Linguine Tutto Mare

Chapter 2

By, the Unlucky-Charm

A/N. Hey guys, thank you so much for reading an reviewing and everything, I appreciate it and invite you to do it again. There are just a few thing I'd like to point out...

First of all, a lot of you wrote to me about chapter one, how 'bonjourno' was NOT Spanish, but Italian. I'd just like to say that, I knew that, and it was sort of part of the joke, as in, Craig was such a fail that he didn't even know how to say hello. If you re-read the passage, you'll understand

Second, if any of you know any cool fancy meal names, let me know. It'll be a huge help.

Thank you!

Wednesday was one of the worst nights of my life. Actually, it was THE worst, since so far, I haven't had any bad nights, excluding the times when I was sick. But, on this night, I was far from sick. On this night, I realised that my bed sheets had over 20 horizontal white stripes, my ceiling was stained with about 74 marks and that counting sheep didn't help one bit, especially when you were so very restless in your bed. In the beginning, I had no idea why I was in such a state. In my head, I went over what I had eaten that day, checking if I had an unusual intake of caffeine or sugar, but not only did I have NO sweet tooth in the first place, the only coffee I set eyes on was the one Tweek was carrying with him.

I tried thinking of Kyle, but the image wasn't my usual one of his gorgeous smile and shiny eyes. Instead, it was the one I have been seeing all week which held a frown, grinding teeth and just general waves of anger. I didn't know the reason for this, but I knew it had to stop, especially if it meant having to spend a whole day with him growling at me. I would NOT let this ruin my Thursday; first thing during Spanish, I was going to fix it.

I began planning my words, based on some different scenario hypothesises I had come up with during the night. And by 2 am, I was sure I had a come back for anything my Jew could possibly throw at me. Any scene he could create had been acted out, even though I decided to end some a bit unrealistically, such as spontaneously making out, but it's my fantasy so I do what I want.

It was around 3 am when I began to realise that, despite all the thinking I was doing, the capability of sleep was still beyond me. I was wide awake, thinking of Kyle. It was around 3:30, when I finally understood what was REALLY up with me. Could it be that Kyle WAS the reason I couldn't sleep? If so then, for the first time in my life, I would be feeling actual worry and anxiety, which were both new to me. I couldn't wait for morning to come and yet I feared it. I felt like running over to Kyle's house to ask him what was the matter and at the same time, I knew I would crumble in front of him once I got there.

In a way, I wanted to know the reason of his anger, but would rather hearing it from someone else. If he was mad at ME, I wouldn't want to hear it from him. A lot of people have told me a lot of things straight to my face and I was used to it since I never reacted. However, none of those people were Kyle and thank God for that. If Kyle ever walked up to me and told me I was the cause of his aggravation, I would literally beg for his forgiveness.

Pushing those terrifying thoughts away, I went back to silently laying in my bed for what felt like a million hours with a bunch numbers floating around in my mind, along with their friend, the migraine.

When morning finally rolled around, I realised how much I'd rather stay in bed. I didn't want to go. My parents had left already, I could easily just ditch for the day, but it was Thursday and I would never forgive myself if I missed it. Not because of the classes, but because Kyle was clearly unhappy and I cannot rest until I find out why.

A whole mass of feeling was welling up inside me; it was the same batch that had always been there in the pit of my stomach, trying to get to my heart. I was pushing them down, like always, but I think fear and anxiety had finally just gotten through. I didn't feel these things when it came to anybody else. It was only Kyle and would always be only Kyle.

I loved him, because he made me feel human, and only humans can feel love. So in the end, weirdly enough, my feelings WERE Kyle himself. It's as if, I was born without a soul, but Kyle was born with two (one of them being mine) and slowly, as we spent time together, piece by piece, he'd give me back my humanity.

