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-Hollow

(line break)

He honestly couldn't remember the last time he had been so tired. He wasn't sure how long ago it was since he'd blinked. His vision was slightly blurred as he stared at the computer screen. It was brightly lit compared to the rest of the dark room. His fingers glided across the keys as he typed hastily. How did he ever expect to finish this before the night was over? It seemed impossible.

He took in a large gasp of air, as if he'd forgotten to breathe the entire time he had spent on that single paragraph. The words had all fuzzed together into thick black lines of text. He wasn't sure how much of it would be salvageable by morning.

No. He had to get it over with before he met back with his group, which was…

His eyes fell to the clock at the bottom right corner of the screen.

…in ten hours.

A yawn erupted from him and he shifted closer to the desk, his muscles aching as they were dragged from sleep. His left leg became pins and needles, his right a numb buzz. He let out a sigh and moved his cursor to save what he had typed up. There was no point in writing something if he couldn't even tell what he was saying anymore. He wanted the essay to be quality, not obviously poorly done. That was his justification for dragging himself to his bed, still fully clothed, and drifting to sleep at three in the morning.

(line break)

Kyle woke up around eleven, the afternoon light finally bright enough to cut through the curtains. He growled and pushed his head into the pillows, not wanting to move. He could hear people moving around downstairs, his parents, who had most likely already been awake for many hours at that point in time. His eyes slowly opened fully, lingering at the dark monitor on his desk.

Kyle hated sleeping in his clothes. When he fell asleep in his jeans, it was always a really weird feeling in the morning. He felt like a very sweaty, groggy mess that only a shower could fix. He only had two hours before he had to get to the library. He didn't want his parents to know he was awake yet, but he really needed that shower.

He knew he should have gotten further into the essay the night before. He shouldn't have even postponed it for as long as he did, and now they had a week left before a major project was due. He sure as hell knew Cartman wasn't going to do anything to contribute, and who knew what Kenny would be able to help with. Craig was a bit of a wild card; they weren't entirely sure why he had been put in their group in the first place, actually. Kyle wouldn't be surprised if Craig didn't even show up that afternoon.

Stan was their only chance of passing the class before winter break. God, he should have known it would come down to them doing all of the work.

As his hand clasped itself around the mouse and he jumped the computer from sleep mode impatiently, he found himself reading over the essay he had attempted to finish the night before. He cut out everything he had tried to put together and hit the print button at the top of the screen.

"Eighth grade really fucking sucks," he breathed.

(line break)

Kenny was the only one at the library when Kyle arrived, surprisingly. Kenny's only explanation was too muffled for Kyle to even catch fully, so he shrugged it off. He was pretty sure he heard the word 'penis' in there somewhere, and that's all he needed and wanted to know. They found a table toward the very back to sit at, amongst a rack of audio books and a wall covered in maps.

"Did you do anything regarding our project this week?" Kyle asked, setting the half-written essay on the middle of the table.

Kenny nodded eagerly, digging around the pockets of his parka. A few seconds later, he pulled out a well crumpled piece of notebook paper and dropped it onto the table top. Kyle picked it up and unfurled it, only to reveal a really terrible drawing of…something…presumably a person? It also had the words "suck my dick" written at the top.

Kyle snorted and tossed the paper at Kenny's head.

"Did you do anything productive regarding our project this week," he rephrased, punching the chuckling blonde in the arm.

"Not really," Kenny muttered.

Stan arrived a few minutes later than Kyle had set the week before. Cartman was following close behind with his arms folded and a sneer on his face as he greeted them with a short "hey, fags."

Stan sat down across from Kyle and let the poster board lean against the end of the table. Kyle could see that a few things had been written and the pictures had been pasted down onto the sides. Kyle watched Cartman expectantly.

"What, you really expected me to show up here with my work done?" Eric scoffed.

"Come on, dude, I'm not doing the work for you again," Kyle objected.

"I'm not doing the work for me either."

"But then our project won't get finished!"

"Well, well, well, Kahl, it looks like we have quite the predicament on our hands," Cartman said.

Kyle let out a short puff of air, his face reddened with anger. "I'll tell the teacher you didn't do any work., and you're going to have to deal with the zero."

There was a brief silence as Kyle pulled a piece of blank paper out from under his essay. He slid it across the table toward the heavier boy. Cartman grumbled in distaste, obviously irritated. Cartman took a pencil from his pocket and started to write one of the picture captions. From the front of the library, the sound of the door being opened behind a maze of bookshelves was only slightly audible. Stan twisted around in his seat.

