A/N: First of all, I'd like to wish this story a happy belated third birthday! Heh, isn't that terrible? I can't believe it's been that long since I've started this. But anyway, thanks so much to everyone who reviewed Chapter Five (Shaboba, Famous Living Dead, TheOriginalLuvsBitch, mad hatter 1712, JACinthebox, PersianLady, greenapplechild, bp, werewolf fan, and assassinatorgirl); you guys gave me the most reviews I've ever gotten for a single chapter of this story! And thanks to everyone else for reading and adding this story to your alerts!

Before you read, let me note that there is one POV change in this chapter. Most of the chapter is Kyle, but there is a break mid-chapter that's from Stan's POV.

All right, that's all.

It's Saturday afternoon, and I'm almost done getting ready to leave. I have plans for the rest of the day, pretty much.

Oh yeah, I agreed to go out with Cartman.

To be honest, I'm really unsure of how this date's gonna go. I decided to go through with it pretty much on a whim. I guess I figured, why not? If it's bad, then I wasted a whole Saturday with the fat ass. If it's good, then…I don't know. Then I can say I had a good time hanging out with Cartman, which is something not a lot of other people can say.

Either way, at least I'm not left wondering. Sometimes it's exhilarating to go at something blindly.

Or excruciating, one of the two. I'm about to find out which is correct in this case.

I run my fingers through my hair one last time and start to head out my bedroom door. I pause for a moment, thinking about whether I should wear my ushanka or not. I know Cartman would like it better if I didn't wear it.

Butfuck him; it's January. And I have to walk outside a couple of blocks so I can meet with him. I wish he could just pick me up at my house, but I know my mom would have a fit if she knew I was going out somewhere with Eric Cartman, anti-Semitic son of a whore, town asshole…among other things. Besides, it wouldn't make sense with where I told her I was going today.

Grabbing my hat, I close my door and head down the stairs. I pass by my mom on my way to the front door.

"Are you all ready for your little field trip, bubby?" she asks me.

"Yeah, mom…" I trail off.

Naturally, I'm lying about my real plans for today. I told my mom I was going on some field trip, which is kinda funny since I haven't gone on a field trip in years. But she doesn't need to know that. As far as she knows, I'm going to this museum out of town for my history class, and I'll be gone all day. I even made up a fake permission slip so my mom wouldn't get suspicious or nervous or anything. She tends to do that.

I turn around, and my mom is standing right beside me. "Well, I guess I'm gonna go now, Mom."

Her eyes fill with worry. "You're going to walk all the way to the school? No, that won't do, Kyle. It's too far away. I'll take you."

I suppress the urge to roll my eyes. I thought I went over this with her. "No, Mom, I told you. One of my classmates was gonna meet me at the bus stop and take us to the school."

"That doesn't seem necessary. I'll take you."

I sigh. "I already told him I'd meet him there, Mom."

She seemed completely unfazed by anything I have to say. "Just tell him your mother's taking you. He'll understand."

What the hell? That woman does not give up. I guess I'll just have to call Cartman at school and tell him to pick me up there.

When we arrive at the school, I'm relieved to see a group of buses sitting in the parking lot. I think the drama club is having some kind of competition today. That's great for me, seeing as how my mom probably wouldn't leave until she saw me get on a damn bus.

So that's what I do. After I get out of the car, I make my way over to a random open bus, waving goodbye to my mom for good measure. I take a few steps into the bus, and when I glance over, my mom is pulling out of the parking lot. Thank God. This whole plan isn't as easy as I thought, but it's turning out okay…so far.

"Hey kid, what are you doing?"

I turn around to see the apparent driver of the bus I'm on looking at me like I'm an idiot. I pretend to look lost as I step down from the bus. "Oh, sorry…" I say.

I think he thinks I'm either completely stupid or completely inebriated. Either way, I don't care. I pull out my cell phone as I walk away, hoping I have Cartman's number in my address book.

Luckily, I do, and when he picks up, he sounds like some kind of angry dog barking. "Where are you?"

