Fourth Wheel
Chapter One
It was Monday.
Of course, Mondays lost all meaning to Kenny as soon as he graduated. The week after commencement, he had picked up a second job at a fast food restaurant that extended to Saturdays, and sometimes Sundays. So of course, the weekends had also lost their meaning. And at first, Kenny didn't mind. What frustrations he did have were vented through rigorous three-way one-on-one games of basketball with Kyle and Stan, or through fights with the fatass that were both verbal and physical.
No, it wasn't until Kenny realized that slowly, one by one, the denizens of South Park that he had grown up and graduated with were slowly disappearing that he began to mind.
The first to go was Clyde. Kenny didn't think that Clyde Donovan was smart enough to even step foot on the campus of any college, but he was gone all the same. It may have been his whole family who moved after waiting for so long for their son to graduate so they could leave without any problems. Whatever the reason, all Kenny knew was that he was in Denver now, and that Clyde was not the only one who would suffer this fate. Is "suffer" the right word?
What seemed to be the whole one week of actual summer weather passed, and snow began to descend on South Park, Colorado once again. And then Bebe Stevens left. Her family had probably remained. She would be all the way on the other side of the United States to study to become a lawyer or marine biologist or whatever. Again, Kenny didn't care. What he did care about was what would happen when "summer" began to draw to an end.
And end it did, much too quickly for Kenny's tastes. Dying really sped up time for him, and it lessened the amount of time he could spend with his friends or earn his wages. That Monday morning, as he was lying in his bed, Kyle would begin his classes in California, and Stan would start his next week in Nebraska.
Kenny lurched upwards when he felt as if his heart were falling to the pit of his stomach. Either he was beginning to feel lonely already, or his nicotine cravings were starting to gnaw at his brain. He glanced at his alarm clock. Nine thirty-six. His father would not be up yet, and his mother would already be at work. Kevin had been long gone for a year now.
He threw off his blankets, then lightly stepped onto the ground. As quietly as he could, he opened his closet to slip into a blue hoodie and jeans after looking through barely enough clothing to last him a week, then fished out a pack of cigarettes and his wallet from the night stand by his bed. After a quick scan around the room to make sure he had picked up everything he needed, he carefully opened his bedroom door and moved quietly through the house. Before passing his father's bedroom, he pressed his ear against the door to confirm that he was still asleep. He could hear Stuart McCormick inside with his deep-throated snoring.
Kenny scampered quickly and silently to the door, taking the keys off of the set of hooks nearby, then exited the house, making sure to close the door with as little noise as possible.
In the driveway sat his pride and glory: a green pick-up truck that looked as if it were about to turn orange and brown from being overcome by rust. Nevertheless, it ran well enough, and despite its shabby appearance, Kenny was proud to have it after spending over a year saving up from the countless jobs he had held. Sure, the air conditioning didn't work, although there was no real need for it, and the heater had ceased to function last year, but it still got him around town. He needed it to get from one job to another on time.
He swung open the door and started the car, then turned his attention to the house door, ready to slam the car door shut and pull out of the driveway if anything so much as stirred inside the house. The truck was the family's only source of transportation at the moment, and he didn't want to lose it today. Stuart never hesitated to hijack Kenny's truck, issuing threats of kicking him out of the house (even though he had started paying rent once he turned eighteen) or turning him in for not having car insurance if he didn't let him have it.
However, after starting the truck, not a sound was heard except for the dull hum of the engine. Sighing, Kenny shut the door and rolled down the window, then proceeded to light up his first cigarette of the day. Kenny knew that smoking was bad for him financially, but health-wise, he didn't care. Lung cancer would just be another speck on the list of causes of his many deaths. No, he only cared about the money it took away from his pocketbook, and he knew he was a fool for starting. His apathy was the only thing getting in the way of him quitting.
After a couple of minutes of waiting, Kenny realized that the feelings in his stomach and mind were not going to go away. God, he felt like such a pussy.
Chewing on the filter of the cigarette, he rolled up his window and shifted into reverse, then pulled out of the driveway. He shifted into drive, then paused, right foot still on the brake pedal. Where to go, where to go?
Kenny didn't have work until that afternoon. He had been fired from his last day job at McDonald's because they would not tolerate his absence from his deaths. Almost immediately he had applied for another job, but the interview for that wasn't until that Wednesday.