In the end, after having analysed how Kyle is my one and only reason to live, I hauled myself out of bed, got ready and arrived late to school. The bell was going to ring in 3 minutes when I finally got to school. I still needed to grab my books and head for the Spanish classroom, but the second I stepped into the building, I stopped dead in my tracks. Down the hallway, in front of Tweek's locker, sat yours truly in the arms of the Marsh kid, who seemed to have a hand on his shoulder from where I was standing.

"Jesus Christ Tweek..." I muttered to myself, and marched myself over there.

"Um..." I said, standing in front of them, my arms crossed over my chest.

"Oh! Ngh, h-hey Craig!"

"Explain." I said coldly, cutting to the chase, especially when Stan hadn't even bothered removing his hand.

"Oh! Dude!" Stan finally realised and snatched back his hand. "It's not like that man...He had a panic attack, I-I was only...you were late and-"

"I ran out of coffee. You weren't here. I started to freak out, as usual. Stan was just there and helped me. That okay mister protective pants!" Tweek snapped and stuck his tongue out at me while Stan awkwardly sat there and blushed.

"Y-yeah..." He muttered.

I stood in front of them for a few more seconds, until the bell rang and Stan shot up and faced me.

"Hey um, I got class now...Say hi to Ky for me and...careful dude, he doesn't seem to happy lately." He lowered his voice and the last part and with a pat on my shoulder, he ran off to whatever class he had.

So, even the dense Marsh boy had noticed. Well, no surprise there since Kyle may be the only thing on this planet that Stan has the capability of 'understanding', but it made me even more worried. I still had a shred of hope that Kyle's anger was the result of paranoia acting on my imagination, but with this new information, even that one shred disappeared, leaving me to face Kyle alone.

With a nod to Tweek (and a death glare in return), I ran off to class. Panting quietly, I walked into the Spanish classroom, the only one with all the desks pushed into pairs. The teacher believed that that would give us the chance to help our partner and practice on one another. Sure, Kyle and I did that... for a matter of 15 minutes and spent the rest of the time chatting along about anything, really. The difference was that he actually bothered learning when he got home, I didn't.

The teacher hadn't arrived yet, meaning that I was in fact, 'on time'. I walked over to my usual place next to Kyle, who was staring out the window, red as a tomato, obviously avoiding my gaze by pretending to be uninterested in my presence.

"Hey." I said, keeping my bluntness to a maximum. It didn't matter how much I wanted to smother him right now, or how much I wanted to ask him what was the matter, I had to keep my regular act on, or else I would fall to pieces in front of him. Every word I said, had to be carefully pronounced in a very specific tone.

"Hm..."

Okay, so something was definitely up. There wasn't any cheerful greeting this time, or that blissful smile that came with it. I sat down and was about to ask him how he was doing when something caught my eye. Something that should be illegal in at least 35 states and one European country. Something that proves that God really doesn't like me very much.

Kyle was sitting on his chair, his desk pushed against the wall and half his body leaning over on the window sill. Please, oh God, PLEASE, try to imagine this. His T-shirt had been stretched upward, revealing his now bare lower back and the elastic band of his green boxer shorts: 'Calvin Klein'. My limbs began to fidget, especially my left hand which was closest to him. I was using my whole body to stop my one hand from stretching out and just grabbing... Oh God. I began to sweat and saliva gathered in my mouth. My breathing was uneven and my pants...lets just say I was fighting to get them to STOP from tightening.

"Buenos Dias students!" The teacher announced out loud, making me almost jump in my seat and yell 'I wasn't staring!'.

She began her lesson, which luckily only lasted a few minutes, and then let us handle the rest on our own while she did some shit on her laptop. I turned my attention back to Kyle, but the sexy bastard was still looking away.

"So um, should be do this thing or..." I pushed my book in between us so that we could both look at it, but again, no reaction from him. "Okay, I guess not. So, what's up?" I tried again, but the results remained the same.

With a loud, impatient grunt, I shut the book with force and pushed it away, almost making it fall over the desk.

"Dude...What the hell?" I said, but I think I only made it worse since he began to frown.

