A/N: OK! This is the first part to our RP – as in, one writer writes for Eric and the other writes for Kyle, and we go back and forth. We've gone through an editing process to make this read more like a fanfic and a bit less like an RP, so we hope everything flows alright. Changes in POV are marked with ellipses (…), but eventually it should be easy to tell who's writing what. Umm, that's really all you need to know going in. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Neither of us own anything South Park related besides merchandise.

…

Part One – Monday, May 10th

Kyle was picking at his food, totally removed from the conversation going on at the lunch table. It was May and everyone was already getting antsy, counting down the days until summer. For most of the kids in his class, it meant months of free time, summer jobs, and lazy afternoons spent enjoying the rare warm weather. For him, it meant filling out college applications, getting in some last minute volunteer work, and patiently waiting for his score on the SATs, which he was taking in June.

It wasn't completely by choice. His mother had a lot to do with it… but he would be lying if he said he wasn't already desperately excited to get out of South Park. And really, it didn't hurt to be thinking about colleges already. In some ways, the impending freedom was what kept him going.

Only one more year, he thought as he looked around at the people gathered around him. Some of them he loved, like his best friend Stan. Others were childhood friends who he only talked to during school. And then there was the brunet sitting at the far end of the table, who was just… well, one of the reasons Kyle wanted to get out. His eyes narrowed at the boy and he suddenly felt the need to get a head start on his applications.

"I think I know where I want to go for college," he blurted out to no one in particular.

…

Kenny, who had been secretly stealing French fries off of Eric's enormous plate of food, quickly devoured one before peering back to Kyle. Swallowing the spicy fry, he perked up excitedly and said, "That's awesome, Kyle! Which one do you think it's going to be?"

Eric coughed before jokingly adding under his breath, "…Jewliard." Kenny narrowed his eyes in aggravation as he purposely grabbed a handful of Eric's fries and shoved them in his mouth.

…

"Um…" Kyle shifted in his seat, uncomfortably aware that everyone was looking at him now. "Well. I mean… somewhere far away from here. Like on the east coast, probably."

"Oh, definitely!" Wendy said from her spot next to Stan. "Personally, I'm applying to all Ivy Leagues, so obviously the east is where to go. I think my first choice is Yale, but I wouldn't mind Brown. Which one's your first, Kyle?"

He sighed. Of course Wendy was way ahead of him and already had her list mapped out. He saw that Stan was looking at her like she sprouted another head. Apparently, her college plans were news to him.

"Well, I don't know about the Ivy League," he said, blushing a little, though he wasn't sure why. Kyle didn't like to compete with Wendy, really, but he felt stupid now that he knew she expected him to be applying to the same schools she was. "I was thinking… I kind of like NYU."

Wendy raised an eyebrow at him in surprise, so he quickly added, "But I like Columbia too, so-"

"Oh yeah, that's a great school!" she interrupted excitedly, and launched into a monologue about academics and student body. He zoned out rather quickly, now kind of regretting saying anything.

…

Kenny had been listening to Wendy predictably brag about the schools she wanted to apply to, but as soon as he got the chance he broke her line of speech to blurt out excitedly, "That's great, Kyle!"

"At least you'll be able to escape this hell hole," he continued, looking down apprehensively. "But if you get in," he laughed nervously and lifted his head, "I'll sure miss you."

"Eh, don't get your panties in a bunch Ken," Eric spoke out after he scooted his tray far away from the fry-stealing blond, a couple heads turning to where the voice sounded from. "A little Mountain Jew like Kyle couldn't manage to survive for long that far away from his nest."

He then took a sip of his Vanilla Coke as he stared down the scowling redhead across the table. "Even if you do get accepted," he added sardonically, lowering his eyelids, "you'll be back."

…

"Thanks for that lovely piece of encouragement, Cartman," Kyle said, voice dripping with sarcasm. This was exactly why he should have kept his mouth shut. "But I don't plan on coming back to this place. Ever."

He shot apologetic looks to both Stan and Kenny before continuing.

"Though some people are welcome to visit me, of course. When I get accepted."

He glared at Cartman, feeling as though it was worth getting into NYU and graduating in four years just to prove him wrong. Or Columbia, for the added bonus of staying on Wendy's level.

"Besides, I would have thought you'd love to see me in New York, fatass," he added, cocking an eyebrow. "That's where all the Jews are, right? It's practically destiny."

…

Eric let out a hearty laugh as he kept direct eye contact with his feisty opponent. "Real cute, Jewface, but that's hardly a reason for me to visit that overrun immigrant city. It's bleeding with die hard liberals just like you and practically everyone else here."

He peered around the table before sighing. "Besides! Like your bitch of a mother would let you live somewhere where she couldn't breathe down your neck every waking hour of the day." He slammed his coke down. "Wake up Kyle, it's just not going to happen."

"Eric!" Kenny shouted, furrowing his brow in anger. "Just because you have no plans with your dead end life doesn't mean you get to be harsh about Kyle's ambitions! And I think you're wrong anyway! Kyle's mom is probably the one who would encourage him the most to go live somewhere else!"

Eric slid his eyes over to glare at his blond friend, nearly crushing the Coke can in his hand as he smirked. "And you, Ken? Pray tell, how do you plan on making a living after you squeeze by high school with your 2.0 GPA?" He closed his eyes as he boasted, "I certainly have plans… plans that haven't materialized yet but… still there."

His eyes quickly darted back to Kyle, seemingly dripping with premise. "You can't blame me for showing some," he held back a chortle, "genuine concern over what you eventually do with your life, can you Kyle?"

…

Kyle couldn't help but laugh.

"Oh, Cartman, you misunderstood me," he said, trying to plaster a sympathetic look on his face. "I didn't mean you could visit me. So you don't have to worry about immigrants and liberals."

He took a sip from his bottle of water and shared an amused grin with Stan before looking back toward Cartman.

"But you're right. My mom probably doesn't want me to go so far away… But I think she wants me to go to a great school just a little more than she wants me to stay in this town," he added. "So somehow I think she'd give me her ok."