He could call Stan. Yeah, that's what he would do. Just a quick check-up to see how things were going. Maybe to hear the sound of a friend's voice again, but Kenny would never admit that for fear of sounding like such a fag.
But still, where to go? There were payphones in or around every business in South Park, and he could stand to eat a quick breakfast.
With no destination in mind, Kenny took off, going over the railroad tracks and then speeding up. After trekking through the neighborhood, he arrived at and sped past the first restaurant in sight: McDonald's. Butters worked that shift, and he didn't feel like putting up with the stuttering boy after having dealt with him for the duration of the six months he worked there, nor did he feel like fast food today.
Today, he felt like going wild with his money. A two dollar meal instead of one. Maybe even three. Hell, why not splurge a little and get a soda to go with it? His stomach rumbled in agreement with the thought. An exquisite, fine-dining meal it would be, then.
Kenny flicked the remains of his cigarette out of the truck window. Again, where? What was in South Park that was in between a fast-food joint and a steakhouse?
The first place he spotted was Harbuck's. From what Kenny had heard, they had donuts. Expensive, two-dollar donuts and comfortable, cushioned seats. Yes, that would do.
He pulled into the parking lot by the Harbuck's building. It was empty, save for a couple of cars parked here and there. There were no vehicles in the employee parking area. He pulled into the closest parking spot designated for handicapped users only (there was only need for one, anyway; didn't Jimmy's family leave two years ago?), and killed the engine. The inside of Harbuck's seemed dead. The lights that were on were the only things that said otherwise.
An unseen bell tingled as Kenny stepped inside. Immediately, his nostrils were filled with one scent and one scent only: coffee. No, no, there was more than one. Different flavors of coffee. Kenny didn't know any of their names, but they were there. And there was also the smell of- the smell of cake? Other baked goods?
But that one smell that the combination of baked goods and coffee formed was familiar, and it belonged to someone he would occasionally pass in the halls of high school or sit by in a small classroom. It belonged to Tweek Tweak, and there he was, standing in front of the counter, mopping up what looked like spilt coffee.
Of course his family wouldn't have left South Park like all the rest. They actually had their own business here, and thus a valid reason to stay. And what would Tweek do? Of course it would be too much pressure for him to have a go at life alone.
Kenny greeted him with a, "Hey, Tweek." This was, of course, followed by the predictable shriek and foot-high jump in the air. Kenny grinned. It had been too long since he last picked on- or, what everyone else called it, bullied- poor Tweek. It had to have been- what, since the end of middle school, the beginning of their high school career? All he could remember was Craig telling him to back off of messing with Tweek, and Kenny, not caring to start a feud with Craig, thought it best to grant him that one favor.
Nonetheless, even after four bully-free years, Tweek was still standing there, eyeing him warily, ready to defend himself to the death with his mop if Kenny struck. After all these years, and who knows how many sessions of therapy, that poor kid still shook like a leaf. At least in his presence, as far as he could tell.
Tweek went back behind the counter, some of the coffee still present on the floor. He took a deep breath, and in a perfectly calmed voice, stated mechanically, "Welcome to Harbuck's, how may I help you? Kenny?"
Kenny could hear the reluctance in his voice, and the little squeak when his name was spoken. Shit, so the kid was still afraid of him. He rolled his eyes and approached the counter, then glanced through the baked goods sitting behind a glass display case.
"Two glazed chocolate donuts." His gourmet meal, and for just under two dollars.
"Coffee?" Kenny looked up at him, confused. Tweek clarified: "Ngh! Would you like any coffee with that?" His voice started to gain that familiar strain that was present whenever he tried to string more than just a few words together without crying out.
"And end up like you, man? Fuck no," Kenny declined in the most polite manner he could.
"Jesus Christ, what are you talking about?" The strain was becoming ever more present in Tweek's voice. Kenny supposed he normally didn't have such lengthy conversations. "It's just my- ugh, my ADD acting up. It's not contagious," Tweek added as he pulled out the two donuts from the glass case and stuffed them in a little bag. "Is that all?"
Kenny nodded, pulling out his wallet and taking out two one-dollar bills. He handed it to Tweek and received his change, after a few seconds of Tweek methodically, slowly counting out the right coins from the cash register.
"Where is your payphone?"
