Well, I said I wasn't moving from my seat until I had another chapter... but I got mildly distracted. Mildly. So... Here is Chapter 11 (10, actually.)! Entitled "Coming Clean"... and not just because that's the song (by Green Day) that just started playing.
Eric Cartman was a very determined young man, and he was NOT good with waiting…. But he had absolutely NO idea what to do about Red. He had learned a couple of years ago that if you pushed her too hard, she was just as likely to kick your ass as Kenny.
Which is why he almost choked on his mini cream cake when his phone buzzed with a message from her.
Tweak Bros. Coffee. 20 mins.
Cartman felt like he could puke his heart up as he ran out of the house and hopped on his bike.
Today was his day.
Red drummed her fingers against her 6th cup of Tweak's Best as she waited for Eric.
She had debated over contacting him all week, but had only managed to convince herself in the last few minutes. Every day she thought about the video he had shown her, and every day it ate at her.
Of course she had heard the rumours about Kenny's inability to keep it in his pants long enough to finish a conversation – hell, she had witnessed his sex drive at work – but she had always thought he was a decent guy. He treated her right, never forced her to do anything she wasn't willing to do. And he just seemed so loyal. It was definitely a shock to her system when she saw the slideshow of Kenny and Kyle's dirty little secret. She couldn't believe that Kyle of all people was the other guilty party. He had a girlfriend! Okay… they had been fighting and Bebe was bumping uglies with Clyde… but that is so totally besides the point! Her thoughts weighing heavily on her mind, Red brought her coffee up to her lips and took a dainty gulp. She was so not looking forwards to this.
Then the bell over the door just HAS to ding.
She didn't even have to look up to see who it is.
Eric slid into the seat across from her and simply stared, his favourite blue and yellow slouchy hanging off the back of his head. He was silent – for the most part. His breath was slightly ragged from his hasty bike ride.
"Thanks…" Red muttered, still not looking up from her steadily-cooling drink.
Eric shrugged and leaned back in his chair, attempting to feign nonchalance. "I just…. Y'know. Wanted to help. Kenny really shouldn't be… be messing around with you." He looked everywhere he could but at the petite redhead in front of him.
"I know," she finally sighed, looking up at him. "It's just hard to hear… see. Acknowledge. I thought Ken was different than all those other assholes." A small sniffle escaped as she tried to quell the tears.
"Heh-hey now…" Eric bit his lip and looked around the near-empty coffee shop. The only other people were Tweek and Craig, the former sitting on the counter while the latter relayed some apparently funny story in his flat monotone as the blonde let out stuttering laughter occasionally. "I don't want to see you cry, Red." He finally mumbled, looking down. "That's the whole point of…" his hand twirled about as he attempted to think of something. "This. All of this."
Startled, Red sniffed once more before the tears stopped. "What?" she asked, halfway between incredulous and terrified. Was she hearing things? Or did Eric Cartman really say that?
"I said I showed you this to stop you from getting hurt." He spaced each word out carefully, thinking each through before he chose it.
There was a long silence from Red, and Eric had to glance at her occasionally to make sure she was still sitting across from him. She was staring down at the room-temperature mug of caffeine. Her expression was hard to read, and the chestnut-eyed teen could tell she was worrying the inside of her cheek with her molars. Slowly, she looked back up at him, her eyes still showing a thin film of tears, but her expression one of stony resolution. "I'm going to break it off with Kenny." She whispered, reaching out one hand to gently rest it on top of Eric's. "And when I do, I'm going to march right back here," she gently patted the back of his hand, a timid smile beginning to show. "To you. And I'm going to pour my heart out. I'm going to cry, scream, and eat all of your cheesy poofs, fudgy tots, and ice cream sandwiches." Finally the grin dissolved into laughter, and Eric is dragged along with it.
I did it… he thought as he laughed along with his crush, her hand still on his. I really fucking did it.
Kyle sat on his bed, his lap top resting on his thighs, attempting to think of something to write. He had taken to writing a sort of journal since this whole Kenny fiasco started, hoping it would help to ease his mind.
It didn't.
He drummed his fingers against the keys, producing random sequences of numbers and letters, before realizing it was utterly useless. He frowned deeply at the blank document.
Then a terribly wonderful idea struck him.
He should come out.
After clearing the jumble of useless characters, Kyle began to type furiously.
I'm gay.
I'm gayer than gay.
I had thought I was straight for the longest time… and now that I look back, I realize that I was NOT happy. I was not happy at all.
With Bebe, all we did was argue. We snapped at each other, and she ran around behind my back. And… come to think of it… Bebe is the only girl I've ever been involved with.
She's blonde.
She has blue eyes.
And she is a total slut (I'm sorry, Bebe. But it's true.)
So I never really loved her anyways.
I loved the other blonde haired blue-eyed tramp.
