Thank you all who have reviewed, I wish I could reply to everyone, but I can't.

BTW Paper Heart, i wanted to ask you something, but I can't because you aren't a real account. Why wouldn't Tweek stutter in the future? I know it must be a stupid question, but I really don't know why, so I kind of freaked out while writing this chapter that I was doing something wrong ^^;

I'm so happy to finally incorporate my second favorite SP pairing into a story, because this is the first time for Christophory (or if you prefer; Grestophe)

"A favor?" I asked in disbelief. "A favor from me? You hate me." Craig just continued to stand on my doorstep with a slightly frustrated look on his face and shivered, and I realized he wasn't angry at me, he was just trying to keep his cool, and his warmth at the same time. I stepped aside to give him some room while sighing to myself. "Alright, come on in."

He walked inside happily enough for his usual apathetic self, and took off his boots by the door, then waited for me. I walked right passed him as he had me, and sat in my family room on the sofa once again, turned the TV back on, and acted like it was South Park, the dead of Winter, and Craig Tucker had not just shown up on my front step.

He came as well, but only far enough to where he was hanging around the edge of the family room still waiting for me to say something, so eventually I looked up over at him carelessly and asked, "So what is it?" In a way that he understood I could care less right now because I wanted Stan to be standing in my family room, not him.

He looked away from me awkwardly and said, "I need…" He sighed in his own displeasure. "I need a love potion."

I had gone back to my show by then and had scarcely heard; it was a miracle I had even heard at all, "Oh, well you're not one to beat around the—WHAT!" I screamed, sitting up and looking directly at him after processing what he had said, then lowered my voice to a still pretty pissed off whisper. "Who the hell told you!"

He looked back at me with his usual apathetic-ness, "Cartman, who do you think?"

I shot straight up then, ready to stone Cartman, "That fucking piece of fucking shit!" I screamed, because at this point, I really didn't care. "Fat fuck promised he wouldn't tell anyone!" I turned back to Craig then, ready to stone him too. "And you! You have some nerve to come to my house and bother me, then ask for a love potion yourself, after I worked my ass off for Cartman making him an illegal potion!" I yelled, walking over to him. He was less fazed by my outrage than Cartman was, but he might have expected it from me. "What? Do you think that I don't have anything better to do all day? That I'll just laze around and make love potions for all you lazy-assed creeps, who can't get dates on your own! I have a life, and I'm not spending it in Juvenile Hall!"

"Calm down, Broflovski." Was all he said in reply. "I only need one."

I was beyond pissed off now, "Oh really! You only need one; that's perfect! And what happens after I give it to you? Are you going to tell everyone just like Cartman? Just tell everyone, 'Hey! Kyle's making love potions! Let's all go to his house and smother him with our selfish needs!' And guess what? Soon everyone will come asking, saying 'I only need one.' And by that time, I'll have dropped dead, or been taken to court. Do you get it now?" I asked, then stood there leaning over him waiting for his reply.

Eventually he looked me straight in the eye and said with complete seriousness, "It doesn't matter if you don't want to or not, you're going to make me one."

At first I was too shocked to say anything, "What!" But the words came out like nothing. "Okay, now listen to me; I am not making you a love potion. End of story, you know why? Because they're illegal, because I don't trust you, and because you're REALLY PISSING ME THE FUCK OFF!"

He continued as proud as before, "You made one for Cartman and he used it, I can turn you in to the police any time I want."

I was about to walk away when I heard him say that. I whipped around and shoved my finger into the middle of his chest, "Are you trying to blackmail me?" I asked, even though I pretty much already knew the answer. "You know, I thought Cartman was an asshole, but this is a whole new meaning of the word! You think now that that's been said, I'm going to change my mind?" I turned away and walked back to the couch. "I'd rather the police come and drag me out of this house by my hair." I said, then flopped back down on the couch and gave all my attention back to the TV.

I imagined by then Craig would just give up and go home, and that would be that, but five minutes passed, and I glanced over from my seat and he was still standing there, waiting. I turned back to the TV a second later, then looked back at him. He almost looked… sad. I sat up trying to see any better, and sure enough.

I groaned, turning off the TV, and walked back over to him, "You had something else to say?" I asked.

