Tell me what you all think so far, RR! Thanx!

....

I woke up bleary eyed as I noticed the morning sun beaming down my face through Stan's bedroom window. I took a moment and stretched in his bed and eventually sat up taking in a yawn and rubbing both my eyes with the crook of my palms. I peered out the window already noticing the local kids are out playing with a basket ball and a couple others on their bicycles. How long did I sleep in? I look over to Stan's clock and it displays a blinking red '12:00am.' I guess he never bothered setting the proper time to it; he's always plugging and unplugging the damn thing anyway.

I walk down stairs and see Cartman sitting at ease on the couch channel surfing, already appearing showered due to his damp hair. "About time you're up Jew rat." He says dismissively, never taking his eyes off the screen.

"What time is it?" I asked him groggily as I walked in the living room clearly not faze from his every day racist slur. The near neo-Nazi's been saying that to me along with a bundle of his other favorite anti-Semite remarks since I first met the fat bastard when I was 4 in preschool, and he had the nerve to say 'Jew!' to my face on the very first day. He didn't have a shred of decency to wait at least a couple weeks to say something like that.

"12:30." He replied as he shifted his weight on the couch more comfortably.

"Mm" I involuntarily mumbled in my throat, a light guttural sound from the stun of how late I slept in. I can't remember the last time I've ever crashed in this late before let alone in Stan's house. There's been countless sleep over's where we'd stay up bullshitting around with videogames and movies and I still wake up that same morning no later than ten.

I walked into the kitchen where I see Stan's back to me cooking something on the stove, from the aroma it's probably pancakes or waffles. It should be so since I noticed a small set of staked plates, forks, a half empty bottle of Aunt Jemima syrup, and a gallon of milk on the table. Kenny is there sitting on one of the table chairs, his profile to me with a cup of milk in front of him, looks like he hasn't bothered drinking it yet considering it's filled to the very top; and his eyes are locked to the milk in a lost gaze. Something is clearly going through his mind given that he hasn't even realized I'm now in the room. I leaned against the wide frame of the kitchen and crossing my arms trying to gain his attention from my movement and sure enough Kenny shot his eyes up to me and gave me a flirty smirk and I smirked back in return.

"I tried waking you up earlier but you wouldn't budge." Kenny explains quirking a brow.

A tingling sensation inevitably rose to my cheeks, and I don't know exactly why. "Oh, I guess... I was really tired." I managed to say.

"Yeah, I guess so." Stan said as he turned around carrying a large plate full of pancakes, and I couldn't resist chuckling at the sight of Stan being a domestic.

"Shut up, Kyle." Stan chastised playfully while he set the delectable mountain of pancakes to the center of the table. "I know you can't necessarily eat this..." Stan trailed off; I felt as if his tone was for only my ears, although what he was trying to say was no secret.

"There is whole wheat bread and some Raisin Bran." Kenny mentioned before taking a sip of his milk.

"Yea dude, the bread is in the pantry along with the cereal." Stan added as he took a seat next to Kenny and they both began helping themselves with the fluffy pancakes and syrup.

I can't eat pancakes or syrup along with whole list of other things due to my type 1 diabetes. I walk to the pantry and only pull the cereal out, not exactly being in the mood for the wheat bread too. I grab a bowl, spoon and prepared my cold breakfast at the counter and took a quick bite of the crunchy cereal before joining Stan and Kenny.

"So how long before you guys knocked out last night." Stan asked absentmindedly as he kept his focus on his pancakes.

I froze for a moment, and my mind came to a blank but luckily Kenny stepped in. "I dunno, like 2 in morning or something." He said nonchalantly, an attitude I couldn't essentially maintain at this moment. "Cartman!" Kenny shouts abruptly towards the living room. "Pancakes are done!" I suppose he said that to sort of change the subject.

"About fucking time..." Cartman grumbles as he took a seat directly across from me, grabbed a plate, fork and delved into the serving of pancakes.

I continued to eat my cereal as silence envelops the room the only audible sounds were coming from all of us chewing. However, I was the loudest considering I'm the only one who is eating crunchy cold ass cereal. God, after a decade, I can't stand eating Raisin Bran anymore!

"So Kyle..." Cartman begins with his mouth semi-full.

"What." I ask slightly annoyed as I stabbed my spoon into my cereal, slowly loosing my appetite.

"Did you have fun last night?" He asked, his eyes never leaving his plate.

I ceased the jamming of my spoon along with my breath and glared at him. "...E-Excuse me?" I say carefully.

Cartman looked at me this time and faintly narrowed his dark eyes. "Did you..." He emphasized with a lacing sarcastic tone. "have...fun...last...night?" He finished overly accentuating each word.

