Summary: Every kid has a tough time going through middle school, and it's no different for Stan, Kyle, Kenny, and Cartman. Mostly focused on Kenny, this fic follows the boys from their first day of seventh grade to the end of eighth grade (which, I hope, will result in the sequel, High School Sucks Ass).
Disclaimer: I don't own South Park! If I did, the show would suck so much, it wouldn't be funny at ALL! So let's all thank the lord for people like Trey Parker and Matt Stone before continuing, and then at the end of this chapter ask them to forgive me for my horrible attempt at a fic...
Note: Ok, so this is the second chapter, and this one's longer by a couple of pages. I like this one better, since it's not so much introductory crap, and there's more Kenny. He's snarky. Emz likes. :D Although I'm still not sure about the flow of things... I'm afraid it's a bit choppy. Maybe that's just me.

Chapter Two: Kenny's Talent

It was three weeks after the first day, and Kenny and Wendy were in art class. They were sculpting with clay, and Kenny was getting frustrated.

"God damn it! I'll never be able to do this right!" he said, exasperated. He slammed the clay down on the table, mutilating whatever it was he was trying to make, and Wendy and the other girl at the table looked up.

"It's not that hard, Kenny... all you have to do it move clay around," the girl piped up, showing Kenny her clay pony, which, Kenny noted, at least looked sort of like a pony. His eyes narrowed at the pony, as if it were its fault he sucked.

At that moment, Rosetta, the art teacher, walked over. "Kenny, your art is... new," she said, examining his pile of smashed clay.

"It's not art. It sucks ass. I hate art; I'm so bad at it!" Kenny whined, knowing perfectly well he looked like a hopeless case.

"Kenny, you're just trying too hard. Art isn't like math or science, you have to be free! Don't try, don't think, just feel!" she said, flinging her arms out.

Kenny ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "Umm... I guess..."

"WAIT! Inspiration!" Rosetta cried, and practically ran to the chalk board. "Class! I've just been inspired by a certain student!" she looked directly at Kenny, beaming. "Your homework for tonight is-"

"Thanks, McCormick! You got us homework," said a kid, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Kenny put his head on his desk, angry and frustrated.

"AS I WAS SAYING! Your homework for tonight is to draw a picture!"

"What's the catch?"

"That's it?"

"Yes. I want you to erase your mind, forget everything. Cleanse yourself of all thought, all anger, all depression, all happiness, all love, all hope, all desperation, all pain. Close your eyes, forget, open them, and draw. Just put a pencil on the paper and start making lines! Don't try, don't concentrate, don't think at all!" Rosetta recited dramatically.

The bell went off just then, and everyone got up to leave. Kenny walked up to Rosetta's desk as he was leaving. "Umm... I don't get what you said," he said, then added 'I don't comprehend over dramatization,' as an afterthought.

"It's really quite simple, Kenny."

"But, I can't do anything if I don't think about it. I need to have some idea of what I'm supposed to be doing." 'Otherwise it'd be something like a multiple personality disorder.'

"Stop right there, Kenny. Don't do that. Don't worry, Kenny, you can do it. You'll be surprised to realize how easy it is. Now go to class," she told him. Kenny still didn't understand, but he left anyway.

Later, at Stan's house, Kenny was explaining his art homework. "And she gave us homework to draw a picture. But she told us not to think about it."

There was a moment of silence. "...How can you not think about homework?" Kyle asked, raising an eyebrow.

"That's fucking sweet! If you're not supposed to think about it, you can't fail! Just draw a smiley face or something and turn it in! It's fucking sweet!" Cartman said excitedly.

"Shut up, fat ass, you don't know what you're talking about," Kyle said angrily.

"He actually does make sense, dude. Why would she give homework you're not supposed to think about? It's a given A," said Stan. Kenny simply shrugged in response.

"Well... I do believe level one math is going quite well for me. Right now we're reviewing long division," Cartman said, bringing the conversation to the subject of himself.

Kyle and Stan stared blankly at Cartman for a moment before laughing hysterically. "LONG DIVISION?? That's fucking stupid! Even for you!" Kyle said in between bouts of laughter.

"Dude, we're starting percentages and you're doing long division!" Stan managed to get out before going back to laughing.

Kenny felt himself going red. "Well, I'm sorry if we're not as sharp in math as you! Stan, I could just as well laugh at you because you're doing grammar in English and I'm doing actual writing!" Kenny said heatedly.

"Yeah!" Cartman said.

"I'm sorry, Kenny," Stan said, looking put down about the English comment. "That insult was more aimed at Cartman. And Cartman, I'm either in the same level as you or higher, so you should just shut your fat, three-chinned mouth!"

"Ay!"

"Yeah, Kenny, we're sorry. Don't get bitchy about it," Kyle said.