He was silent for a minute, trying to look like nothing was bothering him, "You know what it feels like, don't you?" He asked through gritted teeth, though looking to the side of me this time.

"What are you talking about?"

He looked up at me now, almost scowling, "I bet you've thought of doing it yourself." He said, then gave the biggest—and creepiest—smile I've ever seen him manage. "We have more in common than you think." The smile disappeared, and he became serious again. "You think, 'The only way they'll ever like me is if I use this potion.' Well, let me tell you something; that's what everyone thinks. I know it must be against your morals, or something like that, but you have to help me because… there's nothing else I can do."

I began to think about what he was saying, then shook it off, "I said no, Craig!"

"Do you want me to beg you?" He said louder this time. "Cartman paid you a hundred dollars, I can pay you more."

I was appalled, and starting to get freaked out, "I don't want your money!"

He grabbed my shoulders to keep me from backing up and getting away, "Then what is it! There has to be something you want! My money? My clothes? My teeth? Just say so, and it's yours! How about my life? It's not important to me, what's it worth to you? If you want it, go ahead and have it."

I grabbed his wrists trying to get him off me before I start going crazy, "Craig, stop! What the hell is wrong with you!"

He was smiling again, "So, it's my dignity then? Is that all you want? Fine! I'll say it! I'm in love!" Neither of us moved or spoke another word after that. His smile was gone, and he let go of my shoulders, then walked toward my front door to leave empty handed.

I kind of understand what he meant now when he said we have more in common than I think. Who ever… they must be amazing… I've never seen Craig like that. I bet no one has. Usually he just sits in class by himself and never so much as grins. I guess… being so desperate made him kind of loose control.

God I'm going to hate myself for this, "Craig?" I called as he opened the door to leave. He stopped, but didn't turn around. "Alright, I'll do it."

He turned around and walked back to me with his usual lifeless stare, "One hundred dollars in your locker tomorrow," He said, "I'll be waiting for you there."

I rolled my eyes, "Yeah, now go before I change my mind."

I followed as he walked back to the door and stepped outside, but before I closed it, he turned back around and gave me the finger. I wasn't really surprised. A second later he put it away, and reluctantly said, "Thanks." Then turned back around and walked down my driveway back to his house.

I closed the door, then headed down to the basement. I might as well get this over with. I had to run back upstairs to get my facemask before I started, then came back down. I still had plenty of ingredients left over from last time I could use, it was a good thing I got three lemons. I got out all my stuff from the fridge and laid it out on the table to begin making a new love potion. I flipped my notebook back to the love potion page and refreshed my brain on what to do. I boiled a cup of water and turned it into tea, then put two tablespoons into my flask. I was pouring out half a tablespoon of strawberry juice over the flask and it spilled, so I had to start over.

When adding the five grams of spices and other ingredients, instead of taking out my brother's scale and turning it on and measuring it all out right, I just grabbed a pinch of each in my fingers and put it in, and it worked fine. I went to grab my nutmeg to measure out the 1/8 tablespoon, and accidentally knocked it off the table, and it shattered on the floor. I cursed myself, then collected enough off the floor to put into the measuring cup and dropped it in.

The potion looked like the same bright red color as last time, so I'm pretty sure I got it right again. Now all I have to do it put in another drop of blood.

I looked down at my gloved wrist. I hadn't taken off my sock since lunch. I slid it off quickly, wanting to get it over with, and picked up my knife that I had used before. This is the last time I'm doing this. The scab had almost come all the way off anyway because of being rubbed against my sock so much, so I just cut down the first line and squeezed out another drop into the potion. After I put my glove back on. At least it's in the same spot, so it still won't be that noticeable, but the scab came off, and I cut it again, so it might scar now.

Doesn't matter, I have sock gloves.

I dropped the knife and took off my facemask, then took the potion over to Sammy like last time. I let him out and he immediately ran to me and climbed up to my shoulder to comb my hair. I pulled him off and put him on the ground, then gave him a spoonful of the potion. I was a little worried about the potion this time because I had used pinches instead of actual measurements, but I was more confident then over the weekend.

Once he was done he looked back up at me ready to climb again, and I watched his pupils dilate weirdly like the first time I gave it to him, and he started running around me making "ooh" noises like before. He went and shook the fake tree branch, then came back to me just like the first time. I pulled him off and put him back in my cage before he could actually start humping me.

