It was already dark outside, cold as hell, and I didn't have any goddamned shoes. I tilted my head back, leaning against our house and wondering when it would just fall in. I was guessing any time in the next year; it already creaked just from my weight being put against it. I laughed, watched my breath cloud around my face like cigarette smoke, and wondered why the hell I'd never picked up smoking after that first time back in elementary school. Stan had, I was almost positive. Kyle bitched him out for it every week, at least. I wondered when they'd fuck and get it over with; it was starting to piss me off, all the dancing around each other they did. I turned my head, started watching the door, waiting for Karen. She took a little longer than usual; probably had to dodge the broken glass from the bottle Kevin had tossed at our dad. I drew myself to my feet, slow and careful; there were probably needles on the ground out here, or at least something that'd kill me if I stepped on it, and I sure as hell didn't feel like doing that that night. Karen needed me, or at least she needed me to take her to one of my friends who had a house where people didn't try to fucking kill each other every goddamn night.
"Where do you want to go?" I asked, since she didn't like all my friends, or all of their families. Like Kyle's. Kyle's mom was kind of a bitch to both of us. I saw her think about it; she probably wanted to say Craig's, since she and his sister were pretty good friends, but Craig's family wasn't much better off than ours, and even if they did always help us out when we needed it, we both usually felt like shit afterwards. I stared at the ground while we walked, glad when we finally hit asphalt and I could just walk again. I needed a new pair of fucking shoes; mine were pretty much no better than going barefoot, and they were worse if I stepped in water because they held it and made my feet freeze. Literally, once. That was a bad day all around, though.
"Stan's?" she questioned, since I had veto power, and I shook my head.
"Nah. He's been in one of his Goth moods for the last week. I don't want to deal with that tonight." She nodded, looking relieved I'd told her; she'd gotten left alone with him in one of those moods before. We went through a few more, and there was a problem with all of them, which was actually kind of weird; Token's family would've been in bed already, Tweek's was on vacation, Clyde had Bebe over, and Butters… well, I didn't like staying with him much, after I'd turned him down when he asked me to go out with him. I ran a hand through my hair; we basically had one option if we didn't want to stay at home. "We're going to have to go to Cartman's," I said, and she flinched.
"Seriously?"
"Yeah. Sorry; I'll talk to Token at school tomorrow to see if we can crash there for a couple of days. It'll just be for tonight, promise. Besides, his mom loves you; she'll make something special for you to eat, and I can just steal something from Cartman. God knows he doesn't need it all," I said, flashing a little smile and feeling glad when she laughed no matter how quiet it was. It wasn't too long of a walk there, at least, and him and his mom were both still up when I knocked on the door. His mom answered, obviously.
"Kenny, Karen?" she asked, and I gave her my best grin.
"Hey, Ms. Cartman." Karen kept a grip on my hand; she never had liked asking other people for a place to stay. I'd gotten used to it.
"Oh, dear. You need a place to stay again?" I nodded. "Come on in, sweetheart. I've got something on for Eric now anyway, there'll be enough for you two." She really was a sweet woman; I'd always liked her. Felt bad she had Cartman to deal with, anyway. He stared at me when I came in and snickered a little.
"Wow, Kenny, I didn't know you were so poor that not even your shoes wanted to be seen with you." I flipped him off, flopping beside him on the couch and stealing a handful of his Cheesy Poofs. Karen squeezed in beside me, all knobby knees and elbows and hair that wasn't quite long and wasn't quite short. Karen and I both fell into dinner when Ms. Cartman brought it to us; that was probably my favorite part of going to Cartman's when shit like this happened. She sure as hell never tried to starve anybody, after all, and she could cook better than anyone else in South Park. I told Cartman to leave when, about twenty minutes after we ate, Karen started looking droopy and tired, and his mom went to bed too.