He ran a hand through his hair, thinking about how badly he hoped he was right about his mom. She better not put up a fuss about him leaving. Because he planned on doing it no matter what, and he really didn't want to piss her off.

"As for your genuine concern, I think I can do without it, thanks."

…

Kenny butted in before Eric could give a response, "No Kyle, she'd totally be okay with it. Just talk her through your plans and you'll see. She'll rally behind your decision in no time." He then absentmindedly reached over to grab another fry before realizing the fat ass moved them away. "Just make sure to call her," he finished, folding his arms into his chest to hide his gurgling stomach.

Sick of this conversation already, Eric began to gather his things as he shot Kyle his closing remarks, "Well I'm hurt Kyle, I truly am." He pushed back his chair as he cast Kyle an apathetic look. "I was just trying to get you to put your aspirations into perspective and, of course, you had to jump all over me with your self-righteous bull crap."

He stood up quickly, swinging his bag over his shoulder as he growled, "Whatever, Jew, just don't throw a temper tantrum when you realize you're nothing but a redneck douchebag to the lot of 'em."

Kicking the back of his only true friend's chair, Eric growled 'Butters…' before making his way out of the cafeteria.

Butters, who has been silent this whole time, timidly peered to Kyle as he remarked, "I think it's great that you have such big dreams." He quickly got out from his seat, knowing Eric wanted him to follow as he hurriedly gathered his things. "Don't let anything get in your way, Kyle. Really," he smiled before rushing off to join his friend.

…

"What an asshole," Kyle muttered, going back to his lunch.

But what if Cartman was right? There was a strong possibility that if he went to New York, he would be singled out as a hick. He could only imagine how different his style and mannerisms were from those of city people. But… he couldn't be the only one from a small mountain town who hoped to end up in the city, right? There was Wendy, for one.

He suddenly realized his appetite was gone. Fucking fatass. He pushed his tray down the table toward Kenny.

"Here you go, Ken," he said, "I'm not that hungry."

Glaring distractedly across the cafeteria, he continued to dwell on what Cartman had said. No, he thought. I can't let him get to me. I can do what I want. And screw anyone who says otherwise.

But despite his attempts to get the fatass' taunts off his mind, he continued to fume in silence for the rest of the lunch period.

…

"Eric! You really should be ashamed of yourself!" Butters called out as he finally caught up to Eric. The larger boy continued to scowl down the hallway. "Kyle seemed so happy about going to college and all… why did you shoot down his dreams?"

"Because, Butters…" Eric growled, stopping in the middle of the hallway before grabbing a hold of the scared blond's shirt and crashing him against a locker. "Why don't you tell me?" A couple people were watching them, but didn't care enough to intervene.

Butters desperately gripped onto the hand currently holding him against the cold metal as he dared to look up into his enraged friend's eyes. He noticed the lack of color in them as he muttered, "I…I really don't know…"

"Well you should!" Eric perked up, suddenly letting Butters go as he turned to continue his walk down the hall. He sounded almost amused as he puffed, "Stairwell."

Butters massaged his neck back to order as he coughed, "Are we having one of those 'talks' again?" He slowly proceeded to follow the brunet.

"Something like that," Eric said as he opened the door to the empty stairwell. He ambled over to one of the stone steps and plopped down. As soon as Butters timidly walked through the door himself, Eric took a deep breath and got to his main point: "I can't let him move away from here."

"Well that's awfully selfish of you," Butters yelled down to the seated boy, crossing his arms in anger. "I would have thought you would have wanted him to-"

"Butters," Eric interrupted, glaring up at him with a dark glare as his eyelids narrowed sinisterly, "do you remember how many times you've helped me save his life?"

Nervously taking a step back from where he was standing, Butters looked to the ceiling, mentally recalling all the times he assisted Eric in his secret quests to assist his nemesis. "Um… more than I can count now?"

"Exactly," Eric emphasized, bringing his head into his hands and sighing, "he can't move."

He gripped onto his brown tufts in exasperation as he raised his voice, "I've fought too hard to keep him here; he can't leave me like this he can't!" He started to madly skim over ideas of how he could solve this seemingly unsolvable dilemma.

Peering down at his deeply disturbed friend, Butters closed his eyes in determination and took in a large breath. "Eric… if I may," he exhaled, finally gaining the courage to confront Eric with something he'd been meaning to talk to him about, "I just think… it might be time for you to start thinking about what you want to do with the rest of your life." He paused to anxiously look down at his seething friend – no response. Feeling a tad more annoyed, Butters spoke out again with more irritation in his voice, "I mean, you can't just expect Kyle to stay here… and quite frankly I think your obsession with him has gotten a little-"

"So wait…" Eric suddenly spoke up, taking his hands off of his head as he quirked an eyebrow questioningly, "you're saying that I should start looking at colleges with him?"

"Well, not necessarily with him, but yeah!" Butters perked up, happy that Eric was getting his point. "You should totally think about what colleges you want to get into…" But he trailed off as he remembered that Eric probably needed to focus more on his school work for that to happen. So with his enthusiasm flagging somewhat, Butter's hands dropped to his sides as he nervously added, "But I think… your grades need to improve a little."

"Wait… just wait a second, Butters…" Eric kept his focus on the ground in front of him as a brilliant plan started to formulate in his head. "I think you're onto something."

He suddenly cracked a smile.

Butters reciprocated the smile as he brought his hands up to praise, "Yes! Please! Think about yourself! You don't need Kyle –"

"That's right!" Eric interrupted him, suddenly getting out of his seat to pace the floor. "I don't need Kyle to stay here! Butters…" He quickly gripped onto his equally happy friend as he announced, "If can get my grades up, maybe I can go to the same college as Kyle!"