With a loud sigh, I scooted my chair closer to his. "Hey. What's up with you?"

He slowly turned his head towards me, looking insanely pissed off. He glared at me for a moment and then turned back around.

"Kyle, c'mon, even Stan has noticed."

I was breaking. All the signs were there, he just couldn't see them. The simple fact that I called his name and referred to the Marsh kid as 'Stan' and not 'Marsh kid' was the obvious proof that I was totally not being myself, therefore I was mad in love with him and couldn't even bare the idea of him being angry. Would that be considered jumping to conclusions? Very probably. But it was still the truth.

This time, it was his turn to sigh. Rolling his eyes with exaggeration, he slammed his hand on his desk and addressed me once again.

"You're a fucking ass hole, you know that?" He said, running his fingers through his fiery red bangs. "Why would you do that? I don't get it."

I wanted to slam my hand over his mouth and stop him from talking. Every word he spoke sliced through me and added on my actual vulnerability. If he went on any longer, I would lose my stoic composure and I couldn't let him see that, at least not now.

"What...what did I do exactly?" I asked, looking away just in case I cracked at any point.

"Why would you pretend to be so nice. If you hate me, just tell me. You're an asshole to everyone else, why would you bother faking it with me?"

Okay, so THIS I didn't expect. What the fuck got him thinking that? In a flash, I went over last week's Thursday in my head, but I couldn't think of anything that I could have done wrong. So why was he under this impression? Did someone tell him something... or was this just another one of those random epiphanies people had?

"Dude...what are you talking about?"

"I mean, I always thought: why is he so nice to me? Well, now I have an idea of what the answer might be." He continued his rant.

He was hurt, that much was obvious, but now so was I. He had questioned it. Why? Why was it so hard to grasp that I, Craig Tucker, can actually like someone? Why is it so impossible to believe? He couldn't even accept that I could actually be nice, just imagine how he would be if I told him that, not only to I like him; I adore him!

"I knew it was weird when you started helping me out with soccer, in gym."

Helping you with soccer? That's surprising to you? I'd fucking DIE for you! Surprised now? Yeah, Craig Tucker can feel shit too, you shocked? Yeah, well, I didn't know either. And guess what! YOU did this to me Kyle! You made me into this lovesick retard who is slowly destroying himself on the inside with every seconds he. Spends. With. YOU!

"Dude, you're my partner, it's my job." My voice was on the verge of breaking, but he seemed too angry to notice.

I wanted to explode. There were just too many words, sentences that I would like to say to him, but only a tiny percentage of those words were aloud to leave my mouth. I wondered how long it would take until there was no more room in there and I would end up throwing it all up right into Kyle's face.

"Even though that IS what you think of me..." The sound of the bell cut him off and he stood up, gathering his books. "I don't get why you would randomly tell someone."

Speechless, I watched him walk out. My eyes widened slightly and my mouth fell open. He was gone, so I allowed this meaningless display of feeling to linger.

So I was right; someone told him something. The most logical explanation would have been the Marsh kid, out of jealousy and protectiveness, but I couldn't just accuse him. Besides, he was the one who warned me about Kyle's mood...or was that just all part of his plot to get Kyle to hate me! Right, like Marsh was smart enough to come up with that.

I walked out of the class, a while after it had emptied and bumped into someone.

"Agh! Ngh- wow, you sere seriously zoned out back there." Tweek had stumbled back a few steps and was rubbing his forehead, a taunting grin on his lips.

"Tweek, you okay?"

"Yeah dude, are you? He must've said something pretty nasty, haven't seen you like this before."

"T-Tweek, wha... what are you talking about?"

"Oh Jesus, Craig you're stuttering! Are you feeling okay? You were just staring into nothing, like you had something to say but just weren't able to."

Shit, he was right, but how...

"Were you watching me?"

"Yeah, the whole time. Can't believe you didn't see me, I was right there."

