat, my heart hammering nervously in my throat.
I take the open seat next to him, and I can't even hear today's heated debate of Cartman vs The People.
"Hey, Tweek?" I manage to squeeze out past the throbbing heart in my trachea, but he continues staring wide-eyed between Cartman and Kyle, completely engrossed in the no-doubt ridiculous argument.
I give in, and tune into the heated discussion flying back and forth across the table.
"Yeah? Well if you're so sure Kahl, then why don't you bet on it?"
"You're on fat boy. What's the bet??" Kyle shouts. Cartman smirks.
"If I'm right, you have to be my date for the dance." Kyle pales and catches fire at the same time.
"And if I'm right, you don't argue with me ever again!!" Kyle spits out, his voice almost an octave higher.
"Ever again? That's like asking me to stop breathing, Kahl." Cartman refutes, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow like he's the godfather or some shit. Kyle rolls his eyes in dramatized irritation, but it's pretty obvious he wouldn't be able to keep up the no-argument arrangement, any more then Cartman could.
"Fine. Till graduation." Kyle amends. Cartman's expression looks like he's already won.
"You're on Jew." He smirks dangerously.
Both of them whip out their phones, along with almost everyone else at the table, googling ferociously.
I try to read over Tweek's shoulder to see what he's googling, still way too out of the loop on what's going on, but don't get too far when,
"No fucking way." Kyle whimpers breathlessly. All eyes snap up to him for the verdict.
"You.. YOU CHEATED!!" Kyle literally squeaks, face redder than I've ever seen it.
"How the fuck could I change every single thing on the internet, Kahl." Cartman says, extremely smug. Kyle is in full panic mode, his eyelids fluttering only marginally faster than how fast his mouth opens and closes trying to form words.
He looks around frantically, hoping someone can save him, hoping someone found a different outcome to whatever they were on about. Cartman's smirk just grows bigger.
"Give it up, Kahl. I'm right. You owe me a date, fag." Cartman gloats, leaning forward to drive home his statement. Kyle looks broken.
Speechless for once in his life, he drops his head down into his hands, utterly defeated.
Red giggles at the same time as Kenny laughs, and they share an amused smirk.
"Awwh you guys are gonna look soooo cute together tonight!" Red sings. Causing Lola, Bebe and Annie to laugh along with her.
"Make sure you guys hit the kissing arch, I want pictures!" Kenny adds in, causing the rest of the table to giggle.
Cartman seems to realize what he's done, his eyes widening as red splotches flare up in his cheeks.
Kyle just sinks in on himself even further, no doubt hoping he could just disappear into thin air.
Stan smacks him on the back encouragingly, while still smirking at his expense.
"Aw, come on, Kyle! It's not a real date!" Stan tries to reassure.
"Yeah, it is, actually." Cartman states loudly. "He has to dance and get me punch, and, and..." he adds trailing off, clearly unsure about what else you're supposed to do with your date at a dance, squinting his eyes at Stan as if the answer is written in tiny letters on Stan's face.
"AND KISS UNDER THE ARCH!" Kenny yells, punching Cartman in the shoulder, and laughing maniacally. Kyle finally lifts his head, scowling deeply at Kenny.
"Shut the fuck up Kenny, it's not funny!!" He growls, face still blazing red. He turns awkwardly to Lola.
"U-uhm.. sorry, I guess I can't be your date anymore," he says awkwardly. She just laughs.
"That's fine, this is better." Her and Red hi-five. I smirk, and Tweek catches my eye.
Looks like we weren't the only ones thinking they should just fuck and get it over with.