Chapter 7: Kodak Moment.
There's a feeling you get when you know something's going to happen that you don't want to happen. You can sense it in the air somehow. The same way you develop that sort of sense about things is exactly what happens when you've been friends with Eric Cartman most of your life. You just know when he's about to do something to really piss you off. You know when you should avoid him. You know because you get Cartman radar.
Stan's was working overtime. He had been right when his gut told him it was going to be a "Cartman's going to fuck with you day". The feeling had struck him somewhere between his routine morning shower and the bowl of oatmeal he never ate. His best friend knew, too. The moment he approached the bus stop, Kyle had greeted him with, "I've got a bad feeling about school today, dude. Cartman was cool about the play all weekend. You know he's up to something."
That something actually hadn't been quite as bad as they expected, coming from someone like Cartman. The root of all evil for the day; Pictures.
Stan had always heard about people being embarrassed by photographs, but never appreciated the old saying that pictures were worth a thousand words. Cartman knew, unfortunately. He was quite the photographer. So much so that he was able to embarrass him and Kyle with snapshots of something that had happened in front of a hundred people.
There was always someone to blame, and Stan blamed Shakespeare.
The school day was almost over, but he couldn't breathe yet. It was lunch period, and Cartman was no where to be seen. That meant he was most likely off somewhere entertaining another audience with his pictures. The worst part about it was his amazing ability to make people question the innocence behind what was happening in the images.
Stan closed his eyes, trying to stay calm, focused. He let out a slow breath and carefully pried his eyelids open to take in the surrounding cafeteria. No one was ripping on them. Ironically, it made him even more paranoid. He watched everyone carefully, wondering if they were being talked about.
He swallowed dryly and looked across the table at Kenny. Careless, innocent, perverted Kenny, sitting there, eating his cafeteria goop without a second thought. He looked up, his lively eyes squinting into the shape of orange slices, a dead give away he was flashing a cheery smile, before drawing his attention back to his tray of food.
Stan's train of vision shifted to Kyle, who was sitting next to him, chin in palm, glaring down at his food and stabbing it angrily as if he could see Cartman's face in it. With an unintentional sigh, Stan looked away.
Kyle looked up at him, his anger suddenly gone. "Don't worry, dude. Nothing that bad has happened."
"Nothing but the fat ass showing everyone pictures of us kissing." He murmured it so quietly it could barely be heard over the commotion around them.
"I think it's hot."
"No one cares what you think, Kenny!" Stan hissed.
"Fuck you." He replied, casually slipping his offender the finger.
"No one believes the things he's saying," Kyle decided. "The only thing he's doing is proving to everyone what an asshole he is."
"This coming from someone who cussed himself into a one way ticket to detention." Stan opinionated.
Kyle waved it off. "Just because he's full of crap doesn't mean he doesn't piss me off. I couldn't just sit there and take it like you."
"I told him to cut the crap." Stan defended himself.
"Yeah, that's really going to stop him, Stan." Kyle voiced with coated sarcasm.
"And we all know that yelling out in the middle of class helps." Stan shot back.
"He was calling you a-"
"I know what he was calling me." Stan reminded him, his voice rising with his fury. "Who died and made you my goddamn protector anyway? I didn't ask you to jump in and save me, so quit acting like your mom and doing it anyway!"
Kyle's eyes reflected hurt as he pursed his lips and looked away.
"Man, that was harsh." Kenny supplied, even as Stan's anger faded away to regret.
"Aw, I'm sorry, Kyle." He placed a hand on his friends shoulder with a sigh. "Ever since Cartman started making those predictions, I-" His sentence broke off when Kyle decided to look at him. Stan paused, completely forgetting to breathe, not to mention what he had just been saying.
"You, what?" Kyle asked simply, sounding somewhere between demanding and curious.
"I-I just… weird…" He choked out in clipped words, mesmerized by the green of Kyle's eyes. Had they always been that prismatic? "I mean," He suddenly added, realizing his current situation. "It's just weird how everything Cartman predicts actually happens. And now with the stunt he's pulling today, I've been like a time bomb. I didn't mean to explode on you like that."
Kenny chuckled to himself, obviously amused in a way neither of the two really wanted to know about. They had learned long ago to not asked when he laughed to himself. It was usually something sick.
"It's okay," Kyle assured with a soft smile. "We just can't let him get to us. That's what he wants. And I'll be damned if I let him get what he wants."
"Oh, hi, you guys." Cartman's unmistakable voice rung out, heavy with pleasantness.
"What the hell are you doing here, you fat bastard?" Kyle immediately exploded.
"I guess Kyle's damned." Kenny mused.
