A/N: Posted on Valentine's Day - nice. Two apologies: 1 - the delay, 2 - how short this chapter is, and rushed it may seem. I haven't been able to concentrate on this piece so well since I've been focussing on my current novel. To attempt to make up for it, I have condensed two planned chapters into one, and it'll accelerate the story, like a lot. Which I need, since I can't really take on a long fanfiction project now, this will have to end soon. Hope you enjoy this anyway, and review!

CHAPTER THREE

My parents tell me that my favourite game as a child was, so originally named, "spaceman". I would take any item within my immediate reach, since a game I was never fond of was "hide and seek", and thrust it onto my head. I would then proceed to run around making an array of bizarre sounds. I would then roll around on the floor, claiming to be floating. One time, I was convinced that it would be a good idea to thrust a goldfish bowl on my head, with the fish and water still inside. I've always found it strange that my parents never bought any more fish after that.

Pretending is as easy for me now as it was then. Except this game is quite different. It's not one I actually want to play, either. Neither does the other participant. You'd think that I was playing enough already, but no. I decided to play two games at once. Which is a bad idea, since the two sets of lies can collide and get confused.

The newest game started on the close of an already fucking bad day. I had been suspended. Again. Surprise surprise, my parents had no interest in cheering me up. It was only for a day, and it hadn't been my fault. Apparently, beating people up who insult your twitchy friend, who is an easy target I must admit, is against school policy. Who knew? It seems I had broken this stupid rule too many times, and that ass-fucker of a principal thought I deserved a holiday. I would have viewed it as such, if I hadn't known that my parents would blow it completely out of proportion. Trust them to get all pent up over some stupid bust-up, which hadn't even been a challenge. That Kevin kid had pretty much crumbled as soon as I touched him. Serves the fucking pussy right.

Anyway, as expected, as soon as I had stepped onto the hellhole which was legally labelled my 'home', I had not been met with cuddles and pink fluffy bunnies. Not that I would have liked that much better. I had thought that my loving mother was actually going to hit me that night. It had been a rather impressive show, in fact. My parents had managed to keep their voices at a fairly high level almost constantly for over an hour. The humour had been lost on me at the time, though. I was rather preoccupied with attempting to salvage what I could of the situation. Which I failed miserably at, I might add. Our conversation had ended with the sentences "What the hell use are you? You're a fucking waste of space" and "If you're not going to fucking bother, then why should we? Get out of my fucking house, you shithead." Judging the evidence, I would not count that as a success.

Now, contrary to popular belief, I am not a heartless dick. I don't hate my family as much as I should. In fact, sometimes, they can be fairly fucking decent, as far as families in South Park go. Even my sister. So, when I left my house instantly, I did discover a sneaky tear working its way out. Not that I had let it. Craig fucking Tucker doesn't cry. Craig fucking Tucker doesn't let anything get to him. I would never admit, though, that Craig fucking Tucker actually does. Craig fucking Tucker cares.

Ironically, or maybe it's not ironic at all, I ended up at the last place I would've thought I would've wanted to be at that point. Before I had known it, I was sitting on Tweek's bed with a steaming mug of coffee clasped in my slightly shaking fingers.

What the fuck was I doing there? I'm still not sure now. I would've thought I'd have gone to Token's or Clyde's; I was far closer to both of them. And why, when Tweek had asked me what was wrong, did I state indifference, lie, and glare at him? I knew, then, that's my family's growing aggravation and near hatred of me would remain a secret to my friends. That's when game two had begun. Time to lie about something else to the same people.

Tweek's alarm at my initial presence had been extremely evident. Tweek's father's frustration at my presence had also been evident. He viewed me as the boy who drove his son to have spasms in the middle of his coffee shop. It had only happened that one fucking time. Well, maybe a few more times after that. I had only been trying to help, that latest time. It had been part of my 'be-nice-to-Tweek' campaign, which still needed a lot of work. Tweek had obviously been run-down due to holding up the place himself that day, and I had innocently offered to help. I had been so convinced that this was a good way to show Tweek I was his friend, that I had near dived over the counter and began to put on an apron. Looking up, I had noticed that Tweek had started to twitch violently, and then started to fling curses everywhere, then promptly fell on the fucking floor. Then his father decided to come in, and I had been chucked out. It was a good thing I hadn't decided to put on one of those crap uniform caps Tweek wears, or he may have gone into a coma. Seriously, that kid cannot accept me doing anything nice for him without a near-death experience. He was making my campaign unnecessarily difficult.

In the end, it turned out to be a good idea to go to Tweek's that night. My problem with him had momentarily distracted me from my family of pricks. As I attempted not to notice the quick glances he gave me, and ignored it whenever he scooted himself closer to me, I managed to be distracted from my situation.

Apparently it was getting harder for him. He was behaving even more irrationally at the last sleepover, his voice getting higher as I pretended to sleep. Clyde must be some sort of robot to sleep through this. Or maybe Tweek spiked his coffee with sleeping pills. Hell, I wouldn't put it past the guy. He'd drugged Kenny once, it was funny as hell. Tweek had been convinced that Kenny had made a pact with Satan to kill him, and drag him down to hell the next time he died. Tweek had then proceeded to buy sleeping pills, crush them into a 'complementary' coffee at his shop, and then lock Kenny in the basement until he fucking died, in a way that Kenny couldn't bring Tweek with him. Tweek was either badass, or completely psychotic. The rest of us assured Tweek that the pact would be broken now, and that he was safe. All because Kenny had been a fucking wasted one day, and slurred to Tweek, "You smoking, baby.", which Tweek thought was a reference to burning in hell. Even though Tweek's apparently queer, he doesn't realise when another guy is hitting on him. He also didn't know that I'd already got to Kenny myself, and warned that man-whore to stay away from my friend. Wanker.