It was happening. I was losing myself. I let my guard down for a second and someone saw me, I can only be thankful it was just Tweek.

"He hates me." I said, out of nowhere. My nasally voice was back, at least THAT was still there.

"What? Why?"

"I don't know, I-I, something happened, someone told him something and-"

"Holy shit." Tweek whispered, his eyes looking genuinely worried.

"What?"

"What's up with you dude? You're all... freaked out." He put his tiny hands on my shoulders. "Craig. Listen, just chill 'cause I think I can hear your heartbeat and that can't be healthy." He slid them down onto my chest. "Get your books, well actually you don't need any, so just head to arts and find out what the fuck is going on with him. Remember: You. Are. Craig. Tucker. You can handle this shit."

With one pat on the shoulder, Tweek was off to his next class and I was off to arts, or more likely, my doom.

I found him already at our seat, his head placed in his palm, listening to the teacher yell at some other kid for spilling the paint. I took this opportunity to sneak to my place without being noticed and asked to go get a late slip.

Her voice was loud, so I leaned in and whispered into my redhead's ear.

"Hey," I breathed, making him shiver as the cold air from my mouth came across the warmth of his skin. I hadn't expected that to happen, but it WAS all to my liking. "Once this bitch stops yelling, we need to talk."

'We need to talk.'; a sentence I thought I would never have to say to him. However, this was a completely different situation.

He kept his frown on but nodded. I just needed to clear this out with him. Get the name of the person who fed him all this bullshit, give him an explanation (if there was one) , make him love me again and then, finally, hunt down this 'person' and kick their ass.

Sadly, the teacher thought it necessary to give explanations for what seemed to be a fucking millennium in my book. From the small amount I actually listened to and actually contained from her ranting, for the new project, we needed to draw our partner's portrait, which was AMAZING since it gave me an excuse to stare at him.

Once she had shut up, she asked the kid she was yelling at to pass out some papers and fancy pencils (who's fanciness I was never able to understand).

"I'll try my best not to move." I said, setting my paper and million dollar pencil in front of me.

"I think you owe me an explanation first." He mumbled, staring down at his paper, on which he had began sketching out some shapes.

"Right well, you're gonna have to start by telling me the name of the guy who's been feeding you all this crap." I spat, or more like I wanted to, but my damn voice just made me sound bored.

"I'd rather keep that person's identity a secret for his or her own good." He said dryly.

Jesus Kyle, don't talk to me like that. Actually, say what you want, but never look at me like that, or at least change your tone. You might think I'm made of stone, but if you just came a little closer even a little bit TOO close if your sweet pride will let you, just give me 10 seconds of your precious time, and I could show you otherwise.

"Could you at least tell me what they claimed were my very own words?"

He picked up his pencil and began drumming it on the table. Well, whatever I had 'said' must be making him really angry or uncomfortable. I suddenly wanted to tell him 'it's okay' touching his shoulder and going 'you don't have to say it, I'm so sorry.' But in the end, I guess, I really DID wish he hadn't said it.

"I'm a nerd. I'm some kind of wimp or pussy, like Pip? Ring any bells Craig?"

His gaze was flying all over the room, expect towards me. If it hadn't been for the part about Pip, I would have told him it was all a bunch of lies. The question was, what the hell was I supposed to tell him now? My only choice would be to spill Ruby's secret. Well a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do. Especially if it involves revenge on a sneaky little bitch. That whore didn't think twice about calling him up and 'asking about the pages' and making me look like an asshole, so why should I even question humiliating her like there's no tomorrow. Fuck her. Nobody makes Kyle hate me, especially no 12 year old slut.

"Wow..." I said, a cocky smirk stretching open my lips. "This is gonna be tough, but try to bare with me, okay?" Too bad he wasn't looking up, he would have seen me smile, or showing my teeth, or whatever the fuck I look like when I try to be happy.

"Whatever, let's hear it." He hooded his eyes and pouted. He looked like he would snap at any time...you know, unless I lost control first and attacked those full lips, practically calling for me.

