I had no intention of talking to Cartman if I didn't have to. There had always been a strong discord between us, and being together in the same vicinity almost never produced a good outcome. We were catalysts to each others' anger.
But since the days of my confession to Stan, our relationship had become a bit rocky. Neither of us wanted to give up the friendship, but we felt like strangers to one another. It was as if my admittance had peeled away some invisible layer of my existence, revealing below something volatile and fragile that Stan was afraid to touch. It even scared me.
My thoughts were confirmed only a few days later.
"Hey." Stan greeted as I sat next to him at the dirty, white laminate lunch table.
"Hey." I sighed, dropping my body heavily on the bench beside him.
"What's the matter?" He asked.
"Nothing, I guess." I mumbled.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"Okay then."
There was a long silence as we both ate our lunches. I took small bites and chewed for a long time, not at all hungry. This whole ordeal had been upsetting, to say the least. I just wanted to move past it - but it seemed the air of awkwardness persisted anyway.
"So..." Stan and I said at the same time. I blushed, looking down at my tray.
Stan cleared his throat. "So," He said, slightly more forcefully, "Do you want to do something after school today?"
I felt a blossoming pang in my chest at the offer.
"I'd love to, but I have a lot of homework. Plus I have to watch Ike tonight." I lied. It wasn't that I didn't want to spend time with Stan. I was dying to. But the thought of being alone with him made me feel like I was going to vomit. I wasn't ready to go back to how things used to be. How could I? Now that I had told him, I couldn't erase the marks I had gouged into our friendship. Only time could erode away my mistakes - and I had no idea how long that would be.
"I see." Stan said, sounding surprisingly disappointed. "Maybe some other time then."
"Yeah."
Again, we both sat in silence, picking at our food. I couldn't shake the feeling of melancholy growing heavily inside me, like I had swallowed a marble or two. I felt tired and confused. I knew things would never be the same either way, but I had hoped it would be for the better. Not this - whatever this was.
A few more days passed, and we talked less and less. Stan started to hang around Wendy more, and for some reason that made me feel worse. What was wrong with me? Was I not deserving enough of his company?
If I had just been born a girl…
'No.' I scolded myself sharply. 'Don't think like that. You're only saying that because you got your heart broken by that dumbass. Don't feel like you should have to change for him - or anyone.'
However, I still thought it.
I sometimes played around with the idea of becoming a girl, but within me I knew that that was stupid. And when I pictured myself, it didn't seem right.
Regardless, I sometimes stole my mom's makeup or looked around the girls' section at the clothing store - I even tried things on. I kept telling myself, 'Just give in to whatever you're feeling. This will go away soon.'
But it never went away.
~xXx~
Weeks went by, and Stan and I hardly glanced at each other, let alone talked. An icy ravine had fractured the earth between us, separating the loved from the loveless. But I no longer wanted to be with him. I didn't want to be with anybody.
I sat alone at lunch, letting my thoughts congest and writhe inside me like an infected wound. I was a brooding mess.
That is, until Eric Cartman set down his lunch tray beside me. I looked up from my food in surprise at the sudden presence of another person, letting my gaze flow upward to the face of the last person I wanted to see. He stood there, refusing to break eye contact. I hated to admit it, but his statuesque expression and posture was a little intimidating.
"What do you want?" I barked, my voice cracking from its under-use.
"Nothing." He answered, his face distant and emotionless as he sat next to me.
I looked back down at my tray, trying to bite back all the terrible words I wanted to unleash upon him. I wasn't angry at him - but he happened to be the closest human being near me and I was a ticking time bomb.
"Look," I said, still gazing downward, "I don't want to start any drama today. I'm not in the mood or the condition to argue. So if you're going to say anything retarded or juvenile then please just fucking leave."
"Fine." He said flatly, picking up his sandwich and taking a bite. I looked over at him curiously. What the hell was he up to?
"'Fine'? Just, 'fine'? No smartass remark?" I thought aloud, genuinely confounded at such a simple response from him.
"Yeah. Is that an issue?"
"No, I'm - I'm glad."
"Okay."
It was alien for Cartman to act so unemotional. He was normally rife with either anger, greed, spite, or some combination of the three. It made me feel uneasy.
"Why did you sit by me, anyway?" I questioned, dumbfounded as to why he would be anywhere closer than ten feet to me.
"I heard about you and Stan." He replied, setting his sandwich down and looking at me.
"So?" I said quizzically.