"Shut up, Kenny!" He threatened before quickly directing his seething gaze back to Cartman. "We don't want you here, so piss off!"
"I'm sorry, Kyle, I didn't know you were still on your period." He cooed as he slid beside Kenny. "I would have brought some chocolate. I know how you girls get cravings during your special time of the month."
A low growl emitted from Kyle's bared teeth as he fought with every ounce of restraint to keep from attacking the smug idiot like a rabid wolf. He didn't even notice he had shot up from the bench until he felt Stan's warm hand wrap around his forearm and pull him back down. "Just let it go." He spoke quietly.
Kyle felt a tinge of loss when Stan removed his hand. He wanted to hurt Cartman even more for that.
"So," Cartman spoke up again, still smiling and he tapped his stack of photos against the table to even them out. "Who wants to see the pictures I got developed last night?"
Kenny's hand immediately shot up. "I do, I do!"
His smile brightened. "Okay, Kenny."
"Cartman, will you back off already?" The annoyance was high in Kyle's voice, as usually was the case when he was talking to Cartman.
"What? All I'm doing is showing Kenny my pictures."
"Yeah," Kenny agreed, scooting closer to Cartman to get a better look.
"That's bull crap and you know it! He's seen them five times already!"
The accused duo ignored the fire being shot at them. "The first one's aren't much,"
Cartman was explaining, shuffling at a leisurely pace through his stack. "It starts getting good right about… about here." He allowed a long pause on that particular picture before moving on to the next one. "Kinda looks like there's a little tongue action going on in this one…"
"Uh huh." Kenny agreed with incredible interest.
"Jesus Christ." Stan huffed, leaning his cheek against his palm. "I can't figure out if he's trying to humiliate us, or proving to everyone his prediction was right."
"Actually, both." Cartman cut in, allowing Kenny to pull the picture out of his hand. "I would use these to blackmail you, only the entire event happened in front of the whole town. I also must say, I was a little disappointed in the lack of passion."
"Shut up, Cartman." Stan demanded.
Cartman frowned in mocked insult. "I was nice enough to take pictures of a very beautiful moment in your lives, and you don't even want to see them?"
"No, we don't want to see them." Kyle snapped.
"Yeah, now quit asking, fat boy!"
"You break my heart, you guys. You really do."
Kenny's eyes were focused intently on the picture he held even as he spoke. "Can I take this in the bathroom with me for a while?"
"No, Kenny, I haven't shown them to everyone yet." Cartman informed. He tried to pull the pictures away, but Kenny had other idea's. "No, Kenny, you gotta give me the pictures so I can show them to everyone…" He whined loudly
"Give them back, Kenny," Stan insisted. "I really don't want you jerking off to a picture of me."
"Too late." He admitted as he yanked at the picture, pausing briefly to chuckle at Stan's clear mortification.
Cartman released the picture so suddenly that Kenny flew backward and landed on the ground with an "Oomph!"
"Wendy." Cartman stated simply, eyes glazed.
"Wendy?" Stan repeated.
Kyle opened his mouth to ask what about her when he spotted the blue eyed girl stand from the table she sat at, all the way across the cafeteria, behind Cartman, and begin walking toward them. "No fucking way."
"How did you do that?" Stan asked, mouth opened in astonishment as his eyes followed her.
"Do what?" Cartman asked stupidly, blinking away his locked stare.
"Hi, guys." Wendy greeted, causing Cartman to whirl around to face her. She looked down and frowned curiously at Kenny, who remained on the floor happily studying the photo, before looking back at the three remaining at the table.
"Wanna see my pictures, Wendy?" Cartman asked, sounding much too polite for his own good.
She smiled uneasily, ever wary and frustrated with him, before carefully declining. "You've already shown them to me."
It was all too noticeable the way his confidence level seemed to slip. "But it's better the second time you see them. Right, Kenny?"
"Uh huh." Rose the reply from the floor.
Cartman held the pictures up at her, like a child showing his mommy a picture he just colored. She shook her hand at it, "That's okay, really." She walked around the table to Stan and Kyle. "Stan, I just wanted to tell you I'm sorry I couldn't make it through the entire play. And, Kyle, I wanted to thank you for filling in for me. You both did a great job, everybody thinks so."
"Everyone thinks we're a big joke." Stan correctly dully, miserably.
"No, they don't," A pause. "Okay, maybe a few people. But mostly everyone thinks Kyle's kind of a hero for saving the show." She explained.
"Really?" He asked, hopefulness filling his voice.
"Yeah," She confirmed in a bubbly voice. "I have to get back, I just wanted to let you know." She slipped her arms around Kyle's shoulders and kissed his cheek, repeating the gesture on Stan. "I'll see you guys later."
