Another ordinary morning in South Park. The snow crunched under my feet as I approached my little group waiting at the bus stop. We're so inclined to our particular places, no one even needs step aside for me to stand in my spot. They always leave my empty space for me or whoever arrives last in the morning. Nothing has changed, even if all three have done something strange lately.
Stan nods a greeting, but apart from that, no one pauses in their conversation. And I don't really need to be brought up to speed.
Cartman continued the conversation they'd all been having, gesturing to me with everyone else.
"This one's really good you guys, seriously, just listen... so the father gets out a deck of playing cards..."
"We've already heard the punchline, man," Kenny said.
"Yeah," Said Stan, "No one wants to hear another fuckin' aristocrats joke."
"It's a running joke, you guys, you build on it and make it worse," Cartman protested, "That's why it's funny."
"Gross out isn't enough by itself," I said, crossing my arms in the cold, "Get some new political humor or get out."
"Building humor on humor works too," Cartman said, "You know, it's meta?"
Every conversation I have with Cartman is an argument.
"I like character humor better anyway," Stan said.
Bit of column A, bit of column B.
The bus arrived shortly after that.
"Done ignoring me now?" Cartman asked, stepping on after me.
"As much as I ever can be," I replied.
"Always come back," Cartman said smugly.
"I meant you're hard to ignore," I told him.
"Exactly," He said.
I could hear his smirk in his voice. God, he was annoying.
I sat next to Stan on the bus, as always, Cartman and Kenny in the seat across the isle. The interest I felt from the new year had worn off. I leaned against the window and watched the town go by.
"You ever gonna tell me what he did?" Stan asked.
"I'd rather not," I replied.
"Just Cartman being Cartman?" Stan asked.
Well, I guess so. I nodded. Stan doesn't get angry easily. Just when I'm involved, it seems. I'd rather not have him starting up a fight again that I've almost forgotten about.
In fact, forgetting about Cartman's jackass-ery seems like the best policy in general.
But, given the hand that gently touched my arm as I walk towards the school belongs to Clyde, I might not be so lucky.
I turned and glared at him. He grimaced.
I didn't hate Clyde. He was fine. He sat at the same long table as my group, just a little farther down. We didn't talk much lately, I guess. He was still a coward, though, whom I could intimidate with angry stares.
"See you later, Stan," I said to him.
Stan shrugged and headed on without me. Kenny and Cartman were already having some kind of lewd conversation on their way in.
"What do you want, Clyde?" I asked.
We walked together over to the edge of the yard while we spoke.
"Are you like... okay?" He asked.
"What are you talking about?" I asked.
"I'm a good person, Kyle," Clyde hissed, "If someone is being taken advantage of, I need to say something. If you don't talk to Mr. Mackey, I will."
I was astounded. Anywhere else, maybe, but people didn't pay much attention to that stuff in South Park. And what exactly was our incompetent school counselor going to do? Give Cartman a detention?
"Mr. Mackey," I said, eyebrows high, "Fuck off. Do you run to a teacher every time you see someone get punched in the hall?"
Clyde frowned. Obviously not.
"That's pretty different," He said.
"I saw Butters get a swirly last week," I said.
"Were you the only one?" He asked, wrinkling his nose.
Clyde either didn't buy it or didn't care. He was up on some high horse and wanted to feel good about himself. My bad luck he decided I was good hero practice.
I seethed for a moment, giving him another good glare. While he did fidget, maybe he was less of a coward then he'd been as a kid. He wasn't laying off.
"I'm not sure you noticed," I said, "But I've already taken care of it. Cartman and I are back to status quo. You know him, he just does stupid stuff like that."
"So you think he'll do it again?" Clyde asked.
Why did he take that out of what I said?
"No - I mean it was just the same old Cartman stuff he's always done," I said, "So I don't care. I'm over it."
Clyde closed his eyes. He seemed annoyed.
"You only think of the way things used to be," He said, "When's the last time someone launched a missile at us?"
I didn't get it. My face clearly showed that. Clyde sighed.
"Things are different now," He said, "We aren't kids anymore and that kinda crap isn't okay. You're treating it like no big deal when it is. You've hardly even grown, one way or the other."
My face starts turning red in anger. Who does Clyde think he is? We're not even that close. I don't think I've ever hung out with him one on one, only in the boys' group.
