I'm going to get to write about the homecoming dance soon. I'm so excited. You have no idea.
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I'm really frustrated. Firstly because I keep coughing and I can't find my inhaler, and that kind of bothers me. And also because of what happened this afternoon.
Kyle and I were at Stark's. We weren't doing anything special, you know, just sitting on a bench and making sure his brother didn't hurt himself skating. Since Kyle's mom is super protective of Ike. Even though he's, like, eleven and hardly needs supervision.
It really bums me out that it's so cold in South Park. I know, you've probably heard this a million times. It's ridiculous how often people complain about it. But it's true. It was like, thirty degrees today and it's only September. I don't like having to wear such a heavy coat this early in the fall.
But it's kind of convenient how Kyle always forgets his gloves, and he relies on my hands to warm his up. And I was doing just that, and we were laughing about something ludicrous Cartman did, and then a terrible thing happened.
Fucking Wendy decided to text Kyle.
So, of course, he had to pull his hands away from mine to look at his phone. Because, I swear, he is obsessive compulsive and hates leaving texts unanswered.
"Hey, um. Do you mind walking Ike home?" Kyle asked. He looked really guilty.
"I guess not," I shrugged. "Why?"
"Wendy needs me to help her pick out a dress," Kyle mumbled, his voice lowering an octave like it always does when he's upset.
"Don't girls usually go with other girls for that kind of thing?" I asked.
"I can't go through with this," Kyle merely stated, avoiding my question. Fucking Wendy isn't like normal girls, I suppose. Because she is fucking WENDY.
"You won't have to," I promised, and brushed my lips against his. "Come on, the faster you go, the faster it's over."
Kyle looked so angry, and he did that thing where he just looks at the sky and furrows his eyebrows. Then he sighed, like, really audibly and was on his way. It shouldn't have been as bad as he was making it out to be, especially because he and fucking Wendy spent so much time studying anyway.
Right, so. Then I called Ike to take him home. You know, he's a pretty cool kid. Kind of a loner, but that's to be expected. Since he's like, Canadian or whatever. He's a real smart kid, too. And not smart in an awkward way like some child prodigies are, just in a perceptive way, you know?
Like, we stopped to get lunch before going to his place, since I was afraid I'd start coughing again if we walked too far at once. And because Kyle's mom would have been suspicious if we'd have come back so soon. There was a 50s-style café sort of place on the way, and it looked fast enough. So there I found myself, sitting at a table with my boyfriend's little brother. It wasn't as awkward as you might expect.
After we got our food, Ike was like, "Does your mom know you're going out with Kyle?"
I totally wasn't expecting that. Since Ike is in like, middle school (being the genius that he is, he skipped two grades) and I didn't really think that the news had spread so fast. I mean, I know Kyle couldn't have told him…
"Don't worry; I didn't spill to my folks." Ike continued, probably after seeing my (what I'm guessing was a) surprised expression. "But if you're trying to be inconspicuous, don't make out with him in front of his little brother." And then he just shot me this grin.
"Um. No. So far it's just a few kids at school." I explained.
"Or the ones that care enough to notice. After Craig, nobody really cares who's gay anymore. I wouldn't be too worried about telling your parents."
"I don't think it would bother my mom. But my dad's very, um. Traditional."
Ike leaned back, sipped his milkshake. Just all casual like. "Well, he'll be just as pissed if he finds out you're hiding shit from him. I get that he probably won't approve – fuck, my mother's going to fucking RAGE when…if, Kyle tells her – but it's better than just sneaking around."
"It isn't that much of a problem, though." I explained. "Kyle and I have been doing things alone together since pre-K. You know? Like, my parents don't even blink when I tell them I'm seeing a movie with Kyle, or whatever."
"Yeah, but what if someone catches you kissing or whatever and decides to let your parents know? Dude, Stan, shit, what if they let my parents know?" He took a bite of his burger, chewing contemplatively. "They'd move us right back to San Francisco. That would be a disaster."
"Yeah," I replied. Because I really didn't know what else to say.
"Well, wait until after homecoming." Ike suggested. "It's supposed to be really embarrassing when your parents take pictures of you and your date, right?"
"I'm not going with Kyle," I told him.
"Oh," Ike just like, brushed it off. "Yeah, I don't blame you. Dances suck. God knows Kyle can't dance for shit, anyway. You guys catching a movie instead, or what?"
"No, it's… um." I stammered. I really didn't feel like explaining the fucking Wendy situation. "It's complicated."
Ike seemed content with my elucidation; he didn't pry.
I respect that.
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Again, not much was resolved. I suck at resolving things and making legitimate endings. But real blogs aren't always with some epic plot development in each post, so whatever, suck my dick.
More drama llama coming up in the next part. You will be surprised. Or not, if you pay attention to my epic foreshadowing. Holla.
REVIEW AND THE PLOT WILL THICKEN AS QUICKLY AS I CAN MAKE IT. PLEASE? I am greedy, like a covetous Jew. :D