Cartman's eyes followed her as she walked by before snapping back to the two across from him. "What the hell makes you fags so goddamn special?"
"We're not assholes." Stan answered.
"And what, I am?" He asked, almost sarcastically. His anger increased when no one answered. "Well, screw you guys!"
"Hey, screw you, you piece of shit!" Kyle combusted again.
Stan let out an aggravated grunt, stood angrily and grabbed the carton of milk he wasn't going to drink anyway.
"Where the hell are you going?" Cartman asked as he watched him swing his legs over the bench.
"As far away from you as I can get." He answered as he stopped beside Kenny, resisting the urge to kick him, hard. "Give me the goddamn picture, Kenny." His voice was stern and steady.
"Nuh uh."
"You're not going to get it back, Stan, he bites." Kyle warned.
"Yeah," Cartman actually agreed for once. "Do you know how many trashy magazines I've lost because he got his grubby little mitts on them?"
"Kenny," Stan called again, sounding breathy this time. "If you give me the picture back," He continued, stepping one leg over to cushion Kenny's hips between his shoes. "I'll make it worth your while."
That had his attention. He lowered the prize he cradled slightly as he looked up, clearly intoxicated by the sight of Stan hovering over him. "Really?"
With lightening speed, he leaned forward and snatched the photo away. "Yeah. Now I wont kick you in the nuts."
"Damnit!" Kenny shouted, scrambling to his feet. "You're a fucking tease, Stan!"
"Not as much as Kyle is." His heart stalled, hoping he hadn't said that aloud. "I'm sitting somewhere else." He announced.
"Hey, aren't you gonna give me my picture back?" Cartman snapped.
Stan scoffed. "Fuck you, asshole." And he began to walk away.
Cartman could feel his blood begin to boil, making him quake on the outside. Suddenly, he relaxed. "So I keep forgetting to ask if its happening yet." He called out.
Stan tried his damnedest not to care, but curiosity got the best of him. "If what's happening?" He asked as his footsteps died, deciding to maintain some dignity and not turn around.
"Boners."
The word was used so often, none of the other students seemed to even take notice that it had just been shouted.
"What?" He asked against his better judgment, and finally turned around.
Happy to have his attention and the opportunity to screw with his head some more, Cartman continued. "It came to me in a vision,"
"They come to me in visions, too."
"Goddamnit, Kenny." Kyle cursed with exasperation.
"The driving point that's going draw you away from Kyle." Cartman continued on in the way that only he could after Kenny had just said something consciously nauseating. "Now that you and Kyle made-out, you're starting to become more aware of him, aren't you?"
"God, Cartman!"
He held up his hand, palm outward at Kyle, his eyes still on Stan. "This is between me and Stan."
"I don't know what the hell you're talking about." Stan confirmed, trying to assure himself that Kyle's eyes distracting him earlier didn't qualify.
"Oh, I think you do." Cartman assured. "And it's not going to stop here. I'm not certain of what, but something about Kyle, something you've never paid attention to before, is going to make you so hard you wont even be able to sit through class with him unless you have a book over your lap to hide the evidence."
Without missing a beat, Stan chucked his milk at Cartman, successfully cracking it open over his head.
"Ah, son of a bitch!" He wailed.
But Stan was already gone, maneuvering through his peers and out the door. He waited until it closed to give it a nice swift kick before slamming himself against the wall. He heaved an angry breath and smacked the back of his head against the building once. The picture he had snatched dangled from his limp fingers, a painful reminder of everything.
A mere three feet away, Butters sat with his back against the wall, eyes wide in astonishment. He had been sitting by himself, in the quiet, when Stan had literally come crashing through the door. He wasn't sure whether to speak up, walk away, or pretend to be invisible. But of course, his mouth worked before his brain ever did. "Hi there, S-Stan."
His eyes were squeezed closed, his free hand pressed against them. "Shut-up, Butters."
"Oh, okay then." He tapped his fingertips together, trying hard to look away and losing the battle. Stan was upset, he decided, wanting to do something to help. But he couldn't say anything. He didn't want to risk the chance of scaring him away again. Plucking at a loose thread, he selfishly absorbed the presence beside him, fully appreciating everything from the red poof-ball hat to the tips of his black shoes. It didn't take long for the silence become too much. "Did you wanna talk about-"
"Cartman took pictures of the play." Stan blurted immediately, not even giving the blonde the chance to finish his offer of a listening ear. He peered down at the one he held before continuing. "He's an asshole, Butters. I can't even look at Kyle anymore without thinking about all the shit he's said."