"Short jokes are a great way to get on my good side," I said with the sarcasm that comment deserved, "Being not a kid anymore is exactly what gives me the right to decide what to do about shit in my own life."
"Listen. Everyone knows you're naive and oblivious," Clyde said, "I mean that - I'm not sure you're aware of your reputation, but that's what everyone thinks of you."
"That," I said, "Is gaslighting."
"You're like a little kid sometimes," He went on, "So I feel like I'd be a bad person if I didn't do something about that thing with Cartman before it's too late."
"Everyone," I said, "Thinks they know what I should be doing. I'm too stressed, I need to prepare for college, I need to work out. I need new friends now too? Cause I'm just too stupid to deal with Cartman myself?"
I'm seeing red and getting carried away. I recognize it, but can't stop myself. Just a few insults and I can't keep my mouth shut.
"You're not stupid," Clyde says, "Just completely oblivious."
"Of what?" I exclaimed, "What the fuck do you think I'm oblivious of?"
"Stan's been in love with you since sixth grade," Clyde said, "For a start."
"We're best friends!" I said, "Why the fuck would we hide something like that if we were gay? No one messes with Tweek and Craig."
"I didn't say you guys were gay," Clyde said, "God, you're really dense."
The warning bell for class rung. We had five minutes to get our stuff and get to homeroom.
"Kenny draws creepy pictures of you," Clyde said, "Do you know that?"
"He isn't creepy," I said, "He draws pictures of everyone."
Though, mostly me.
"I wouldn't be surprised if Kenny turns into a stalker and Cartman - gets worse," Clyde said.
What, if he molests me? If Cartman rapes me? Is what he was going to say. Fuck off, Clyde.
"My friends aren't like that," I said, voice low.
"Did you forget him pinning you against the wall and holding you there?" He asked.
I'm pretty annoyed.
"Such a good person, Clyde," I spat, "Watched the whole thing."
I turned on my heel. If we didn't go right now, my new year's attendance record would already be shot. Clyde hurries along after me. His face is red now, too - I might have hit a nerve. Maybe that wasn't really fair of me. I wouldn't actually expect Clyde to intervene.
We burst into class and sit down just in time. Stan raises his eyebrows at me. He can tell something's made me angry by my expression. I hardly doubt that's unique to Stan, though. I'm an open book with that stuff.
I quietly keep my eye on Clyde through class. He's frowning and fidgeting. I think I might have really bothered him and I feel like of bad about it. But can't he understand I don't want to think about Cartman?
Ugh, and apparently everyone still thinks Stan and I are gay. I was pretty sure that rumor died years ago. Class goes on and I go on thinking. By the time it's over, I've cooled off considerably. Enough to feel guilty and realize I might be in the wrong here. When the bell rung, I approached Clyde while he packed his bag.
"I'm sorry, man," I said, "I shouldn't have really gotten so angry."
Clyde shook his head.
"'ss fine," He said, head in his hand and looking away from me, "I've been hating myself because I didn't do anything. That's why I'm on your ass about it, I guess."
"Don't," I said, "It was seconds - not like you had time to think."
He looked up at me, expression almost in pain, "It was a minute or two. And I thought to myself, 'do something' and didn't. And I don't know why."
I don't really know what to say. Well, it's no one's job to stop bullying. What, get beat up himself?
"Don't worry about it..."
"Well, I am!" Clyde says, suddenly loud again, slamming his palm onto his desk "And I'm gonna keep worrying about it until I do something!"
I'm a little startled and step back. Clyde packs his stuff quickly and hurries off. Kenny walks over to me while I get to gathering my own things back at my desk.
"What was that about?" He asked.
"I don't know," I said, "Clyde's decided he wants to make Cartman stop being such an ass, I guess. And I don't really wanna help."
Kenny chuckled, "We've gone down that road before."
I laughed a little with him. There's no making Cartman a better person.
While we walk, Kenny chats to me about Art Club. The piece he's been working on to show Mr. Carter is a self-portrait and Kenny hasn't done too many of those before.
I'm looking forward to seeing it. The incident with Clyde slips my mind for the time being and it's another ordinary Monday morning until lunchtime.
I sit in my usual spot - today I'm the first of my group to arrive.
I'm fairly surprised when the next arrival isn't Stan, Cartman, or Kenny. Instead, Craig of all people sits directly across from me. He sits at this table, but... not in that spot. That's where Kenny sits. Next to Cartman.
