Disclaimer: I do not own South Park or its characters.

He inhaled deeply for a moment, letting the tainted air waft into his lungs, and then escape in a convulsive cough. "Dude," The dark haired one passed the rolled paper to the boy sitting to the right of him before he continued. "That shit is heavy."

Kyle laughed, taking the blunt between his first two fingers. "I'm thinking weed is not for us." His arm was shoved by the one next to him.

"Damn pussy Jew. Hand it here." The roundest of the bunch placed the burning cylinder between his lips and breathed in. All eyes were on him for a minute, before he finally shook his head and exhaled. "This tastes like shit." He passed it to the one in the orange parka. "Here, Kenny. Maybe you can eat it. Your white trash mother probably didn't feed you today anyway."

Kenny's eyebrows furrowed and he snatched away the joint. "Fuck you, fat ass."

"All right; let's get to business." Stan clapped his hands together as Kenny took in a drawl of smoke. "So far, the plan is: Kyle is telling his mother he's at my house, Cartman's telling his mom he's at Kyle's house, and I'm telling my mom we're all staying at Kenny's. What're you going to tell your parents?"

"Why the hell do I have to tell them anything? I said, 'I'm going to Cancun for spring break.' My word is law." It was silent for a moment before the rest of the group finally snickered. "Okay, okay. So, my mom said I'll go to hell and have to answer to Satan if I go and I'm not back by Sunday to go to church."

Cartman muttered something about Kenny being a poor pussy, but it was widely ignored. "Hey, weren't there supposed to be cupcakes?"

"No one said anything about cupcakes, fatass." Kyle rolled his eyes.

"No, I'm pretty sure someone said they were bringing cupcakes." Cartman stated matter-of-factly, an index finger pointed in a knowing fashion. "Where are the goddamned cupcakes?"

Stan, obviously the least annoyed, shook his head and stood, stretching a little before forcing his way out of the small huddle. "I'm heading home. Kyle, you need a ride?" The red-headed boy stood as well and followed Stan away from the other's, leaving the docks of Stark Pond and heading towards the light blue truck parked in the grass. Once the two were alone in the car, Stan laughed. "When are you gonna get a car, dude?"

Kyle answered with a chuckle. "As if. My parents won't buy me a car, or let me get a job to buy one myself. It's a lost cause." He reached across the cab of the truck to lightly push Stan's shoulder. "Besides, I have you. Why would I need a car?" Stan laughed in agreement, knowing full well he didn't mind in the least having company in his truck.

A few moments of comfortable silence passed. Stan noticed, and acknowledged just how comfortable it was. He heaved a great sigh, and rolled down his window, letting the night's air wash away the smell of weed. "I'm excited for spring break."

"Yeah," Kyle nodded, suddenly enthused. "I hope my mom doesn't decide I need to stay home to do extra credit or something. I can hear her now." He formed his lips into a frown before continuing in a high-pitched nagging voice. "Kyle Broflovski, do you expect to get into Harvard with those grades? An A? I'll accept nothing below A+!"

Stan snickered at the thought, but was more amused with how much Kyle had managed to sound like his mother. "Dude, that would be gay." A silence wafted through the truck again before Stan laughed.

"What?" Stan shook his head to Kyle's question, but he insisted. "What's so funny?"

"I told Cartman there would be cupcakes."

As realization hit him, Kyle laughed. "God, he's a fatass." The chatted briefly about leaving times and how to split the costs of gas on the trip to their spring get-away before, in what seemed such a short time, they arrived in Kyle's driveway. Kyle ran his fingers through his slightly curly hair, which was way past due for a cut before turning to Stan and grinning. "See ya tomorrow."

The taller of the two nodded and swiftly waved his hand to the boy stepping out of the cab. "'Night!" He yelled out of the open window, and then pulled out, heading towards his own driveway.

The next morning, Kyle awoke. He was not woken by his mother, his father, his little brother, or his arm clock, which he turned to face him so he could watch each minute tick by until, finally, seven of clock came around. He hopped out of his bed and rushed into the shower. As the room filled with steam, he sighed. There was no way anything could go wrong today.

Breakfast was waiting for him downstairs, but he was too excited to eat. To avoid his mother's disappointment, he grabbed a slice of toast from the middle of the table and jetted out, glad for the slight honk of a horn. "Hey, Stan!" He waved as he exited the home, dragging his brown shoes through dewy grass. "Have you told your parents yet?"

"Yeah, you?"

Kyle leaned his head back and looked to the ceiling of the cab, shaking his head. "I'm waiting for the opportune moment, dude. There's no way I can just out and say, 'I'm gonna go stay at Stan's for a week. Later!'"

"Ahh, if life were so easy." To both of their disappointment, they arrived at school much faster than usual, it seemed. When he saw Kyle's dreading face, he reminded him that it was the last day of school before their week of freedom. "Besides, we probably won't do any work today anyway."

They both entered the school, but soon left each other's sides to head to their separate classrooms. Stan took his seat next to Kenny in his first period, as usual. "Hey,"

"Yo." Stan laughed as he remembered the days when no one could understand Kenny due to his parka. While the blonde had grown out of the phase, he still often talked muffled. "Did you do the homework?"

Stan grinned as he dug in his backpack, yanking out a wrinkled paper and handing it to his friend. He nodded to a sincere, 'thanks, dude,' and turned towards the front of the room.

Two hallways away, Kyle sat, glaring at the boy sitting next to him. "Come on, Kahl. Leme borrow your homework for a minute."

"No, fatass. You should have done it last night, like everyone else did."

"Uhm, look, Jew fag, you're the only one who did it."

Kyle looked around the class, disbelieving but soon changed his mind when he noted that he was the only one with a piece of paper in front of him, filled with 25 quadratic equations. "You still aren't copying."

"Bitch."

"Fatty."

"Oh, that hurts, Kahl. That hurts. Except, I'm not fat."

"Yeah, you are."

"Well, you're Jewish."

"Yes, I am."

Cartman's eyes widened in response and he excitedly shouted, "So, you admit it!" to which Kyle could only shake his head in a disapproving manner.

The day flew by much quicker than either of the two had imagined, but they were still both terribly relieved to be back in the truck, heading home. "Dude, just walk in there and tell her what we planned. She doesn't bite."

"That's what you think," Kyle muttered under his breath, peering out the window.

"Fine, then, I'll come in and tell her."

"You will?"

Stan shook his head. "No, stop being a pussy."

Once again, Kyle hopped out of the truck, this time grumbling and stomping. Stan only laughed at how immature his usually grown-up friend was acting. He reached his house and was immediately met with a ringing phone, which he answered. "Yeah?"

"Dude, you will not believe it."

"Kyle?"

"She said, 'yes'!"

Stan grinned, shaking his head at his friend. He could already tell. It would be a fun week.