Tweek pointed to the wall adjacent to the counter and opposite from the entrance to Harbuck's. Kenny thanked him and grabbed the small bag with his five-star restaurant meal. He set it on a table by the phone, then pulled out his wallet and drew out his phone card.
The fifty dollar phone card was one of the few things Kenny kept in his wallet, and thus on his person, at all times, along with any cash he had outside of the bank and his debit card. Kyle had given the phone card to him before leaving town two weeks back, making him promise to call him and Stan at least once a week, since they would not be able to call him. Kenny's father permanently disconnected the phone five years ago, deciding there was no real need for it. Emails and letters seemed too impersonal to the three friends.
Kenny punched in the numbers engraved on the phone card, followed by Stan's cellphone number that he knew by heart. Another piece of Kenny trivia he would never tell anyone else.
As the phone rang, he grabbed a chair from one of the tables and settled down in it, prepared for the long conversation he so desperately needed to cure him of what cigarettes could not. Unfortunately, that conversation was not to come. The voice mail picked up, first with the mechanical female voice informing Kenny that Stan was not available, then Stan's own voice stating his first and last name, and then the beep that told Kenny he could leave a message.
"Hey dude, it's Kenny. You better be getting laid, that's the only excuse I'll take for not taking my fucking phone call. Do you know how much this is costing Kyle, you ingrate? Anyway, I'll try calling you back later during my dinner break or something. Talk to you later, man," he finished half-heartedly, then hung up the phone.
Kenny looked around until he spotted a clock on a wall. He hadn't even been able to kill thirty minutes, and there was no way in hell he was going back home, even though that was where he had all of his Playboys stashed. Right in between his mattresses. There was still plenty of time before he had to go to work. God fucking dammit.
And then there was Tweek, still behind that counter. Now he was looking in Kenny's direction, shaking, worry sketched all over his face. Nervousness. As soon as they made eye contact, Tweek jerked his head away and started to count a cupful of straws.
Kenny wondered how much company someone who was constantly afraid of him would be. Probably not much. At least not in Butters' or Clyde's case. He started to consider picking up one of the whores that liked to hang around Raisins. Hell, he could even swing by Cartman's house and torment him for a while. Cartman was the only one of the gang who was considerate enough- although whether this was a blessing, Kenny couldn't tell for sure- to stick around. And why should he leave? His mother probably let him stay inside all day and stuff his fat face with Cheesy Poofs.
He turned his attention back to Tweek, who had spilt the cup of straws and was now frantically trying to retrieve them all. Silently, Kenny stood up and scooted the chair back under its designated table, stowed his wallet back inside his hoodie, and walked over to Tweek to help pick up the straws. Tweek said nothing but a murmured, "Thanks."
Kenny picked up the last straw and set the cup back on the counter, away from Tweek's jittery hands. "Hey. You're not too busy right now, right?"
Of course he wasn't. It was nearing ten. Anyone in their small, redneck town who had developed a taste for coffee would be at work at the moment. Still, Tweek seemed reluctant to writeoff his status as momentarily unoccupied. Kenny wondered if Tweek remembered that shiner he had given his right eye back in the sixth grade. Kenny did. It was after a particularly bad morning consisting of getting ran over by a car and surviving, only to get eaten alive by rats anyway. The afternoon after, Tweek just had the nerve to ask him for a pencil. He also wondered if he remembered all of the times he chased Tweek into one of the girls' bathrooms. Or...
"Um, no. It's normally slow around this time. Ngh, doesn't pick up until lunch time, then Jesus Christ, so many people..." Tweek grabbed hold of his out-of-control blonde hair with his left hand and closed his eyes, either envisioning his future situation or trying to make the thought of it disappear.
"Sit and talk with me." Kenny made sure that his request came off as sounding like a demand. He was pleased to find that he still had a hold on the boy as old as the fifth grade when Tweek obediently took off his green apron and left the counter, sitting at the table occupied by Kenny's donuts. He nervously drummed his fingers on the table as Kenny followed and sat across from him. Kenny took out his first donut, then looked up at Tweek.
"Dude, stop that. Get yourself some coffee or something."
Tweek scurried from the table and went back behind the counter to fill up a large cardboard cup of coffee, and quickly returned to the table. All the while, he kept glancing at the door, waiting for a potential customer. As if waiting for someone to rescue him from me, Kenny thought, rolling his eyes.
