How long has it been since I've updated this? Oops.

Chapter Five: Recurring Battles.

The first time my braces caught the bottom of Tweek's lip, I yelped and pulled away to notice the stream of blood already beginning to surface from the cut. We were only fifteen and in our freshmen year of high school, sitting outside of Tweek's house after school. I ran my tongue over the metal in my mouth, letting out a soft groan then covered my face with my hands. Overall, I was embarrassed and I didn't even want to look in Tweek's direction. But a few moments later, I felt his hands cup over my own in attempt to pull them away.

"It's fine, C."

Pulling away from his grasp, I groaned once again and fell backwards onto the grass patch we sat on. With the sun beaming right in my eyes, I placed an arm over them to block it out muttering to myself about how much I hated my braces and couldn't wait to get them removed. That wouldn't be until my junior year of high school. Originally they were supposed to come off the year prior but my parents missed the appointment and never got back to it until months later. I cursed them for that. Always tried to convince my mother to make the call to the dentist, but she always said she would – then never follow suit.

"Can we go inside?" I asked.

I heard a 'thump' next to me, then slightly lowered my arm to see Tweek laying down beside me. The blood on his bottom lip was dry now, and just looking at it bothered me. So I scooted a little bit closer to the blonde, then stuck my tongue out to lick the substance off. I could tell by the way he twitched against the grass, he was slightly uncomfortable and I couldn't help but laugh as I caught the rest of his bottom lip between my own.

Looking back at it now, I'm sure if his parents were to casually glance out their front window and witness the two us laying in the grass in mid-kiss, there would be some kind of conflict. But luckily, both his mother and father were at the coffee shop at the time, so we didn't have to worry about a thing.

That is until Stan Marsh and girlfriend just so happened to walk by on the sidewalk.

His arm was wrapped around her waist and Wendy had her hand in the back pocket of Stan's jeans. I think I pulled away and sat up the second I noticed the two walking our way, and when I took sight of them, I let out a laugh, then covered my mouth to somewhat muffle it. I don't know why I found it as funny as I did, but it may have had to do with the fact Tweek and I were almost caught kissing by our classmates.

By the time, they were crossing in front of the Tweak residence, Wendy Testaburger held her glance on me the whole time. Her brown eyes never leaving my sight, and never leaving my article of clothes.

I thought I was dressed pretty casual – high waisted jeans and a button-up I received from my cousin – and I was pretty sure Wendy noticed me in class today as well, so the fact that she was staring at me the way she was, with utter disgust plastered to her face, I rolled my eyes then gave her the middle finger… which resulted in the couple to stop mid-step and Wendy to call to us:

"What the hell was that for, Tucker?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "I don't know – for being a bitch?"

"Maybe I wouldn't have to be such a bitch, if you conformed to your own gender roles."

"Fuck you."

Wendy was stepping on the grass now, no longer holding onto her boyfriend, who stayed behind. There was a slight stomp in her force, the grass underneath her platinum coloured flats, leaving a small trace of a footprint left.

"How many times do I have to remind you," She began. "Before I get it through your fucking head? You're taking away from us females, Craig. You have no right."

"You give me the same speech, Wendy. When's that going to change?" I stood up and crossed my arms over my chest. "Day in and day out, I have to endure your bitching about women's rights and gender roles. Maybe if you actually listened to my situation, you may understand. But you're too straight laced to even have the common courtesy to do that. So fuck you."

My head hurt. Due to the yelling, but I also blamed it on the heat, because Tweek and I had been outdoors for a while now, and underneath the sun, that I wasn't completely used to it. So I glanced down to Tweek, looking him right in the green of his eyes, then I turned my back to Wendy and the others and started my way to Tweek's house. I wasn't even sure if he was following me – not even sure that I cared – but I left the front door opened anyways, then ran upstairs to the bathroom.

It was the following week after the incident in the locker room, and I dreaded going back to third period. I didn't want to step foot into that space, didn't want to be surrounded by the same kids who refused to help me or the walls that listened to my cries and echoed the sounds. The moment my foot stepped on the tile of the room, my heartbeat started to run at a faster pace. My breath caught within my throat, and my eyes felt a tinge of tears hit the surface. Why did I still have to continue this course? Why couldn't the teacher have somehow tweaked the situation so I wouldn't be put up for being beat once again? I bit my bottom lip then continued to walk to the back where my locker resided, and I mentally prayed I wouldn't be fucked with today.

To my advantage, I wore my usual blue jacket I seemed to love so much, with a plain black t-shirt I stole from my father a while ago. My jeans could pass for either gender and I wore some tennis shoes I found in the back of my closet not too long ago that I used to wear all the time in the seventh grade. I clung onto the strap of my messenger bag, making it seem like it was the only barrier I had, and when I turned the corner to where my locker was, I cringed at the sight of boy who smashed my face into the tile. I still had the sore on my bottom lip from where I bit the hell out of it. I tried covering it up with some nude lipstick I found that belongs to my mother, but as the day progressed, it would fade and the sore would became more noticeable.