"Yeah, well, I'm going to go... need to get started on my homework. Bye, you guys," Kenny said, opening the door to leave.

After he left, the other boys looked at each other. "What's up his ass?" Cartman asked.

"I don't know," Kyle said. "Who cares? I don't give a shit about the kid."

"Yeah, let's get a snack," Cartman said, and they went to the kitchen.

Kenny was in his room, laying on his beat up mattress and staring at the wall. He had a drawing pad and pencil in front of him, and he was flipping through the pages looking despondently at failed drawing after failed drawing. He had put off his art homework, but now that everything else was finished he had to tackle it.

'I suck so much at this... every time I try to draw, or paint, or anything... I fail miserably,' Kenny thought to himself. 'If anyone saw this book they'd laugh their ass off, especially the guys. There're places where I even wore through the paper erasing this shit!'

He sighed and turned to a blank page. "Well, better start forgetting," he said, laughing a little.

He breathed deeply, closing his eyes. He tried to forget about his family and friends. He pushed his childhood memories to the back of his mind. He tried not to think about his mom beating him around and his dad yelling, or Kevin smoking pot at night and not caring that Kenny shared the room and didn't want to smell it. The way the smell of whisky lingered in their house, and the frozen waffle breakfasts. He tried to forget about the way Stan and Kyle didn't seem to care about him, and how he didn't think anyone would care if he died for good.

He closed his eyes tighter, trying to push the surfacing anger away. He couldn't take it; all he could think about were the worst aspects of his life.

"Damn art teacher. If it weren't for her stupid lame ass homework assignment, I'd be hanging with the guys having fun, not sitting here hating my own existence," he said angrily, about to throw the book across the book. "But... I suppose I have to do this. If all else fails, I can just draw a smiley face and pass it in."

He sighed, trying to tap the 'creative force within' and put the pencil to the paper. He tried not to concentrate on what he was doing, and saw lines and shapes unfold and come together. He never once thought, through the whole drawing process, what he would do next or what it might look like. He was interrupted, however, by a knock on the door.

"What?" he said, startled out of his daze.

"You're not in bed yet, get in bed! You have school tomorrow!" his mom said before slamming the door behind her.

Kenny knew better than to ask about dinner, because he already knew that they didn't have enough food stamps left to eat dinner that night. He also knew better than to ask about his brother, because he knew that he was down at Stark's Pond smoking with his pot buddies.

He looked down at his drawing, and was completely surprised to see a legitimate sketch looking back at him. The sketch was of two boys that were obviously fighting. One had the other shoved against a wall, and the smaller boy was struggling against the bigger boy's grip with tears streaming down his face. The bigger boy looked like he was really pissed, and was holding his arm like he was about to hit the other boy.

Kenny couldn't believe he drew that. Most of his drawings weren't all that good or realistic, looking more like distorted cartoons. This one was different. It was just a sketch, but it was better than the rest of his drawings. 'I guess not thinking about it does work...' he thought.

The next day on the bus, Wendy sat next to Kenny looking excited.

"Hey, Kenny, did you do Rosetta's homework last night?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"I did too! Only my picture didn't come out very good," she said holding up a drawing that was obviously of her and Stan having mad sex. She was right, it wasn't very good, but it was still extremely obvious.

Kenny laughed a little. "Have you shown that to Stan?"

"Show me what, Wendy?" Stan said, turning around in his seat to face them.

"Nothing!" the girl said shrilly, shoving the drawing in her bag.

Stan frowned, perturbed that Wendy would show Kenny something but not him. But he chose to forget about it and turned back around to talk to Kyle.

"Can I see your picture?" Wendy asked Kenny.

Kenny nodded, and moved to get it out of his bag, but changed his mind. "Actually, I'd rather show you in class."

"Dude, I'm worried about me and Wendy," Stan told Kyle when they were in their first period Math class.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, we only have this class and P.E. together, and we don't sit near each other in this class," he said, looking across the room at Wendy. "And Kenny's in our P.E. class, as well as her art class... and she's been talking to him a lot lately, and she showed him something on the bus today that she wouldn't show me..."

Kyle looked at him for a few seconds, before grasping the idea. "Wait, wait, wait... you think Wendy likes Kenny? No way, dude!"

"I don't know. I didn't want to worry about it on the bus, but I've been thinking about it, and I'm just worried."

"Dude, I don't know if you've noticed, but Wendy's totally in love with you! She'd rather die than not go out with you. Sure as Hell she wouldn't go for Kenny. I mean, she's smart and loves animals and the environment and all that shit..." Kyle said. "And Kenny's... well, Kenny's Kenny," he finished lamely.

"Yeah, but what if Kenny's what she's looking for in a guy?"