As elated as Butters felt two seconds ago, he felt equally as disturbed as soon as Eric revealed his plan. "What? No! That's – that's not what I meant!" he shook his head as he explained to the bewildered brunet above him. "I meant that if you get your grades as high as Kyle's, you might be able to –"

"BUTTERS YOU'RE A GENIUS!" Eric suddenly threw Butter's off of him as he laughed. "I can get Kyle to help me get my grades up!"

However, he realized that it would be quite a challenge to get that to happen – so taking his chin into his hand, Eric stroked his jaw line as he thought out loud, "It'll take some convincing, but he's always out to do the better thing, and if I tell him I'm really serious about this he'll be sure to believe me… I just won't reveal what college I want to go to until he decides which college he wants to apply to…" He rolled his eyes upwards in contemplation as he played out the scenario in his head.

Brushing himself off after Eric's shove, Butters peered back to his friend in annoyance as he shouted, "No Eric! Just do your own thing!"

Turning around to grasp at his friend's shaking body once more, Eric looked straight into Butter's baby blue eyes as he spieled, "This is my own thing; this has been the answer all along."

Instantly bringing his head down to peck his bewildered friend's cheek, Eric threw the blond off of him again as he stormed up the stairs. "Thank you Butters! I've got to get to class! I just know that Jew will be in the Library at the end of school!" he cheered excitedly before disappearing into the third floor.

Watching as his friend disappeared up the stairwell, Butters brought his hand up to his cheek to touch the spot where Eric kissed him. He then looked to the ground in frustration as he too stormed out of the now silent stairwell.

…

One of the many things that annoyed Kyle about his school was that it was a county high school – Middle and North Park kids went there too, and, to be fair to everyone, the school was situated in Middle Park. This meant that it was too far away for him walk home. And, naturally, his mother didn't want him driving around getting into car accidents, so he lacked a car. It was really an annoying situation. Stan had a car, of course, but he also played on two different sports teams.

Long story short, Kyle spent a lot of time in the library after school waiting for Stan to get out of practice. Of course, it wasn't necessarily a bad thing – he got a lot done and it was the only time he ever got any peace and quiet. No nagging mother, no asshole fatasses, no stupid teachers and imbecilic classmates. It was just him, his homework, and, today, his laptop. Really, it wasn't a bad thing at all for the most part. Sometimes he even got some writing done, though it wasn't the kind of thing he would ever tell anyone about – let alone show them.

So today, as usual, he situated himself in the back of the library behind the bookshelves…. as far away as he could possibly get from any other human being that should happen to come in. Stan had football until five-thirty and Wendy had a National Honor Society meeting (she was the president, of course) – which meant he had at least two hours of complete alone time before he had to deal with their mushy relationship crap and then go home to his family.

Really, when all was said and done, it would be the highlight of his day.

…

The final class period had ended, most of the school let out, and Eric knew exactly where he was going.

Rushing down the flights of stairs to get to the first floor, Eric ran down the hall to get the place where he knew his Jew to be. To be honest, Eric only ever went to the Library to get books on some of his 'favorite' subjects and to use the school's free internet. However, there was one other reason he visited the Library, and that was to spy on that pesky redheaded bookworm.

Eric knew that Kyle liked to believe he was secluded back where there were a couple of seats behind the last aisle of bookshelves, but the brunet discovered his little hiding place a long time ago when he was searching for the World War II archives.

The first time Eric found him back there, it almost took his breath away – it was as though he discovered some sort of wild animal huddled in the back of a hidden cave. Ducking behind one of the bookshelves, sometimes Eric would just sit there, watching him – wondering what he was studying for, what he was thinking about… if it was ever about him. Sometimes Eric liked to imagine that he did think about him – so much so, that when Kyle would occasionally doze off in one of those comfy seats, Eric would actually dare to walk over… just so that he could get a closer look at him, sleeping so peacefully. The one time though, when he attempted to reach his hand out to graze Kyle's cheek, he almost woke up – and Eric bolted away before Kyle realized that his secret place was compromised.

However, now Eric was finally going to let Kyle know that he knew of his little base, and as he stormed past the plethora of computers, desks, and bookshelves – Eric could see the all too familiar nook where he knew Kyle to be.

Slowing down his pace to a stroll, Eric collected himself before ducking behind the usual corner – peering carefully over to the stately chair where Kyle sat.

And there he was! Typing away at his computer, writing God knows what as he so comfortably assumed that he was indeed alone.

Smirking to himself, Eric gained the courage necessary to emerge out of his hiding place. He snuck up behind Kyle soundlessly as he narrowed in on what his Jew was writing.

As he came to stand directly behind Kyle, Eric cracked a devious smile, reading out the last line of what the Jew had written: "…it seemed like a dream she once had but could never remember, something intangible –"

…

Kyle jumped despite himself and slammed his laptop closed before whipping around to come face to face with the absolute last person he wanted to see.

"What the hell do you want?" he said, voice cracking slightly from embarrassment. He could feel his face burning up, and he decided that maybe he should just stick to homework from now on. After all, the library was still a public place to the student body, as much as he liked to pretend it was his own personal office space. "God, can't you back off EVER? You have no right to come sneaking around here invading my privacy."

He turned back around and crossed his arms. Cartman never ceased to amaze him with his uncanny ability to humiliate him, even after all these years. Of all people to catch him writing. Of all people.

"Why aren't you leaving, Cartman?" he muttered angrily, not bothering to look back at the boy.

…

"Because! I'm impressed with the little story you're writing!" He swung around to sit on the arm of the chair Kyle was sitting on. Leaning in closer, he continued to tease, "Don't you want some input? Especially now that you want to go off to some East Coast college where their criticism will probably send you to a heap of emotional garbage?"

He smirked, knowing this was driving Kyle crazy. "You already hate me enough, it's not like anything I say about your writing will make you hate me more…"

…

"Shut the fuck up, Cartman," Kyle said, elbowing Cartman in the side as hard as he could in an attempt to get him off of his chair. "You're right; nothing you can say will make me hate you more. My opinion of you can't possibly go any lower. So you're just wasting your time here. Go give someone else your input and leave me alone."

