Token shook his head, "No, he's not mad at you. He's mad at himself. He likes you too much to be mad at you."

Token and I were sitting on his grandmother's porch, smoking cigarettes and talking about Craig. This had become our regular routine for the past couple of days. I watched the fumes escape from my mouth and whirl in the cold air. I blew out excess smoke from my nose.

"All he's been doing these past three days is leaving cryptic, one worded sticky notes on my fucking locker," I angrily said, "He's avoided me at every cost."

The black male next to me leaned back againt the wooden porch couch and took a deep drag of his cigarette. He stared off into the distance, blowing out smoke rings and thinking. I liked Token a lot, he was really calm and a good person to talk to. He was a great listener and offered advice that seemed wise beyond his teenage years. I had been coming over every day after school to hangout with him and Ma. I stayed at their place for a couple hours, making sure to leave before Craig arrived with Clyde. I wasn't avoiding him, I just didn't want to start any drama if he came into contact with me.

"He's not doing it spitefully," Token finally responded, "Trust me, Craig isn't a person who wants revenge or holds grudges. He just doesn't really give a fuck about anything besides Ruby, us, and you, apparently."

"What about Bebe?"

Token let out a laugh. I didn't know what he found so humorous, but hearing his laughter brought a smile to my face. I took a puff of my cigarette and shrugged, "What?"

"Craig likes Bebe, but no where near as much as he likes us, dude."

"You're saying he's all about bros over hoes?"

Token laughed harder, "No, dude. You're fucking funny."

I rolled my eyes. Token wasn't answering what I needed to know; why would Craig care about me more than Bebe? I could understand why he would care more about Clyde and Token, but did I really have that much of an impact upon Craig's life?

"It's three o'clock," Token said, glancing at his watch. It was a nice watch; it looked expensive and real, not like a shitty knock off brand, "If you want to avoid Craig, you should leave."

"I'm not avoiding him!" I whined, "I just don't know why he's avoiding me!"

"Why don't you ask him?"

"Because, obviously, he doesn't want to see me."

"Maybe he's waiting for you to approach him. Craig's a softie sometimes."

I leaned forward and balanced my elbows on my knees. I held my chin in my hands. I thought about what could possibly happen if I went up to Craig and asked him why he was avoiding me. I couldn't come up with anything dramatic, mainly because Craig would more than likely shrug and not answer why.

"He talks about you a lot," Token broke my concentration. I turned my head towards him. My ears perked up at the information. I looked at him, asking for some sort of elaboration.

"He says how you're really good with Ruby," Token continued, "How you love movies and books. How you're the first person in this god forsaken town that he likes."

I grunted, "Yeah, avoiding me really tells me that he likes me."

"He does."

I sighed loudly. I lifted myself from the wood furniture. I shrugged and said, "Well, I'll talk to him tomorrow. Right now I need to sleep, or try to."

"You guys are so similar," Token said, shaking his head.

"And yet, we really aren't," was my reply. I walked off of Token's porch, towards my car. I slipped in, blasted the heater, and headed home. Maybe I would really sleep, or I'd think about what Token said in depth. Maybe our conversation had something under it all that I wasn't picking up on.

When I got home, I went into my room and slept, not even bothering to think about Token's words.

---

I slammed my locker shut. Another one of Craig's dumbass sticky notes was stuck on my locker door. It made me feel like he was mocking me, as if he was just waiting for me to leave one on his locker that he rarely used.

"See you at 3." was written across it in his slanted handwriting.

"Like hell you will," I mumbled. I turned on my heel and headed towards the last class of my day: literature. Craig had ditched this class all week. I knew he wasn't ditching school because he was leaving sticky notes for me. He was purposely avoiding this class just to avoid me.

I thought about the first day of school, and how I wished he wasn't assigned to the desk in front of me. How I was actually a bit scared of him. Now, all I wanted was to punch him in his stupid, good looking face. I silently scolded myself for thinking about how attractive he was.

I vigorously wrote an essay on literature surrounding nature. I wanted to write about how stupid Craig fucking Tucker was, but instead I wrote about the natural imagery depicted in Jane Eyre.

I realized that I was acting childish and that Token was right. I needed to find Craig and confront him, especially before we took a two hour car ride to Token's mansion. A two hour car ride already sounded horrible, but having to ride next to Craig in an awkward silence would make it ten times worse.

I handed my essay in and slipped out of class, claiming that I wasn't feeling well and needed to see the nurse. My teacher hadn't even acknowledge me as I left.

I headed down the hallway towards the gym. Every day, prior to the fight with his dad, Craig and I would stand behind the gym and smoke some cigarettes before the ride home. I assumed that he hid in our normal spot to avoid getting caught by administration and so he wouldn't have to deal with the goth kids.

I walked outside. It was snowing lightly. A small blanket of snow covered the stairs that we normally sat on. A small blanket also covered someone sitting on the steps.

"Hey, fucker," I said as I pulled out a cigarette, "Why have you been avoiding me?"