I took the rest of the potion and put it in a little jar then corked it, and took it up stairs and put it in my backpack pocket for tomorrow. By then it was late after having to start over while making the potion, and I went straight to bed without walking Sammy or anything.

I had another new nightmare that night. I was walking down the hallway at school to my locker, with Craig's potion in my backpack. I saw him leaning against the locker next to mine when I finally made it. Inside my locker was the hundred dollars all crumpled up laying next to my French textbook. I went ahead and handed Craig the potion when no one was looking, and he smirked evilly at me before running away down the hall with it.

I was a little suspicious at first, but then I thought, 'It's Craig. The same Craig who came to me the day before saying if I wanted his life I could have it.' I let the smirk go, but it came back when I saw him turn at the end of the hall and race off to Stan's locker area. That made me a little more than uneasy. I went ahead and followed after that.

He slowed down to a walk after turning the corner, then stopped to talk to someone, so I hid around the corner to listen to their conversation.

"Hey, I heard you hate Gatorade, and I found this sports drink at the supermarket yesterday. Maybe you'll like it better." I heard; it was definitely Craig.

"Oh, thanks dude." Came a second voice, I recognized it immediately.

I ran out from around the corner, "Stan, stop! That's not—!" But by the time I had made it to them the jar was empty.

Craig turned around and looked at me after hearing my voice, Stan didn't even glance at me. He was stuck staring at Craig with weird dilated eyes.

"I told you we have more in common than you think." Craig said with the same smile as the day before, and I woke up.

I sat up in my bed shaking and angry and confused. Craig… didn't really like Stan, did he? That can't be what he meant when he said what he said, he was talk about—what was he talking about? He meant we both liked someone enough to give anything for them, right? That's the only really logical answer, that or he really is going to use the potion on Stan. Fuck! Why does this always happen!

I looked over at my clock; it was seven thirty—time to wake up anyway. I jumped out of bed, put some clothes on, and ran downstairs to my backpack and opened my front pocket. The potion was still in there, unscathed. I sighed as I zipped my bag back up, if Craig does like Stan, and is planning to use the potion on him, why should I care? It's not like I ever had a chance with Stan anyway.

I sulked into the kitchen while rubbing my cut through my sock and sat down for breakfast. Ike ate all my Life yesterday, so I had to eat Honey Bunches of Oats, which sucks. My dad said good morning to me from behind his newspaper, so I gave a grunt in reply, then went back to my cereal. He put down his newspaper and watched me for a minute before opening his mouth.

"So, Kyle, how you been doing lately? I feel like I haven't seen you in a while." He said.

I glanced up at him, then went back to my bowl, taking long, drawn out bites, "Fine." I said plainly, wanting the conversation to be over. "I've just been doing lots of schoolwork recently. Classes are busy right now."

Dad seemed a little more surprised than he should, "Oh, alright, well, if that's all, then I guess nothings wrong." He said, he was probably worried about why I sulked into the kitchen and stabbed at my cereal so much. "But," He began to smile, which confused me enough to stop eating for a moment and pay attention to him, "Valentines Day is coming up next month, have you thought about who you're going to ask to be your Valentine?"

I went back to my bowl, "Valentines Day is a Christian holiday, Dad. Plus it's girly." I said, before taking another spoonful of globs of shit stuck together with honey.

He didn't seem to want to let the subject go that easily, "Just because it was started with St. Valentine doesn't mean you can't make some cards and pass out candy." He said.

I was almost done now, and very eager to leave, "We don't pass out cards and candy anymore, I'm in fifth grade. That's little kid stuff. Why is it so important anyway?" I asked while standing to take my bowl to the sink.

I was rinsing it out as he answered, "Well, I just wanted to know if you were going to ask any of the girls in the class to be your Valentine." He said, I wasn't really shocked. "I always hear you mumbling to yourself about someone special, are you going to ask them?"

If I had been drinking anything, I would have done a spit take. I turned around, dropping my bowl in the sink and asked, "You hear that!"

Dad looked a little surprised at my reaction, "Oh, well yeah, but not everything, just a couple of words. Is it Bebe Stephens?" He asked. "Didn't you say she had a crush on you last year?"