I'm cautious. Craig's an unusual case. He has a lot of get-up-and-go for someone who gives so few fucks. I mean, he isn't buff or crazy tall or anything. I guess there's just something frightening about teenagers who really don't give a shit.
"Hi," I say, casual.
"Clyde's freaking out," He said.
Direct and to the point. I like that. Hearing Clyde's name again just makes me sigh, though.
"Listen," I said, "I'm sorry about that, but-"
"No," Said Craig, nasal and dry in tone as ever, "You listen. Clyde is one of my friends. We're all friends, but there's layers. You've got your little group of weirdos and I've got mine. This, right here, is a problem. There's Stan's group and there's my group. I don't give a shit about you, Kyle, but Clyde ranks just below Tweek in the scale of people I can be bothered to care about."
"Thanks," I said.
"So here's what's gonna happen," Craig says, "You're gonna tell off Cartman - or you're gonna pretend to - and then you're gonna say to my friend - 'thank you, Clyde, after you talked to me, I actually understood, and I changed my mind, and you're right, that's not okay, you saved me, Clyde, good job, Clyde'. I think you understand?"
"I understand," I said, nodding in sarcastic earnestness, "That's a good plan. Thank you, Craig."
Craig flipped me off and slid down the table to his usual seat.
Kenny arrived shortly. Stan and Cartman soon after.
After he sat down, Kenny resumed talking to me about Art Club. It's an easy topic to fall into since he's so interested in it. I don't have much to say, but I'm able to give pretty simple replies and keep him talking. I think it's good Kenny is passionate about this.
"He's bored," Cartman interjected, smirking down at his food.
Kenny paused for a moment, but then continued. No one's going to ask Cartman 'who's bored?' so he can start whatever monologue he's planning. It is best to ignore Cartman when he's being deliberately inflammatory.
Cartman yawned and stretched, getting into Kenny's personal space. Careful, Cartman, I'm pretty sure Kenny is the only person here who actually likes you.
"Kahl is clearly bored out of his skull, Kinny," Cartman said, "We all are, so maybe stop going on about yourself for at least a few minutes. Your mastery of shading isn't really interesting to the plebs."
If Cartman had said that to me, I'd probably be closing my hands into fists and turning red. As it is, I narrow my eyes on Kenny's behalf.
But Kenny himself only shrugs, so I don't say anything either.
"What do you wanna talk about, fat-ass?" Stan asked.
Don't encourage him, Stan.
"Annie Knitts is having a party this weekend," Cartman said, "Her parents are out of town for a week. There's gonna be booze."
I suppose that's something. It's been a while since everyone got stupid. And Annie's usually been slightly more straitlaced than someone like Bebe, for example.
"Is that all?" I asked, "If it's Annie, we're already invited through Stan and you show up anyway regardless."
I understand girl politics. Bebe is Annie's friend and Annie's gonna want Bebe there, but if she invites Bebe, she has to invite Wendy, since Wendy is Bebe's best friend. If Wendy's invited, then Stan's invited, even if they aren't steady right now. If Stan's invited, then I'm invited. If you're inviting two members of our group, you might as well get the rest in too. It's how parties blossom out of control.
"Well, this one's special," Cartman said, "She wants everyone to have a date. It's one of those parties with dancing and everything. She's serious about it."
Hmm. Well, I don't really care. I care about getting my hands on liquor about as much as the next underage high school student and that's not quite enough to be bothered to ask a girl out.
"Prepare yourself, Stan," Kenny teases, "You're going to need to ask Wendy out ASAP or she'll get pissed at you."
Stan blushes and looks away. It's cute how much he likes her, even if they're not always together.
"Well, I don't know..." He says.
"The point is for the rest of us, Kinny," Cartman says, "All three of us are single and that's a problem."
Kenny nods. He's eager for Cartman's solution.
"It's been a drought lately for me," He says.
Cartman pats his back, a sympathetic look on his face. I roll my eyes at them.
"Well, now's our chance," He says, "Red's single right now again. She and Kevin just broke up. He shit himself last week, isn't that crazy?"
I suspect Cartman.
"What?" Kenny is ecstatic, "Awesome!"
"Yeah, it sure is, isn't it?" Cartman says.
I don't know how Kenny doesn't see through him. I don't know just what Cartman is trying to pull right now, but he's definitely pulling something.
