"Craig?" Stan asked tentatively.
"Go…away." He flips Stan off.
"Please, everyone's already paired up," Stan stamps his foot like a young child.
"I don't care." He flips Stan off again.
"So you want to do the assignment all on your own?"
"Yep." Craig thinned his lips and adamantly looked away from Stan. Stan, already up to here with frustration that day, angrily dropped his books in front of Craig.
"I don't care!" He almost screamed, and sat next to him. Craig sighed deeply, but didn't protest further.
"All your friends don't seem to want you either," Stan mumbled, and opened the history book to the correct pages. They were supposed to do a team project about the Cuban missile crisis.
"And I'm not being a pussy about it," Craig smirked. Then on a softer note, probably because he was bored, "and why does nobody want you?"
"Well Kyle and Cartman…you know," Stan doesn't want to finish the sentence. Nothing against gays or whatever, just thinking about it too much doesn't bode well with his weak stomach.
Craig takes this time to look over at Kyle and Cartman themselves. They're fighting. Kyle has just stabbed Cartman with a pen. Cartman has now hit Kyle with a book. They are now staring at each other…and hug.
"Yeah, I know," Craig sighs.
"And Kenny's dead today," Stan says, and begins to draft a layout for the essay. The project requires a thousand word essay and a poster.
"What about your friends?" Stan asks half-heartedly.
"Clyde and Token, Tweek and Jimmy," Craig lists the pairs, "it doesn't matter. What about your girlfriend?"
"We're not together right now," Stan mumbled, sounding sad. Craig doesn't bother asking more on that topic, but probes another.
"Why you so pissed off today?"
"Just…," Stan trails off. Craig raises his eyebrows.
"I just feel alone." Stan rushes out the sentence, always the sensitive one, blurting out his feelings. Craig nods. He's a listener. Tucker takes the essay outline and scribbles a few corrections on it, then hands it back.
"I can understand," He says.
"Eh?"
"Your best friend and fatass have decided to elope. Poor boy is almost always dead, and no Wendy," He gives a nice little shrug, "plus your dad is fucking insane."
Stan gives a little laugh, and rubs out Craig's corrections and puts his original structure back in place. Craig scowls a little, but doesn't bother to interfere.
"I…," He says slowly and nasally, "sometimes feel the same."
"Oh?"
"High school really does change things," He shrugs. Then, as if a silent bond has been made they don't say anything more about it and just continue with the project for the rest of the lesson.
The bell rings and everyone gets up.
"No fatass, I'm keeping the work - you'll loose it!"
"Up yours Kahl!"
Stan and Craig pay them no mind. Out in the hallway, Stan looks over to Craig.
"I was thinking we sit at that table near the trophy case?"
"Yeah, sure," Craig shrugs and the two walk off, having made a new friend.