Kyle's Jeans

By AllzStar

Author's Note: I'm back! I went to NYC for a vacation. It was WICKED. Literally. ;) Enjoy the chapter! It's really short, sorry.

Chapter Nine – You're So Hot

I twist the cap off my Coke bottle with my teeth and spit it out, sending it flying across the lawn and into the grass somewhere. Condensation runs over my fingers as I take the first swig of ice cold Cola, relishing in the delicious carbonated taste that I have missed so much in the past two months. Two months of working my ass off to lose ten pounds. Goal attained, I celebrate with a bottle of Coke. Not the best reward considering I'll probably gain a pound back afterwards, but I could really care less. I deserve it, goddamn it. I've worked hard. And I never work hard.

My lips part from the glass opening in a pleased "aah" sound, the steam from the bubbles evaporating quickly in the moist, warm air.

Summer, man. Gotta love it. Especially when it follows the last year of high school.

I'm free. I am a graduated man. No more lockers and textbooks for me. I am officially libre. And I feel spectacular.

Clyde's smirking at me across the picnic table, his fingers wrapped around a gigantic burger piled high with every topping you can imagine. "I bet that feels good," he says sarcastically, trying to get his mouth around the burger for the first bite.

"Orgasmic," I agree wistfully, savouring the familiar taste of Coca-Cola.

Kenny, barely grinning, flicks his own bottle cap at me. It hits me in the cheek. It doesn't hurt, but I still give him a look. He looks away and gets up, knocking the table with his knee as he goes and causing me to spill some of my Coke on my shirt. He doesn't look back to apologize as he lopes away towards the volleyball court, where a bunch of girls in bikinis are half-heartedly tossing a ball around while trying to look sexy with wet sand caked across their legs.

"Bastard," I mutter, stripping off my ruined t-shirt. Then I grin: I can take my shirt off and not worry about looking like a beached whale.

Clyde looks at me sympathetically. "He'll get over it sometime, you know."

I look at him pointedly. "It's been two months."

Clyde shrugs and digs into his burger.

June brought a lot of problems for Kenny and me. Since that incident two months ago when he pretty much came out to me, things haven't been the same between us. He still hangs out with me, sure, but now we're halfway through July and there's still this underlying tension and tooth-and-nail effort on my part to get him to lighten the fuck up. The Kenny McCormick I know is whimsical and doesn't linger on things longer than five seconds. He's never even heard of a grudge. This Kenny...well, I don't know who he is. And it scares me something awful, because I need the old Kenny to keep me sane.

Anyway, so here I am at Stark's Pond Park, where the sun is shining and the grass is actually green and the volleyball courts are open and loaded with sand dragged all the way from Oklahoma, and I feel miserable because my best friend is being a dick. Stark's Pond is even open for swimming, and there are hot, scantily clad girls everywhere dripping with water, but I'm still not happy. My entire class is here for a post-grad barbeque, and I should be socializing and savouring sweet freedom. But I'm not. I'm sitting at a picnic table with Clyde fucking Donovan, who knows absolutely nothing, feeling like crap.

I'm not gonna let Kenny get to me this way. If he wants to be a limp penis, that's fine. But I am going to have fun.

Someone turns on a stereo, and some noxious pop song starts blasting throughout the entire park. Immediately, kids everywhere start dancing. Now, I'm not gonna dance, but I am going to point and laugh at the people who are.

I make my way over to the refreshment picnic table, where the barbeque is steaming and the food and drinks are being served. A bunch of guys are clustered there, and I'm about to go join them when I realize it's Stan Marsh and his posse of football boners. He sees me before I can escape, and waves me over. The entire team turns to look at me.

Damn it.

I make my way over to Stan, even though I really, really don't want to. The only reason I do is because of the head of curly red hair that's standing next to him...

Kyle waves crazily as I saunter over, his freckled face breaking into the widest grin ever. He's practically jumping for joy. He bursts forth out of the cluster of football players and runs over to me. "Cartman!" he cries. There's something wrong with his eyes. They're all shiny. "I haven't seen you in ages! Isn't this great? We're graduated, man! We're done! Not more high school!"

"Yeah, I know," I say, smiling down at him in spite of myself. That kid can make me smile no matter what. "But you just saw me, like, two days ago. At the football game."

"Two days, an eternity, what's the difference?" Kyle asks, his eyes shining. He slings an arm around my broad shoulders, a little awkwardly since I'm about five inches taller, and steers me towards the volleyball court, where kids are trying to play and dance at the same time. "Wanna play some ball?"

"I suck at volleyball," I say, grimacing. My skin tingles where he's touching me. "I'm more of a rugby guy."

"Everyone here sucks at volleyball," Kyle points out, gesturing to Bebe Stevens as she attempts to serve the ball my drop-kicking it. "Come on, let's join in."

I can't refuse him, so I allow him to pull me onto the court.

I'll let you imagine how that game went.

A couple of hours later, as the sun is just beginning to set behind the massive Colorado mountains, Token Black rallies everyone together for the bonfire. Chairs are set up in a circle all around the mound of firewood and tinder, and everyone takes their seats. There are about fifty kids in our class, and only about thirty-eight of them showed up for the party, so we comfortably fit around the fire. Kids were sitting on the sand or just standing around with their Cokes if they didn't have a chair.

Kyle took a seat next to me, his red curls plastered to his forehead and neck and around his cheekbones after taking a dip in the pond. He grins at me before joining in the cheering as a couple of guys bend to light the fire.

I study him, wondering how, even after all the weird shit that's been happening, he's still willing to be my friend.

Whatever. I'm just fucking lucky to have him.