"I'm at the school," I reply, shivering slightly from the cold breeze.

"Why the fuck are you at school?" He practically snarls over the phone.

"I told my mom I was going on a field trip, remember?" I begin to explain, and with his silence I can tell he doesn't understand. "I told my mom I was meeting someone at the bus stop to take us to the school, but she didn't give a fuck and insisted on taking me herself."

"Dumb bitch."

My grip on the phone tightens, and I almost want to break it. "She's not a bitch, Cartman. She's just…overprotective."

"Yeah, that's what I said, overprotective bitch." I want to punch him in the face. "So what do you want me to do?" he adds.

"Can you come pick me up at the school?"

"Screw that. Just walk over here. That'd be easier."

"No, it wouldn't! Walking would take forever! Just get your fat ass over here and pick me up before I give up on this stupid date."

For some reason, that seems to get to him. After muttering a "fine," he hangs up the phone and I wait for him to show up.

About twenty minutes later, he does. Finally. I hop in his mom's car; he mutters a few angry words at me, and we pull off.

In silence.

…Which continues until we get to North Park. I'm not entirely sure why we're not saying anything to each other. I don't think we're pissed off at each other anymore—I know I stopped being angry within five minutes of riding in the car.

I can't put my finger on it.

The first thing we do is get something to eat. We stop at some pizza place and order our food, and I notice that Cartman doesn't eat quite as much as he normally does. Is he sick or something? Usually he would eat everything in front of him, including what's mine, but not today.

And we still don't talk. Not that I really enjoy talking to Cartman all that much, but things are starting to feel…really awkward and weird.

Luckily, the next place we go is to the movies, where we don't have to talk anyway. Thank God. We end up seeing this completely shitty horror movie that I have trouble taking seriously, but at least I got to sit and chill out for an hour and a half. I swear I felt Cartman's hand brush by mine at some point, but maybe I'm mistaken.

It's about halfway through the afternoon, and I'm surprised I haven't been able to reach Kyle yet. Usually we'd be hanging out by now. There's no way he could still be asleep. He'd better not be doing homework or anything. Either way, I'm sure he won't mind if I stop by.

I ring the bell to his house, and his mom answers the door.

"Oh, hello, Stanley. How are you doing today?"

"I'm good. Is Kyle here?"

Her answer surprises me. "Oh, no. He's on a field trip today."

What? I didn't think we had those anymore. I try not to look too surprised. "A field trip?"

"Yes. Didn't he tell you?"

"Oh, uh, yeah. I must've forgotten about it. I guess I'll just talk to him tomorrow, then."

"All right. Goodbye, Stanley."

"Bye, Mrs. Broflovski."

And with that, she shuts the door. I start walking back to my house, feeling confused. Kyle didn't tell me about any field trip. Something about this whole thing doesn't seem right.

But maybe I'm just imagining things. It's probably nothing. I'll ask him about it tomorrow.

Soon enough, we're back in Cartman's mom's car again, driving aimlessly. Finally, Cartman says something to me.

"You ready to go home?"

I want to say yes, but for some reason I find myself shaking my head.

I see a slight hint of intrigue in his eyes as we both try to conjure up another activity. We pass by a pond similar to the one at home, and I suggest we stop there. We park, and I notice a sign—"Stork's Pond." I swear these two towns are so much alike it's scary.

The sun is starting to set, and I can notice the shimmer it casts on the icy pond in front of us. We sit down on a common log by the pond, and I stare at the orange sky as Cartman looks at his shoes.

"This was a shitty idea," I hear him say.

He doesn't sound angry or disappointed or anything. His tone is more emotionless, like he's stating the obvious. I don't know how to respond to him. I kind of agree with him. It's kind of funny, though—I thought it would be shitty for much different reasons. I thought we wouldn't be able to get through the day without fighting with each other constantly, but we haven't done that at all since we've been here. I guess we would have to be talking to be anywhere near fighting.

"It wasn't…shitty," I start out, trying to make things sound a little more positive. "It's just…we haven't said one word to each other this whole time, and I don't know why."

