For a good ten seconds, Craig and I stared into one another's eyes in utter silence. I hated how quiet it was in that moment, the reality of how dead the world would become showed most when no one spoke. Even so, I took this as an opportunity to look at him - I mean really look at him. His entirety, his eyes, face, body posture.. Nothing about him gave off that he cared about my little confession. I looked back to his eyes, so empty and stoic as if everything we've ever been through meant absolutely nothing. Like I was a crumpled up piece of paper littering the floor and he just happened to glance my way. I knew he was straight, so I knew that I would be rejected. I just.. I wasn't expecting him to stay completely silent.

Craig Tucker was not at all phased by what I had said and that just about killed me.

Then he averted his eyes and changed where his line of sight could reach, still in complete silence. I couldn't take it anymore, so I stood up and rubbed at my eyes - which were leaking with tears, I might add.

"N-nice to know y-y-you care," I spat, turning around and hurrying off. I didn't bother running. He wasn't going to chase after me like in some stupid romantic movie anyway.

"I'm in love with you."

Tweek Tweak hadn't even stuttered when he full on said it. At first I thought he was just fooling around, playing some sick joke. That wasn't the case. I had to search everywhere in his eyes and facial expression for some hint of doubt that he was in love with me, but I found none. How was I supposed to even react to such a statement? I couldn't say it back. It wasn't true, I wasn't 'in love' with him. I could never fall for another guy, even if I wanted to. I'm straight.

I looked away from him, trying to think of something, anything I could say. What was I supposed to say?

"N-nice to know y-y-you care," said Tweek. I looked back toward him and noticed he had stood up by this point. Now he really was crying. He looked so hurt.. So broken and torn apart, as if he had just witnessed his closest family member die. Then, he walked away.

The second Tweek's back was turned to me, I stood up. I couldn't just let him walk away, could I? But.. What was I supposed to say or do? Run after him and apologize? Apologize for what? It wasn't my fault I didn't hold the same feelings he did.

When the blonde was fully out of sight, I fell back onto the bench and stared at the pond.

"Holy shit," I groaned, rubbing at my tired eyes.

What the hell was I going to do now?

■ ■ ■

The next school day, Clyde walked up to me and slung an arm around my shoulder, "So, why'd Tweek run off like that?" I flipped him off. "Yeah, he has always been pretty skittish. I guess I'm not surprised." I pushed him away. "Rude!" Another flick of the middle finger and I was down the hallway.

I didn't have time for Clyde's stupidity. I needed to think of what to do, what to say. Actually, if Clyde hadn't been so focused on us then this never would have happened! I sighed at the thought. There was no use in pointing fingers. It was my doing. I shouldn't have stayed silent. I screwed up yet again. Why do I always screw up? Tweek didn't even show up at school today. I'm supposed to be working with him after school. Maybe then I could get a word or two in with the kid.

I walked out the door. It was break and I needed a cigarette.

"Tucker," nodded Christophe as I approached. He held out his pack and I gratefully took one, using his lighter to burn the end. Silence. I slid down to the snow, squatting down and staring at the white sheet below. "Twitch?" he asked. I glared up at him but said nothing. "Did you tell him?"

I took a long drag before responding, "It's none of your business."

"Did he respond that bad?" man this guys' accent was really getting on my nerve. He's been living here for who knows how long and he still hasn't picked up on a different accent or gotten rid of that awful thing. I stayed silent. "Hm, that doesn't seem like h-"

"I didn't tell him," I cut him off before he could say anymore.

"Obviously," said Christophe. I looked at him. "I wanted you to tell me on your own," he blew out smoke rings and watched as they descended to the sky, disappearing after a moment of two. "So," he said, "what really happened?"

"Why should I tell you?" I asked, growing more and more irritated.

"Who else is there to tell?" asked Christophe.

"Token. Clyde," I said with a shrug.

"Token.. Clyde.." he thought a moment, "The black man and the clown?"

I nodded.

"Maybe go to Token, but I wouldn't trust the clown," said Christophe, his cigarette now gone. He took out another one from his pack and frowned at the fact that he was nearly out.

I finished my own soon after, then stood up, "Bye."