Yes, his hair is darker. More sandy-straw-golden-sunrays-of-Moses. But it's still blonde.
Of course his eyes are bluer. More peacock-blue-with-cerulean-and-navy-specks.
But they're still blue.
And… well… we know he's a tramp. He has a girlfriend yet he chose to… what did he choose to do? It sounds less romantic if I say "he chose to bend me over in my living room and rail me when my parents and brother were out". So I'll just say he chose… me. Right? Oi vey. … y'know, I've never actually said that and it sounds so very stereotypical. And I am not a stereotype. … Even if I do act… queerer than a clockwork orange. That movie… is the strangest thing.
Focus, Kyle. Focus.
Mom and Dad don't know I'm gay.
I should tell them.
…. Ike first.
Carefully, he closed his laptop and let out a shaky breath; he was about to do the most potentially life-changing thing he had ever done.
He knocked on his little brother's door, and waited for the quiet "come in" before entering.
Ike sat much the way Kyle had been sitting moments ago. In place of a laptop, he held a pencil and a sketchbook. Can EVERYONE draw but me? The redhead silently asked, fighting the urge to frown. "Mind if I sit down…?" the older boy quirked an eyebrow as he watched his brother.
Ike simply nodded, his brows furrowed together as he furiously scratched away at the paper.
Kyle carefully lowered himself onto the bed beside his brother. He chose his words carefully and chewed his bottom lip as he did so. "Ike…" he began, wondering if he was doing the right thing, "have you ever heard of… or wondered about… two people of the same gender… loving each other as much as mom and dad do…?" he ran his hands through his hair, grumbling as his finger caught a curl.
This had the young Canadian curious. He set his art supplies down and shifted to face his brother. "Of course I've heard about people like that, Kyle. Homosexuals. Like Mr. Garrison and Mr. Slave. Big Gay Al. Stan's dog, Sparky. Craig and Tweek." He tilted his head slightly to one side, his wispy black hair shifting. "Why?"
Kyle chewed his lip even harder, and his mouth suddenly filled with the coppery tang of blood. Wincing, he resolved to take up a new nervous habit. "Well… what do you think about it? Do you find it… unnatural?" Sometimes Kyle forgot how much of an intellectual his younger sibling was, and how much he really knew.
"Unnatural?" Ike echoed, looking more thoughtful than any 11 year old has any right to look. "Well, look at it this way. We see the way the lion bites the zebra's neck as unnatural, right?" Kyle nodded slowly, remembering how the girls screamed when they watched the nature documentary in class. "But to the lion, and perhaps even the zebra, it's perfectly acceptable." Another slow nod. "Then, really, who is anyone to say what's natural or unnatural about another?"
A small smile settled onto the redhead's face as he looked down at his brother. "I never thought about it that way, Ike." He admitted, scratching his head. "So it doesn't bug you? Gay people, I mean."
"Not in the slightest. In fact, I think Tweek and Craig… well… maybe not Craig… but Tweek is the nicest person I know! Well… not the nicest… but you know what I mean." He frowned, looking mildly confused. "What's with the sudden quizathon?"
"Made up words are stupid and you know it."
"Avoiding the question."
"True." Kyle conceded, scratching his head yet again as he attempted to avoid chewing his lip. "It's just that… well…" Just say it! A small voice (which sounded worryingly similar to Kenny) snapped from the back of his mind. One deep breath later, Kyle spewed "I'mgayandIthinkI'minlovewithKenny."
Ike's frown deepened and he stared intently at his brother. "Say that again, Kyle? Slower."
Another deep breath. "I'm gay. And I think… I may have feelings for Kenny."
"That's not what you said."
"Yes. It is."
"No. I distinctly heard 'and I think I'm in love with Kenny'."
"So you heard me?" Irritation began to inch its way into Kyle's voice.
"Obviously," Ike responded, levelheaded. "But I don't know if you heard you."
"What?" Confusion swiftly replaced the irritation.
"Just think about it." Ike picked his artwork back up, signaling the end of the conversation,. Kyle got up and wandered out of the room in a bit of a daze. Unaware of where his feet were leading him, he simply went with them.
Big mistake.
"It's just a phase, Kyle!" A piercing female voice shrieked as the redhead hurriedly stuff clothes into a backpack. "Come back here and apologize for lying, Kyle!"
"I'm not lying!" he spat back, throwing the back over his shoulder. "You're eleven-year-old son accepted it, so why can't you?" He ran down the stairs, taking several at once, and made a mad dash to the front door.
"He's just a boy, Kyle." Gerald, ever the soft-spoken one, commented from the kitchen doorway. "They're young and impressionable, you know."
"Who are you to talk?" The redhead screamed at him, pent-up anger finally pouring out. "I know about that one time with you and Mr. Marsh. Don't even try to tell me it's wrong." Before the tears stinging his eyes fell, he was out the door.
The speakers boomed with music, everyone dancing to the mesmerizing beats.