He waved to me. He fucking waved to me, and at that moment, I felt like vomiting all over the floor. But I didn't, instead I held on tighter to my messenger bag and pushed past him to get to my locker.

There was something on the floor that caught my attention, and I froze to stare at it. On a single tile, there was a smudge of blood smeared across it, and that was the moment I dropped my bag and hunched over to vomit all over said tile.

Some of the other boys in the room yelled in disgust as the substance splattered against the ground. Some traces of hit it my sneakers, and even bounced up to sprinkle onto my jeans. My throat burned the second time a smaller amount of the substance came out, and afterwards I was coughing and spitting just to get the taste out of my mouth.

I wanted to cry. I wanted to curl up on myself and cry and not have to worry about anything else. But I couldn't even do that, because the moment I stood up straighter and ran my hands over the front my jacket, I was being pushed into the lockers, with hands on both shoulders, making hard to resist. Right in front of me was the same boy who beat the fuck out of me the last the time. I squinted my eyes in attempt to not look at them but one of the hands on my shoulders left and went to grab me by the bangs, forcing my head upwards in his direction and I reopened my eyes his way.

The look on his face I can only express as disgust yet at the same time glee, like he was proud to have me in such a state of helplessness. A sharp pain spread throughout my bottom lip almost as though that part of my body remembered what it had endured the first time we had conflict.

There was a smile spread upon his facial features and I flinched underneath his hold as though that smile could do harm to me. A cry stuck in the middle of my throat along with the rest of the bile that wanted to escape. I wanted to vomit again – do it all over the kid in front of me – but I held it in, even swallowed a bit of it down. Then, my voice let out a whimper to let the other know my defeat, and that's when my head banged against the locker I was pushed onto and the cry in my throat screamed out.

I don't understand what he had against me. If you had to look at it from my point-of-view, I didn't do anything wrong. I couldn't see myself as a threat towards him... so what was the problem?

Pain spread throughout the crown of my head as he hit it onto the locker once more. My eyes wandered around the locker room and I noticed everyone else had left which put me into the same predicament I was in last time. Taking in a deep breath through my slightly opened lips, I glanced upwards to the boy's eyes (which were a deep sapphire shade I had to admire) then I struggled against the grip he held on my bangs, and called out:

"What the fuck is your problem?"

The look on his face almost showed he was taken back, but then he grinned down at me and loosened his hand around my hair. "You."

"Why?"

He muttered something about not needing a reason then followed by committing an act I never saw coming. Keeping his one hand on my shoulder to continue to hold me in place, the other let go of my hair and started to slide down the side of my face. I noticed his face become closer to mine and I closed my eyes as tightly as I could. Seconds later, harsh lips were touching my own. I wanted to thrash about, struggle against his grip, but instead I didn't move an inch. I was frozen in place as my mouth was pried open and his tongue entered to touch my own. Disgust overcame any other emotion. I breathed slowly through my nose trying my keep myself sane during the whole thing.

The moment the hand on my face curled so that what little nails he had could dig into my cheek, I flinched underneath him feeling my skin begin to slightly tear. That was when I finally regained the ability to move, and I shoved him off with as much force I could muster. Within seconds, I was hunched over for what seemed like the hundredth time today and spitting out whatever came up my throat.

I'm sure the janitor would be pleased to find yet another mess he needed to clean due to me in the locker room, but that would teach them not to miss a spot of my substance while cleaning up like he did last time.

The only time I ever saw that student was during our gym period and I was thankful that I didn't have to endure him any other time in my day. My mouth tasted like vomit throughout the rest of the day, no matter how many times I asked my teacher to get a drink from the water fountain, it just seemed to like to remain in my taste buds. It was my sixth period now which I thankfully shared with Tweek and I felt him staring at me from his seat. I turned my attention his way, and noticed a small frown spread upon his perfect lips.

"What happened to your face?"

Cocking my head to the side, I asked, "What do you mean?"

Tweek touched my left cheek where it stung from contact. "There are scratch marks running down your cheek…"

I quickly clasped my hand over the spot Tweek touched and lightly sighed. Somehow after the incident in the locker room, I managed to forget the part where the kid dug his nails into my skin. I hadn't checked in a mirror just how bad the damage had been afterwards, and I only assumed it wasn't that bad. But after Tweek pointed it out hours after it happened, I came to the conclusion other students noticed and I groaned at the blonde.

"It's a long story."

"Is it?" He questioned. "Or do you just not want to tell me?"

I turned my attention back to teacher in the front of my room, let go of my cheek, then placed my head on my desk and closed my eyes. "Both."

"You keep too many things to yourself, C."

"I have a lot going on." I muttered. And it was true, I did have a lot going on, and for some reason I didn't want to drag Tweek further into it than he already was. What was wrong with that?

At this point, I was done with everything, and as the teacher continued to drone on to the class and Tweek snuck glances my way every once in a while, I fell into a deep sleep in attempt to forget my life and go into a different one in the dream realm because that seemed to be the only thing I had left at this point.