Eric lay on his back, stretched out across his bed. One arm was folded under his head, and his eyes were half closed. His chest rose and fell slowly with his deep breaths. He raised a hand finally, setting it on the back of his girlfriend's head.
She was curled on his side, nestled across her chest and belly. She had a book propped up on him and was silently reading.
Suddenly, he grunted. "Wendy you're vibrating." He complained through his sleepy haze, forcing his eyes to open a little more.
She sighed dejectedly as she leaned way over him, grabbing her cell from beside his head. She didn't bother moving off of him, choosing instead to flop down. "What? Craig?" She asked incredulously as she stared at the call display.
Eric's eyes darkened as he propped himself up, watching Wendy slide down his torso to land in his lap. "What the fuck does that cocksucker want?" He snapped. When Wendy shrugged, he sighed and shook his head. "Answer it."
"Don't tell me what to do." She retorted while flipping the purple phone open. "Craig? What do you want?"
"Wendy, I just wanted to talk to you."
Wendy's eyes narrowed and she shook her head. "Stan? Why do you have Craig's phone?"
"He let me borrow it. You weren't answering for me or Kyle." Stan explained. She could hear the smile in his voice. "It's good to hear from you Wendy."
"Stan." She started again. Eric's lips were curled into a snarl, a murderous look in his eyes. "Stan, stop calling me. There's nothing I want to talk to you about. I wasn't answering for a reason. And you see me every day at school."
"I know. But I can't talk to you then," He sounded perfectly conversational as he ignored her protests. "I wouldn't want your new friend to get pissed off at me. Wendy, what are you doing with him?" Stan's voice softened as he asked the question he'd been meaning to for months.
"Stan I'm going to say this one time, and one time only." She lowered her voice, sighing softly. "You and I lasted for a long time, but most things aren't forever. I don't love you anymore. I'm with Cartman now, not you. And you're harassing me. So stop, before he gets more blood thirsty than he already is."
"How the fuck can you say that Wendy?" Stan cried, indignant. She could imagine him standing, beer bottle knocking over. It would spill over onto the floor, and Craig would jump up, swearing and smacking at Kenny to get a towel. For a moment, she missed those times. Then she took a glance at the man whose lap she was laying in, and smiled. No, she had made the right decision.
"What do you mean?"
"You still call him by his last name Wendy. You've been dating him for weeks and you still call him Cartman!"
"What I call him isn't the point Stanley! You were his best friend for thirteen years, and you still call him Cartman! Stan please, just leave me alone!"
"Are you putting out for him Wendy?" Dear God, Stan was drunk. Call the press. What the hell was it with Marsh men and alcohol?
"Stan!" Wendy felt her cheeks flush. She pulled away from Cartman, yelping when he grabbed her around the waist, dragging her close. The phone was snatched out of her hand, and she groaned.
"Marsh, I don't give two fucking shits how long you and Wendy dated, or long you and I were friends for –"
"We're not friends?" Stan sounded hurt.
"But if you don't leave her the fuck alone, so help me Hitler I will break every last finger you have, then cut out your tongue. Leave her alone Stan." Eric's voice dropped to a dangerous, husky growl. "I'm not playing."
The was silence on the line for a moment, a sigh, then a click. Eric listened to the dial tone for a minute, before flipping the phone shut and tossing it over to his desk. He gave an aggravated huff, flopping down once more.
"I'm sorry." Wendy muttered, laying herself across his chest again. She smiled contentedly when his hand began to trail from her head to bum, stroking her like a cat. Generally, she would have gone on about how women weren't pets.
But, she had seen the way Eric treated his pets. Sure, he was rough with them, but they kept coming back.
*
Clyde watched Stan's angry face, as he stormed around the room, smashing things and swearing. Craig and Token were listening half heartedly, but Kyle looked downright distracted.
For a moment, seeing all of them together like that made a strange feeling curl in Clyde's tummy. They had all grown up hating each other. He could only barely remember how they had became friends in the first place. I think Kyle started it He muttered mentally, eyeing the redhead.
The first year of high school had been fucked up. They were going to classes with kids from out counties too. A nasty fight had broken out between Tweek and some other kid from North Park. After that, the enemies for life became friends. Originally for protection, it had quickly spun into pleasure. They all got along fairly well, and it was great having someone to call up no matter what you wanted to do.
Ah, Clyde loved his life. He leaned back as Stan trampled past him, still on the warpath. He was reaaally, really, reallyhung up about Wendy still.
He raised a hand, running it through his hair lightly, eyes downcast. When he lifted them from the floor, he noticed Kyle giving him a strange look.
"What dude?" He mouthed, eyebrow hitched. He watched as Kyle's eye twitched, the redhead flicking his eyes towards Kenny.
The poor blonde boy was smirking, leaning back into the cushions of the armchair. One leg was raised, the ankle crossed over the opposite knee. His hands were folded neatly in his lap, and with his bangs hanging into his face, casting his eyes in shadows, Clyde thought he looked like some sort of mob man, making a deal.
The look on Kenny's face told Clyde that he knew something. Knew something that no one else knew.
The smirk that fluttered onto Kenny's cracked, scabbed lips told Clyde that he'd have to find out what it was on his own.
Damn Kenny and his will to keep secrets.