"I'm gonna chase this whiskey with Patron
I wanna girl on my lap with a Jagerbomb
I'm comin' in hot, ya heard me
And I'mma make it rain on the girl who serves me
I drink a fifth of vodka 'til it's gone
And if it feels so good then it can't be wrong
I'm comin' in hot, ya heard me
We be takin' shots, and if not, you nerdy"
Kenny sang softly along with the chorus from his position on the hood of one of the old junkers parked in a wide circled around a large fire. He was out of range of the heat, but he could see it, and all of the bumping, grinding, and swaying bodies dotted around it. He brought the bottle of Pabst up to his lips and took another swig as he watched everyone dancing. His brother, Kevin, had dragged him to the party, but had disappeared with a back of weed and a bunch of friends once they arrived. So now the blonde sat, alone, drinking, on the hood of a stranger's rust-coated shitmachine. He sighed and took yet another swig.
"Someone like you shouldn't be all alone in a place like this…" a husky female voice drawled from Kenny's right, earning an unamused eyebrow quirk and slight head tilt.
"Really?" he drawled back, mildly shocked by how drunk he sounded. "Neither should you. There's a lot of bad people out there." He made a grand motion towards the improvised dance floor.
"Oh, I think I'm safe with you…" slender hands wormed their way across Kenny's bare arms, heading towards the zipper of his vest.
"And how do you know I'm not one of the bad guys?" he asked, entirely indifferent to her advances. "Maybe I've just been sitting here waiting for someone like you." He held up the bear bottle in his hand, pointing the neck of it at here before taking a hearty gulp. "Some poor girl who wanders far enough away from the rest…" he looked at her, fighting the urge to smirk as she took a few stumbling steps back before speed-walking away. Blue eyes watched her walk for a while, before turning back to the mesmerizing flames. He felt a connection to them. A kinship with the fire. No matter how many times people snuffed out the orange, red, and yellow swirls, they were able to come back again. And again. And again. Lifting the bottle once more to his lips, he frowned. Empty. Damnit. Looking around, and seeing no one close enough to ask for another, he resigns himself to a beerless period. Leaning back against the windshield, he stared up at the sky.
"You turned that girl down," a nasally monotone commented from the front of the car. Kenny looked between his bent knees at the owner of the voice, only partially surprise to see Craig. He held out another bottle of Pabst, which Kenny sat up and grabbed, popping the top against the hood of the car.
"Thanks." He took a thoughtful sip of the beer and shifted over, allowing the other boy to pull himself on to the car as well. "And I di'in't turn her down. I insi… insin… inshen… suggested that I might be a rapist…" He let out a deep chuckle, one that didn't end in a cough. He only ended his laughs with coughs when Kyle was around, simply to hear the redhead warn him about "smokers' lung". It was nice to have someone care.
"Nice. But don't those sorts of girls normally make you-" Kenny held up the bottle, signaling Craig to stop.
"We both know you're going to say 'so happy', so let me tell you now that yes. Normally they do. Normally." Another swig.
"And this time is different because…?" Craig watched the crowd with the same detached indifference Kenny had been.
The blonde shrugged then, remembering his friend wasn't looking at him, offered, "I have stuff on my mind."
"Other than sex?"
"Sort of."
"Girl troubles?"
"Sort of."
"Kyle troubles?"
"Sort o- hey wait." Kenny, his attention sufficiently grabbed, stared at the teen in the blue hat. "Now why would you assume that?"
Craig shrugged and took another sip of his own beer. "Just because I don't talk, doesn't mean I don't listen." Then the rarest of all images played itself out. Craig Tucker smiled. … Well, it was more of a grimace/smirk hybrid, but the point still stands.
"You're an asshole." Kenny griped half-heartedly, downing the rest of the beer.
"And you need to sort out your priorities." Craig slid off the care and slouched away into the darkness before Kenny had time to respond.
Kenny frowned at the dark-haired boy's retreating form, mulling his words over in his mind.
"Why does everyone have to be so damn cryptic?" he mumbled aloud. This emotion shit sucks ass…
What-ho? Has the shitstorm just hit the small town of South Park? Why yes. Yes it did.
Random Reviewer: Migawd, K! Did Kyle just come out to his parents?
Me: Yes he did, fine young reviewer!
RR: And does Red really mean it when she says she's going to come back to Cartman?
Me: You'll have to red the next chapter for that!
RR: Does Craig know something he's not telling us?
Me: Doesn't he always?
ANYHIZZLE. IT'S ALMOST 3 AM (2:51 AS OF THE TYPING OF THAT LAST LITTLE BIT, OH! 2:52) AND I AM SERIOUSLY TIRED :D BUT I LOVE Y'ALL.
Consider this a shout out to Tyler-Song. ... I think I typed that right. Whatevs. :3 Night (sweet cripes 2:53) readers.