"Ruby, right?"

He nodded. Let the humiliation begin.

"She's 12, you realise that, I'm sure. Those hormones of hers are acting up like crazy." I began. "Not to mention she's a total whore already, so you can imagine how disgustingly horny she gets, but that's not the point." I felt like he was paying more and more attention to me as I spoke. "So seeing as you're this 16 year old guy with whom she gets to spend some private time, her crushing on you could not be avoided. That is, what we call, the 'Jonas Brother effect'."

He didn't appear angry anymore, but wore what I could only call an annoyed expression.

"What's your damn point? How does hating on your sister change in what you said about me?" I was losing him again. He was becoming impatient and was sketching furiously on his paper. Let's all just hope he doesn't damage that pencil, which I believe is used by the royal family.

"Dude, you're telling me you WANT a 12 year old girl getting hot for you?" He wrinkled his nose and stared at me like I'm some gross pervert. I can't blame him. No matter how rhetorical that question was, its distastefulness remained.

"That is why I told her all those thing- all those LIES, about you. I guess my plan kind of failed, but I really didn't mean all that shit."

I started off my explanation with pride and my usual macho way of talking about things, but I think that last sentence came out as a plea for forgiveness. Even though in the end, forgiveness WAS what I was aiming for, I didn't want it to be heard when I spoke. But once again, Kyle proved my assumptions wrong.

"Okay," He whispered. "Now, hold still so I can get this thing started."

The rest of the course, he was silent. Every time I tried to strike up a conversation, he either said something like 'hmm' or 'okay' or a stupid sigh.

By the end of the whole lesson, he had drawn an accurate shape of my face. All my paper had was a few scribbles and a giant oval in the middle of the page. Even THAT was wrong. In reality, Kyle's face was in the shape of a cute little circle, but no one ever noticed that because of his defined cheekbones.

The bell rang and the teacher let us out. She scorned at me when I handed in my paper, but I dismissed it with a flip of a very special finger. As I walked out, Tweek called me over.

"You're waiting again?"

"Yeah I faked a panic attack in class and left 10 minutes early. There's a limit of how much American history can be crammed into my already blonde and screwed up head."

"Dude, don't joke about shit like that. It's not cool. Your parents will try and stuff more meds into you and its not like you're not swallowing enough already."

"Whatever Dr. Fag, what happened with Jewboy?" He asked, dismissing my concern with a wave of his tiny hand. His loss.

"I told him the story, but he's still pissed. I don't get it, maybe he just needs some time to-"

"Did you apologize?" He cut in.

"Um no, why-"

"Craig! Why the hell not? No matter what your initial goal was, you still called him those names. If you had called him a whore or a retard, your explanation would have been enough. The fact is, you hit him hard in places that hurt the most."

"What? Why didn't you tell me this before!"

"He's obviously uncomfortable about his small build, especially when compared to his friends. I mean, Stan's a jock, Cartman's a fatass and Kenny...well he's just a fucking stud."

Tweek went starry-eyed for a second, but a gentle poke from my part brought him back to earth from McCormick land in a second.

"Plus, you know what he gets called by the fatass all the time!"

"Jew? Ginger? And um...Jersey?"

"Um, yes, AND nerd. Its just that when you had to think fast for insults, THOSE were the ones that came up and nothing else. I thought you would have grasped that much on your own."

Shit, blond bastard had a point. Plus, it's Kyle I'm dealing with. If it were Stan, the retard wouldn't be able to analyse or look deep into all of this. Kyle, on the other hand, was a fucking genius. Heck, the kid understood my actions before I even did. I had to get my paranoid best friend to explain to me. I wish I could tell him. Tell him everything that was going through my brain. Or at least have him fall into toxic waste and have the ability to read minds in consequence. That way, I could spare myself the embarrassment and hide away while he got into my head and saw all the words I could never say out loud. I'll say it again and I'll say it 10 times if I have to; I'm turning into them. As insecure as Cartman, as pathetic as Marsh, but I haven't reached the low of McCormick, but don't you worry...we're getting there.