"Hey," Christophe said, stopping me. "Take some for the road," he handed me the entire pack, which only held two more. Then he took out a lighter and tossed it to me, "Give that back to me sometime."

I didn't even hesitate. I knew I'd need the stress relievers for late, so I simply nodded and walked down the side of the building to the back door, where I slipped in and made my way to my class. I decided to talk to Token at lunch because Christophe was right, Clyde wouldn't be able to help me in the slightest.

But it seemed like an eternity before the bell for lunch finally rang. When it did, I was the first kid out the door and one of the first inside the cafeteria. I sat at an empty table and waited. Other teenagers swarmed in and found tables to sit at, got into the line, and buzzed around like annoying bees. I continued to wait.

And wait.

And wait some more..

I finally took out my phone and dialed his number. It rang once, then three times, then finally he answered.

"Hey - Dude, stop," said Token on the other line.

"Token," I said, but was soon interrupted.

"Sorry. What I was going to say was - CLYDE!" I waited for whatever was happening to just stop, "Anyway-"

There was shuffling, some yelling from Token, then the voice of Clyde, "You've reached the voicemail of Token Black! Leave a message after the beep!" Then, the phone beeped.

And I felt really, really stupid. That was his voicemail.

I sighed and hung up, slipping the phone into my pocket and burying my head in my arms. What the hell was I supposed to do?

"Hey, Craig!" came Clyde's voice again.

I flipped off the direction where I thought he was in and he laughed. I felt him sit down across from me, so I lifted my head to look at him.

"Token's out with some girl right now," Clyde pouted. I raised an eyebrow at this, "Yeah, apparently they met at the dance and he really likes her or whatever.

"Where are they?" I asked.

Clyde shrugged, "He wouldn't tell me where he was going! Said he thought I'd stalk them or something."

It was quiet for a minute before I gave my response in a hushed tone, "I don't blame him."

"What's that supposed to mean?!" asked Clyde, looking at me desperately.

I flipped him off, "What were you doing, anyway? Lunch started a while ago."

"Aw, I didn't know you cared about me!" Clyde swooned. I narrowed my eyes and he sighed, "Bebe wanted to talk to me."

"Oh," I responded.

"Don't you think Bebe's cool?" asked Clyde. Without even waiting for my response, he continued, "She's super cool. But she's always hanging out with Wendy and them, and whenever I go up they get all quiet. I don't think they like me!"

I looked at him. He seemed genuinely depressed about the friends of his girlfriend not liking him. I sighed lightly, "She still likes you, so I don't think it matters."

"Yeah," Clyde nodded, biting into his mystery lunch from the cafeteria kitchen. "Hey, where's Tweekster?" I shrugged. Clyde frowned in thought and soon the bell rang. Time to get back to class.

■ ■ ■

While the period of time between the break and lunch hour last for an eternity, the time from after lunch to the end of school went by way too fast. I wasn't at all prepared to face Tweek at work. So, of course, I walked slowly. My mind filled with thoughts - what would happen? Would he say anything? Act as if the entire thing never happened? Would I say anything?

As I approached the café, I took a deep breath before opening the door. But when I did, I was surprised to see Mrs. Tweak rather than the boy himself.

"Craig! You're late," she scolded. Oh, right.. Tweek normally covered for me when I was late..

"Sorry, ma'am," I said, walking into the back and grabbing my apron. I accompanied her behind the counter and together we served the customers during the after school rush.

"Tweek's been awfully down," said Mrs. Tweak once the store quieted down. "He won't tell me what's wrong! Do you know anything?"

I stared out the window of the store, not wanting to really answer her.. Of course I knew what was wrong. It was all my fault. But how was I supposed to explain that to his mom of all people? "He'll be fine."

"I don't know," she said doubtfully, "He hasn't been this depressed since Junior High."

Junior High. I was pretty depressed in those years as well. Most likely for the same reasons. I nodded, glancing her way, "I'll take care of it, Mrs. Tweak. Don't worry. He'll be okay."

She stared at me, giving me an odd look before her facial expression turned extremely joyful and she nodded, "Alright, Mister. I'm counting on you."

I sighed and looked away. I'm counting on me, too.