Craig turned his head towards me and I felt the blood leave my face. My stomach dropped to the deepest layer of hell. My heart nearly went into cardiac arrest. The cigarette that I had had in my mouth fell to the ground. I even heard it hit the floor.

Craig's face was torn up. He had cuts all along the right side of his cheek; some where deep while other were shallow. Under his eyes were grotesquely dark purple circles. His eye lids were red and inflamed, as if he had been crying for hours on end. His nose was swollen, along with his lips and his right eyebrow. His face was gaunt, he looked like he hadn't eaten for days.

He rose. He was bitting the inside of his lip while he examined me. I couldn't say anything to him.

"Glad to see you're okay," he rasped. His neck was decorated with three lines of purple that signaled that he had been choked by someone's hand.

"You're glad to see that I'm okay?" I shouted, "What about you?!"

Craig shook his head, "I'm fine."

"Fuck you, you're not fucking fine! You look like you've just gotten mugged!"

"Calm down," he rolled his eyes.

"Don't roll your fucking eyes! Is this why you're avoiding me? Because I'd worry? Because I'd care that you're all bruised and battered? Because I'm a good friend?" Anger boiled inside of me. If this was really the reason why he had been avoiding me, he wasn't going to reconcile easily. I clenched my fists in my jacket. I ground my teeth against each other. Adrenaline was flowing through my body. My blood was pumping in my ears and I knew my face was flushed, not only from the anger, but also from the weather.

Craig didn't respond. His mouth was drawn in a perfect line, his nostrils were flared, and he was staring to the right of him. His hands were deep inside his jacket pockets. I couldn't tell what he was thinking.

"Sorry that I worry and that I care about you," I snapped, "But you can't avoid me and think I'd just be okay with it."

"I never thought that," he said, "Stop putting words into my mouth."

"So, now you suddenly want to talk? Like, you don't want to reply with one worded sticky notes anymore? Wow, fucking thank you, Craig."

Craig tilted his head back and let out a groan, "You're so lucky that I like you."

"If you want to hit me or something, fucking do it!" I shouted. I didn't know where this anger was coming from, but it was taking over me and I couldn't control what I was saying. My words fell out of my mouth before I could process what was coming. I knew my anxiety was kicking in because my breathing had become short and rapid. "You hit Clyde all the time! Why am I any different?!"

With that, Craig threw me against the gym doors. My back collided with the double doors and my breath caught in my throat. The back of my head throbbed from the contact. I closed my eyes out of pain.

Craig came close to me. I prepared for his fist to hit my jaw, or my stomach, or anything that belonged to me. He put his hands on both sides of my face. I prepared for him to smash my head against the doors. I regretted antagonizing him so heavily. I wasn't sure how far Craig would go since I had told him to hit me. My heart was racing and I felt like I was going to throw up. There was too much pressure. I wished I hadn't gone out of my way to find him. I wished I had just waited until we were both calm to talk this over. My heart was pounding so loudly and my chest felt like it was about to cave in. My mind was racing at a million miles an hour. I wanted to disappear. My body was shaking, not from the cold, but from the anticipation of him hurting me.

I felt him press his lips to mine.

My eye shot open. I pulled my lips away from his. I turned my head and vomited.

After I was done emptying my stomach, I took in deep breaths. I was shaking like a leaf. I squatted and tugged at my hair. My mind was still running faster than I could handle. I felt my throat close up. I coughed multiple times. Craig's hand was soon on my back, rubbing me to give some sort of comfort.

"W-what," I stammered, "the fuck?"

"I'm sorry," Craig whispered. The hurt in his voice was so apparent that I knew immediately that he thought I was rejecting him.

"NO!" I screamed, my head darted up as I looked at him with wide eyes, "No! Sorry! I didn't vomit from the kiss, I vomited because of my anxiety!"

Craig laughed. It was nice hearing him laugh. I hadn't heard his laugh for a week or so.

"No, you idiot. I'm sorry that I got you to the point where you threw up."

"Oh."

Craig continued to rub my back, "How are you feeling now?"

"Confused as fuck," I said bluntly, "I feel like I've discovered I'm gay all over again."

"Hmm," Craig hummed.

"Why did you kiss me?" I asked. I was thrown off my the fact that he had kissed me and hadn't hit me.

"I thought it would calm you down," he replied.

"Oh."

I felt my stomach drop once more. So, he hadn't kiss me because he liked me. He had kissed me to calm me down. I couldn't figure out how that had made sense in his mind, but Craig wasn't a person that showed affection. Maybe he only saw things that were normally perceived as romantic as simple things people did to each other. Maybe that was why he only had sex with Bebe to get rid of his sexual frustrations, like Kenny had said. Maybe that was why he never dated anyone. Maybe that was why he was closed off from the world. Maybe, just maybe, Craig Tucker was so apathetic that he had never learned how to love anyone besides Ruby.

"Yeah," he awkwardly drew out the word. I was still squatting; my legs were cramping up. I picked myself up and rubbed my face with my frozen hands.

"So, I'll see you at Token's later," I said.

"Yeah."

"Okay."

I walked down the stairs towards my car. I was still confused about Craig's actions.