A/N: Haha, this is a fast update. but they're pretty short, so whatevah. AH do what AH WANT. Thanks for the quick reviews you guys! It was a pleasure to wake up to, and I'm glad you're at least amused so far.

Enjoy~

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I want to kick someone in the teeth.

Hard.

We're at his house because I know that if he came to mine, he'd give my mom the finger and that would be the end of my life as a student of South Park High. I know it. It's an unavoidable outcome. Some might say I have good intuition, but seriously, it's just common sense and nothing else.

There isn't a passing day where Craig Tucker hasn't raised his middle finger a minimum of thirty times, and most of them are directed at a teacher, or me.

Which is why I'm so pissed off that we were paired for this project in the first place.

And even more pissed off, because I'm so sure he's sniffing me again.

I whip my head in his direction as he leans over my shoulder, resting his chin there and gazing down at the action plan for dividing our work says that I've already written up. I try hard not to punch him in the face for touching me.

"I don't want to do the research. That's the most boring part."

I sigh, switching him with editing.

"And my spelling sucks."

"Well what the hell do you expect, Craig? I'm not doing the whole fucking thing by myself, as easier as that as beginning to seem."

I hate how he's looking at me. I swear, this must be a vendetta from Peru that has stuck with him for all of these years, because he never gives me peace. Between the mockery and the uncomfortable lurking, I just don't want to deal with this anymore. I'd rather be paired with Cartman. Cartman. At least he has more than rocks in his head, despite being the biggest douche bag of all time. But Cartman isn't even in my advanced English class, so the lesser of two evils was not available to be a choice.

He's still staring at my notes over my shoulder, and I finally get the nerve to shove him off, watching him barrel roll across the carpet of his bedroom, laying like a dead fish on the floor. Taking an irritable breath through my nose at his silence, I turn at him with narrowed eyes. There seems to only be the way of politeness to get through this - it's my last option.

"What would you like to do?"

"Um, I don't know. Maybe go to a movie or something later..."

I sigh. "In reference to the project, Craig."

He looks at me slowly. "Dude, I've read MacBeth, like, three times over. We don't even have to go through the first fifty steps of your mission plan. It's a summary project, dude. We only have one page between the two of us. Why are you drawing things out so unnecessarily?"

I stare at him, but to be honest, I'm kind of wondering this a bit myself. Excuse time. "Because I want to make sure we split everything fairly."

He sits up off the floor and sighs, giraffe-craning across his floor to pull open the drawer of his bed side table and pulling out a pack of smokes, lighting one up. "So you want to take this over a course of a week instead of one night, because you are so hellbent on not sitting and working together with me?"

Shit. Maybe he's sharper than I thought he was. Crumpling my paper up in defeat, I throw it at his garbage can, and slide my hands against eachother slowly in preparation for my own torture.

"Alright. Lets do this."

He nods, taking a seat beside me. We're so close we're thigh to thigh, and I'm not sure if I should feel uncomfortable or not. Stan and I sit like this all the fucking time for projects, but then again, we're actually friends. Shaking it off for now, I pick up our papers and stack them neatly, before picking up my pencil. He likewise picks up his - no, my pencil, but it's so gnawed on I don't say anything about it for it back. No wonder Craig has such fucked up teeth.

He pauses, and then reaches over to the radio. At first I expect something really stupid but his radio station is actually the one I listen to, so I don't mind. He cracks his knuckles, and then licks his lips, before speaking at last.

"So she wipes the blood off of her hands as an icon of guilt from the crimes..."

The fucking hick would start with the blood.