At lunch, Tweek and I sat on the edge of a random table used by another, larger group. They wouldn't pay attention to us, unless they overheard one of us (usually Tweek) say something of their interest. The cafeteria was the one and only place in this school where all the cliques and groups were separated into their own tables, judging by their social status, sex, popularity, or just plain good looks. Thing is, Marsh's group had all of those. When they walked in, in a perfect horizontal placement, all that was missing was some badass background music and a fan to make their hair fly all over the place. Their group was, what I had once heard Butters telling Tweek, just plain sexy, if it weren't for Cartman's cheap excuse for a highlight job. As you can plainly see, Butters' words, not mine.

So, eventually, as expected, they walked in. And as much as everyone hated to admit, they all turned their heads towards them. They all walked in the same pace, nobody was a step behind or forward. And since we started high school, they always made their entrance in the exact same placement. From left to right: Bebe, texting on her phone, Wendy, arm in arm with her boyfriend Stan, followed by Cartman, wearing his cocky smile as always, then, the best of them all, obviously Kyle, holding up a book in front of his eyes, ignoring the whole room who was staring at him, and then finally McCormick, flashing his smile and flipping his hair around. It was the kind of scene you would see in a Gap summer catalogue, only I had the unfortunate chance to have to see it every freaking day.

"Ugh." I grunted, getting Tweek's attention away from the group of Barbies and Kens passing by (except for Kyle).

"What?"

"Do they REALLY have to make an entrance EVERY time? Don't they get bored?"

"I guess its their job seeing as they sort of are the most important people in the damn school. Of course, ALL of them just happen to be friends, so I guess they need even more attention. They can't help it. They ARE the symbols of our school."

I grunted again, only because I hated how right he was. Remember the 4 major points in being a celebrity in this damn school?

Well, first off, for the sex, Wendy and Bebe were hanging out with a bunch of guys all the time, so that made them 'cool' for some reason, just because they were girls. Second, when it came to popularity, we could say that was kind of a question of talent. Wendy was head of the debate club and student body vice president, Cartman was THE president, Stan was head quarterback, Kyle was number one in his grades in the whole school, not to mention his outstanding artwork and awards he has won for the school. Bebe was head cheerleader and Kenny (he's kind of cheating), was just a whore who flirted, charmed and slept with everybody. And guess what? This isn't even half of it! Want to get me even more worked up about this? Watch me.

On top of it all, as if their social status and popularity weren't enough, they were all fucking GORGEOUS. I have to be honest, as much as I hate it, but it was true. Even Cartman was okay. He had this light brown hair with blonde streaks, he had lost weight, and wore these button up shirts, making him look friendlier and sexier (Butters again).

So long story short, everyone envied, hated and adored them at the same time.

Once they had sat down, and once I had finished my lunchtime mental rape of Kyle Broflovski, I turned part of my attention back to Tweek, who was now speaking to Butters...wait no, ABOUT Butters.

"...Like, I wanna just-ngh SIT in his bathroom when he's taking a shower so I can figure out what he does to his hair to make it so SHINY! I mean, it's sooooo SHINY!"

"Go for it." I said, between two bites of food. Actually, what I really wanted to say was: 'Yeah Tweek, that's not creepy at all. And MAYBE, if you stopped pulling, tugging and ripping out your own hair, it would be as SHINY as Butters'.' But I had no interest in insulting yet ANOTHER person I actually liked.

For the rest of our free time, Tweek ranted about God knows what and then began nagging at me for being so chill about this Kyle incident. Little did he know I was having 47 heart attacks every time his name came up. But neither did he know that I had a plan. A good one this time. Based on what I knew about Kyle's personality, my idea would surely work...of course, while it also sent a few benefits my way...