Kenny and Red have been together before. Kevin, I thought she might be serious about. The dude seems boring, but solid.
"You'll be asking Heidi, I assume?" I ask, "Or begging, more like."
Cartman shakes his head, "Me and Heidi are done for good. She's too controlling, man."
Sure. Cartman makes my blood boil. Heidi was nice, once. I don't think I'll ever be able to trust her, though. She's too much like Cartman.
"I'm kinda over Wendy, too," Stan says quietly.
"What?" I asked, turning my head to face him directly, "No way. What did you guys fight about?"
Stan seemed sad.
"Nothing, actually," He said, "I'm just not into her anymore. I mean, we're still friends, but..."
"Suuuure," Said Cartman, "You'll be back in her arms by the time the parties over no matter who you go with. We've done this before."
Stan doesn't seem annoyed. He just shakes his head again and gives a half smile. Oh, no. I think something must have happened between them. There's no way Stan could just lose his affection in Wendy. They've been sweethearts since elementary school! And Stan hasn't said a word about this until now. Am I a bad friend? This must be why he's been frowning sometimes lately. I am a bad friend.
"Pretty sure Bebe's still into you, man," Kenny said, trying to make things better.
Bebe isn't going to date her best friend's ex if Wendy's still so close to him. Girl rules and boy rules aren't that different.
"Who cares about some stupid party, anyway," I say, "I'd much rather spend the weekend with running, studying, and video games."
I nudge Stan's shoulder with mine. He nods, it's a yes to hanging out and getting over dumb girlfriends.
"Running?" Cartman asked.
He seems bothered by that. Cartman rarely exercises. Ha, he's probably being insecure about it. A crab in a bucket, but he's the only crab.
"Stan and I go running on the weekend now," I said, a little proud.
I mean, I've only actually exercised with him twice, but I think that counts. Cartman definitely seems annoyed.
"Of course you do," He said, rolling his eyes.
"Cool," Said Kenny, shrugging.
"You honestly want to spend the weekend exercising and studying instead of drinking and hanging out with girls," Cartman said to me, "It's no wonder you're a virgin, Kahl."
I bristle. Well, I can't really rise to his taunt even if I wanted to. I am a virgin. Probably the only one at this table. Loose morals are common in South Park.
"This party could be your chance to get laid," Cartman said, "Every girl buzzing, half of them white girl drunk, almost as many girls as boys. And you'd rather mope at home with your boyfriend."
"Why do you care?" I asked.
I've learned by now Cartman always has an ulterior motive.
"You're my friend, Kahl," Cartman said.
"I am not," I responded.
But Cartman only smirks.
"It's not like you're going either," Stan said, "If Annie's serious about dates. There's not a girl in school anymore who'd go out with you."
Cartman waves his hand, "Oh, that's easy. It's not like we need to get a real date. Stan will ask Wendy - you know he will. 'Just as friends,' and then they'll end up making out hardcore in the corner. Kenny will ask Red. Slut'll put out for anyone, especially some artsy bitch. You and me will pretend date and once we get in, we can go our separate ways."
"Oh, fuck off!" I exclaim, "That's what it is. You know you won't get a girl to go with you, but you still think if you get in that party you can get laid. Somehow. Why should I have to go with you?"
"It's obvious, Kahl," Cartman said, noticing my irritation with the word obvious, "Everyone knows you're gay. It's not like they'd believe me if I went with Jimmy."
"Oh, shut up, Cartman," I said.
He already knows he can't convince me of this. It's all to lead the conversation to teasing me.
"It's been nothing but gay jokes recently," I said, "And -"
I remember my conversation with Craig. In fact, he's subtly watching me from down the table instead of having his own conversation with his mates. Yeah, sure, now as good as ever.
"I'm not okay with it," I said quite loudly, "In fact, I really want you to fuck off with that stuff. You've been weird lately in ways I am decidedly not comfortable with. Stop. So there."
I spare a quick glance at Craig. He flips me off. I don't really know what that means, given it's Craig.
"What?" Stan asked.
The bell rung, signaling the end of lunch period.
"Exactly that," I said to Stan.
Now I just have to suck up to Clyde a little and my problems will be resolved. I had been feeling guilty about yelling at him, so now I can feel better.
"Your acting is terrible," Craig says to me - out of nowhere, he's right over my shoulder in the hall.