"So," He blinked a few times, then started picking at his fingernails. "So, I figured you needed a replacement friend."
I felt the blood rise up into my face. Replacement friend? What did he think I was, a charity case?
"Thanks but no thanks," I said, letting the irritation radiate off my words. "Stan and I are still friends. I don't need your pity."
"Then why have you been sitting alone for two weeks?"
"I-" I was about to rebuttal, but I realized I had no way to defend myself. It was true, and I knew it. I didn't have friends anymore - I had pushed them all away with my little temper tantrum.
"I…" I felt my anger subside. "Can't believe you're right for once, Cartman." He smirked, his brown eyes finally conveying some semblance of vitality. "But," I continued, "Why are you trying to be so nice to me?"
"People change, Kyle." His smile fell. "I just want you to give me a chance, okay?"
"And what if I don't fully believe you're being truthful?"
"Well, that's your loss then. I don't care if you have to sit alone."
I contemplated his offer. Never before would I have considered a friendship with Cartman - but it was starting to look like my only reality. If I continued on by myself, who knew what would happen to the state of my mental health?
"Alright." I said. "I'll give you a chance. But if you screw up - we're done. Got it?"
"Yeah, yeah." He replied. "I'll be on my best behavior." That was the snarky Cartman I knew. But interestingly, his sarcasm didn't bother me. In fact, it made me smile. Maybe his personality was a much needed break from what I had been used to.
"So, friends?" I asked cautiously.
"Friends."
~xXx~
The pact I had made with Cartman left me wondering why the hell I had done it.
The next several days, we didn't grow any closer. But we also didn't grow apart. It was an inverse yet stable kind of friendship, and it felt foreign to me. Cartman made no attempt to try and seal the gap between us, and I didn't have the energy or the motivation to try it myself. I just didn't want to be alone. So when Cartman said something substantial to me at lunch, it took me by surprise.
"Hey Kyle," He spoke up from a long period of silence, "Do you want to come over to my house tonight?" He wouldn't look at me.
I sensed my face scrunch up into a look of confusion and awe. Eric Cartman inviting me to his house? That hadn't happened since elementary school. Why was he being so kind to me suddenly? It was a little pathetic, but his hospitality made me suspicious. Knowing him for twelve years tended to yield that effect.
"Uh, sure." I said, not certain how else to reply.
"Cool."
~xXx~
Cartman's room had stayed eerily similar to how it looked when we were kids, minus all the mess and clutter. Clyde Frog was propped up against his pillow.
"Wow. It's almost exactly like I remember." I said stupidly.
"Yeah, I don't like to get rid of stuff."
"But it's a lot cleaner."
Cartman let out a weak laugh and opened his closet, where a myriad of his possessions were precariously stuffed. It looked like it would all topple over if you breathed on it. "There's even more shit under the bed." He informed, only half kidding around.
"So, you're a hoarder now?" I jeered.
"I prefer to call it, 'collecting.'" He said in a comical matter-of-fact way. "Besides, you can't tell me you've just thrown away everything from your childhood."
"Well, no," I started, "But I do get rid of things I don't need anymore. It's called growing up." I hadn't meant that to sound mean, but I was afraid it had come out that way.
I was determined to keep this bridge that was forming between Cartman and I, not burn it to the ground with my clumsy word choice. I didn't want to be on bad terms with people - and now was my chance to fix this. I needed to get used to the fact that we weren't little anymore, and should be able to carry an adult conversation without spiraling into a fight.
He laughed lightly. I felt relief.
"I guess I'm still just a kid then." He sighed and closed the closet, staring at the ground for a long moment. When he finally looked back up at me, I realized I had been staring.
"What are you looking at?" He said, irritated. "Don't think we're all hunky-dory just because I invited you over. This doesn't mean anything, okay?"
"Sorry," I apologized swiftly, taken aback by his sudden change in demeanor. I paused. "But don't you think that maybe, we could be on better terms? I mean, it's about time we get over our indifferences and move on."
"I don't think that's possible, Kyle. Ever."
"Why not?"
"Because," He growled, "We're not compatible, you and I. Offering you my company was a retarded idea and I'm seriously regretting it. You know why?"
"W-why?" I stuttered, my eyes wide and full of concern.
"You're my weakness, Kyle. You always have been. And it pisses me off just thinking about how much you're able to influence me. I'm weak and pathetic and I don't enjoy anything anymore!" He looked like he was close to tears as he choked out his words. "I'm turning into someone I don't like - and you're not helping."