I ran out of the room for my bag, and raced to the door, slamming it behind me before my dad could ask anymore questions. This is bad, this is very bad. If I know my dad, he will not let this go any time soon. I went ahead and hurried to school while trying to push it out of my mind. If my dad ever found out… if my mom ever found out!

I got to the school just as the fifteen-minute warning bell rang, and hurried to my locker. Craig was standing there waiting for me just like he said he would, and handed me the hundred-dollar bill himself.

"Do you have it?" He asked as eagerly as you would imagine.

I tore through my front pocket until I found it, then handed it to him, "Yeah, I got it." I said, then watched as he took a thermos out of his water bottle pocket on the side of his bag and open it. He took the jar from me and emptied it into whatever drink was in there, then screwed the thermos cap back on. "Hey, uh, Craig?" I asked as he did this. "Who is this for, anyway?" I couldn't help but ask.

He clutched the thermos close to his chest and scowled at me, "Don't ask me that, Broflovski." He said aggressively. "I appreciate that you did this for me, but that's my business." He said, then turned and walked away down the hall.

I watched him as I slipped the money into my pocket, and I became nervous as he walked closer and closer to the end of the hall, and I prayed he wouldn't turn left. He did.

Remember what I said earlier? That I shouldn't care that Craig's going to use a Voodoo potion on Stan because I never had a chance with him? I didn't care about that right now. I began running down the hall after Craig because I didn't want Stan to be under Voodoo control, I wanted him to live how ever he wanted to; not be forced to fall in love with Craig. I turned the corner, and ran down the next hall of lockers, but Craig was gone, and there was no one else in the hall. I ran all the way passed the boy's bathroom, then came back when I noticed the door was still closing, and went inside.

The bathroom was empty, but the gym lockers and showers were behind the door across the room, so I ran to the door and opened it, only to close it a second later. Craig was only a few feet away from the door talking to someone with his back toward me. I opened the door ajar and watched.

He was talking to Tweek, and he even handed him the thermos.

"Here, you said you lost your other one, so you can have mine. I filled it with coffee this morning already." Craig said calmly.

I covered my mouth with my hands trying to stop myself from gasping out loud.

Tweek took the thermos in his hands and unscrewed the lid, "Ngh, thank you." He said, and lifted it to his mouth, then practically chugged it down.

When he was done, he capped it and put it in his backpack, and I watched eagerly to see what would happen when Tweek looked up. He did to thank Craig again, and I stared at his eyes waiting to see if they'd dilate, but they didn't. I squinted trying to get a better look, maybe I was too far away to tell? I tested the potion, it should have worked, but Tweek isn't on his back gagging for air yet either, so maybe I just couldn't tell?

"Hey, uh, Tweek?" Craig asked uneasily after Tweek had looked at him. "Do you… feel different?" He asked, Tweek just stared at him weirdly then shook his head. "Well then, do you… like me?" He asked.

"Oh Jesus!" Tweek screamed, the caffeine in the coffee was kicking in… "W-who told you?"

"No one told me." Craig said calmly. "So you do?" Tweek looked like he might cry—or scream again—but he managed to nod twice.

He nearly cringed when Craig put a hand on his shoulder, "Oh shit! You aren't going to hit me, are you!"

Craig shook his head, "No." Then his hand went from Tweek's shoulder down his arm to his hand. "We really need to get you to stop drinking coffee. It's not good for you."

I could see Tweek tense up at first, but he almost seemed to relax, "A-alright."

I guess it did work after all. I guess I just was too far away to see the dilation. A second later the five-minute warning bell rang, and they began walking toward the door to go to class; the door I was hiding behind. I panicked and ran for a stall, and locked the door behind me not a second too late before the gym locker door flew open and they walked across to the hall door. I heard it open and close, then nothing at all, so I let out a sigh of relief; it wasn't Stan after all.

I opened the stall and walked out so I could go to my class, but I jumped when I heard, "Enjoying yourself, Broflovski?" Craig said leaning against the door to the hall.

I turned to him, "Dude, I'm sorry, I just… I needed to make sure it wasn't—"

"Stan?" He asked, finishing my sentence for me, then he got up and opened the door to leave. "You're secret's safe as long as mine is." Then he left me still standing there dumbfounded.