Moves more silently than a cat, it's creepy.
"Good enough for government work, good enough for me," I said.
"And Clyde heard you too, so good enough for me," Craig said, "But what exactly did Cartman do anyway? Cause now I'm curious."
He didn't know? I would have thought Clyde would have blabbed to him. If he's keeping it vague, I guess he's more trustworthy than I thought.
"Ask Clyde," I said.
The school day keeps progressing as normal. Some things are better - I shouldn't have to worry about Clyde or Craig - but apparently something's going on with Stan I need to get to the bottom of. It's Monday, so I don't think I should wait until the weekend. But not tonight either, I have Art Club and I don't really want to give it up. I don't think that makes me completely terrible.
Art Club is good. Relaxing and tranquil. Kenny's self portrait is amazing, too, and I make sure to let him know. He beams at me even more than at the teacher.
"You should start painting again," Mr. Carter tells Kenny, "When you have the spare time."
Painting, Kenny explains to me, is more time-consuming for him and impossible to do during class, like he can with drawing. So he doesn't paint often. But I'd like to see him paint sometime and let him know.
Kenny is thoughtful for a moment.
"Want to hang out for a while?" He asked, "I could show you."
"Your house?" I ask back.
"Yeah," He says.
Sure. So I text Mom and walk past my house and onward to Kenny's. It's not too far. We do get off on the same stop, after all. It's really been a long time since I was over at Kenny's. It's not fair to him, but I have to admit it's not as nice to hang out here. It's dirty and everything is broken. His parents fighting makes me uncomfortable. But his jerk older brother has moved out now, so that's something.
Kenny's sister is drawing in their shared room herself. She has a pack of colored pencils. I wonder if art runs in the family or if she just wants to be like her brother. Given how much Karen idolizes Kenny, it's probably the second.
"Hey, Karen," I greet while we take our shoes off at the closet.
"Kyle!" She cries out cheerfully.
She jumps up from the floor and runs over to us, hugging me around my middle. I squeeze her shoulders. Gosh, she's short for her age! Good to know not every child in this town is six feet tall.
"I haven't seen you in forever!" She says.
"Yeah, no kidding," I said, "You're so tall now!"
"I'm in middle school now," She says.
She seems a little childish for how old she must be. I don't mind, though. Karen's the least bratty kid I've met.
"Want to watch me paint?" Kenny asked her.
Kenny has me sit down in the center of the room and sits down across from me. His sister takes her drawing and pencils over and sits by his side. She loves him and it's very cute.
He said he'd show me his painting and I'm not sure how he plans to do that while painting me, but it's only Monday, I don't have a lot of homework yet. It's good to hang out just with Kenny from time to time too. It really has been too long.
He doesn't have an easel or canvass or anything, but he has a can full of brushes and a bundle of half-used oil paints.
"You just jump into painting?" I asked.
Kenny shook his head.
"I've got a half-finished sketch I can start on," He said.
"Are you very good?" I asked.
"Nope!" He laughed, "I'm great at drawing, but still shit at painting."
I open my mouth, but close it. I don't want to interrogate him.
I really wonder what Kenny wants to do with his life. Does he want to be a artist or does he just enjoy it? Stan and Cartman and I all have some idea. Stan's pretty much guaranteed a scholarship in football. He says he'll decide his major in college. It's the same for Cartman and me. But Kenny won't be going to college.
What's going to happen when we're all split up?
"What are you frowning at?" He asked.
Oh, I didn't mean to frown.
"Nothing," I said.
He raised an eyebrow.
"Well," I said, shrugged.
Karen is here. It feels like it would be awkward to start talking about deep stuff like that.
She's busy drawing something bright purple.
Kenny pauses. He's waiting for me.
"Are you... going to be a painter?" I asked.
Kenny shrugged.
"I don't know," He said, "I'm not really good at it. I like drawing a lot more than painting anyway. I haven't really decided what I want to do. But hey, we've got almost two years."
Right.
"It's fine," Kenny said.
He looked at me meaningfully. I must have still been frowning. I smiled at him.
It's fine. Who knows where the future will go. It's not like I'll never see him again when we graduate. In fact, Kenny might just always be in South Park. But that's not actually a very happey thought. I frown again.
"What's up?" He asked.
Hardly any time has passed. It's difficult to hide your momentary expressions when someone is staring at you.