I didn't know how to respond.
"Then," I said, carefully enunciating each sound of the word, as if a mispronounced syllable would further injure this vulnerable side of Cartman, "Why did you want to hang out with me in the first place?"
He flushed red and turned violently in my direction. I flinched.
"Because, you dumb asshole! Neither of us have friends! Now that Stan's out of the way - maybe I can change that."
"I thought you hated me?" I asked tentatively.
He sighed and heavily dropped his body down onto his bed. "I thought I did too."
I felt words forming on my lips, but none of them seemed like the right ones. Instead, I cautiously sat down next to him.
We both looked off into the distance, absorbing the quiet and the feeling of another person so near. The ticking of the clock added to the soft, mindless, and comforting drone.
I didn't know what had happened to Cartman. I didn't know what was going to happen. He had suddenly transformed into someone that I didn't know how to handle. Insults, curses, general ignorance - that I could deal with. But this... I had no clue. And I don't think he had any idea either.
"I'm sorry." Was all I could force out of my mouth. I hoped that within those words he would sense all the other things I couldn't say.
All he did was smile weakly and look away from me.
"Kyle."
"What?"
"Do you..." He breathed deeply and stopped. "Never mind."
"What? What were you going to say?" I pried.
A red tint had dusted his cheeks again. After a momentary look of contemplation, he spoke, "Kyle, uh," he turned to me.
Before I could process the action, he leaned over and gingerly placed his lips on mine. It was like a barrier had been irreplaceably shattered, the fragments burying themselves in my heart and in my head. It was over in a second. I sat in shock, my face more than likely pale and eyes wide.
Cartman looked away from me. "Get out." He whispered hoarsely.
"W-What?" I shook my head. "But- "
"Get. Out." He said through clenched teeth.
"Cartman, please, can't we just talk about this?"
"No!" He yelled, startling me slightly. "Just leave. Just fucking leave. I know that you want to. You're disgusted and horrified and frankly, I would be too."
I had to process my thoughts faster than I was thinking then. I had to outgun myself and say, "But I'm not."
He inhaled like he was going to say something, but halted mid-breath. "What?"
"I'm not horrified or disgusted or anything." I said curtly, "But I had no idea..."
Oh God, was this how Stan felt?
"You don't have to be nice, Kyle."
"I mean it. I'm just... surprised."
Cartman was quiet, staring down at the floor and biting his lip. Then, he abruptly looked over to me, a wild look of excitement glazing his eyes. "You're going to be my boyfriend, okay?"
"Woah woah woah what?"
"You heard me."
"Cartman, that's - that's not how it works."
"Well then I can be your boyfriend! I'm not picky."
"I have to agree to this, firstly." I was trying hard to bite back sheepish laughter at his haphazard proposal.
"Oh." He acknowledged flatly. "So do you want to or not? Better decide before I change my mind." I could see that he was ever-so-slightly trembling.
I had to take a moment to contemplate what was being offered to me. All those years of fighting and disagreements... did they even matter anymore? Our relationship was one built on distrust and second-guessing the other, so in reality I knew him better than I knew anyone else. But did I really like him?
My thoughts were flashing 'no,' but deep down in some archaic part of my human intuition I knew that that wasn't the right answer. I knew what I wanted to say and I knew what I needed to say - it was only a matter of determining whether I could pretend the other didn't exist.
To hell with it.
"I will." I answered gingerly, my heart racing. "But not right at the moment. We should do more things together and see if it's a good idea or not."
Shouldn't I be thinking about this first? In truth, I didn't know how I felt. Maybe this was just some rebound reaction from my disaster with Stan - but dammit, I was excited. A murderer could have asked me out and I would have considered it.
"Wait - really?" Cartman said, true surprise covering his face.
"Yeah," I answered, feeling empowered by his reaction, "Why not? It could be fun."
"You are such an asshole." He said, smiling a little.
"I speak from the heart." I teased further.
We stared awkwardly at each other after that, unsure what else to say or do.
"Well, I... I better get home." I spoke up, my bravery diminished. I felt biting embarrassment at the thought of what just happened. I was a dangerous train wreck.
"Okay. I'll see you tomorrow I guess." Cartman replied while looking out his window.
I left without saying goodbye.
However, contented sediment had somehow settled in the pit of my stomach, fertilizing an unknown blossom that filled up the hollow cavities in my chest. It was a bit gnarled and broken - but I had something.
Who needed Stan anyway?