I went to class then, Mr. Garrison was writing useless notes on the board. I took my seat next to Stan who was turning his piece of paper different colors, but only purple and red back and forth. That was probably because he was watching Tweek and Craig whispering to each other in the back of the room suspiciously.

I nudged him in the middle of class, "Dude, Stan, what's up?"

He looked over at me while still changing the paper's color from red to purple and back with his spell saying, "Hm?"

"I said, 'what's up?' " I repeated.

He heard me this time, but didn't stop with the paper, "Oh, nothing, it just seems like everyone's acting weird lately, don't you think? First Wendy, now Craig and Tweek, what's up with that?"

I just shrugged.

"…So the Romans took over the Greeks, and stole their stupid polytheistic religion, but changed all the God's names because they were unoriginal bastards. So the Greeks got all pissed and made the copyright whatever, then they all died within the next hundred years anyway…"

"I don't really know." I lied. "Are you sure you aren't jealous of Cartman or anything, dude?"

Stan groaned, "I told you I'm over her!"

"Stan! Kyle!" Mr. Garrison yelled, making up look up from our conversation, and Stan's paper turn back to white. "What did I just say!"

I looked at Stan, "Uh," I said, "you said that the Roman city-state Sparta, lead by Gerard Butler, did a suicide mission against the Persians, and that it was the stupidest movie you've ever seen."

Mr. Garrison looked unimpressed, "That is not what I said, but it was a stupid movie, so just pay attention from now on." He said, then went back to his desk to continue talking.

"Holy shit, we got lucky." Stan whispered over to me. "That was awesome."

"Yeah, thanks." I said back, smiling.

He thought what I said was awesome, now my life is complete. Well, not really, but it did make my day. The rest of history was a drag, we had a test on Greek Mythology, which I hadn't bothered to pay attention to, but Stan seemed to care less as I watched him out of the corner of my eye. He hardly looked at the test, he just kept staring into no where while smiling and having his pencil fill in his answers on it's own. I wish I was a good enough Witch to have my pencil do my writing for me.

Soon, history ended, and Stan and I went our separate ways until lunch. I went to math class and spent most of it doodling stick figures of Stan. After math was English, then lunch, which I was looking forward to. I sat with Kenny, Stan, and Butters, and I saw across the lunchroom Cartman and Wendy by themselves at their own table eating pudding together, and Craig and Tweek sitting with Token, Clyde, Red, and Bebe. That was their usual seat, but because I was from a distance I could see them holding hands under the table.

I looked back at my own table then, more specifically Stan, who had his eyes on the turkey sandwich in his hands, and I smiled to myself. Kenny noticed this and hit me under the table with his knee, so I turned to him.

"What're you thinking 'bout, Kyle?" He asked mockingly. He always thought I liked Stan, but he doesn't know I really do.

"Are Zebra's black with white stripes, or white with black stripes?" I said automatically, he frowned.

"Ooh!" Stan said, speaking up. "Speaking of Zebras, I saw Craig whispering to Christophe during science this morning." He said.

"What does that have to do with Zebras?" I asked.

"Who's Christophe?" Butters questioned.

Stan was the first to answer, "He's that French kid who smokes in the playground on the marry-go-round. You know, the one with the shovel and the French accent, 'Ze Mole'." Stan's eyes suddenly narrowed. "He hangs out with that cocky asshole, Gregory."

"He's in my French class." I added. "And Gregory is not a cocky asshole, he's nice."

Kenny spoke then, "Getting to the point, what were they talking about?"

Stan only shrugged, "I don't know, but it must have been important; Christophe really listened to him, and that kid doesn't talk to anyone. It seems like Craig's talking to everyone these days, he wouldn't shut up during history when he was whispering to Tweek."

"Whatever." I said. "It's none of our business."

We dumped our lunches then and headed outside. Everyone else was already out there, and our usual four square was taken, so we sat around the swings instead. There was only one swing left, so naturally Butters got it. Kenny was pushing him, so I had my eyes elsewhere. I was watching Craig and Tweek as they sat on top of the jungle gym, then turned my gaze to Cartman and Wendy who were leaning up against the vending machine. I felt kind of bad for Wendy again, and I would have felt bad for Tweek, but Craig wasn't Cartman.