"Just thinking about graduation," I said.
"You always think too much," Kenny admonished softly.
I wonder if that's true.
It's really peaceful here, despite the mess. Karen's pencils scratch quietly on her paper. She shows it to us when she's done - a very cool purple dragon - and starts on a new one.
"I don't know why Kenny loves drawing people so much," Karen said, "When you could draw cool things instead."
"I still draw dragons from time to time," Kenny said, looking over at her.
"Hardly ever," Karen said, giggling, "You like drawing Kyle."
Everyone knows about that, then. I sigh and smile. Maybe I am slow on the uptake.
I'm not sure how much time passes. At some point, we take a break and Kenny gets us pop tarts from the kitchen. I don't think his parents can be relied on to make dinner. Being at Kenny's is kind of depressing, even if I like spending time with him.
He finishes the painting. Or at least, the base of it. He says he might add more detail later.
It's good, I think. Not as attractive as his bare drawings, but good and his talent from drawing is reflected here too. Kenny's too harsh on himself. He should know that.
"It's really good," I said.
"I can show it to Mr. Carter, then," He said.
Kenny paused for a moment, then looked at me.
"I don't know what I want to do," He said, "Art isn't an easy field to find work in and I... can't really rely on anyone else. But I think I do want to be serious about it."
I smile at him, "So you should paint more often instead of just drawing in class."
He smiled back.
It was a fine way to spend an evening. He tears the page off of his notebook - it's not the right kind of paper for paint, it's kind of wrinkled. He puts it in a drawer. There's a painting of me in there - no surprise - with a strange, unhappy expression.
I think about it while I walk home. When could I have possibly looked that lonely?
The next day, I planned to talk to Stan before class, but Craig forcefully bumped my shoulder with his and started shoving me down the hallway. I really can't catch a break.
"I thought we were cool," I whined.
"We were cool," He hissed, "When you'd just upset Clyde. Now, my boyfriend is upset. And that makes me upset, Kyle."
"What did I do?" I asked.
"Well, he had to know what you'd gotten all weird about with Cartman. The whole table heard and your weirdo acting isn't exactly subtle. By the way, I was wrong, Clyde wasn't convinced - now he's pissed at me."
Craig is very angry. I feel like I've made a terrible mistake.
"They think I bullied you into that," He said.
"You... kind of did," I replied, raising an eyebrow.
He scowls at me. I grimace. Oh, that's what it feels like to be on the receiving end. I'm sorry, Clyde.
"Point is," Craig said, "After everything, I think whatever actually happened has become hugely exaggerated. You are part of our peripheral friend group, so I guess we have some responsibility here. Or at least," He sighed, "Tweek feels that way."
He scowls at me again. I wonder if he's in the doghouse. That would explain why he's so mad at me.
I don't want to be late for class.
"So..." I said, "How are we going to resolve this?"
"We're going to get you to stop being such an idiot and understand your three best friends are total creeps. Like a retard's the birds and the bees."
"I do get that," I say, "Not total creeps, but... weirdos."
"No," Craig said, getting up in my face, "This is clearly something you're not going to get without outside intervention."
"Okay, okay," I say, holding up my hands, "Lunchtime?"
"After school," He says.
He doesn't really tell me where to meet, but sure. That's fine.
It's definitely unusual for me to be almost late two days in a row, but at least I'm not actually late.
Stan is obviously concerned. I smile and shrug at him. No, Craig was not bullying me in the hallway just now. Not really, anyway. Just being good old somewhat abrasive Craig.
Tweek is staring at me. Something over the top is going through his head. Tweek is less potent than he was when we were kids, but he still is most certainly the kind of person to grab hold of an idea and blow it out of proportion. I don't have any doubt that whatever has Craig's little gang so upset is centered around him.
I like Tweek - a whole lot actually, he's nice. I think being around him all the time might be a little tiring, though. Not as bad as Cartman, but a little tiring.
"Why are you hanging out with Craig's group so much lately?" Stan asked me in the hallway.
"'Lately' being the last two days – in the morning?" I tease him.
He doesn't fire back, just waits for a response.
I shake my head.
"It's nothing. Tweek is worked up about something and they want me to help."
Stan seems satisfied with this.
The day goes normally. At lunchtime, Annie comes over to our table, posse in tow, and invites us to her special party. Well, invites Stan, mostly, but we're given a courtesy notice.