…

"Hrgh!" Eric fumbled off the chair, massaging his aching side as he choked out, "Typical nonsense. I could tell at the lunch table that what I said about you moving to the East Coast got to you… I made sense didn't I?"

He kept his gaze focused directly on the redhead as he narrowed his eyes. "Why don't you give me some fucking credit… as much as I love to see you suffer, I also love to see you fight. And you don't have a fighting chance out there if you don't think about what you're doing."

He stood up straight, ready to move onto his main point as he smirked, "I'm actually thinking about what colleges I want to go to."

…

Kyle looked up at the larger boy and narrowed his eyes.

"Oh, really?" he asked, completely confident that Cartman was up to something. "Where? Denver Community College? Or… ITT Tech maybe?"

He smirked. Two could play at this game. If Cartman could shit all over his future, then he could do the same to any ambitions that asshole might have. He wasn't about to show that what Cartman had said at lunch might have gotten to him. Especially since he was the one who actually had a future.

…

Oh Eric knew that Kyle was just trying to be the smug little ass face that he likes to think he could be. But to Eric, his comment was nothing more than a little Jew Princess jab that, if anything, amused him to no end.

"Oh Kyle, wouldn't that just titillate you so?" he circled Kyle's chair ravenously as he maintained eye contact with the Jew's defiant green orbs. "Seeing me at ITT tech… training to be your plumber?" He puffed at how ridiculous that sounded. Shaking his head in disappointment, Eric closed his eyes before continuing. "However, no. I have other plans, plans that actually… could benefit you as well… if you care to listen to them."

He perked his brow, trying to convince Kyle that he was actually worth listening to.

…

Well, this much was obvious: Cartman wasn't planning on leaving him alone any time soon. Kyle found himself wishing in vain that Stan's practice would let out really early.

"Fine. Tell me about your little plan, Cartman," he said, rolling his eyes. He normally didn't like to encourage his nemesis whenever the word 'plan' was involved – because it always meant something bad that would do anything but benefit Kyle. Cartman probably had some master plan to weasel himself into Harvard by lying or blackmailing admissions counselors – and if it came down to it, Kyle could find a way to stop him. But… he was also, admittedly, just a little curious.

…

Yes! Eric thought to himself. An ecstatic but evil grin stretched across his face as he knelt down in front of Kyle's chair. Now staring at his Jew at eye level, he spoke, "Ok Kyle, hear me out." He closed his eyes, gripping both arms of the chair as he loomed over the non-phased Jew.

"I know, and you know, that my grades are not as high as they could be." He opened his crazed eyes again, his smile further conveying his maniacal nature. "And to get into the colleges that I want to get into, I'm going to have to start to shape up my GPA for the competition, na klar?"

Lowering his head down ever so slightly, Eric continued to speak directly at his Jew, his eyes becoming devious slits. "And you, my dear Kyle, need to shape up for the assholes that you're going to be facing once you get to the college that you want to get to."

He let Kyle think about that for a moment, before standing back up to finish. "So what I'm trying to get at is… you be my tutor, and I'll give you the practice necessary to take on those elitist scumbags who are going to be edging for the opportunity to attack you until you're nothing but a cowering lump of flesh!" he bit off the end of his sentence, his gaze as hysterical as ever as he impatiently waited for an answer.

…

Kyle thought about Cartman's proposal for a minute… On the one hand, having to deal with Eric Cartman on a regular basis again probably would help him out later when he had to face criticism from professors who actually knew what they were doing. Sometimes he did think he'd gotten soft in his years of actively avoiding Cartman when he could. On the other hand… he'd have to deal with Eric Cartman on a regular basis… which is probably the worst way to spend his remaining time in South Park.

However… the asshole was giving him an amazing opportunity to be overly critical of his work and he'd have access to all of Cartman's terrible grades. This could prove to be very fun, if he handled it correctly. Cartman was giving him permission to make him feel stupid. And that was pretty appealing.

But then again, Cartman had that bat shit crazy look in his eyes that said 'I have something much bigger planned and you won't like it'… which made Kyle think that the cons would probably end up far outweighing the pros if he agreed to do this.

"Give me one good reason why I should help you," he said finally. "Preparing me for college… that's bullshit and you know it. Why should I put effort into helping you get into college when I don't give a fuck about what you do after this?"

…

"Oh but you do care about what I do after this, Kyle," Eric snarled, maintaining his ground as he lifted his head, "I'd argue that you care significantly!"

Narrowing in on Kyle's flared eyes, Eric didn't miss a beat as he spoke out confidently, "How would you feel if your tutoring alone brought my GPA up so high that your teachers took note of this, and would give you the recommendations necessary to complete your applications? Or have you forgotten that colleges are now looking for an amount of community service within prospective students' applications?"

"But besides all that, wouldn't it just feel wonderful?" Eric instigated, stretching out his arms. "Knowing that your smarts alone turned the renegade deviant of the school into something the facility would be proud to show off to the colleges I apply to?"

…

…He had a point.

There was no denying that it would look good on applications if his tutoring showed a marked improvement in Cartman's grades. He supposed it would count as a type of volunteer work, too. Or at the very least, he could write in his personal statement that his horrible experience tutoring a 'renegade deviant' helped him grow as a human being.

"There's like a month left of school, Cartman, I'm not sure how much I'll be able to do for you in that time," he said, and then he smirked maliciously at the other boy. "Or do you need help with summer school?"

Then, for a reason he couldn't entirely explain, he felt bad for being hard on Cartman – he was, in his own fucked up way, just asking Kyle for help after all. Kyle sighed and rested his chin on the palm of his hand. He tried to search Cartman's face for his trademark deception, but it was so hard to tell with him.

"Look, Cartman," he said with all seriousness, "I might consider this if you're actually serious about it. It's honestly really late to realize that your grades aren't getting you anywhere… but I guess better late than never, right? If you really want to go college and you really want to get your ass in gear… I suppose I could help. But if you slack off or complain AT ALL, you're on your own."