Anyway, from the sounds of the panicked squealing at the last sleepover, it sounds like Tweek might be close to telling me. Fuck, I hope he doesn't. It's easy enough to handle at the moment, when all I have to do is ignore everything he does concerning me, and try to be a mate to him without him getting the wrong idea. If he said it out loud, well, that would pretty much fuck it all up, I reckon. What the hell would I do? What are you supposed to do? I have no flipping clue. I wouldn't accept it, that much is obvious, I'm not a fucking fag. Maybe I should ask someone what to do. God, that was a stupid idea. Who the hell would I tell? What would I say? Ignore that malfunction of the brain, stupid Craig.

Tweek had set up some shooting game for the GameSphere, which turned out to be oddly relaxing. Murdering pensioners and babies and any other fucker that comes my way is like my version of a massage. I would buy one of these games if my fucking parents would let it in to the house. They say I'm 'corrupting' my little sister. Like she could be any further corrupted; she lives in South Park. I tried sneaking it in and they found it. They're nearly as good detectives as the Hardly Boys.

Coffee and mindless killing, not a bad way to spend an evening. Tweek didn't seem to be having a bad time either. It was kind of hard to tell, though. It always is, with him, he twitches even when he's having fun.

"CRAIG!" He screeched, ridiculously loudly. He damn hurt my ears sometimes. "Be careful!" I snorted when my game character instantly swerved in the car and exploded.

"You shouldn't have distracted me." I smirked at him as I reset the game. Poor kid, his face looked completely stricken.

"GAH! Craig! I'm sorry!" He started to tug at his shirt frantically, and I responded by just laughing at him.

"You're insane." I ruffled his hair, grinning.

"I'M NOT!" He cried indignantly. "My parents say I have ADD, which is Attention Deficit Disorder, it's something I can't-"

"Tweek, shut up." I chuckled again. Tweek's paranoia would never, ever fail to amuse me. He may be my friend, but he is just asking to be laughed at. I had to laugh again when I noticed that, on my command, he was pursing his lips tightly together. Completely insane.

It reminded me of the first time he had come to my house. It had been after I had started to get over the whole fucking 'put-me-in-hospital' event and started to not hate him. 'Like' may have been a stretch. Token and Clyde had been with us, of course. We were having the sleepover at mine for a change, since Clyde was getting annoyed at having it at his all the time. Little did he know that soon they would all be at his house. As expected, my family had failed at being welcoming. When my mother flipped Tweek off, I thought he was going to have heart failure. After the rest of my family continued to flip him off during the evening, I had to make him ridiculous amounts of coffee to calm him down. It had pretty much been an all-around disaster, yet fucking hilarious. Me, Clyde and Token had forgotten to warn him about the swearing, since we were all used to it. When dinnertime came, I told Tweek that he should just not say anything, and maybe my parents would leave him alone. He had taken me too literally. My mother wanted to ask 'her son's new little friend' some questions, and he refused to answer any. This earned him a major flipping off from her. The reaction from Tweek was the expected one. We had to take him home immediately.

My phone rang at that moment. Tweek wasn't the only one who jumped, especially when I saw the name on the display. Did I really want to answer the phone to my dad? I sighed and picked it up, bracing myself for a yelling at.

"Craig." His voice was monotonous rather than raised. That concerned me even more. My dad only used that tone when he had given up. "We've packed up your crap. No need to thank us. It'll be on the sidewalk when you want it." He hung up.

I wasn't going to cry. I simply fucking refused. It had really happened. They had finally done it. I noticed after a moment that I had dropped my phone. I made no move to pick it up. I couldn't believe this was finally happening. All the times they had threatened… we'd fought before, so I didn't… I… I was homeless. I would become like one of those fuckers who crawl around asking for 'change'. But seriously… I felt completely fucking paralysed. I couldn't, and didn't want, to move. I always had known that they'd had problems with me, but I hadn't known they despised me that much. My family… the only ones I'd known since birth… hated me. If the people who knew me in and out hated me, what chance did I have? Was I… unlovable? Fuck. I swallowed hard, trying to keep myself in control. So what? They hated me. What should I care? I hate them. Right? Right?

"Craig?" I heard the little voice beside me, but didn't want to look up. What the fuck would I say? What was I supposed to do now? I was all… fucking alone. My paralysis broke when I felt a hand tap my shoulder. I sighed and looked up, meeting Tweek's gaze.

Tweek was staring at me like… I didn't even know. Concern? No, deeper than that. It was a look I'd never seen before. It was reminiscent of the look he'd given me in the cafeteria that day, except much more… just more. I had tried to pull my gaze away, but I was trapped. I could hardly even blink. I could feel Tweek's desire pounding in my own head. The want. I could see then, everything he had ever felt for me, everything he wanted to say. This was someone who thought I was worth something. Worth caring about. This was someone who certainly didn't hate me. And that meant everything.

Before I had known what I was doing, I was pulling my lips away from his. As soon as I saw the surprise in his eyes, I realised what I had done, and instantly began to panic. What the fuck had I been thinking? So I did the only thing I could've done. I punched him. Then I ran.