For yet another time, Kyle has made me feel something I wouldn't usually feel: anticipation. I was so restless during the free half hour we had, waiting for gym class to begin, that Tweek socked me in the stomach at one point.

"Calm the fuck down." He had said. "Stop pacing, sit down and tell me what the fuck you're planning on doing."

I went over his wish in my head. I didn't like the first part at all, you know, about 'calming down'. The pacing was helping me burn off some anxiety and stress, but I could see how it would be annoying for Tweek to sit there and watch me do it. The last part, I really began to consider as a good way to get my mind of off it, without actually doing so. So I stopped, sat down in front of him Indian style and let him in on the plan. With every little twist and clever aspect of my idea, Tweek either gasped, smiled deviously or snickered like a pervert.

Five minutes before the bell, I ran into the changing rooms to get into my basketball shorts and tight black wife beater. I wasn't even sure how I had that thing. I don't recall buying it or wearing it on its own or under anything. I only used it for gym, leaving it worn out and forever smelling of sweat.

The sound of the whistle was heard from the gym and everyone filed out in front of the coach who, with his loud booming voice, told us the new elements we needed to cover for the new semester which had begun (hence the new art project and several last minute end of term exams). I had already checked the schedule, unlike anybody else in my gym class, and knew exactly what was coming up. The moans and grunts from all the smaller members of the class were heard in a symphony the second the coach had pronounced that word.

"Football."

Now, you might not get it yet, but this element plays an important role in my plan. And if you perverts out there are thinking its because I get to tackle Kyle and be uncomfortably close to him for the next several weeks then...yeah, you're partially correct, but that wasn't the point. The point is, that I was able to use my ingenious ways of thinking to figure out a way to make a romantic scene (even though nobody will even notice) out of the sport called football, dreaded by every small guy that had to do gym class.

We started off by a quick jog as usual, during which Kyle was silent. Then, we were told to toss around the pigskin for another 20 minutes until finally, the instructions I was waiting for so badly came up.

"I know most of you know how to, so practice your attacking, tackling and defence stances together! If there are some who don't know, it is up to their partners to show them!"

Ah, the look of dismay on Kylie's face...oh, so, VERY funny.

"I-is he s-serious?" He gulped.

"Dead serious dude." I said, the smile in my voice was clear, even though there wasn't an actual one on my face.

"Um, fine then. Let's go." He said half-heartedly. Pffft, what am I even saying? Not even half of him wanted to do this! Kyle was facing the biggest challenge of his life, all to my amusement.

Once we were in a more spacious corner away from the other groups, Kyle looked at me awkwardly with a whole lot of puppy dog plea in his eyes. I almost lost my composure, but I didn't let it happen. I had to get through with this.

"How is this done exactly?" He asked, and guess what? I had NO clue.

"Well, um, we sort have to charge at each other and push at each other's shoulders until someone falls or is pushed past um... yeah, these black lines." I lied and pointed at random lines.

He nodded and took a few steps back, shaking with all his might. "Go easy dude." I heard him mutter, but I didn't answer. Why? Because that is the last thing I'd be doing.

I counted to three and once I said 'go' my plan had begun. We both ran at each other, arms reaching out, but despite his lean muscle mass, Kyle didn't stand a chance against me. He ended up on the floor on his back, my hands were still clutching his shoulders, keeping him down under me, as my I brought my legs to cradle his thighs. His shock stricken face was priceless. His dark orange brows were in a frown, just like they've always been in the last few days. His lips were in that angry pout shape, that in my book, was still way too cute to be considered a sign of anger. His hair had fallen around his head and over his forehead and last but not least, his eyes were widened. The contrast created by the emerald green, the fiery red and the snow white of his eyes made a shiver run through my spine.

And now, even though Kyle was lying helpless underneath me, I couldn't help but feel like I was the one in trouble, like I was the prey, because I had been captured and could not look away. I fought to reduce the sweat forming on every inch of my body, the heat rising from my chest to my face and once again, the tightening in my shorts because THAT of all things, he would surely notice.

