Kyle was an idiot.

This is what Cartman half-heartedly decided when the deal the two of them had going was on its third week.

Kyle was an idiot, because he wasn't being careful enough. He didn't wear turtle necks or scarves to hide the marks on his neck, which isn't that bad because turtle necks are for pussies. But he didn't even wear long sleeves to hide his arms! He could have at least done that. Since year-round there was snow on the ground, no one would have really said much.

But, no. Kyle decided one day that he would wear a tank top to school. And it just so happened to be the day when one of the five clubs he was in, Advanced Mathletes, met after school.

And, of course, Wendy was the club President.

Wendy wasn't stupid. Eric knew this. It was one of the reasons she would have been a pretty good partner in world domination. But it was also the reason that she immediately noticed the bruises that Kyle was so damn proud to show off.

Goddamn it, Kyle. Just goddamnit.

Upon confronting Kyle about his marks, he had nothing to say. Cartman knew this because he was bored and horny and was going to pick up Kyle from that very club that day, and came up to Wendy and him talking in the hall.

"Kyle, come on, you can tell me. We've been friends for yea-"

"We have never been friends, Wendy."

"Well, we've known each other for years! That counts for something. Come on Kyle. I won't tell anyone if it's a big secret, ok?"

Cartman stomped up at this point and shoved Kyle back behind him. "Careful there, Kyle. Look her in the eyes and you'll turn to stone."

Wendy gave Cartman a flat look. "Do you mind, Eric? Kyle and I were trying to have a civilized conversation."

Cartman snarled. "How about I give you a short summary? He says no, you offer him a blow job, he still doesn't give a shit, and you cry and eat your own weight in ice cream for a week, then go on Opera about your problems."

Wendy scoffed and quickly retorted, "Almost, Eric. But I think you forgot the part where your mom also drowns her sorrows in cheap male strippers." She looked around Cartman and offered Kyle a smile. "You can tell me about it later, Kyle."

Cartman nudged Kyle and Kyle automatically responded, "And you can mind your own business, Wendy."

Wendy simply shrugged, waved, and walked the other way.

The next morning, Eric was walking to Kyle's locker to slip in a note that read, "9:15, East Corridor, Upstairs Boys' Bathroom" when Wendy came up in his line of vision.

"Oh, hey Eric." She said, mocking what a human girl's voice should sound like by toning it lower. "What's that you have there, hmm?"

Cartman gave her The Eye, and wondered out loud, "What the hell do you want, Wendy?"

"Let me guess," Wendy went on, ignoring the question. "Another note to Kyle? I bet it goes something like the few I found: '12:20, Teachers' Lounge, Skipping Lunch'. Or maybe this one: '3:30, Mrs. Garrison's Class, Skipping Future Democrats of America'. Something like that?"

That stupid Jew needed to clean out his locker more often.

Cartman sighed. "So sometimes I invite Kyle to hang out with me when I skip classes. Big whoop. Those can't prove anything if you're trying to get me in trouble."

Wendy grinned. "Yeah, I guess it can't. But you know…" The bell rang and all the students in the hall vanished. Wendy whipped out two late passes that Class Presidents apparently have access to. "My position, it allows certain… I don't know. Conveniences. Like unlimited amounts of late passes and hall passes. Excuses to get out of doing class work… Locker keys."

"That's bullshit. You don't have right to go through student locker-"

"But I can just pick up a ring of Janitor keys that happen to be laying around, now can't I?"

Cartman stayed quiet for a moment, and remembered something. "So what? Kyle doesn't have anything with him that can get us in trou-"

"But you do."

Cartman froze and noticed for the first time that one of Wendy's hand was behind her back. "What… What is that?"

Wendy smirked. Evil little hippie bitch, Wendy was. "Nothing really… Just a little thing I picked up while in your locker. But can you tell me, Eric…" She pulled out the white cloth that Cartman recognized oh too well. "Why you have Kyle's shirt?"

Crap.

"And why, also, are all the buttons popped out?"

Double crap.

There they both stood there. Opponents. Enemies.

"That's not Kyle's." Cartman said, making his best, 'What the fuck' face.

"Then why does it smell just like Kyle?" She grinned, a bitchy sort of grin.

"What the hell? You were-"

"I mean, I wouldn't know that well. But I bet…" She brought the shirt up to her face. "You would know." Wendy took a whiff of the shirt, sighing as she let it go. Cartman had to do all he could not to just kill her right then and there.

"Listen." Wendy said sharply, folding the shirt properly. "I don't want to play games with you anymore. It's just too, too boring. I'll just tell you; I know what you and Kyle have been up to. I know you know exactly why he is dressed in bruises and why you and he are spending so much time together.

"I'm going to keep this under wraps, ok? Not as a favor to you, but to Kyle. Maybe you don't understand why it is a big favor to Kyle," Cartman didn't, but he didn't dare interrupt. "But I don't feel like spoiling it for you. It's not my place. I just want to know: why?"

Cartman blinked, confused. "'Why'? Why what?"

"Why you're doing this to him. I assume you have some sort of power over him, because the Kyle I know would never just fool around with you, of all people, without a fight. I just want to know why you're doing this to him."

Cartman shrugged and hoped he could smooth it over with a lie. "Cause I'm a seventeen year old boy. I'm get horny."

"Why Kyle? You could blackmail anyone to do shit like this with you, Eric. Don't lie and say you can't."

Cartman sighed. "Wendy. I just really don't think-"

"Tell me the truth this time, or I'm going to tell Kyle I know right now. I know exactly where he is."

Cartman held his breath. She wasn't lying. Shit. "Because… I hate him."

Wendy hummed and looked the shirt, now neatly folded, over a few times. Then she threw it at Cartman, who caught it easily, and started in the direction of her current class. "Fine. Bye Eric."

Cartman blinked and shook the shirt out of its fold, picking up the late pass that fell out.

"Goddamn, that hippie bitch is scary."