I turned to Stan to take my mind off of them, but he was engrossed in whatever he was watching. He was staring at Christophe and Gregory yelling at each other on the marry-go-round. They were always yelling at each other.

A minute later and the bell rang, so everyone started to head inside. Butters jumped off the swing, and he, Kenny, and I were walking toward the door when I stopped and turned around.

"Stan!" I called to him; he was still in the same spot as before. He looked up at me. "The bell rang! Come on!"

He left the swings and ran to join us, then left to go to his next class with Butters, and Kenny ran off as well, so I walked to French alone. I didn't really care; I always walk alone. Inside the French room, only a few kids were sitting in their seats. I took mine in the back of the class and waited for everyone else to join.

The last person to come in the door was Christophe, who took his seat a couple of rows away from mine. All throughout class he kept turning in his chair and staring at me, so I tried to ignore him by paying attention in class. It didn't work that well. He just kept glancing back at me; it was beginning to freak me out. This seems to be happening a lot recently.

My last class was PE, which I had with Stan, but we couldn't talk because we played dodge ball and he was on the opposing team. Usually we just played 'Humans vs. Everyone Else', but we can't anymore ever since in Witch class we learned the telekinesis spell. Stan was using that all he wanted, while I was a complete open target. Plus, he had Pip on his side, and damn can that human throw a ball. I was surprised I made it more than ten minutes.

Once PE was over, all the humans got to go home, so Stan and I walked together to Witch class with a few of the other students. Because there are so many Witches at school, they have to have a different class for every grade, and our class is with Wendy's mom. My parents tell me that when she went to our school, she was the best Witch in her class, just like Stan, but they don't really know, because they lived in New Jersey until I was born.

Wendy was actually here today and in her seat, Craig was too and next to Damien, though I couldn't help but notice neither Christophe or Gregory were at their table, but they came in together only a minute later. Now that everyone was here, Mrs. Testaburger started class the way she always did; collecting homework.

Everyone opened their backpack and dug around looking for their assignment, but I didn't bother. When she came to our table to pick it up, Stan handed her his, and she put his in her stack. Then she held out her hand for mine, but I hadn't done it.

"Kyle." She said sweetly. "Homework."

I sighed, now I really wished I had done it, "I didn't do it." I said plainly.

Everyone's heads turned unnecessarily dramatically toward me; could they really all not believe that I would have just skipped homework for once? It's not even that big of a deal.

Even Mrs. Testaburger looked more shocked than she should, "Oh, uh, well, I guess I'm going to have to give you a zero then…" She said, then walked to the next table to continue, and everyone turned back to their conversation.

Stan still looked surprised, "Dude, you never don't do your homework!"

"Double negative, Stan." I said, trying to act like it didn't bother me. Of course it bothered me, I was getting a zero. "And so I forgot to do it one night, so what?"

He shook his head, "You just don't forget to do homework," He said, "especially you. Is something the matter? You've been acting kind of weird lately."

I scratched at my sock glove under the table, "No, everything's fine, don't worry about it. It's just this once." I assured him, and even managed to fake a smile. "Don't worry about me."

He didn't smile back, "I worry even more when you tell me not to, you know that." He said, leaning back in his chair. "I just want to make sure you're not in danger or anything."

I scoffed, "I'm not in danger, I just didn't do my homework."

We didn't talk the rest of class after that, but we did say good-bye to each other before I had to go to Witch Doctor class. Witch Doctor class is taught by Craig's dad, only because he was the only Witch Doctor to volunteer for the job. He doesn't teach us anything, and most of class he spends behind his desk reading magazines while the class runs wild poisoning each other with potions. I was kind of glad Craig is only a Witch, so he went home already.

I was partners with Wendy during lab and we had to make a potion that temporarily increased your body strength tenfold. The entire time we were grounding ingredients or boiling water, she just wouldn't shut up about Cartman. I was beginning to get a little annoyed, but by then our potion was complete and Mr. Tucker was reading his magazine, so we went off and did our own thing. Wendy went into the corner and pulled out her cellphone to text Cartman, I walked over to the window to see if Stan was waiting by the fence; he was. He was writing something in his notebook and smiling.