"C-Craig? Can u please get off?"

Instead of obeying him, I tightened my grip on him. As a part of my body lost control, another part still wanted to get on with the plan and I think that's what would be best.

"No." I said. "Kyle, I'm sorry for what I said about you to my stupid sister. I seriously didn't mean it I swear."

"Yeah well, you still said it."

"That's true. And I can totally understand as of why you got so angry about it, but let me tell you something. I don't know you well enough, but I can tell right away that you are not a nerd. I bet you don't even study for exams OR those competitions you seem to always win. People who are NATURALLY smart, are NOT nerds."

He looked up at me, only this time looking very confused. His still wide eyes were blinking rapidly at me, but I decided to continue anyway.

"And as much as I'm sorry to say it, you're not the strongest of guys Kyle, but that doesn't make you a wimp. So once again, I'm sorry and I hope you will forgive me."

His intense expression dialled down slowly and I got that reasonable, logical face I loved so much that he wore SO well. It suited him. In fact, he could have CREATED the damn look.

"Look Craig," He began. "I get you're sorry but-"

"Huh. That's to bad." I smiled and I was sure his green orbs would have popped out of their sockets if we were in a cartoon. "Now I can't let you go until you forgive me. And for a minute I actually believed you were smart. You're really deceiving people Kyle." I teased him with all my might, getting his face ruby red with frustration.

"What? Screw you asshole!"

"Fine, fine." I said calmly. "Then answer this question and you can go."

"What?"

"What's you favourite food?"

"What!"

"What do you like to eat." I said slowly, like he was some kind of idiot. "Just answer."

"Uh...um? Seafood?"

I stepped off of him with a smiling and we never practiced the stances again.

Linguini Tutto Mare, despite what people think, is not a complicated dish. All you need is the linguini, a bag of frozen assorted seafood, and some sauce. I picked all those things up from the store before I went home to find Ruby and Kyle already busy at work. The dirty look she shot me would have killed a heard of cows, but I was immune.

"What's for dinner?" She growled.

"You'll see!" Tweek giggled, skipping not far behind my with one of the grocery bags at hand. Moments later he came back out of the kitchen, phone in hand, ordering Kyle to call his mother and tell her that he'll be staying over for dinner. With Tweek, you really couldn't 'politely decline' because he would guilt trip you about it until the day you die.

Eventually, we all sat down at the table together in silence as I set the plates of food in front of everyone. I put down Kyle's last so I could have to time to sit down and see his reaction. At first, he didn't seem to react, but then, being the smart little Jewboy he is, everything feel into in his head. His eyes lit up, and an embarrassed smile spread across his face.

"Dude, seriously?"

"Eat it!" Tweek insisted.

Kyle took a bite and smiled. "It's good." He said once he had swallowed (this sentence sounds like one of Tweek's perverted ones).

"Good, so...am I forgiven?" I asked and did my best to grin at him. It must have been a success since he looked up at me from his plate, strands of spaghetti dangling from his mouth and seemed to be taken aback.

"Yeah, bribe me with food." He joked, but I had a feeling I was forgiven for sure. I mean, how romantic am I? But probably to him it's 'Craig Tucker being nice for some reason'.

Once he had left, Ruby had disappeared again (thank God) and Tweek and I took the alone time to do a recap on what happened. Personally I hated to this, but some magazine told Tweek it was good.

"How romantic are you!" He squealed.

"Yes, yes, I know, I am amazing."

It was great, that Kyle was beginning to see what a normal person I could be. Maybe with this leap, we could get closer, hang out more often, I don't know man. It's overwhelming because I've never found myself in situations like this so I had no idea what to do. Even IF, in some parallel universe, we were dating, I can't even picture it! I'm starting to understand what Tweek means when he says something is too much pressure.

"Oh my God Craig! He is SO into you!"

Say WHAT now?