Thank you all so much for reading this story, and especially those who took out the time to review! I'm very grateful. Sorry if this chapter is somewhat shorter than the previous two chapters, but it is really late at night/morning right now, and I haven't really proofread. Forgive me if there are any errors.

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Chapter 3

Sharp blasts of icy wind receded as Kyle pulled his windows shut securely. He plopped down on his bed and directed his gaze absently at the ceiling. A sudden buzzing noise induced an aggravated groan from Kyle as he rolled over and fished out his cell phone.

"Hello?"

"Hey dude, I'm just calling to see whether if you've started the outline for the essay yet. I'm trying to come up with more citations but…um I keep getting sidetracked."

Kyle suppressed a sigh. Stan never seemed to be able to maintain focus for a sufficient amount of time when it came to old school study methods.

"I wrote a rough outline in class, but I don't think I'll follow it once I start the essay. Have you checked up with Kenny's share of this thing?"

There were muffled shouts in the background, followed by a distinct thunk.

"Uh Stan?"

"Sorry about that, Shelley's being her usual bitchy self. I think she just threw her TV against my door."

"Weak dude. Did you call Kenny yet?"

More crashing noises echoed through the phone.

"Hello? Stan?"

"Ok, why don't you just come over now, and we'll work this now. And no, I haven't called Kenny yet."

So much for working as a group. Why does this always happen? Every time I go over to Stan's we always end up with our hands glued on game controllers. Then I end up pulling all-nighters with a shit load work that's triple the amount I'm supposed to do. I must be masochistic though, considering that despite it all, I've never refused his invitations.

"Alright, I'll be right over."

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Cartman shifted uncomfortably on his couch. His pants felt as though someone had coated the inside a generous layer of jelly. The unpleasant sensation made it feel as if the world's flipped had itself into some strange universe where unbearably sweaty summers masqueraded as winters. Cartman looked at the clock sitting on the stand beside him and yawned. He had at last decided to the brave the sweltering conditions of his house as the night began to fall. The heater seemed to remain in the same repair mode for at least the past four months, thanks to the easily "distracted" repair man who was more interested in fine tuning his mom.

Commercials blared with an annoying consistency as Cartman lazily alternated between channels. Nothing worth watching was on since the hour was still relatively early, but this was barely acknowledged by Cartman. Although his mind by now had temporarily rejected what had so furiously plagued him hours before, the matter nibbled at his heart. The fact that he was sitting in an atmosphere that seemed to be slowly, but viciously melting his brain didn't help the situation much either. Forcing himself off the sticky couch groggily after shutting off the TV, Cartman made his way to the front door and was greeted by a surprisingly welcomed slap of fierce wind. He closed the door behind him and stood on his steps, allowing himself to be shrouded in a refreshing embrace of wind and snow.

The falling snow combined with the darkness seemed to play games on Cartman's eyes. The familiarity of the form outlined against the night caused Cartman to momentarily lose a sense of reality as a wave of past images identical to the one he seemed to be seeing swept through his mind. Without thinking, Cartman found his feet shuffling towards the form as it drew closer.

"K-Kahl?"

What came out sounded like an awkwardly loud blurt, and Cartman quickly feigned a scowl to obstruct further embarrassment.

Through the dim light spilling from the porch, Cartman could easily see the shock morph into absolute disgust on Kyle's face.

"Get out of the way fatass."

Kyle started to push his way past Cartman, but suddenly felt a yank on the back of his jacket.

"What the hell Cartman?! I don't have time to listen to any of your retarded shit."

Undaunted, Cartman found his voice and focused on the folded brim of Kyle's hat.

"Look Kahl, I know that you're probably wondering why I'm talking to you out of nowhere after a year and all, but I just want you to know that…weeeeelll I still see you as a friend. So, you know, maybe you and I can hang out sometime."

Kyle stared at Cartman incredulously, his eyes filling quickly with reawakened anger.

"Go to hell Cartman, what on earth makes you think that I would actually buy that? When have you ever considered me or any of the guys as actual friends?"

"Ay! I'm not talking about those other two assholes! I'm talking about you!"

"I don't believe a word of anything you say anymore. In fact, I've stopped believing for as long as I can even remember. I don't know what you have up your sleeve, but I'm not going to be tricked into being apart of it. It's been a year, but you are, and always will be the same fat bastard that everyone hates!"

Cartman stood unmoving in the snow, his eyes now on Kyle's shoes. After a moment's silence, he spoke with a sort of quiet determination.

"This isn't over Kahl. This isn't over. You'll see."

Looking up once more at the glowering frown reserved only for him, Cartman walked past Kyle towards the direction of Stark's Pond.

Cartman smiled slightly as he felt Kyle's furious piercing stare threatening to pierce his back. He slowed his steps purposely in hopes of prolonging the feeling of the other's fury ricocheting off him.

It's been too long. Cartman thought happily. I guess I really can't live life to its fullest without pissing off that dumb Jew.

Kyle watched as Cartman shrunk into just a wide blob. Snow that floated onto his face melted instantaneously as it came into contact with his burning skin that seeped with fury. Kyle uncurled his balled up fists and jammed them forcefully into his front pockets, and stomped through the snow to resume his trek to Stan's house.