…

Feeling an enormous weight lift off of his shoulders, Eric stared at Kyle incredulously. He was amazed at himself that this actually worked!

"Really? I mean…" he corrected his surprise immediately, putting up a non-phased expression. "That's so awesome, I had a feeling this would work out for the best!"

He still caught himself showing too much excitement, so he hardened up. "But it's really more for you, Kyle," he said, glancing over again and crossing his arms into his chest. "Consider this a favor. It's not every day that I would come asking for your help – so stroke your ego while you can." He walked over so that he was parallel to Kyle's seat.

"And who knows," he teased, daring to poke Kyle's bicep, "maybe you'll learn one or two things yourself." He peered down at his Jew again and his eyes brightened ever so slightly, involuntarily revealing some of his autumn-brown wisps. "So when do we start?"

…

"Well… I'm here 'til Stan gets out of practice, so… if you aren't doing anything, I guess you could fill me in on what you need help with," Kyle said, sitting stiffly in his chair as he motioned for Cartman to take the seat next to him. "And don't touch me."

He took a notebook out of his backpack and opened to a new page. If Cartman was staying, he would make a sort of to do list for them. If not, he would just get started on his chemistry homework.

"And hey," he said, meeting the other boy's gaze, "I'm considering this a favor to you, not me. But I think it's cool of you to take a step in the right direction."

…

Kyle's little compliment actually caused Eric to blush somewhat and he looked away to hide his embarrassment. It was actually surreal of him to actually see Kyle act nicely towards him. A part of him actually liked it – but it was a part of him that needed to shut up so that he could make this plan actually work instead of fail miserably if he accidently freaked Kyle out or something.

"Yeah, well, I guess I have nothing really planned for now anyway."

He stepped over to sit next to Kyle and rested his elbow on the armrest, carefully making sure his other hand wasn't near the redhead as he began, "I'm okay in my History and German classes… but I'm doing piss poor in my Math course and my Science grade could use improving."

He watched as Kyle studiously started writing things down, focusing in on his rustled up red locks, wanting to touch them so badly. He swallowed a lump of need. "I have a solid 3.0 right now, but I know if I get it up to a 3.5 or something I might have a chance," he finally said, shifting around to hide his arousal as he continued to watch Kyle so diligently plan out their tutoring session – obviously having no idea what this was doing to him.

…

Kyle couldn't help but laugh and smile sadly at the brunet. "Cartman… it's impossible to bring your GPA up that much. Even if you decided to take a year off before college, three semesters isn't enough to bring it up half a grade point, and this semester's practically over, so…"

He stopped, observing how the other boy's face fell just slightly.

"But, colleges love to see improvement. Especially if it's drastic. We might not be able to help your GPA that much, but your transcript will reflect that you at least tried. And if you can swindle a couple of good recommendations out of your German and History teachers, and manage an impressive SAT score you could definitely have a chance at some good schools. Not the best, but good," he said, putting as much encouragement in his voice as he could manage.

He knew Cartman wasn't stupid, and despite how much he detested him, he couldn't help but feel that it was such a waste that the kid slacked off so much. Cartman had so much potential – he had seen firsthand what he could do if he set his mind to something, and as much as he always whole-heartedly disagreed with what Cartman did, it was often quite a feat.

"Ok… I guess we should start with your math. First off, do you not understand the subject? Or do you just not want to try?" he asked. Knowing Cartman, it was the latter.

…

Hearing Kyle's honest reply certainly put Eric in perspective, but he still wouldn't give up on the plan. So with fierce determination, Eric sat up straight and exhaled, "It's not that I don't try, it's more that I don't understand how the equations turn out the way they do. Algebra's fine, but this pre-cal stuff? I just don't know where it came from. It's like... I missed something."

"And I really want to be able to fix what I missed because I feel like if I understand that part, that I can move on," he explained, content as all hell that Kyle was listening. "Because I really want to go to a good college... a great one even." He didn't want Kyle to catch on, so to say, but he definitely wanted him to know that he meant serious business.

…

Kyle was kind of impressed with Cartman's apparent honesty. Actually admitting that he messed up and felt lost rather than claiming the teacher was out to get him? Of course, it certainly wasn't the first time he'd confessed that he wasn't the best at something – he'd done it before, but it was always a lie or an attempt to get something he wanted. And Kyle couldn't really tell if he was being honest now. He'd never been good at seeing through Cartman's bullshit.

So naturally, he assumed that Cartman was full of bullshit, just in case. He was positive that Cartman was trying to screw him over – he just didn't know how yet. But somehow, a small part of him believed that maybe, just maybe, Cartman really did want to improve.

"Ok… let me guess, you got lost on limits," he said, not asking so much as assuming that was the problem. He began writing down equations, explaining them as he went. Completely focused on the math, he absentmindedly played with a lock of his hair with his free hand.

…

Eric couldn't bullshit around with this one; yeah he could blame the teacher and make up a bunch of excuses as to why he sucked – but the point of this whole thing was that he really did need help if he wanted to get into the college that Kyle wanted to get into. So no excuses, no lies; he really did need to be honest with Kyle if this was going to work.

But this didn't mean he couldn't have some fun.

So after Kyle went over some of the harder concepts he couldn't grasp, Eric said, "This is great, Kyle. I'm already learning so much." He glanced over as Kyle continued to twirl that one freaking curl of hair over and over again… God he wanted to feel how soft it was. He could tell it was so springy and… God if he could grab it now… run his fingers through the rest of them…

God damn it he needed to focus! This was only the first session!

"But," he forced himself to continue, covering his 'excitement' with his notebook, "I was wondering, honestly… what college are you really thinking of applying to? Like, your number one?" He really wanted to see what school he had to fight to get into as he then questioned, "Do you really think you'll have what it takes?"

