Stan sat down at the boys' usual lunch table with his tray. This was the first time in weeks that Stan actually came to lunch, so the rest of their quad just stopped expecting him. But, coach was sick today, do there weren't any, 'inspirational' speeches and encouraging pats on the butt. Thus; Stan had lunch.
Two things surprised Stan when he arrived at the table. The first was that Cartman was missing. This was odd, because lunch was Cartman's favorite class.
The second was that Kyle wasn't there either.
Stan sighed. He had thought that today he would actually get to see Kyle. It had been days since they last talked, not counting a failed attempt made by Stan yesterday. It went something like…
Stan met Kyle at his locker, ignoring the creepy goose bumps from it usually being the other way around. He needed to talk to Kyle; getting the feeling the other had been avoiding him.
"Hey." Stan said, trying to pull a manly tone. Kyle just continued emptying his back pack, picking out which binders he needed, and things like that. Stan tapped Kyle on the shoulder, wanting his full attention.
"Hey." When Kyle still refused to look at Stan, the quarterback was getting really upset. Stan gripped Kyle at the front of his shirt and pulled him up an inch off the floor, glaring at him.
The noise of Kyle's books dropping to the floor made everyone around them turn to look.
"I said, 'Hey.' Goddamn it, Kyle…" Stan stopped when he looked, actually looked at Kyle.
His hands weren't gripping at Stan's or at the shirt like expected, but straight at his sides instead, fists tight.
His gaze trailed up to the redhead's face. His head was turned away, and it occurred to Stan that it might look like he slapped him or something.
There was also… A… Bruise? A bruise on Kyle's cheek. That really made it look like he hit him, except it wasn't fresh.
He looked up to Kyle's eyes, to ask about it, but instead of being greeted by the green he was so familiar with, they were squeezed tight, closed. He bit his lower lip. He was clenching every muscle in his body.
Suddenly, Stan felt very sick, but not so that he felt like puking like he usually did.
"Kyle… Kyle, do you… Do you think I'm going to hit you?" His tone was soft, quiet, and what he hoped was comforting. Maybe it was, because Kyle loosened a little, but still didn't face Stan.
Stan finally put Kyle down again. Quickly and wordlessly, Kyle kneeled down to pick up his books. He stood up, slammed shut his locker, and walked away.
He still hadn't said a word to Stan.
"Where…" Kenny looked up, surprised to see Stan. "Where is Kyle…?" Kenny thought a moment, chewing on what he hoped was pizza. Then, he shrugged. Stan sighed and walked away with his lunch, quickly dumping it in the trash can, and walked on.
What the hell was going on with Kyle these days?