Notes: I got this idea while I was in the shower. I haven't written any really good Creek since the completion of Unlucky, so I was glad when this idea came up. The boys are still only nine and in Mrs. Garrison's fourth grade class. Written in Craig's Point of View. Please, please send me a review. I'll reply to it, I promise! But since I'm leaving tomorrow, it'll take a while for me to reply. So now all that's left to say is "Enjoy!"

During a pointless lecture our teacher was in the middle of, I started to doodle in class. Mrs. Garrison was still terrible for going off-topic like she/he did, and I had no clue why we'd need to know what Hilary Duff was eating that made her remain so skinny. Frankly, I didn't care. I hated this class.

"Craig!" I heard the teacher yell at me. Shit. "Yes?" I replied in a bored tone, barely looking up to meet her fiery gaze. She sighed angrily. "Are you paying attention?"

"Yes," I replied. She wasn't convinced. "Then what was I just talking about?"

I had no clue. "Uh… umm…" I stuttered, receiving a few snickers from my classmates. I stared at them angrily. "Craig!" Mrs. Garrison called. "Go to the counselor's! NOW!"

"Why?!" I yelled. "What did I do this time?!" All I had done was glare at a few students! "You flipped off the class, asshole," the teacher said. "What?! No, I didn't!" I replied. At least, I don't think I did. I don't remember doing it…

"And you just flipped me off. GO. RIGHT NOW." Ha ha! Okay, that time I did it on purpose. I hate Mrs. Garrison. I obediently got up to leave the room, flipping her the bird behind her back, and slammed the door to annoy her. Serves that bitch right.

I made my way down the familiar hallways to Mr. Mackey's office. I was pissed now, so I didn't wait to be admitted. I just opened the door and walked in, slamming it shut behind me. "Mmkay, Craig, what are you here for now?" he asked in that annoying tone of his. I flipped him off. "I supposedly was giving people the middle finger," I replied icily. "Accused of doing something I didn't do."

"But, Craig…" the counselor started. I didn't notice I was flipping him off till he quickly mentioned it. "You're always flipping people off, mmkay."

"No I'm not! Why does everyone keep saying that?!"

"Look, Mmkay. I think that maybe you keep this habit going because you have some emotional problems, mmkay. You seem to be lonely and anxious. Does that sound about right, mmkay?" I shrugged. What the fuck was some idiot like this doing telling me about how I felt?! And how the Hell would he know that I'm constantly feeling lonely? I mean, I have friends, but I can't really connect with them, you know? I always feel like I'm so different. It's weird. I mean, I'll join in with their games and play around with them, but that feeling of awkwardness never goes away. I feel like such a loner.

"Mmkay, Craig. Go back to class," he said, dismissing me. "And give this to your teacher." He handed me a piece of paper. "A detention slip? Fuck!" I exclaimed, slamming the door again. Now I had to stay after school? This day couldn't get any worse.

--

So, as 3:00 rolled around, I remained in my seat and took out some paper and a pen. I began to write a short letter, like I tend to do when I have something on my mind. I scribbled the words down, not really paying attention to what I wrote. I looked up a moment to see Mrs. Garrison leave the room, saying she was going to get a coffee or something. Ha. Coffee… it made me think of Tweek. And when I thought of someone, I usually got a mental image of said person. I smiled, seeing Tweek in my mind's eye with a cup of coffee in his hand, smiling delicately as he shook nervously. I always thought it was funny when he had coffee. His eyes would always shine and light up, making them seem more exquisite then they already were. Yet I shook my head and went back to writing my letter to nobody, wondering how long I would be kept in for today. Pretty soon I read my letter over and realized that I sounded like a complete and total pussy. Maybe that was a reason I felt so alienated… I had a larger vocabulary and was slightly more poetic than the average fourth grader. That was probably a result of being so lonely and bored all the time, so I actually read books… I shook my head. Fuck, I have to stop thinking so much.