Butters remained silent, wanting to help but not knowing how. It didn't make a difference, however, as Stan didn't hesitate to sink down the wall to the ground and continue to ramble.
"It's weird, you know? How all it takes is for someone to say something once, and you think about it all the time. I've never thought of Kyle as anything but my best friend."
"You haven't?" The hopeful question bubbled out of Butters throat before he could contain it.
Stan shook his head, not the least put off by the surprise in his companions voice. He knew Butters would never say anything to intentionally hurt anyone. "No, never. Even when we used to joke around about it. Now that Cartman's saying all this crap about us, how can I not think about it? It's making me feel like it's wrong to be around my own best friend. And I think he feels the same way." He paused to think, hands turned palm-upward in a questioning gesture. "We didn't talk to each other all weekend. That's not normal. We're always together. Always. And today… it's like there's this strain between us." He let his hands, animated with talk, fall back onto his raised knees. "I don't know what to do."
You should back off for a while. Just leave him alone.
Kenny's advice about Stan himself swirled through Butters head. He hesitated before speaking up. "W-well, maybe you should just back off."
Stan looked over at him for the first time. "What?"
That was wrong, wasn't it? Butters was sure he had blown it again. Regardless, he cleared his throat nervously and spoke again. "You know. Just leave him alone for ah, a while. 'Til things die down a little." The blue gaze continued to pierce him, something he could really get used to.
"You think that will work?" He asked, finally.
Butters smiled at the irony. Stan didn't even realize it had worked on him. "Course it will."
Stan looked back down at the picture he still held. "I don't know." He said carefully. "I don't want to leave him alone."
Butters cautiously scooted closer and peered over at the picture. "Whoa! Where the heck you get that from?"
"Cartman." The name was sneered.
They both studied it a moment. "I watched the whole play, a-and I don't remember the kiss bein' so-"
"He takes good pictures." Stan cut him off. "He just… got it at a really good angle."
Simultaneously, they turned their heads sideways, analyzing it further.
"I don't think it's the angle, Stan." Butters decided.
They jumped, skin and clothes coming in contact with one another, at the sound of the door flying open. Kyle emerged, followed shortly by Kenny.
"There you are." Kyle declared when his eyes landed on Stan. "Come on, dude, we're ditching."
"Ditching?" Stan repeated, heart still pounding at the sudden intrusion.
"Yeah, you know," Kyle explained. "That's where we split instead of going to class. Come on." He motioned his hand in a lets go fashion.
"We can't just ditch." Stan argued. Why the hell was his stomach tingling?
"Yeah, we can." Kyle assured. His determination withered at Stan's reluctant stare. "Please? Come on, Stan. I couldn't see you for weeks because you were sick, and now because of fat fuck we're like total strangers." His voice was soft, eyes sad. "We're always the ones doing the right thing. Just once, lets say fuck it and go hang out. Just you and me."
Stan returned the smile he received. "What about your mom? She'll find out."
"Kenny took care of that." Kyle announced proudly. "He told Miss Brown you weren't feeling well again, and I had to see you home. She's not going to be calling anyone's mom."
He offered his hand as a help up, which Stan took. As soon as he was on his feet, Kyle wrapped his arm around his shoulder and began to lead him away.
"Thanks, Kenny." Stan beamed.
"It was nothing." He shrugged it off.
Stan halted, feeling around his pockets quickly and suddenly ducking and darting out of Kyle's half-embrace. "Crap! What happened to-"
"I have it." Butters stood, and pulled the picture out. "I hid it when the door opened. I know how you don't wah-want no one to see it."
There it was again. That breathtaking gaze Butters felt like he was drowning in.
"Thanks." Stan accepted it slowly. "Look, I'm sorry about… everything I-"
"Gee, that's alright, Stan." Butters promised.
Stan relaxed noticeably and slipped the picture into his jacket. "I'll see you around." He cast one last, perfect smile before walking away with Kyle.
Butters watched him go, a mixture of hopefulness and jealousy raining all around him. He hadn't even remembered Kenny until a hand fell on his shoulder.
"You alright?"
"Oh, I-I'm swell." He smiled, but it faded quickly. "Why'd you come out here if they only wanna hang out with each other?"
"I knew you were out here." Kenny admitted. "I wanted to make sure you'd be okay when Stan left."
Confusion crept onto Butter's face. "H-how'd you know I was out here? Are you stalking me or sumthin'?"
"Or something." Kenny answered humorously. He held the door open and motioned inward, gentleman style. "After you." He cocked his head to the left, sizing up Butters ass as he entered the cafeteria.
-BratChild3