…

"Oh, uh," Kyle said, snapping out of his math-focused stupor. "Like I said at lunch, when you so graciously gave me your blessing…" He gave Cartman a pointed look that told him he hadn't forgotten how much of an asshole he'd been earlier. "I've been looking at NYU for a while. I really just want to get out of Colorado, so I'm applying to schools all over the place, but New York seems just… really appealing. I think I can find other people like me more easily in a big city. And I really just need something more my speed. This town is like, rotting my brain more and more with every day I spend here."

He fiddled with his pen, not making eye contact with Cartman. "I think people expect me to reach for the stars or whatever. Like, you saw Wendy earlier – how she acted when I said NYU, as if it's some shitty two-year community college. My mom's the same way. But, sue me if I don't want to go to an Ivy League. I want to have a life outside of school, you know? NYU is like the perfect blend. It's a really great and selective school, but it won't like… suck the life out of me."

He laughed a bit, realizing how stupid he must sound. And Cartman probably didn't really care what he wanted for his future – the fatass was probably just bored of calculus and already looking for a distraction from his tutoring.

"But that's not important," he concluded quickly. "Are you starting to understand the math a little better?"

…

Eric was actually deeply engrossed in Kyle's speech, making sure to listen to every word so that he could get a feel for what his Jew really wanted. If he was going to make this work, he needed to convince Kyle that he was just as enthused about his own future as Kyle was with his.

"Yeah, I really think I do, honestly," he confirmed, worriedly thinking back to what Kyle said about Ivy League schools and knowing for a fact that he couldn't make it into one of them. "And you're so right about those Ivy League schools. I mean, you really don't need them. Besides, as I said, they're filled with egotistic assholes who would gladly cut your throat if you get in their way."

But Eric wasn't necessarily sure that he could make it into NYU even, so with a deep breath, he collected his bag and groaned, "New York however… I still don't think you'll be ready for it."

He then looked down at the Jew and added, "You do have a tendency to fly off into Jew Princess tantrums, and if you can't handle insults, well, then, New York City is no place for you." He harrumphed. "Especially in that kind of environment… they'd eat you for breakfast."

…

"God damn it, Cartman, I'm not a princess!" Kyle yelled, standing up. Then he remembered he was in a library and blushed a bit.

He crossed his arms, eyes narrowing. "I don't give a shit about what you think," he whispered harshly. "I'll be fine in New York. I can handle myself around assholes just fine when I need to. But I don't need to deal with you. And I certainly don't need to help you. You can't even fucking go one session without insulting me? Fuck you."

He started to pack up his things. "I'm going to go watch the rest of Stan's practice. Find someone else to mooch off of; I don't want to put up with your bullshit."

…

"Oh don't get defensive, Kyle…" Eric ragged. Rolling his eyes, he spoke out a little louder as Kyle collected his things. "Instead of fleeing like a pansy, why don't you stand up for yourself and fight back!"

He really wanted more than anything for Kyle to fly off the handle. "As I said," he continued, "I'm here to help you, too… and if you want to move up in the ranks in New York… you're going to have to show them that you've got some fucking balls." He curled the end of his sentence and chuckled to himself in self satisfaction.

"So if you wanna run to Stan… sure, go ahead," he added. His eyes darkened significantly, knowing this next bit would really dig deep. "But there won't be a Stan in New York to run to..." he laughed to himself before cracking a malicious grin. "How sad for you."

…

"Fucking Christ!" Kyle yelled, despite his previous attempt to keep his cool. He dropped his book bag and lunged toward the larger boy, grabbing his shirt collar. "SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

He considered punching Cartman in the face, if only to wipe off that stupid grin. But, no, he couldn't start that bullshit up again. Especially not on school property. And after that outburst, a librarian was probably on her way over. So he released the brunet, reluctantly, and backed up a few steps.

"You're so unbelievable," he muttered darkly. "You came asking for help and now you're doing absolutely nothing to make me want to give you the benefit of the doubt. I knew this was just a way for you to piss me off. God fucking damn it…"

He glared down at Cartman, who was still seated. "I'm not going to fight you," he said, though he knew full well how close he came mere seconds ago. "Stop trying to provoke me."

…

Words could not describe how euphoric Eric felt when Kyle lunged at him like that. Feeling his Jew's hands grip his shirt ever so diligently as his fiery eyes focused solely on him – and his own eyes sucked up that fire like a freaking demon… It felt like heaven the entire time. And Kyle yelling at him like that, basically telling him that he really did get to him and he was absolutely right about how pathetic that Jew brat was. So emotional… he really didn't stand a chance out in that cold city alone – that's why Eric knew he had to do something to make sure he would be there with him.

Composing himself once he agonizingly felt Kyle let him go, Eric coughed slightly and responded, "I was doing nothing to provoke you Kyle."

He leaned back onto his chair and started to tap his fingers against his arm rest. "God forbid I try to point out that you may need to hone your communication skills," he suggested, really trying to win Kyle back. "If someone makes a suggestion to you like that in college, is that how you're going to respond?"

"Not everyone is going to be nice when it comes to framing their criticism, and if you can't take it then honestly Kyle… you really, honest to God have no place in that kind of environment," he added, eyeing Kyle up and down.

"How about this – let's start over," he said, getting an idea. Eric stood up to pace in front of his irritated Jew. "I'm going to rephrase my criticism – I must admit, I may have been a tad juvenile when I first gave my two cents," he joked, shrugging as he laughed. "It's a bad habit that you are all too aware of."

He smirked, turning around to face the redhead again as he perked up, "You think you could keep your cool?"

…

Kyle didn't stop glaring at Cartman, though an uncomfortable truth was starting to dawn on him – that maybe he did need an attitude check. He was so used to being endlessly praised by his teachers here, but he couldn't see college level instructors being so easily pleased. What if he really couldn't take criticism? What if he blindly ignored criticism on the basis of pride only to end up failing miserably in college? He conceded that maybe he was too headstrong… and maybe that wouldn't serve him well in the real world.