As I finished the last two lines of my note, I heard a rustling sound coming from the coat room. "Ack… where did I put it?" The small strained voice sounded out. Almost immediately after that statement, Tweek Tweak walked (or rather, stumbled) out of the coat room and over to his desk. "Gah! I hope I d-didn't lose it…" He muttered, twitching violently. "What if the gnomes took it, too?! GAH! It's too much pressure!" I looked over at him with curiosity. "What did you lose, Tweekers?" I asked. He jumped about a foot in the air at the sound of my voice. "ACK!" He cried. "Wh-who… Oh, Craig. H-hi." He said, pulling on his shirt nervously. "I… I, umm, lost my t-textbook," he admitted. "I n-need it for my homework tonight."

I nodded. "Is this it?" I asked, pulling a book out of my desk. His face lit up. "Y-yes! That's it! Where did you f-find it?"

"On the floor in the coat room after recess," I explained. "I was going to give it back to whoever it belonged to… Ack!" I felt him tackle me and push me right out of my seat. "What the hell are you doing?!" I asked, flipping him off. At least, I think I did. I'm not sure. He squeezed me in a bear hug. "Thanks so much, Craig!" he cried. "Y-you're welcome!" I said. "Now please let me go before I suffocate!"

"S-sorry," Tweek said. "I d-didn't mean to hurt you…"

"It's okay," I said, getting up and dusting myself off. I went back into my seat, and noticed my letter had gone. My eyes widened in horror as I saw Tweek reach over to grab it. "What's this?" He mumbled to himself, picking it up and starting to read it. "It's… it's nothing!" I said, panicking. Shit. He was reading it… I felt my face reddening. Dammit! I saw him look up at me when he finished, a look of shock on his face. "W-wow… I never knew…" he whispered. "I thought you always looked so sad…" he muttered. "But I had no idea you actually were sad… and lonely…" He looked down at his feet. "Umm… if you want, I c-could…" He trailed off, blushing a bit. Wait… blushing?! What was he doing?

"Hmm? What is it, Tweek?" I asked, my voice frail and high-pitched. I could've sworn I sounded like that squeaky ball I used to tease Stripe, my guinea pig. He looked up at me. "I could be your… f-f-friend," he suggested, looking at me with wide, pleading eyes. I was touched. Was someone asking to be my friend? Finally, after being so lonely for so long? It was then that I realized that he had the same eyes as me. He was lonely, too. Nobody ever really liked to hang out with him because of his paranoia and ADD. I felt terrible.

"Sure, Tweek," I said, smiling widely, my own cheeks warming up. "We can be friends." I felt him tackle me again, but more gently this time (if it was even possible). I remained on my chair, and he pulled apart from me happily. "Yay!" He cheered quietly. "I have a friend now." He looked so cute at that moment, and I was so grateful for what he had given me… a friend. Someone I could talk to. Someone who I could trust and who could trust me. I silently thanked him and gave him a small kiss on his lips. He jumped after the second we were connected and started to shake. "Ack…! Umm… Craig, why did you…" He shook his head. "Nevermind," he said. "I sh-should go now. When you get out of detention, do you want to come over and play?" He asked. I nodded. "I'd like that," I replied. "Great!" He said. "I'll go tell my mom. See you soon, Craig!" And then he was gone. My grin wouldn't fade… I looked down at the desk to my letter.

My letter! Where was it?

--

Tweek smiled to himself as he held the letter. He would keep it as a reminder of what he had gotten. A new friend, and a kiss from someone he'd had a crush on. He scanned the messy writing over once more.

To Anybody,

I'd really, really like someone to know how I feel. I'm lonely. I feel like nobody I know can really connect with me. I feel so different and alone. It… it kind of hurts to know this. I guess that all I really want is someone I can talk to and that can respond to me. Having a guinea pig is great and all, but I don't think Stripe can really tell what I'm saying to him. I want someone who understands. I guess all I need and want is a friend. A friend who can make these feelings of despair leave my body forever. Someone to quench my thirst for a companion. Anyone…

I need a friend. Please be my friend.

From Craig.