I stared at him the rest of class out the window. I wish I didn't have to go to Witch Doctor or Voodoo class, I just wanted to go home and hang out with him for a while. At the same time I didn't, because in the back of my mind I knew something would happen if he came, and I'd end up screwing everything up like usual.

I sighed and dropped down from the windowsill to sit in my desk until class was over, which wasn't long after that. Everyone left now except for me, so I walked over to Mrs. McGilroy's class across the hall. Today's lesson was the study of some old guy who made the Voodoo poison spell, and how he used it to assassinate some famous guy I've never heard of. The lesson dragged along like it usually did, the only thing I had to keep me awake was thinking about what Stan said during lunch about Craig and Christophe.

Eventually, class was over, and I got to leave. I ran for the door, eager to leave, then I remembered Stan was outside waiting for me and I got a horrible feeling in my stomach for some reason like earlier in Witch Doctor class. I left the room and went down the hall and out the school, and he was still standing there.

He turned and saw me coming before I could run, and picked up his bag, "You ready to go Kyle?" He asked.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

He looked worried again, "My house, dude. We always do homework at my house on Tuesdays. Are you sure you're feeling alright?"

This was my chance, "No, I feel kind of strange, maybe we should cancel for today." I said, he looked disappointed. "It's just this once, I swear. I'll see you tomorrow." And without saying good-bye, I ran home, leaving him there confused and alone.

I felt kind of bad for leaving him like that, I mean, he had been waiting there for me for two whole hours. It couldn't really be helped now though, I was already at my driveway. I walked up to my door and opened it; everyone else was out again today, so I dropped my bag by the door and took out my homework to work on in the family room.

I was on number five of my math homework—because instead of doing it in class I had doodled—and my doorbell rang. I looked over at the door; neither of my parents or Ike should be home yet. I got up to answer it anyway.

The bell rang again before I could get there, so I yelled, "Just a second!" But before I could grab the knob and open the door, it was forced open and swung in, banging the wall as it did.

I had jumped back in surprise, then looked back and saw it was Christophe standing in my doorway with a shovel in one hand and a lit cigarette in the other.

"I'm coming een." He said boldly, then stepped inside toward me.

"Hey, you just can't—" I began to say, but he glared up at me making me shut up, then flicked the ash off the end of the cigarette.

He cleared his throat and slung the shovel over his right shoulder, "Leesten to me, Broflovski, because I'm only going to zay zis onse. I heelped jou last year when you needed to rescue your Canadian freends. Now, jou are going to heelp me. Tucker told me vhat jou did for heem, and I vant ze same, comprennez Vous?"

I stared at him completely baffled, "You want me to make you a love potion?" I asked, great, not this again. "Who the hell would it even be for!"

He gritted his teeth at me, "C'est un secret."

I had had it with everyone and love potions by then, "No! No fucking way! I made one for Cartman and Craig, and it's been bad enough, I'm not making one for you!"

He looked more pissed off than I was, and took a step forward toward me, making me take one back. "Oh really?" He asked, taking another step so I took one too. "Tucker thought jou would say ozerwise. So apparently jou deed not hear me last time, and leet me tell jou, I do not like to repeat myseelf. Jou will make me one!" By now my back was against the wall, and he had his shovel in both hands with the blade close enough to my face that you could take it as an assault.

I still managed to fight down the intimidation, "And if I don't?" I asked as menacingly as I could manage at the moment.

He took his left hand off the shovel to take the cigarette out of his mouth after a long drag, then blew a whole bunch of smoke in my face, "Zen it will be your head." He said smiling. "I will be waiting for jou at your locker…" The blade of his shovel turned my head right as he pressed it to my jaw saying that he meant what he said. "And don't be late."

With that, he turned and left, using a spell to slam my front door behind him. Once he was gone I slid down the wall to my knees and just started freaking out and crying. My left hand was automatically on my neck where the shovel had been, and my right hand was automatically on my cut rubbing it through the fabric. Did Christophe really just do that? Did that all really happen? It was kind of hard to tell, I felt like I was still dreaming. It had to have been the scariest moment of my life.

Fuck. My. Life.

comprennez Vous "understand?"

C'est un secret "that's a secret."