At lunch, Stan was getting more paranoid every time Wendy spoke to Kenny.

"Kenny, I can't wait to see your picture! It must be something if you keep hiding it!" Wendy said, practically begging Kenny to show her his drawing. He nodded slowly, looking at his tray; he didn't know why he was so embarrassed about showing it to anyone.

"Yeah, either that or it must really suck ass! I want to see it," Cartman said, reaching for Kenny's bag.

"No!" Kenny cried, grabbing his back pack and putting it next to him, out of Cartman's reach.

"You've seen me draw, you poor piece of crap, you know I suck! It can't be worse than my drawings."

"It's not that..."

"Cartman, if he doesn't want to show you, he doesn't have to!" Wendy said angrily.

"So, how about this food, Wendy?" Stan asked, his voice obnoxiously loud and strained.

"What?"

Kyle slapped his forehead. "Idiot..."

After lunch, Kenny and Wendy head to their art class. When they got there, they gave their drawings to Rosetta and sat down. The class chatted idly as Rosetta looked through the pile of papers. Most of them she frowned at, and Kenny suspected a lot of the kids took the Cartman route and drew crap pictures.

"Wendy," she said suddenly, and Wendy looked up. "Your picture... it's romantic."

"Umm... thanks," Wendy said, blushing madly.

"That's why you don't draw sex and pass it in," Kenny muttered.

"KENNY MCCORMICK!" Rosetta cried, causing Kenny to jump.

"What?!"

"Why, Kenny, this is one of the most beautiful sketches I've seen in a long time!" she said, beaming at him. "The pain! The fear! The agony! Truly wonderful!"

'Why does she have to dramatize everything?' Kenny thought, noticing people starting to stare at him.

"Everyone examine this piece, you could really learn from Kenny," Rosetta said, handing his drawing out for the students to pass around.

Kenny buried his face in his arms, completely embarrassed. 'Oh my God, no...'

Wendy let out a small yelp of excitement when she got the picture. "Wow, Kenny! This is awesome! You know, the boy in the picture looks kind of like you, only a little older, I guess."

Kenny hadn't even noticed that.

"Who's the other boy?'

"I don't know. It's just what I drew, remember? We weren't supposed to think about it," Kenny said. Using the assignment as a way to get out of explaining things worked effectively, which was good because he couldn't explain it.

"Yeah," she said, passing the picture along. "You're a really good artist, Kenny. You should do that more often."

"I don't know, it was kind of a pain," Kenny said, trying not to take the compliment badly like he usually did. "It was a really weird feeling... not thinking."

"Yeah," Wendy said wistfully. Kenny looked away, but then looked back at her. Why was she looking at him like that? That was... no, it couldn't be... the way she looked at Stan.

"Last class of the day! Finally!" Stan said when they were in P.E.

"Yeah."

"New Terrence and Phillip on tonight."

"Yeah, can't wait," Kenny said. Should he tell Stan about Wendy?

Just then, Wendy came over from the girls' side of the gym. "Hi Kenny! Hi Stan!"

Stan's eyes narrowed. She said hi to Kenny first.

"OK BOYS AND GIRLS! START RUNNING! TWO MINUTES, STARTING... NOW!" the P.E. teacher shrieked, blowing his whistle.

They all started running around the gym, Stan sprinted ahead, and Kenny tried to catch up.

"Dude! Wait up, I don't want to run with Wendy," Kenny said as he caught up with his angry friend.

"Well, she wants to run with you."

"Stan," Kenny panted.

"Look, I can tell she likes you, so why don't you just go run with her? Make out why don't you?" Stan seethed, sprinting ahead again.

After class, Wendy approached Stan with a worried expression on her face.

"Stan, can I talk to you?"

"Sure," said Stan, happy that Wendy wanted to talk to him.

"Well... I don't know how to start. Well... we only have two classes together... one really, since we don't sit near each other in math," she started nervously.

"Do you want me to request that we have more classes together?"

"No... that wouldn't fix how much we've drifted apart."

Stan stared at her. They'd been at this school not even a month yet and they'd drifted apart?

"Stan, I'm sorry, but I can't be in a long-distance relationship like this," she said dramatically.

"But it's not long distance," Stan said, his sarcastic nature getting the better of him.

"It feels like it is. Well, I just think it would be easier if we broke up."

"WEAK! This is because of Kenny, isn't it!?"

"What do you mean?" Wendy said, obviously pretending to look confused.

"I can't believe you'd break up with me, and at the same time lie!" Stan yelled angrily. "And all because you fucking like that poor white-trash lame ass fag! I fucking can't believe you'd like him instead of me!!"

"Stan, you're being unreasonable."

"I'M BEING UNREASONABLE?"

