I sighed as I walked to Craig's last class of the day, English. Luckily, I can get out of class before the bell and stood outside the room.

Craig always left last, so I knew he'd never figure out that I'd-

"What are you doing?"

I jumped at the sudden voice in the silent and empty halls.

I spin around and clutch my bag close to me, "GAH!"

I slam my back against the locker and dig my nails into my bag as I slam my eyes shut before I can even see who it is. What if it's a serial killer!? What if he stabs me?!?

I hear shuffling of some sort, then I hear a loud band right next to my head.

My eyes pop open to see Cartman leaning over me with his arm leaned against the locker.

Oh god. It's worst than a serial killer, I should've ran.

"I-I-I... I..."

Cartman chuckled, "You being a fag stalker again?"

"N-NO!" I shout almost dropping my bag on the floor, causing me to tighten my grip on it, "I-I'm not a s-stalker! Or a f-fag," I stare trying to sound confident, by utterly failing because of my stuttering.

"Oh yeah? What are you doing here?"

I sink down slightly. I can't answer that without coming off as gay or a stalker.

Cartman laughs at my silence and raises his opposite fist up.

"Oh Jesus!"