After school, Craig practically frogmarched me to the student parking lot. His little group is standing around Token's car.
"Am I being detained?" I teased.
No one smiles.
"Clyde told us Cartman's been harassing you, Kyle!" Tweek squeaks.
"He's done that since we were kids, Tweek," I say, "It's no big deal."
I forget, that's always the wrong thing to say to Tweek.
"It is a big deal!" Tweek exclaimed, jumping and flailing.
"I was there with you in Debate Club," Token said, "He's definitely different lately."
"Do I really need an intervention on this?" I asked.
All five of them - Craig, Tweek, Clyde, Jimmy, and Token - responded in the affirmative.
"Oh my god," I said, covering my face and rubbing my eyes.
"You're about as v-v-v-virgin as it gets, Kyle," Jimmy said.
"Naive, oblivious," Clyde said.
"Can we get to the point?" I asked.
"All three of them are taking advantage of you," Token said, "It's 'taking advantage' of you because you don't get why."
I cross my arms.
"Stan br-br-br-breaks up with Wendy all the time because he's afraid to be gay," Jimmy said.
"You think my best friend is gay for me?" I asked.
My tone was flat, because I was in disbelief.
"It's obvious," Said Craig.
I'm starting to really hate the word obvious. Token cringes a bit, knowing why.
"And going off what you said earlier - Kenny too?" I asked.
"His notebook is full of sketches of you," Tweek said, wringing his hands, "He's gonna start selling revenge porn!"
"The pictures Kenny draws of me are hardly porn," I said.
"You've only seen his school notebook," Craig said pointedly, "Haven't you?"
"K-kenny draws some pr-pr-pretty good stuff," Jimmy said.
I remember this. It was quite a while ago - some looping years, I'm sure. Kenny used to draw porn and sell it. The teachers found out and he got in huge trouble. It was an especially big deal because he was drawing some of the girls in our class. A consent issue and a legal issue. But I know he doesn't do that anymore.
"He wouldn't draw something creepy like that," I protested, "He just draws faces."
"Like I said," Craig said, "Look in his other notebook. We all know he still draws lewds and I'd bet fifty bucks he draws a whole lot of you."
Gross. Don't make me think gross things, Craig.
"But the bigger deal is still Cartman," Clyde said, "Him holding you against the wall and kissing you."
"Don't - talk about that," I said, looking away.
It's too embarrassing with everyone watching.
"It's not a secret anymore, dude," Craig said, listless.
"It's why he wants you at the party!" Tweek spouted, "He's going to get you drunk and molest you! You're so tiny it's only gonna take two drinks! Or he might drug you! And he'll take you out behind the shed and do horrible things!"
Don't make fun of me for being small, Tweek. You're hardly that much taller.
"If Cartman got me drunk, I think he'd probably draw on my face and take embarrassing pictures," I said, "And I'm not going to get drunk. I won't even be at that party, so don't worry about it."
"He kissed you to embarrass you, right?" Craig said, "So... he totally wouldn't do other awful things to embarrass you, right? Because Cartman totally has standards, he's got boundaries he won't cross?"
I can't think of anything to say. That's a really good point and I hate it.
"But I won't be alone with him again," I said quietly after a moment, "I can take care of myself."
"You shouldn't have to," Said Clyde, frowning and knitting his eyebrows. He looks away from me.
"Please tell me you aren't still feeling guilty about that," I said.
Clyde shrugs. Great. That means I have to feel guilty too, Clyde, you asshole.
How do rumors like these start, anyway?
"Well?" I ask, moving on, "What's so bad about Stan? You said they're all taking advantage of me, didn't you?"
"He really is in love with you," Token said.
"I don't really get why you think that," I said, "We're just best friends. I trust Stan, more than anyone. He'd tell me if he liked me and we'd talk it out and get over it."
"The fact that you trust him 'more than anyone' is what makes it 'taking advantage of you'." Craig said.
I don't really get it. According to them, Kenny draws porn or me, Cartman's willing to do terrible things. But apparently if Stan just liked me, that would be 'taking advantage of me'?
"It's about the trust," Said Jimmy, "Wouldn't be so bad if you didn't act like a puppy about him."
"Liking someone who trusts you not to - and they don't say anything - something about that is really cruel." Tweek said.
I'm silent for a moment, thinking.