But, the things Cartman said to him couldn't possibly count as real, constructive criticism. Professors would give him suggestions on how to write research papers; Cartman belittled his heritage, his family, his interests, his friendships… everything about him. It wasn't criticism. It was ignorance and hatred. So it really wasn't the same thing. His reactions toward his old enemy were completely justified… right?

"I…" he began, forcing himself to stop staring daggers at the boy, "fine. We can do the tutoring thing. I can keep my cool. If you drop the subject of my future. We're here to worry about your college plans. Mine are irrelevant. Got it?"

…

Eric grinned and calmly approached the tempering redhead, happy that he won the situation back over.

"Certainly Kyle," he soothed, stopping when he was standing directly in front of the smaller boy. "But I must insist that this isn't all about me."

He dared to reach out to place a neutral hand on Kyle's shoulder. "By the end of this, I do intend to teach you just as much as you intend to teach me." He narrowed his eyelids preemptively and lowered the timbre of his voice. "That is… if you're willing to learn…"

…

Kyle's breath hitched, both because of Cartman's close proximity and the strange tone in his voice. He looked up to meet his eyes, and there was a strange sort of glimmer in them – something only slightly removed from his usual mischievous look. He was definitely up to something. But… what it was, Kyle couldn't even begin to speculate.

"I," he said, finding his throat somewhat dry for no reason he could think of, "I thought I told you not to touch me."

…

Eric quickly took his hand away, letting it hang it in the air as he maintained eye contact. He spoke out again with his guttural voice, "You're hesitating… do you want me show you how to be the best asshole you can be Kyle?"

He perked up one of his eyebrows and cooed, "I can do that for you. I show you how you can stick it to those Yankee scumbags without breaking a sweat."

Looking at Kyle's nervous disposition, he teased with his half lidded eyes, "Like you are right now…"

…

The moment Cartman removed his hand, Kyle backed away from him more. Something was seriously up with this kid. More than usual, that is. And it was starting to freak him out.

But despite that, he had to stop himself from just saying 'yes' in response to Cartman's question. He didn't know what possessed him to just want to go along with it, but he knew it couldn't be good. The asshole was clearly trying to charm him into doing what he wanted, just like he always did with everyone he met. But he couldn't let himself fall for it. He wasn't a child anymore. He should be smarter than this.

"Why does it matter to you what happens to me when I leave here?" he whispered, though he wasn't sure why. "If they eat me alive… wouldn't that be like a dream come true for you?"

…

Eric shook his head, chuckling to himself as he brought his hand down to rest precariously on his hip. He continued to loom over his trembling Jew as he soothed, "See, only you would really believe that I would think that way."

He shifted his head back so that a tuft of his fluffy brown hair would move off of his face. "No Kyle, I don't want you to be eaten alive all the way out there. The one thing that riles me more than your possible defeat is the fight you'd be putting up on your way down."

His eyes dimmed significantly as he growled, "And those fuckers? They'd snuff you out before you got the chance to cry out your little protests."

That last statement caused him to become significantly aroused. He inhaled sharply as he sucked up the delicious turmoil radiating from Kyle's body.

"You're too ambitious for that to truly be the end of you," he dared to compliment, knowing that was truly what Kyle wanted to hear. But then he added, with a copious amount of poison tinting his growl, "You may be right. I am interested in seeing you fall from grace." He smirked devilishly from above, but quickly lightened up his devious expression. "But even more than that, Kyle, is my interest in seeing you fight for the grace you'd be falling from."

Knowing that he was on a roll, Eric brought his hand up to flick a curl out of Kyle's face.

"So how about it? Why don't you prove to me that you won't take that fall?" he asked, slowly tucking the bit of hair behind his Jew's ear. "That you're man enough to get what you want and keep it for yourself."

…

Kyle involuntarily closed his eyes as Cartman touched his hair, leaning into the touch just slightly. As soon as he realized what he was doing, however, he quickly jerked away from the larger boy and resumed his defiant glare.

"I don't have to prove anything to you," he said, his heart racing. God, what's going on here? He tried to keep his voice steady as he continued. "Just because I'm choosing not to fight you doesn't mean I don't have any fight left in me, Cartman. You're just… not worth getting riled up over. That's all."

He walked around Cartman and back to the table. "I can be an asshole, too, you know. Don't worry about that," he said, picking his book bag up off the floor and putting it on the table, his back toward Cartman. "Maybe you should care less about me and New York and start studying calculus, hmm?"

…

Oh God, if Kyle just closed his eyes for a tad longer Eric could have snuck in another touch of those angelic curls. God! One touch just wasn't enough! But, oh God, he finally did it – and that curl felt softer than anything he'd ever touched. It was like petting a flame, warm to the touch and smooth as a feather – but of course, linger to long and you get burned. Surprisingly, though, Kyle apparently didn't care too much about that move!

Eric was too overwhelmed by his current state of euphoria to actually listen to what Kyle was bitching about – yet when Kyle whisked over to collect his books and mentioned that tidbit about caring about calculus, he quickly snapped out of his daze.

"Oh, right," Eric shook his head, walking back over to the table himself. "Do you have any more notes that I could, you know, look though in addition to the notes I took today?"

Despite them going back to their normal conversation, Eric could only look at those curls still… he finally had the feel of them to go along with the look. Something he was dying to know to add to his little… personal fantasies.

…

Breathing a sigh of relief, Kyle began shuffling through his bag to look for notes. He didn't know what was going on with Cartman. Most likely some elaborate scheme that had little or nothing to do with studying for college. The stunt that asshole pulled with his hair… well… Kyle couldn't come up with a way to explain that away. Nor could he justify how he reacted to it. But it was clearly part of a master plan of some sort.

Or maybe it was just a weird fluke. It was best to just forget about it, really. Cartman seemed to have dropped all the bullshit he was saying, anyway. Now that things were normal again, everything would be ok. But then, he was looking for notes to help Eric Cartman – this wasn't normal in the least, even to begin with.

He was beginning to wonder just what he got himself into by agreeing to tutor this kid.