First of all, Cartman never has the courtesy to ask a gay question like that, it's just not apart of his overall demeanor.

"No, I didn't." I answer mocking his same tone.

Kenny sniggered; his head down into his plate avoiding eye contact with any of us as Stan looked at Kenny awkwardly then directed his focus to Cartman and me.

"What the hell...did I miss something." Stan commented obviously lost as to why Kenny is laughing and honestly I have no idea why he's laughing either, he's weird like that sometimes.

"I only asked you a simple question Kyle, no need to get all bitchy." Cartman said with that irritating false tone of his. Fuck, I hope beyond all hope he doesn't know anything, I wouldn't think he'd know anything...right?

"You guys, not now." Stan warned with exasperation.

I didn't say anything and neither did Cartman, I more than happy that Stan had said that. If Cartman knows something, which he shouldn't, I don't want him blurting something out that shouldn't be heard from Stan.

"We're going to laser with Token and Clyde are you gonna come?" Stan asked scrapping the last contents of his pancakes.

I wanna say yes but that damn book report pop back into my head at that moment. "Uh...I don't know."

"Come on!" Kenny whines, which was cute as hell. "You can finish that retarded report tomorrow; you have all Sunday to do it." Kenny reassured as I felt like he completely read my mind again.

I look at him with half creased brows false frustration as I felt Cartman's and Stan's eyes on me as well. "...Well...I-Fine, I suppose so." I agreed rather reluctantly.

...

We arrive to one of South Park's local promenades and we already see Token and Clyde outside the laser tag entrance along with someone else.

"Hiya Fella's!" Our unexpected guest, Butter's exclaimed.

"What the hell is he doing here?" Cartman sneered to Token as if it was his fault Butter's tagged along.

"He wanted to come too Fatass." Token countered in Butters defense using the obese slur he most likely picked up from me...nice.

We all walked into the laser tag structure and ordered us each a gun and a cheesy looking chest plate. Since there are not that many people in today we got our laser room rather quickly. The room was dark and looked like any glow stick; ecstasy taking rave kid would have a blast in here. There are acid neon lights of blue, red and green flashing in about in disarray and the numerous walls that surrounded us is particularly set up as a decent maze.

We split up and go to our own little areas to start and a recorded male voice soon fills the room

"5...4...3...2...1!"

Our laser guns are activated and we're off, I lean against the wall with my gun at hand like I'm some cop waiting to barge in a criminal's home. I hear faint shuffling but the techno music makes it harder to hear the others. I turn the corner of the wall and thankfully see Clyde's back to me. I shoot him and duck behind another wall before he had a chance to see me. I cautiously walk more throughout the room heightening my senses and looking out for anyone I can possibly shoot.

I quickly see Stan who flashed before my eyes and I lean against another wall in a small panic. I poke my head out and see if he's still there but he isn't. I suddenly notice my chest plate flicker red and I swiftly spun around and spot Cartman directly behind me.

"Oh, I'm very proud of ya lard butt, you got me." I scoff as I pointed my gun to him.

"Shut up." He spat. "I know you out last night."

I abruptly felt weak along with every ounce of breath escaping my lungs. "What..." I tried to say.

"Don't play dumb you sneaky Jew." Cartman argued as he approached me. "Now where did you go?"

I felt my eyes piercing through his as I walked backwards from each step he took forward. I took in an unsteady breath in attempt to maintain myself again. "Why the hell do you care?" I was able to say with enough confidence.

"Because I saw you and Kenny leave to back yard last night, now what the hell were you guys doing back there?" Cartman shouted above the racket of music.

"None of your fucking business!" I shouted back my brows wrinkled in fury as I held a death grip on my laser gun.

"Tell me, you fucking fag." He raged stepping in a lot closer this time.

That comment was all I needed to punch him square in the face. "I don't have to tell you shit." I fumed, now I know I'm getting really defensive...not good.

He held onto his jaw for a moment and his eyes ultimately retuned back to me. He looks like he wants to kill me more than ever. He stepped closer to me and I impulsively jerked back.

He gripped my chin with a single hand squeezing it, forcing me to closely meet his gaze, too close. "You have no idea what you're getting yourself into." He seethes and I can feel his warm breath stroke across my cheeks. He harshly releases his hold after a brief instant and walks away to another section.

I know to never trust Eric Cartman, the fucking arrogant prick to ever live on earth. I never did win laser tag that day or any of the games following the first one His words echoed through mind each time I caught a glimpse of Kenny and the neon rave lights that played against him didn't seem to help.