Tweek silently sipped his coffee, occasionally emitting a small, distressed cry of "ergh" or "Jesus." Likewise, Kenny quietly ate his donuts, but didn't utter a sound. It wasn't until Kenny finished his second donut, both of which tasted just like any other little donut, and was thus deemed hardly worth the two dollars, that he decided to strike-up a conversation.
"How long have you been working here?"
Tweek's eyes gave an involuntary twitch as he thought. "Um, ever since it opened. But I've only been working at the cashier for... gah, two years? I don't know, don't ask me!" The last sentence was almost screeched out, and Tweek sipped at his coffee, rapidly tapping his fingers against the surface of the table once more.
Oh God. Kenny couldn't believe he was really going to go through with his conversation with Tweek. He was already starting to spazz out.
"Calm the fuck down, Tweek. I'm not going to bite you."
The tapping started to slow down, but Tweek was still frantically sipping at his coffee. There was silence once more. Kenny rubbed his forehead, trying to gather his thoughts.
"Alright. So, Tweek. Have any of your friends stayed around South Park after we graduated?" Kenny really felt as if he were talking to a little kid. Slowly. Carefully. Walking on eggshells, making sure he didn't say anything that would offend.
"Clyde's gone to Denver. Token's in, um, Massachusetts. For college. Craig's going to the community college in Westhaven, but he still lives here. I still see him sometimes."
Finally, something to talk about that wouldn't make him freak out.
"Yeah, it's basically the same situation with me. Stan's off in Nebraska and Kyle's in California, but Cartman's fat ass is still glued to his couch here."Kenny snatched Tweek's coffee and took a swig, then returned it to Tweek before there were any protests. Tweek stared at the cup with a look of utter horror on his face. "What?" Kenny questioned.
"Ergh, nothing," Tweek replied. He pulled the coffee closer to him, but didn't take any more drinks from it.
"Anyway," Kenny continued, "I really don't feel like putting up with Cartman's shit, and the only two sane friends I have are gone until next summer." Kenny wasn't exactly pouring his heart out, but the words that were coming out of his mouth still tasted like acid on his tongue. If acid were rainbow-colored. Still, he hadn't talked to any of his friends for two weeks, and desperation for companionship from someone who didn't rip on him for his economic situation was getting the best of him.
Tweek was silent, listening. He even stopped tapping his fingers against the table, but he still wouldn't drink from that damn cup. Kenny decided it would be safe to take the rest of the coffee, and he did without any protests from the other. He wasn't particularly fond of the taste, but it was still a free drink.
"But I've been keeping mostly busy with work. Except now. I have a job interview on Wednesday to cover my morning hours. The work sucks, too, but it's nice having two incomes. Except a lot of it goes to my parents. Can you believe they're charging me for rent to live with them? And they even have the balls to threaten to kick me out every once in a while, when I'm practically providing their livelihood. Can I smoke in here?"
Kenny whipped out the pack of cigarettes from his hoodie, about to pull a single stick out. However, Tweek snapped out of whatever daze he was in and shrieked, "What? No!" He jumped up and leaned over the table, ripping the pack out of a surprised Kenny's hands then throwing them across the coffee shop.
"What the fuck?" Kenny quickly jolted up from his chair and sprinted to retrieve his cigarettes as if someone were going to pick them up and fly away with them if he didn't get to them on time.
"No smoking!" Tweek screeched. The one customer that remained in the coffee shop now had his attention directed at the two as Tweek dashed behind the counter like it were some sort of force field that would protect him from Kenny's wrath.
Kenny picked up the pack of cigarettes and whipped back around to glare at Tweek, who just continued to cower behind the counter. "Ergh, uh, I think you should leave!" Again, that strained voice. Kenny just rolled his eyes.
"What the fuck ever, Tweek." Kenny pocketed his cigarettes and strode out the door, but not before saying, "See you tomorrow."
He wondered if Tweek was freaking out at the idea of his return, but looking back would ruin his dramatic exit.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Endnote: Well, there's the first chapter. This is actually my first piece of fanfiction in... years and years and years. I've decided to pick it up again to try to improve my dismal writing skills (or lack thereof). Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it, or that it was at least not too painful to get through. Hopefully I'll be able to pull out a chapter a week. And as for the fanfic itself, it will be alternating between Kenny and Tweek, and hopefully they'll remain at this length, or longer.