"Oh, god," he groaned.

Wendy Testaburger stepped over one of the blue bean bags set beside a shorter bookshelf with a stack of books in her hand. She put her things down at the table closest to Kyle's, and a few seconds later Token sat in one of the chairs. She said something to him quietly, and then she was walking toward them, her boots softly thudding on the carpeted floors.

"I've gotta go," Stan whispered urgently, standing so quickly his chair almost fell over. He turned the other way and skittered toward the doors.

"Hey, Ky-"

"Way to go, Testabitch," Cartman snickered. "Looks like our little group meet is over, Kahl. Hope you don't mind finishing the photo captions for me." He got out of his seat and walked toward the exit, Kenny following him.

"Sorry, dude," Kenny said, glancing over his shoulder and back to Kyle for a second before going through the library doors.

Wendy stood at the head of the table, her face flushed. She tucked a long strand of black hair behind her ear and sat down in what was Stan's seat. Kyle made a stack of the papers for their project, pulling it closer to his chest.

"I just got him working, too," Kyle sighed begrudgingly.

"Sorry for breaking up your study group, Kyle," Wendy apologized, frowning. "I'm just really freaking out over this project. I don't know what to do! No one's going to take me seriously, and I'm going to look ridiculous in the middle of History class and it's a major grade, and...and I have to put naked pictures on my poster. Pictures of naked Grecian men, Kyle! I can't do this, everything is a disaster-"

"Wendy, slow down," Kyle said, cringing. "It's going to be ridiculous for everyone in the class. You're just the only person who could actually make it look good."

"I-I guess so," Wendy nodded. "What was your project about again?"

"The possibility of incest in English families during the 1800s."

"Oh," Wendy said. "I guess my topic doesn't seem all that bad, then."

A smile flashed over her face. Kyle sniggered lowly as he pulled the poster board closer to him, re-situating it against the table. Wendy looked over to Token at the other table, who was occupying himself by looking at the summary on the back of one of the audio books. She let out a soft hiss.

"Look, Kyle," she began, turning back to the redhead. "I didn't mean to scare Stan away. I still wanted to be his friend, it's just...things got complicated. I never wanted to hurt him. That's why I broke up with him in the first place. You know that..."

"Yeah, I know."

"Alright, see you around," she said with another small smile, standing and walking back to her table that Token had reserved.

Kyle stared blankly at Cartman's hardly legible handwriting on the piece of paper on top of his essay. He shook his head in dull shock, because he had already guessed that he and Stan would be the only ones to actually get anything done with their project. He let out a long exhale as he grabbed the board and the stack of paper, and was only glad that, as the two in the back kissed, his best friend hadn't been there to see it.

(line break)

Stan sat on the bench facing Stark's Pond, skipping a few frost covered stones over its surface. He didn't jump at Kyle's sudden voice that broke through the quiet, because he knew it wouldn't take him too long to find him. He only ever ran off to one place. Even in sixth grade, when his parents were fighting on Thanksgiving, he decided to run away and live on his own but his sister found him in a sleeping bag near the pond freezing his ass off.

"Dude," Kyle said, "not cool."

"Sorry," Stan mumbled, standing up to face him. A few red curls were poking out from under his hat, that same dumb hat he'd had for years. He was a bit out of breath from having to run so far with a huge poster in his arms, but he refused to put it down in the snow.

"Come on, let's go play the Gamesphere or something," Kyle laughed. "We can work on this later. Without that fat asshole."

"Okay, awesome!" Stan grinned, crossing the snow with a set of satisfying crunches and his footprints left behind. He took the poster from Kyle's hands and held it tightly in his own. Kyle tried to put the loose papers into some kind of a stack and held them down at his side, starting away from the pond with Stan at his side.

"You'll be alright, though?" Kyle asked, after a moment's consideration.

Stan rolled his eyes. "Yes, dude," he said firmly.

Kyle glanced at him sharply, his eyebrows raising the slightest bit.

"Oh my god," Stan snorted, his free hand smashing into his face. "I'm fine, dickweed!"

Kyle barked out a laugh and shoved him. He jump started into a fast walk when they turned the corner and could see Kyle's house from the sidewalk. Stan chuckled and shook his head, hefting the poster board over his head and trying to catch up.