Here's chapter four! Thanks for reading and stuff. I put a scene with Christophe in there because he's one of my favorite SP characters. Hope you enjoy!

-M

For the remainder of the day, I can't stay focused. My mind is back to lunch, thinking about Craig. What the fuck was he doing? And why?

When I get home, I drop my backpack and head straight for the shower. The hot water melts away my worries temporarily, but when I get out, he's in my mind again. I stare at myself in the mirror, looking at the small mark Craig left behind. Was he even gay, like I was? Maybe he had multiple personalities. Maybe he's part of a government study. Maybe he's working for the government and the mark he left on my neck is going to poison me and kill me! I twitch more than usual, my mind exhausted from all this thought. I pull on a pair of sweatpants and an old shirt and drag my backpack up the stairs. Might as well start my homework.

The problems stare at me menacingly on the page. I try to fight back and finish them as soon as possible, chugging down a cup of coffee in the process.

"Stupid math problems...—ngh!—" I can't even say something alone in my room without an outburst. I sigh again, but finish the Algebra questions, and resume thinking about Craig.

Suddenly, my phone vibrates. I scream and dig it out of my pocket. It's a text from an unknown number.

Hey, we need to talk.

Even though I know who it's from, my fingers tremble as I write back.

Who is this?

My phone vibrates again, almost instantly.

It's Craig. Look, that moment after lunch...I didn't really know what came over me. Can you be kind enough not to tell anyone about it? Even better, can we just forget about that and move on?

There's a lump forming in my throat. I really like Craig, and he pretty much asked me to wipe my memory of the best moment of my life.

Sure, no problem. Is all I write back. After that, I put my phone on silent. Reading texts from your crush is too much pressure.

Though this problem had been dodged, I know it wasn't gone. Craig never told me he didn't enjoy it, that he didn't like me that way. In a way, it makes me both hopeful and scared. It seemed to me that there was two sides of that guy—one of which he kept hidden under a stony exterior. Craig Tucker really is a softie, even though he doesn't show it. I can't help but grin at the concept. The newfound happiness inside me makes

me numb enough to sleep—a rare occurance.

Craig doesn't look at me as I open my locker. His eyes are glued to the dial, focusing intensely on his combination. The memory of the scene that happened twenty-four hours ago makes me cringe and laugh softly at the same time. I head to my first class, which I didn't have with Craig. I take my seat and pull out my notebook, writing some more, and occasionally twitching, making unintentional gray marks on the paper. Finally giving up, I close it, cursing under my breath.

"'Ello, Tweek. 'Ow are you?" Christophe takes a seat next to me.

"Ngh! Fine." I say shyly.

Christophe smirks. "Really? Are you sure you are just fine? Because you and Craig seemed to be 'aving a lot of fun yesterday."

I feel all the color drain out of my face.

"What are you—ngh!—talking about?"

Christophe rolls his eyes. "I'm pretty sure you know what I am talkeeng about. You and Craig were fooling around after lunch. I saw eet wiz my own eyes."

A wave of panic sweeps over me as I try to explain to him without drawing attention to myself.

"No, we were—ngh!—we were...well, I d-don't know but...he t-told me that he didn't mean to—ngh!—do it..." I trail off as I finally quit trying, putting my head down on the table.

"Oh, but don't you see? 'E did mean it, Tweek." Christophe puts a reassuring hand on my back. I stiffen.

"Wh-what?"

He laughs. "I see ze way 'e was lookeeng at you yesterday. Eet's obvious zat 'e was trying to 'ide eet because 'e's afraid people will talk." I squeak a little in response.

"H-how do you know?"

"Cliche as it seems, cherie, ze French do know a zing or two about zis type of theeng." he murmurs quietly. "Now get yourself togezer, because everyone's lookeeng at us."

After that incident, the next few classes are a blur. In Algebra, I see Craig shooting me glances as I watch Kenny try his ridiculous pickup lines on Kyle. They seem to be working to some extent, because Kyle is blushing a deep red. Kyle looks over at me, an excited twinkle in his eye. Craig was right. It really did seem like he had the hots for Kenny.

"Tweek, could you tell us the value of x in this equation?" the teacher asks. For a moment, I disregard the comment, thinking she means someone else. Then Kyle elbows me in the ribs and I twitch.

"Go on. Tell us the answer." the teacher persists.

"I-I..." I stutter, realizing I wasn't paying attention. Desperate, I look at the equation, substituting and solving the parts of the problem. Everyone is staring at me expectantly. Normally, I would be able to solve this relatively quickly. But now, it's too much pressure. I start to panic.

Suddenly, in my peripheral vision, something catches my eye. It's Craig. He stares at me, mouthing a number—forty two.

It takes a while for me to understand, but I say the answer just in time for the old hag of a teacher to think I was being sincere.

"Good, I suppose you were paying attention." she mutters, turning back to the board.

I beam and mouth "thank you" to Craig. He gives me a quick smile, and then returns to his notes. I stifle a sigh. I could get addicted to those smiles if I wasn't careful.

Scratch that, I already was addicted to his smile.

At lunch, I think about what Christophe said to me earlier. He could've been right—Craig may have tried to take back the moment because he chickened out. But there might be another explanation, though I can't really think of anything that doesn't involve the government somehow.

"Tweek, you okay, man?" Kenny asks, knitting his brow. "You look kinda like you're in la-la land there."

"Oh...s-sorry." I stammer. "It's just a lot of stuff to take in. I'm still getting used to this school, and-ngh—having real friends and s-stuff."

Kenny nods understandingly, but Kyle looks unconvinced. I guess he decides to forget about it, because he continues to blush at Kenny's sleazy romantic comments.

I almost jump when something touches my foot under the table. It's someone else's leg touching mine. I know at once whose it is.

God damn, why was this kid messing with my head? First he starts by jumping me after knowing me for about six hours, then he takes it all back, then he just does it again. What the fuck was his problem?

Craig's foot is running up and down my leg. It feels nice, but I have to pull away. From across the table, his grey eyes burn into mine. I break the contact, looking over at Christophe, who has a permanent shit-eating smirk etched on his face.

He mouths, "I told you." I glare at him and flip him off.

Craig's stony gaze flickers a little, then turns into the hungry, seductive look he was giving me the same time yesterday. My face goes red, as if by magic, and I start to panic on the inside.

Soon enough, this guy is going to drive me insane.

Tadaa! There's gonna be some partying in the next chapter, so stay tuned! Remember to review, because it makes me happy and motivated to write and stuff :3