Random and slightly pointless introduction: I'm going to switch the POVs around a lot in this story. Why? I don't know. Don't ask. I don't really have anything awesome to say here. Let's see how many people read this... If you read it, put the word "blueberry" somewhere in your review, if you review the story.
Warning: Some swearing.
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Kyle's going to study to become a doctor the second he starts his college. That's why he went to Heritage. It has great classes for that kind of thing. He's so smart, and he's going to do something great, I know it. He'll be an amazing doctor for sure.
And Cartman, he's going into politics. I can see him becoming a senator or something. Maybe even president someday. God knows he'd be the perfect guy for that kind of thing. He's definitely a leader. Not an incredibly good leader, but he can make just about anyone follow him.
And Kenny, he's just talented. He draws, he paints, he sings, he plays guitar... Not only that. He's a photographer, too. He's amazingly artistic. I actually believe that he could become famous, in any of those categories.
They all have their lives planned ahead of them. They set up where they're headed, and they know what they want.
But me? I have no fucking idea what I want to do. Sure, I can think of a few careers that I wouldn't mind having. But I don't know what I want. It's so confusing. I almost wish one of them was as clueless as me. Almost. But I don't really wish that, because I don't want any of my friends to be as stressed and helpless as me. It's not a pleasant feeling, I should know.
Oh, and this summer is gonna be hell. I have to work really, really hard if I want to be able to buy a fourth of an apartment. Plus, Kenny's particularly short on money this year, so it'll be more than a fourth. Oh great.
In the money I have saved for college, I have less than Kyle and Cartman. Hell, I'm not that much better off than Kenny. He and I are going to be working are fucking asses off all summer. Some amazing break. Ugh. Isn't this going to be so much fun?
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Only partially awake, I lay in bed. In my head, I was conscious, I just couldn't move or open my eyes. That doesn't make very much sense, does it? I don't care. It doesn't have to. I'm tired. Get over it. I tried one last attempt at opening my eyes, and I thought I did. Then I realized I had only imagined opening my eyes, because there were waffles in front of me. Damn, those imaginary waffles looked good...
"Stan! Wake up! Dammit, Stan..." I couldn't tell who's voice that was. I'm guessing it's Shelly.
"I'm... awake..." I groaned, my voice hardly audible to even me. "Fuck off, Shelly..."
"You have to get up, Stan! Now!" the voice said, more forcefully this time.
"Get the hell away from me, Shelly..." I muttered, still half dreaming about those really, really awesome-looking waffles. I forced my eyes open. They were sticky with sleep, so I blinked a few times before getting them into focus. I frowned in confusion. "You... aren't Shelly..."
"Wow, good job, Stan!" Kyle clapped in sarcasm for me.
"Stop with the clapping..." I mumbled, closing my eyes again. "I feel like I have a hangover... But I don't remember drinking any alcohol last night..."
"That's because you didn't, stupid," Kyle said, flicking my forehead. "Wake up. You, me, Kenny, and Cartman have things to do today."
"That's what she said..." I murmured.
"What- Dude, that hardly makes sense."
I finally managed to keep my eyes open and glanced at the clock. It was ten in the morning. "Dude. It's so early."
"I know, now let's go."
I stared at him and frowned. "Wait, how did you get in my house?"
He blinked and his eyes glazed over for a moment. "Not important. We have to go get Kenny and Cartman."
I turned to the other side. "Get them first, I'm tired."
"Yeah, well, imagine how hard it's gonna be to get them up," he snorted.
"Okay, fine, I'm up. Happy?" I said, leaning up. My head spun a little, but I got out of bed.
"Very, now let's go get Cartman."
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We all sat in Kyle's room. Kenny was on the floor, leaning against the wall. Kyle and I were sitting on his bed, and Eric was in Kyle's desk chair. "Ugh, why couldn't we go to Stan's house? Or mine?" Cartman groaned.
Kenny raised an eyebrow. "What do you have against Kyle's house? Or my house?"
"Well, yours is rat-infested and probably has diseases..." Cartman said, with a slight grin.
The blond glared. "Oh, mine has diseases? Everything in your house probably has STD's, because your mom's a complete whore."
"Ey! You can't talk, you're a bigger whore than my mom," Eric growled. By now, the insults we would always throw at each other didn't actually bug us, we just acted like they did. We were way to used to being called dumb Jews or nerds (for Kyle), pussies or fags (for me), poor man-whores (Kenny), and fatasses, or some other synonym of fat (Cartman).
"So why not my house?" Kyle said while trying to balance a pencil on his little finger.
"Because you mom is a fucking bitch, and I hate you," Cartman replied.
Kyle just rolled his eyes and threw the pencil at him.
"Ey!"
"Guys, guys, we woke up this early, shouldn't we at least talk about what we're supposed to be doing?" I sighed.
Kyle shrugged. "I'm thinking I'll just babysit. It's an easy job, and parents love me. I don't really know why..."
"You get good grades, dude. They think you'll rub off on their brats or something," Kenny said. "Lucky you. I'd totally babysit all summer, but no one wants some ghetto, white-trash, redneck, smoking, drug-addicted teenager to babysit kids."
Cartman nodded. "Stan was probably about to say how you're not a bunch of those things. But you're right, Ken, no one would want you near kids. The same goes for me."
I glared at Cartman. "Well, Kenny isn't a ghetto, white-trash, redneck, drug-addict."
"But he is a teenager that smokes. That alone is enough for no one to want kids near him," Kyle pointed out.
"Can we not talk about me like I'm not here?" Kenny rolled him eyes.
"So what were you thinking of as a job, Ken?" I asked.
"I don't know. I think I might have to work two jobs," he said thoughtfully.
I groaned. "Me, too, dude."
Cartman grinned smugly. "I only have to get one part-time job to get enough money."
I grabbed a pillow and threw it at him. "Shut up, dude."