"I know why," he replies, and I turn to look at him, intrigued. "It's because this shit is too goddamn weird."

I chuckle a little. "Yeah, I guess you're right. I never thought we'd ever be doing this in a million years. I guess we just don't know how to act around each other on a date."

"Well, I think we're supposed to be nice to each other, but fuck if I know how to do that."

I pause and think. I can definitely agree with that. I don't know how to be nice to him either. I mean, we've had our cordial moments before, but how are we supposed to act nice and polite to each other constantly like most people do when they're on a date? That's just not the way we are. And even though Cartman can really piss me off sometimes, I don't know that I'd want any of that to change that much. Talking to him normally can be aggravating, but at least it's not boring. Being too nice would be unbearable.

"Why did you want to go on a date with me anyway?" I suddenly question.

I can tell he doesn't really want to answer me. "Why'd you agree to it?" he counteracts.

"I don't know," I honestly answer. "I guess curiosity got the best of me."

"Is that all?" he asks, and I notice his eyes have shifted from me to the pond.

"I guess." I pause. "You didn't answer my question. Why'd you want to go out with me?"

"I don't know."

"There must be a reason."

"Fine." I hear him scoff. "It's because you're a stupid Jew and I hate you…"

"Cartman!" This is getting ridiculous.

"Let me finish!" he says. "You're a stupid Jew and I hate you, but…" he emphasizes, "I don't really mind hanging around with you."

Is this his way of saying he likes hanging out with me? I smile and shake my head lightly. "Thanks, Cartman. I don't really mind hanging around with you, either."

I see him smile a little too, but it quickly goes away. "But I still can't be nice to you. After all, you're still a stupid Jew."

I roll my eyes. "And you're still a stupid fat ass."

We share some kind of a moment until Cartman starts to move from where he's sitting. "Fuck this shit," he announces. "Come on, Jew. It's getting dark. I need to get you back to your bitch mom."

"Shut the hell up, Cartman. She's not a bitch."

"Whatever. I'm sure she'll want to hear all about your 'field trip' today as soon as you get back. You'd better be thinking of some shit to tell her."

"Yeah, I guess…" I mutter. He's probably right.

"Why the fuck did you tell her you were going on a field trip, anyway?" he continues. "There's got to be a million better things you could've told her you were doing today. You're pretty shitty at lying."

"I'm sorry I'm not a manipulative asshole like you, Cartman," I reply as we find our way back to the car. Soon enough, we pull out of the entranceway to Stork's Pond and are on our way to South Park, bickering the entire ride back.

I don't think either of us would have it any other way.

Finally, we get about a block away from my house, and Cartman pulls over to let me off. "Get the fuck out, Jew," he announces as soon as he stops the car. Annoyed, I start to open the door, but Cartman stops me. "Wait," he says. "I just wanted to say…aside from us not talking to each other most of the time, I don't think today completely sucked balls." He pauses, looking at me intently. "Did you?"

I stop a moment to think. "No, I guess not," I answer. As an afterthought I add, "Maybe next time'll be better."

I see his face perk up. "Next time?"

Huh, why'd I say that? Hell if I know if there'll be a next time. But who can really say? I'll need to think more on that later. Eluding him further, I simply shrug. His face registers that of uncertainty, and I decide to keep him looking that way. "Good night, Cartman. See you later," I say as I get out of the car, shutting the door behind me. I start to walk away, and I see him glance at me through the window for a moment as he drives past me.

I don't know what to think of this day. It wasn't the best time I've ever had…but it wasn't the worst. I'm not sure if I liked it at all, but I know I didn't hate it. I'm left with too much intrigue to have hated it. Even with all the years I've known Cartman, I feel like it's only now that I'm starting to get to know him. There are a lot of different sides to him that I really haven't seen and some that I didn't even know existed, and seeing him in different situations such as this one sure helps bring some of those sides to light. And I'm starting to realize that maybe I can stand him a little better than I previously thought.

Maybe there will be a next time.