Chapter One

Graduation. Fuck.

A whole world of uncertainty was coming, and I wasn't ready for it. Kyle was off to NYU, Stan was going to Colorado State, Cartman of all people somehow managed to get into South Park Community College...and I was struggling to find work.

It's not a surprise I couldn't afford to go to college. I had the grades to go. Well, they were okay. But after I managed to muster up the funds to even APPLY to the University of Colorado in Denver, I found out I couldn't afford it after getting accepted. They only offered to cover some of my tuition, even though I was extremely high need. The rest were loans I could never pay back.

But jobs were scarce in South Park. My brother, Kevin, suggested I try selling pot with Pete, who transitioned out of his goth phase and into his druggie phase. But I told Kevin that I didn't want to end up like Dad, being deadbeat and hating his own life.

I looked down at the satin black gown as they called our names to the stage.

Stanley Marsh

I watched one of my best friends from childhood walk across the stage and receive his diploma. That meant I was next.

Kenneth McCormick

I dragged my feet. Time seemed to move in slow motion. I looked out to the crowd. My mother was watching intently, while my father sipped a beer in his seat, seeming ever unpresent as usual. My brother clapped like my mother. But my sister, Karen...she was my biggest cheerleader. She stood on her seat and hollered and cheered. She held a sign that said, "GO KENNY!"

Karen was my reason to keep going, in so many ways. She always looked up to me, and I didn't want to let her down. If I were to give up, then she'd have no one to look to. Kevin certainly wasn't any sort of role model, and my parents weren't exactly the peak of inspiration. I sacrificed everything for Karen, and she always had my back. In a way, I'm glad I was staying in South Park, if not only for her.

I finally reached the principal, who held my diploma in one hand and had the other outstretched, ready to shake it. I performed this monotonous ritual - take the diploma, shake the hand, let the photographer take a picture I'll probably never see, and walk off the stage. My ten seconds of prominence came and went.

From my seat I watched the rest of my friends walk across the stage, and recounted what the future held for them.

Fosse McDonald. Penn State.

Terrence Mephesto. MIT.

Annie Nelson. University of Miami.

The names rattled on, and it just reminded me that they all had more of a future than I did. Even the ones going to community college, like Cartman.

Leopold Stotch.

I paused. I didn't know what Butters was doing after college. Had he told me and I just didn't remember, or had he just failed to mention it?

Wendy Testaburger. Stanford University. Of course she got into the top school in the country. Stan wasn't too pleased she'd be going to California, but they would try to make it work. They always did.

But for some reason, the fact that I didn't know what Butters was doing puzzled me. I looked back at him in his seat, where he sat smiling and clapping with each name called. He was everyone's Karen. He was everyone's cheerleader. He saw me looking and he waved at me, flashing his typical cheery smile.

I waved back and turned back around. Stan leaned over to me. "Dude, we're all going to Olive Garden after the ceremony. Kyle's dad is treating. Are you in?"

I shrugged. "That depends, who's going?"

"Me, Kyle, Cartman, and Butters. And our parents, of course. You gonna ask your parents to come?"

I shook my head. "My dad would probably just bitch they didn't have beer and get drunk off of a chardonnay instead," I grunted.

"Suit yourself," Stan sighed. "But are you coming?"

I realized this would give me an excuse to talk to Butters. I don't know why I was obsessing over this, but it was gonna bug the hell out of me until I found out. "Yeah, sure, why not."

Fuck, I forgot how much I loved Olive Garden's breadsticks. Literally it was like garlic had sex with bread and then took a really really satisfying shit and that shit's baby was an Olive Garden breadstick. Wait, that's a really weird analogy.

I felt like tonight was the one night I really was able to get a feel of what it was like to actually have money. Kyle's father insisted I could order whatever I wanted, but I just felt bad. I really felt like he shouldn't spend his money on me. I was perfectly happy gorging myself on bread. Eventually, Kyle ordered a chicken parmesan for me, and I just couldn't say no. Why were the Broflovski's always so generous?

Cartman muttered something to me about it being so unusual that Kyle's dad was so willing to spend money, considering he was a Jew. Kyle heard him, though, and shot him a dirty look.

"Don't start, Cartman," he hissed. "We're having a good time."

"I am, too, Kyle," Cartman insisted. "I'm just surprised that my good time is coming from your dad's lack of stinginess."

"Well, try not to eat the whole menu, fatass," Kyle snapped.

I zoned out of that exchange while they continued to go at each other. I was sitting next to Butters, who had been sneaking pictures of us on his phone.

"You're not gonna post those, are you?" I asked him skeptically. I didn't have a Facebook, and I didn't really want my picture up on the internet without my permission.

Butters giggled. "I won't post 'em if you don't want me to," he assured me. "Aren't you gonna get a Facebook after you leave town though, Kenny?"

I sighed and shook my head. "I'm not leaving, Butters," I told him. "I can't afford college."

Butters pursed his lips. "I know what you mean. Neither can I."

That shocked me. Butters always seemed pretty well off, so it surprised me that he couldn't go. His father worked a steady office job, and his mother was an engineer. Why wouldn't he be able to go?

Sensing that I was confused, Butters continued. "My dad says that if I want to go to college, I need to pay for it myself, like he did," he explained. "I tried to explain to him that college is a lot more expensive now than when he was a teenager, but then he just got real sore at me. Told me that there are ways around it. I could work for a year and then go, or I could even join the army. The GI bill would cover my tuition. But I don't really wanna have to risk my life just to get an education."

I hadn't thought about the military option. It seemed so obvious now. Butters did say it was dangerous...but then again, I can't die. Well, I haven't died since 5th grade. Who knows if that's still true anymore?

Butters nudged me, noticing I had gone quiet. "Hey, Kenny, you alright?" he asked. "You seem to have a lot on your mind. Whatchya thinkin' about?"

I looked at him, and then at all of my friends gathered around the table. "A lot."