A/N: I know I have another full length story to work on, but I think this one's more fun. The other one is dark and mysterious and totally out of my comfort zone, but this one I promise will be light hearted and fun. The reason for writing this is because I just wanted to write something totally new, and recently I've come to contact with ClydexCartman. I love that pairing (but I love Kyman a bit more :3 ^_^) so I thought I'd experiment with it a little. It's also written in the present tense (which I hardly ever do and I have little experience on, due to my totally gay school not teaching it) and first person. I hope you enjoy it, and I hope it's in character, too!
Chapter One - Trouble
Girls.
I stopped bothering with them a while ago.
I was getting kind of bored with the way they always came up to me, started flirting with me and telling me to call them. I was getting sick and tired of being constantly handed pieces of paper and screwed up notes with their cell phone numbers scrawled on them.
I have no idea how girls work. Nor do I want to know, because it'll confuse me. I get confused easily. And I have the attention span of a gnat.
I'm Clyde Donovan. I'm on a mission, and it's not going to be pretty.
X (o) X –
About six months ago I think I was pretty tired of being known as popular and a guy all the girls wanted. Having that status was fun at first, but after a while it became tedious and I wasn't all too bothered in keeping it.
I don't know what the girls even saw in me. I wasn't the brightest crayon in the box. I was a dumbass. I still think that five times two is twelve, and I have totally managed to convince myself I'm right.
I don't know how, but I did it.
Anyway, I think I better explain a little bit more.
My mission hasn't been made clear yet...but I intend to do that. Sometime. I don't know when. I procrastinate a lot. I think I know what that word means.
See what I mean?
X (o) X –
I was skipping through a forest, all happy with a huge smile on my face, laughing to myself and waving to every bunny I saw. I saw unicorns, all pink and purple. The sky was full of rainbows, and panda bears came out behind bushes and started to dance and laugh with me. Then we rode on ponies whilst eating candy flo-
"Clyde, can you hear me?"
As quick as a wippet (is that a dog, or something?) I shot up, wiping drool from the corner of my mouth. I'd fallen asleep in class again. It's a bad habit of mine, I guess. Now there was drool on my sleeve. Attractive.
"Umm..." I mutter absent-mindedly. I wasn't really listening, and the laughter of all the bunny rabbits in my dream kinda drowned Mrs. Roberts out.
I don't like her. She's a bitch.
"I presume you were sleeping in my class again, hmm?" she glances at me, mentally shooting lasers from her eyes. Woah, I just imagined how cool that would be. I mean, like, she could probably kill someone with her epic laser beams. Then she'd get arrested, or something.
"Um," I repeat. I nod a little, and she continued to stare at me.
"Clyde Donovan if I catch you sleeping one more time I will have to send you out," she warns me. Ooh, send me out, huh? Totally hardcore. "Now, can you answer this question?"
She points to the board, and I squint. My mind was lost in a frenzy as I read each and everything written on the board in thick black whiteboard pen. I saw some pluses there, maybe a division sign and a subtraction thingy, but I didn't understand it at all.
"Not really," I reply, a littler quieter than I had hoped for. "It's hard."
She tutts and rolls her eyes, saying nothing. I sighed. I hate being dumb. I need someone to make me smarter, like, to tutor me, or something.
I could get Craig to do that. But we'd probably end up throwing snowballs at each other, for absolutely no reason at all. And then we'd get no studying done, which wouldn't be very helpful for my extremely bad grades.
Or Kenny. He's smart. I think.
She continued with her lesson, and I continued to not listen. I stare down at my desk, drawing imaginary circles using my fingertips, glancing at the clock every few seconds. Time moved by so slowly sometimes. I sighed and went back to resting my head in my hands. I was desperate to fall back asleep, but I resisted the urges.
I try to stay focused, but again, my attention span is almost non existant.
The bell kinda shocks me. I jump a little, because I was so not expecting it. But there was one good thing – maths was my last lesson on a Thursday, and I got to go home after it. Or probably to the park with Craig and those other guys I hang with.
Or I could go home and sleep, and not do my homework, like most days.
"Alright class," Mrs. Roberts says, putting her pen down and rubbing everything off the board. "I will see you all first period tomorrow. I'll give you your test results back then. Class dismissed."
As everyone stood up, I put away my books and the very few pencils and pens I had on me, and just as I had one foot through the door, I heard Mrs. Roberts say my name.
I turn on my heel and faced her. The door slams shut behind me, indicating everyone had now left. Lucky bastards.
And bitches, 'cause there's girls in my class, and they might have found that sexist.
Mrs. Roberts frowns at me. "Your test results were less than average. Did you study for it at all, Clyde?" My mouth hung open as I thought; as I remembered.
After doing as much thinking as Clyde Donovan possibly can, I shake my head. I felt a little guilty for not revising – this test was kinda important and contributed to my final grade – but it's not my fault I suck at practically every lesson I have.
Mrs. Roberts continued to frown at me, her blueish/grey eyes looking down at the desk she was leaning on.
"Do you think that, if you had studied, you would have done better?" she questions me. I look at her quizzically (I love myself for knowing that word) and didn't know what to say.
"I...I don't know."
There was that frown again; those mental bullets shooting from her eyes. Oh wow. First laser beams now bullets? I think she's magical, or my imagination is uber awesome.
"That's the problem with you, Clyde," she sighs, twisting her mouth. "You just don't know. You don't try hard enough, especially not in this class, anyway. Are you failing your other classes, too?"
I start to think again. I think my brain was going to explode by how much thinking I've had to in the past few moments. "Yeah. Kinda. But not in P.E. I'm good at that."