I stayed on the floor beside where Karen slept on the couch until she completely fell asleep, but she'd probably still come knocking on Cartman's door some time later that night. I didn't mind, honestly. Cartman usually did, but he was generally an asshole anyway. He'd at least tossed some blankets and a pillow on the floor for me when I got in there, though, which was better than usual. He did stare at me for a while when I dropped onto them, though, tired and drained; I'd wanted to leave for a couple of days before we did. Kevin had tried to take whatever aggression bullshit he had out on me before he and dad started their usual shit. I'd just kicked him in the nuts and he told me I fought like a bitch while he rolled on the ground. I hadn't given a damn; kept me from getting the black eyes he did. Mom had been on a binge of something for a few days; I hadn't cared enough to figure out what it was, too busy trying to make sure everybody ate and drank at least something other than pop tarts with beer.
"What do you want, fatass?" I grumbled, and he frowned. He wasn't really that fat anymore, honestly, not since he'd gotten drafted onto the football team and the fat turned to muscle. I still called him that, though, but for me it'd become something like a nickname years before. Most other people didn't, except for Kyle when Cartman got him pissed off enough. I figured they should probably go ahead and fuck too, just so they'd quit bitching at each other.
"Shut up, you poor piece of shit," he said, and I laughed into my arm. That was his way of asking how I was doing; I'd known him long enough that I could pick up on stuff like that, on the moments when he was caring while he tried to seem like he didn't care.
"Yeah. Can't even afford a pair of fucking shoes, right?" He nodded. "At least I'm not a fat piece of shit, though." He heaved a sigh, shaking his head.
"Goddamn it, Kenny." I smiled against the pillow, rolling over and hissing softly; Keven had managed to get in a good punch to my stomach before I got him down. I was pretty sure he'd bruised something. Cartman actually noticed, which shocked the hell out of me, but what shocked me more was when he actually mentioned it. "Shut up, Kenny, what the hell's wrong with you?"
"Fuck off, Cartman. My dad wasn't the first one Kevin got to when he got pissed off. That's why me and Karen left." He laughed, trying to be bitter and mocking like usual and not quite managing it.
"Aw, Kenny's such a little bitch now that his pussy ass brother can beat him up!" I rolled my eyes.
"No, my pussy ass brother can get in a lucky shot before I kick him in the nuts. You wanna see how it feels, fatass? He's about your size, and he went down pretty quick."
"As if, Kenny, I could beat the shit out of you in a second."
"Yeah, yeah. Maybe in a fair fight, but I don't fight fair." I turned my head to one side so I could see him, and watched him quickly force his face back into neutrality, unwilling to let me see that he actually gave a damn. It was just how our friendship worked, honestly; neither of us wanted the other one to know we cared. It worked, anyway, however fucked up some people might've thought it was. I don't know if he was going to say something after that or not; probably not, honestly, seeing as how he wouldn't want to risk me drawing attention to what he'd looked like, but it didn't matter anyway because someone was banging on the door. Damn it; this happened every now and again, one of my parents coming to bring us home when they felt like pretending to be responsible or whatever, but they should've known it wouldn't work, it never did. Hell, I didn't even know how either of them had managed to walk this far, given how they looked when I left. I groaned. Cartman sighed.
"Kenny, you need to tell your poor ass white trash family to stay the hell away from my house." I raised my eyebrows at him, dragging myself to my feet. I wished they'd quit knocking; they'd probably already woken Karen up.
"Like I want them here anymore than you do, bastard." He shrugged, following me into the main room where somehow Karen still slept. I gestured for Cartman to carry her into his room before I opened the door, which he did, since every now and then he isn't a complete dick. I was surprised to find my brother on the other side instead of either of my parents. "Kevin, what the hell?" I hissed, and he shrugged, looking down and away. Blood was dripping down his cheek from a cut on his forehead, but otherwise he didn't look much worse than he normally did. Cartman wandered up behind me, arms crossed, frowning.
"Mom was worried about you," he said, and I could only laugh. Cartman frowned.
"When I left mom was so high she wouldn't know her own name. Come up with a better excuse next time." I tried to shut the door but he stuck his foot in, uncaring of how hard I tried to slam it because he actually had a pair of decent goddamn boots.
"Sorry. Shouldn't have hit you," he tried, and I snorted.
"Damn right. I'm still not coming back tonight, and neither is Karen."
"Where is she?"