"You don't understand!" Wendy cried, her eyes shining with tears. "I feel this connection with him that I don't feel with you."

"What? What is it about him that's so great?" Stan spat.

"He's nice, which at the moment, I can't say about you. He's smart, he's artistic, and there's something about him that makes him deep! Stan, I feel like I can have an actual conversation with him!"

"Well, somebody doesn't know Kenny McCormick very well," Stan scoffed. "Let me set the facts straight for you: any interest he's showing in you is all an act to get you in bed with him."

"Don't say that!"

"Wendy, I can't believe you'd want to become a whore."

"I never said I wanted to become a whore."

"Being Kenny's girlfriend and a whore is the same god damned thing."

"I really hate you right now, Stan," Wendy sobbed.

Stan didn't answer, and when she ran away he just glared at her retreating back. Kyle ran up to him, looking strained.

"DUDE! What was that about?"

"Stupid whore... she dumped me to go out with fucking Kenny!" Stan fumed.

Kyle stared at him for a moment, and then averted his gaze. "Oh."

"I hate him. I wish he'd die. Kill himself or some lame shit like that."

"Dude, don't say that."

They walked toward the buses as Cartman ran up to them looking overly excited about something.

"You guys, you guys... this is so cool. You know French class? Well, they have French dictionaries, see? Ok... well I don't know why, but I was compelled by some evil force inside me... to look up 'fuck'," he said, laughing. "Now I can tell people to fuck off and shit, and they'll have no idea what I'm saying!" He wiped a non-existent tear away. "I love middle school."

Stan and Kyle just glared at him. After a minute, Cartman realized that he probably came in at the wrong time and took the opportunity to piss them off.

"What? Do you both have sand in your vaginas? If so-"

"SHUT UP, CARTMAN!" Kyle yelled. "This isn't the time, you fat fuck!"

Cartman blinked, and put on a look of concern. "Aww, what's wrong?"

Stan sighed and rubbed his temples. "Long story short, Wendy dumped me to go out with Kenny."

There was a moment of silence, which was broken by Cartman laughing hysterically. "Wendy?? Your Wendy? Broke up with you? HA! You've got to be kidding; she said when you got back together after that Token thing that she'd never dump you again. You've known me for like what... ever?? Have I ever fallen for something like that?"

"He's not kidding, Cartman. You should've seen the fight they had."

"Stupid god damned whore," Stan muttered.

"Stan, cool off," Kyle told him.

"Whoa... I'm sorry. I mean, it's not a joke if Stan called Wendy a whore. That bites, man... Kenny? Jeez... she's an odd one for sure," Cartman said.

"Whatever," Stan muttered, and boarded their bus.

When they got off the bus, Kenny decided to ask what was up. "Umm... guys? You haven't spoken to me since last period. What's up?"

"Do you want to know what's wrong, Kenny?" Stan yelled, immediately rounding on the blonde. "I'll tell you what the fuck's up! You're what's up!"

"Stan..." Kyle said.

"Thanks to you, Wendy broke up with me because she thinks she's better off with you, you shit-faced ass hole!!" Stan screamed at Kenny.

Kenny was speechless. He didn't think Wendy would actually break up with Stan. "Wow... dude... I had no idea... I didn't think-"

"No, Kenny, you didn't. You never do. Screw you, Kenny, I'm going home," Stan said angrily, and turned on his heel and stalked off toward his house.

"AY! THAT'S MY LINE!" Cartman yelled after him. "Sort of."

Kyle looked warily at Kenny, then at Stan's retreating back. "Sorry, Kenny," he said, and ran off after his best friend. "Dude! Wait up!"

Kenny watched Stan slow down and Kyle catch up to him, wondering what he did wrong. It was all Wendy's fault wasn't it? He didn't do anything.

"What if she asks me out?" He asked to no one in particular, despite that fact that Cartman was still there.

"Well, you could always be a pussy good boy and tell her you'd never let her come between your friendship with Stan, which would cause me to call you a gay faggot cock sucker for the rest of your life," Cartman said, grinning. "Or you could be the classic rebel poor kid, and go out with her. Stan would probably beat the shit out of you, but hey, apparently he's absorbed Kyle's anger issues, so it wouldn't surprise me if he killed you."

Kenny just stared at him, wondering which option was better. He didn't think he liked Wendy like that, but he hated being mean, and rejection was really mean. Cartman just nodded and walked off, and Kenny suspected that half the reason he wanted Kenny to go for it was to see Stan twitch.

"Weak," Kenny said weakly, and headed home.

Author's Note: So, tell me, oh kind readers... Was it choppy? Does it seem kind of weird? I'm still unsure how good I am at rewriting scripts into prose. ; Anyway, I accept criticism as long as it's constructive. So please make it constructive, and not an all out flame fest! R/R!