She laughs a little, only quietly and for a short amount of time. "Figures."
I don't know what she meant by that, so I just stare at her a little, and didn't bother to reply. I waited for her to talk to me again.
"I would ask for you to retake the test," she continues. "But that'd be a little harsh on such short notice. So, how would you like our best student in this class to tutor you?"
I cock (hee hee) my head to one side and look at her, that perplexed look again. I thought for a moment (only not as hard this time. I don't like brains, and I don't think mine would look good all over Mrs. Roberts' lovely carpet, all covered in brain juice). A tutor? That sounds pretty bitchin'.
I don't know who the best student is, because the smartest kid I knew isn't in my maths class. In fact, I'm in, like, one of his classes, but I didn't know that until a few days before. How I didn't notice it, I don't know, but it's probably because I'm a little slow on things.
"Who's gonna tutor me?" I find myself asking her.
She smiles a little at me. "Judging by our latest test results, I'm guessing my best student in this class is indeed Eric."
I thought I was going to vomit my heart through my mouth. And I didn't care that it'd get all over Mrs. Roberts' lovely carpet, all covered in heart juice. Ugh.
I am kinda shocked to hear that. I think Eric Cartman's dumber than me, if that's possible. How was he the best student in this class?
"Eric?" I choked. "Eric Cartman?"
I tried to think of another Eric. There is this one kid called Eric in my English class, but he's in a wheelchair. And he's totally freaky, let me tell you.
Then again, so's Cartman.
"Yes," she nods her head. "I do mean Eric Cartman. He got a perfect ninety on this test. God knows how. Maybe he studied extra hard, unlike you, hmm?"
She shot a sweet looking smile at me, and I close my eyes.
Eric Cartman. Tutoring...me? This couldn't have been possible.
I should have probably told, like, a police officer to deem Eric Cartman tutoring me illegal. That'd be pretty cool, too.
"Do you honestly believe Cartman would tutor me?" I ask her.
She giggles slightly, her eyes not making contact with mine. "Probably not, you're right about that. But I will make him or there will be punishments."
Even Eric Cartman could be scared of this bitch. She's scary as hell. Is Hell scary? Probably. Fire burns people, so I don't like fire. This one time, I burned my hand on the oven. I still have a scar from it, and it really, really hurt.
"Oh," I utter under my breath.
She smiles at me once again, before adding: "Go home, do some studying, and maybe get plenty of rest tonight so I don't have to see you sleeping in my lesson. Your tutoring can begin tomorrow. Goodbye, Clyde."
I walk away without a goodbye, but I did wave at her as I left, so that surely must count, right? I think I'm right. But I'm not sure. I don't know.
X (o) X –
"She's getting Cartman to tutor you?"
I sigh. It was all too weird, for sure. Anyone could agree with me on that one.
Nodding my head, I look at Craig, who was smoking a cigarette.
"But...why?" he ponders, taking one last puff before throwing the butt on the floor, stomping on it.
I shrug. I wasn't in the mood to talk. I wanted to go home and sleep, go back to dance with all those pink pandas and fairies on Pumpkin Forest.
"All I know is that he got almost full marks on that gay test we did," I mutter under my breath.
"Yeah," he agrees. I was surprised he heard me because I had said it kinda quietly. "Probably cheated, though. He's a bigger dumbass than you."
He smirks, and I glare at him. I did agree with him on that one, but I don't like to be called a dumbass by someone I call my friend.
Hold on. Probably cheated? Oh my God. How did I seriously not think of that?
That sounded perfectly like Eric Cartman. He had obviously cheated on this test, for sure.
"Craig!" I shout his name, and he looks a little scared by my sudden enthusiasm. "You're so right! He cheated! Why are you so smart?"
He raises an eyebrow, before laughing: "Because my name isn't Clyde Donovan."
I pout. I immitate him in a mock voice, a voice that isn't even him. It's more like a 'meh meh meh meh meh meh'.
He stares at me, boredom shining through his grey eyes, which are covered by a curtain of ebony coloured hair. "Fuck off, Clyde."
It's my turn to smirk now as I playfully punch him on the arm.
"You know I'm only joking," I just totally stated the obvious there. He knows I'm only joking. I know I'm only joking. Even that kid who's playing on the roundabout near us knows I'm only joking.
He sighs, and nonchalantly says: "I know that, Clyde. I'm not a dumbass."
See?
"Unlike you."
I pout again, like that one time when Stan interupted my paper on how awesome and cool this chick Bebe is. I applaud myself for remembering that.
"Later, dude," I suddenly announce. "I'm not going to sit her and be ridiculed."
He immitates my pout. "Oh, sowwy, Cwyde. I'm onwy joking," he teases.
And even though he's 'onwy joking', I'm getting kinda pissed off.
My lack of sleep is probably to blame.
And that's why I left, to go home, get some sleep, and hopefully wake up refreshed.
A/N: I really enjoyed writing this, and I'm excited to see in which ways this could go down! I thought I'd be bad at writing Clyde, but reading it back, I'm pretty impressed. Clyde and I have that same sorta attention span, so I can kinda write from that sort of view. Also, I hope the present tense was OK, and I hope it was kinda humourous (sp?), even though that's not a goal of mine right now. So, reviews would be appreciated, but please, no flaming. I'm like Clyde – fire scares me :3 I don't mind a little constructive critiscm, but a total hate speech isn't going to make me happy. It'll make me a saaaaad panda.
OK, I promise to update a little sooner with this one. I can't wait to write the next chapter, I swear :)
