A/N: Okay... this is short... and rushed. Crap. That's what happened when you go so long without writing. But I said on my dA journal that I was going to start up with my fanfictions again, and I was true to my word. Be so kind as to review? (: Butters' point of view.


chapter three

"Pip, I need to stop caring about him," I announced over the phone to my friend. I didn't even need to say who "he" was; Pip knew, and he was probably rolling his eyes.

"Yes, you do." Way to be blunt. "I'll come over so we can talk in person, okay?"

"Sounds good... thanks, Pip," I said with a grateful smile. Hopefully he could hear the gratefulness in my voice. We hung up without saying goodbye, because he'd be over here in a matter of minutes. I lounged out on the couch while waiting for him, and he came in through the front door without knocking.

"Hello, Butters," he greeted as he sat down on the bit of couch I hadn't taken up. I sat up so that he could be more comfortable.

"Hey Pip!" I greeted happily, wishing I could speak without that stutter to people like Eric. Wait... no... but I didn't care about him anymore. Well, I'll keep telling myself that. Maybe it'll come true.

"Right to business... we need to find someone else for you to obsess over," Pip said with a laugh. I glared at him, but didn't really mean it. "What do you see in him, anyways?" Pip asked in a more serious tone, and I pondered the same thing.

What did I see in him?

"Umm... he's funny —"

"—Racial jokes—"

"—Intelligent—"

"—Are we talking about the same person?—"

"—Good looking—"

"—Is fat back in?"

I stopped talking, and thought about what I had just said, and what Pip had countered with. He was right, wasn't he? I didn't have any real reasons for liking him. I just... did. I looked at Pip and he was frowning a tiny bit.

"He doesn't deserve you, Butters. He doesn't deserve anyone."

And the sad thing was... Pip was probably right.


I thought about what Pip had said on Friday night as Monday morning dawned. I ran a comb through my hair, and told myself that I wouldn't even look at Eric Cartman at school, unless he approached me and I had to make a run for it. I hummed to myself as I got ready for school, promising myself that it would be a good day.

First way of avoiding Eric: walk to school. So I left my house early, my parents not even noticing, and made my way through the cold to get there. I got there before the buses, so I made my way to my first class, and didn't see him once. Things were actually going fine. Maybe it would keep up?

I'd made it all the way to lunch without looking at Eric once. But come the middle of me eating a hamburger, he walked over to the table where me and Pip were sitting, chatting about nothing in particular.

"Hey there, Butters," Eric said innocently, and Pip stood up.

"Go away, Cartman," Pip snapped quickly, and Eric shoved Pip back down into his seat.

"Not talking to you, you French piece of crap," he said before turning to me. "Let's talk this afternoon when he's not around. Meet me after the final bell at Stark's Pond." Without waiting for a response, he turned and went back to his table.

"Don't," Pip advised quickly, and I found myself nodding.

But I knew where I was going to be come three o'clock.


I couldn't help myself. Curiosity was dangerous. As I left my class, I said bye to Pip with the false promise I wouldn't go to meet Eric, but the second I left the school, instead of turning to walk home, I went to walk to the frozen-over pond. Already there was Eric, and there was no sight of his friends anywhere near him. But I knew that couldn't be true.

"Where's K-Kenny?" I asked, continuing to look around.

"He's not here, I just wanted to talk to you by myself," Eric replied, but I knew better than to trust him. They were around here somewhere, I knew it.

"Whatever..." I said, pretending to believe him, "so what did you want to t-talk to me about?" At least the stuttering wasn't too bad yet.

"I wanted to tell you something."

"What would that be, Eric?" I asked coldly. Was he going to tell me that I should curl up in a hole and die, or simply once again call me a fag?

"I'm gay, Butters."

Excuse me? I know he didn't just say that.

"What?"

"I'm gay, Butters," Eric said, and he was... blushing? "And I've always really liked you. I never meant to be such an asshole to you."

Oh, what a load of crap. He was just waiting for me to say something nice in reply so that he could start laughing. But I wouldn't give him that satisfaction.

"Leave me alone, Eric."

With that, I turned and began to make my way home, unknowing that for once in his life Eric Cartman wasn't telling a lie.