Friendless
b Kyles P.O.V/b
"Look, it's the Jew." Eric's voice hisses in the ears of students as I pass them in the halls. Just three years ago these students would have been considered my friends—people I could talk to, joke around with, and hang out with without it being some sort of taboo. I could see it in their eyes; they were soaking up his words without even a second thought. A knot forms in my stomach as their glaring eyes turn on me.
"Ay, Jew boy!" Eric throws his chubby arm over my shoulder jerking me into his chest. The smell is foul—something mixed between rotting meat and overly sweaty man tits. I jerk away glaring at him.
"Go away Eric," I hiss rubbing my face as I try to traipse off. But the fat ass just wouldn't let me. Of course not, he had some form of torture in mind for me instead I bet. He glowers at me and jerks me back to his body as he continues walking. I roll my eyes and give in shaking my head. His body odor was sickening. "Jesus, when was the last time you bathed fat ass?"
"Ay!" He hissed wrapping his chubby arm around my neck. "What's wrong with the Jew today?" I glowered at the ground and shoved him off. I didn't really want him knowing what was going on at home; especially since it was so private. About two weeks ago, they had been informed that Ike's original parents wanted to start monitored visits. The adoption agency had said it was some sort of religious awakening, and that they wanted to be a part of their son's life. Ike didn't handle it well, and we haven't really been able to get more than three words, or single syllables out of him. "Kahl," Cartman glowered stepping in front of me. Was that a hint of worry I saw in his eyes? I mentally scoffed and stepped around him.
"Just let me get to class fat ass," I grip at my backpack handle tighter and keep my head down making my way to AP Science. I sighed sliding into my desk next to Wendy and lay my head on my book. She looks over warily; we haven't really gotten along since she and Stan started dating again. In my defense, he's been an asshole ever since. "What?" I groan turning away from her.
"Nothing," She sighs and turns back in her seat staring at the board. The silence between us two only lasted for a moment before she turned in her desk to face me. "Why are you being such an ass to Stan?" Her voice said there was no room to lie; so I did the next best thing and completely avoided it by remaining silent. "Kyle," Her voice hissed in a whisper. "Answer. Me." I turned in no mood to deal with her cramp and gave her the bird—I'm learning a little to well from Kenny.
At lunch, things were worst than in the morning. It felt like everyone was angry with me for some stupid reason or another. Not that it mattered, that's how it worked every day isn't it? Get mad at the Jew, because he's different. That makes everything better.
Stan placed his tray across the table from me and sighed looking up at me. "Dude," He opened his carton of milk and chugged it. "I don't know what's going on, but you either need to talk about it, or get over it. You've never stayed mad at me for this long before!"
That's right, I glare at him softly. I'm mad at my Super Best Friend, and guess what? Everyone thinks I shouldn't be. But they don't even understand why I'm so angry with him. They just think no one should ever be mad at the star football player.
He was the first person I called when I found out there was a chance that Ike might be made to go live with his original parents. Yes, I know it would take a lot of legal actions and several lawsuits, but there was always that small chance I could lose my little brother. I spent the week stressed out and paranoid with all visitors that came to the house. I begged Stan to come over several times, and each time he had something he had to do with Wendy. He still doesn't know about what's going on, and I intend to keep it that way.
"Whatever," I sighed picking at the roll on my plate. He watches my hand with his brows furrowed. He wants to say something, and even opens his mouth. But Cartman cuts him off as he sits his fat ass down right beside me.
"Hey fags," He grunts reaching over and jerking the roll from my hand. I let him have it; not like I'm in any mood to eat. I've still got far too much to worry about. Eric throws his elbow into my upper arm and glares questioningly. He's catching on. Believe it or not, as high school goes on, he's more and more capable of this thing called emotions. But we have yet to witness any empathy from him; so he's still a fat sociopath.
"Whoa," Kenny sits on the other side of Stan staring at the rest of us curiously. "What did I miss?" The blonde pulled his hood off long enough to shove food down his throat. He was usually in the loop on everything; this time though he was as clueless as the rest. "What happened here?" He looks between Stan and me, and then glares at Cartman. "Alright lardy tits, what the hell did you do to Kyle?" A small smile graces my lips as I bow my head to Kenny. He had always been relatively protective over me—something about my morals being further up my ass than a thong. He was drunk, so it wasn't even worth questioning.
"I don't know," Stan groans glaring at my softly. I know he hopes it would get the words out of me. I won't let it work this time.
"Nothing." I push my tray to Eric annoyed and grab a book out of my backpack. If I pretended to be studying, I knew they wouldn't bug me. They know better than that.
Home. God, home has never felt so good, and so bad. Ike is sitting in his corner glaring at the photo in his hands. I know what the picture holds before I even think to ask. Tears form in the corner of his eyes as he looks up. He's been really upset about this whole thing, and hasn't even said much to any of us.
"Kyle," He whines angrily. "Why did they come back? I talked to a counselor, and she says it's probably…" He has a hic in the middle of his sentence. I drop my bag and ease into the corner beside him. My arm instantly drapes over his shoulder and I pull him close into my chest. "She said it's only making me so upset because I have a dedication to my biological parents. But Kyle," He looks up and wipes his eyes shaking his head. "I don't want to see them. Hell, they don't know me, or who I am!" Amen. I kiss the top of his head softly and muss his hair.
"Then don't. It's your choice Ike, and I'm behind you no matter what you choose. And so is Ma and Dad." I look my brother in the eyes trying to convey the honesty in my sentence. He looks away quickly and crumples the picture before trembling.
"If they want me now…why didn't they just keep me?" He stares at me tearfully and I pull him into a tight hug. There was no answer I could give that would seem right with him. How on earth could it? I don't know his biological parents. I haven't even given them the time of day to say hello. That might not have been a good idea. I never considered how this would make my brother feel.
"I don't know," I sigh and look at the roof silently before looking at Ike again. "But I do know this. When they gave you to us, you were our blessing. You're not part of our blood, but you ARE part of our family. And you're a big part. We'll always have a spot for you here, but if you want to try and visit them, we'll be waiting here for your return everyday." The tears form in his eyes again. Only this time, I can tell that its not from anger, or depression, or desperation. It's from appreciation. He understands how much he means to this family; how big a role he plays in the way we get along. There's just times, where we need to admit it to each other more.