Finally withdrawing his pre-calculus notebook, he looked up to meet Cartman's eyes. "Um, here," he said, handing over the book. "I'm in the honors class, but, that should help. At least for the first two thirds of material."

…

Shrugging his messenger bag over his shoulder, Eric moved to take the notebook. "No problem, I think I'll be able to take something out of it," he said, hastily grabbing the notebook and accidently touching Kyle's hand in the process.

Quickly shifting his hand, Eric held back a breath. "I'll just take this then… I'll give it back to you tomorrow, if that's okay."

He tucked the notebook in his bag as he tried to mask his flushed expression.

…

Kyle had been glad Cartman already had the notebook in hand when their hands brushed, because it would have been difficult to explain why he yanked his hand away and dropped the book like it was on fire. He quickly made a mental note to look into local psychiatrists – there was clearly something very wrong with him today.

"Oh, um, that's ok," he said as casually as he could. He finished packing up his stuff before turning back to Cartman. "You can just give it to me… whenever. I guess. Um… do you want to meet again tomorrow? I mean, because you really have a lot of progress to make and we barely got anything done today. And I have to be here while Stan's at practice anyway."

…

Eric's enthusiasm flagged when he suddenly remembered Stan. Oh that's right… pesky… best friend.

"Sure!" he perked up.

"We can meet tomorrow and I'll give the notebook back to you then. I'll try to really look it over tonight so by the time I get here tomorrow… we can go over something new," he suggested, trying to get his mind off of how terribly antsy he felt over this whole session.

…

"Yeah, sure," Kyle said uncertainly, trying to find any hidden meaning in Cartman's words. "Just… come here after school I guess."

He began to make his way toward the aisle of books, heading toward the library's exit. "Oh, and Cartman," he said suddenly, stopping to look back at the brunet, "I'm serious about what I said. About being an asshole. You're on thin ice already. Don't fuck this up."

And with that, he walked away. It would be an interesting few weeks. Or days, depending on how quickly they killed each other.

…

Eric watched Kyle boldly leave the library after giving that blunt warning and couldn't help but roll his eyes into the back of his head. He flopped down on a nearby seat and took his head into his hands.

"Hmhmhmhmm…" his laugh started out small as he thought over all of the little things he was able to say and do to Kyle. And as he recollected all the little looks and sounds Kyle made whenever he would cross the line, or break an obvious boundary, Eric's laugh became more and more maniacal. He realized that he was a fucking genius and that it would only be a matter of time before Kyle would be putty in his massive, unforgiving hands.

"Shhhh!" someone called out from one of the aisles. "Fucking crazy asshole…"

Upon hearing that 'asshole' bit, Eric reluctantly shut himself up as he remembered Kyle's words. He took his Jew's notebook out of his backpack to gaze upon Kyle's scribbled but diligent handwriting.

'Don't fuck this up? How unsightly. Well, let's see how far I have to push you before you fall through this thin ice we're on my dear, dear, Kyle.'

…

Kyle left the library as quickly as he could, not wanting to look back or be forced to talk to Cartman any more than he already had. He felt like his blood pressure had skyrocketed from their tutoring session – and, as such, he was already regretting his decision to go along with it. Despite the bullshit Cartman spewed, he knew logically that any "good" that came out of this arrangement would be far outweighed by the inevitable toll it would take on his health and sanity.

He ended up sitting in the bleachers watching the end of Stan's soccer practice. Or, rather, he sat on the bleachers thinking about what had gone on with Cartman – he honestly couldn't care less about soccer, though he always pretended to for Stan's sake.

There was something up with Cartman. Kyle had no idea what he was playing at, but he really needed to up his game if he was going to get one step ahead of that asshole and stay there. He wasn't going to be manipulated. Not anymore. Not ever again. But then… why did he get so easily worked up over the fatass' stupid comments? It wasn't like Kyle really cared what Cartman thought of his dreams and ambitions. Because, honestly, graduation was the last time he ever planned on seeing that douchebag. Good fucking riddance.

So why the Hell was he still thinking about this? And why did he lose his cool earlier? He never flew off the handle anymore. He was too old for that shit. He took his mom's bullshit, so he should be able to take Cartman's, right? It just wasn't fair. He thought he had self control now. But… perhaps it was just a testament to his ability to avoid Cartman… not to his ability to keep his cool.

God damn that son of a bitch, he thought bitterly. What right did Cartman have to piss all over his college plans after asking him for help? What right did he have to tell Kyle that he was doing him a favor? And what fucking right did he have to touch him like that?

"Hey Kyle!" he heard from beside him, and he jumped a bit. It was Wendy, obviously back from her meeting. His heart was racing, and he felt himself blush. He knew there was no reason for it, but he felt embarrassed to be thinking about Cartman of all people – and he was irrationally scared that somehow Wendy would be able to tell. "You're back from the library awfully early."

"Oh, uh, Cartman showed up," he said simply, and she nodded sympathetically.

Yeah, he wouldn't go any further than that. Telling people that he was tutoring Cartman would just make things more complicated. If there was one thing he hated more than he hated Eric Cartman, it was pity. Also, when people ask too many questions. And if people knew he was doing this, there would be a lot of questions and a lot of pity.

He made small talk with Wendy while they waited for Stan, attempting to keep his mind off of what happened in the library, and it worked… though it wasn't so easy when they were driving home, when Stan and Wendy were both far more focused on each other than they were on Kyle. It was even worse at home, since he spent most of his time alone in his room avoiding his mother.

So, he gave in. If his mind was so set on thinking about the stupid tutoring agreement, then he might as well put it to good use. He spent the remainder of the night creating problem sets for Cartman to do. He would give them to him the next day and, while the fatass worked through them, he could get his own homework done. It was the perfect plan. He would still be tutoring, but they wouldn't have to speak to each other, and all the weird crap that had happened earlier wouldn't be repeated. He wasn't going to give Cartman the opportunity to try anything. He smiled to himself. One step ahead.

…

A/N: More to come soon, and we'd love feedback!