"Sleeping. She's in Cartman's room so your loud ass doesn't wake her up."
"'S good. I don't want you to bring her back tonight anyway, don't want you to come back either. Wanted you to come out with me, got us a place to stay." I frowned, glanced down, saw Cartman's fist clenching.
"I'm guessing it's not a good place if you don't want Karen along."
"Good enough for us, for a week or two. Looking for a better spot, someplace she can go too. Come on, it ain't bad enough to kill us, better than where we are now, and we can clean it up a little." He held out a hand, and I half-thought about taking it, but Cartman grabbed me by the coat.
"What the hell, Kenny, why the fuck would you leave with him? He just tried to beat your ass." I shrugged.
"So? He didn't. I still can't go tonight, though, Kevin. I don't want to wake Karen up, and I'm sure as hell not going to walk out without telling her what's going on. I gotta go to class tomorrow long enough to talk to Token, but we can skip most of the day and check it out." He didn't look precisely happy, but he directed the angry look more towards Cartman than to me, and nodded.
"I'll wait by the gate." I nodded, and he turned, walking off. I shut the door. Cartman shoved me into it.
"You want your bitch ass beat that badly?" he asked, and I snorted.
"Drop it, Cartman, he's not going to do anything to me. He was drunk as shit and pissed off; that's one of the first times he's ever tried to do anything to me, and he's not too bright if you hadn't noticed. I've beaten him every time he's tried anything." I saw a flash of his teeth for a moment, felt his hands clench around my shoulders, and he didn't step back.
"Why the fuck does he need you to stay with him anyway? You've been finding your own places." I let out a little chuckle, shook my head.
"He's talking about somewhere permanent, Cartman. Somewhere me and him and Karen can actually live, instead of with our parents. He's been looking for a long time, mostly just finding places where his friends were crashing or places that were in worse shape than our parent's house. I told him not to bother me until he found something better."
"And he's a lying piece of shit. You've told me that before." I shrugged again.
"So am I. If he's lying, it won't matter one way or another. We just want something that's ours, Eric; he's already working and I've got a few applications out, so we can support ourselves. We can't keep just freeloading off of people like we have been." Cartman gritted his teeth.
"You can stay here." That startled me, I can admit it; Cartman wasn't exactly the kind of person to offer something like that out of the goodness of his heart.
"Yeah, I'm sure that'd be cheap, right?" I said, rolling his eyes, and he actually looked surprised that I'd say something like that.
"Yeah. We haven't ever turned you away." I knew that, but staying forever wasn't the same thing as a night or two when we got desperate enough, which I told him. When he told me it was, I told him that he didn't get it, that he didn't understand the fact that as much as I played at not caring, having to beg for a place to stay, freeload off my friends, wasn't something I was proud of. He told me he'd tell me what to feel ashamed about, that there was plenty, like how I was such a dick that my shoes couldn't even stand me. Said he wouldn't offer if he didn't mean it. I knew that too; Cartman was a liar too, always had been, but I could usually tell when he was and when he wasn't, at least when it came to the important things.
"I'm not asking you for that. For once, we want to do something for ourselves. Besides, you should probably ask your mom before you get permanent houseguests." He didn't look away from me.
"You're my best friend, Kenny," he said, "You asshole. Fucking hate you, stubborn poor ass fucker." I flashed a grin, patting his arm, and he finally stepped back.
"Yeah, yeah, I hate you too, fatass. Your mom has her own shit to deal with, though. I'm not taking advantage. You could get me some fucking shoes, though." He gave me a look like I was out of my fucking mind, shook his head.
"As if. No way in hell am I blowing my money on shoes for your poor ass." I stuck out my tongue, going to his linens closet and getting myself a couple of blankets to make myself a pallet on the living room floor so I didn't have to disturb Karen. I tossed him one too and he dropped onto his couch. When I made fun of the kindness the next morning, he said it was because he wanted to watch TV all night. I didn't mention the TV in his bedroom, just because he was my best friend too, no matter how much I hated to admit it. Still, I knew he wasn't going to drop it; it wasn't in his nature to drop anything, no matter how stupid it was. The next morning, I knew, was going to be hell.