"Isn't that how you guys got together?" I asked, "You and Craig. You said your relationship was fake for a long time and then you felt something. Isn't that right?"
"That's right," Said Craig, "Great memory, class leader.
I don't get it. I don't get any of it, actually.
"Why do even care?" I suddenly exlaimed, "Why does anyone care? Why is everyone - on my back - all the time now! Everyone wants me to change! Why does everything have to change?"
It only hits me when I say it out loud. It hits me like an arrow in the chest or maybe a mace. I did this. Always, always thinking to myself what's changed about everyone. So-and-so is taller than in fourth grade... so-and-so is still this or that...
If the theory I had about time is true, I did this. Because I can't stop thinking about how nothing changes.
Was childhood all that bad? I can't go back. I want us to be ignorant about sex again. I wish we all still played superheroes together. I miss when Ike wasn't taller than me. I miss when everyone wasn't taller than me.
Clyde was right. I haven't changed, one way or the other.
I miss when we were kids.
"I get it," I say quietly.
I startled everyone with my outburst. No one speaks, just looks at me.
"I don't agree with everything, but maybe I am naive. I'll look into it. Figure something out. Thanks, I guess."
"No problem," Says Token, "Everyone needs an intervention from time to time.
"Coffee?" Someone says.
There's a round of 'sure' one of which is mine. We all load into Token's car - lucky sod - and head for Tweek's parent's shop.
I haven't hung out with this crew for a while. We were all such good friends when we were kids. I guess that's why they still care about me. Now at lunch time we split into two groups. Me, Stan, Kenny, and Cartman. Craig, Tweek, Token, Clyde, and Jimmy.
"Sorry," I say to the quiet van.
"Don't worry about it," Jimmy says.
"Just don't get yourself raped or I'll have a heart attack," Tweek said.
That's not funny - like, at all - but I guess we're pretty nasty people, because we laugh. It's light-hearted again and we chat about what we've been up to. Clyde's super into Bebe, but he can't work up the courage to ask her to Annie's party. Token says he's sick of always getting stuck with Nicole just because she's the only other black student. We're all pretty sure that's not why they're together, but sure, say so. Jimmy says he's lucky, because he keeps getting set up with Lisa Berger. And that's a good, mean-spirited laugh.
I'm an asshole. All my friends are assholes. I kind of missed this. We drink coffee and eat pastries.
Am I really that naive? That absolutely everyone thinks so?
Token drives everyone home. Craig is apparently staying over with Tweek - they're so blatant. I'm last in the car with him. It's quiet, so I talk.
"You guys do that a lot?" I asked.
Coffee, I mean, and he gets that.
"Pretty often," He said.
I nodded.
I'd like my group to do that. It's been one-on-one lately. And I thought that was nice, but maybe both would be better.
"Come with us next time," Token said.
Well, that would be nice, too. I smile and feel content.
I don't know why they don't hate me.
"Oh!" Token exclaims, twisting around in his seat to look at me, "Would you ask out Nicole? I'm certain she's still into you!"
Token wants to get off the hook for dating Nicole. And sure, she's really cute. Deal, I'll ask out your ex for you, Token. Now I've probably got a date to the party, too. Not a bad afternoon.
Despite that, I have trouble sleeping. I need to do some thinking. I think myself in circles all night, thinking from one friend to the next and all the things I've lost with childhood.
Wednesday morning, I've decided to pay more attention.
We bullshit waiting for the bus. We bullshit on the bus. We bullshit before class. Nothing seems weird. But I guess I have a low bar for weirdness.
At lunch, I sit in my usual spot. Kenny, who brings his lunch like me, is already at the table. I make sure to look down along it. Token's here too.
I wouldn't usually pay attention to that. I talk to mine and Craig's group to theirs.
"Have you found a date yet?" I ask him, sliding down the bench a little so we can talk.
"Is Heidi single right now?" He asked.
"As far as I know," I said.
"I think I'll ask her," He says, "You ask Nicole yet?"
I shake my head. I haven't gotten a chance to.
Stan arrives with his tray, so I lift my hand at Token and slide back to my spot so Stan can sit where he always does. I guess I don't have to. He could have sat where I usually sit, at the very end. I wonder if there's any way to make the two groups one again.
"You're asking out Nicole?" Kenny asked me.
Stan chokes on his drink. Is he surprised I'm asking someone out? Surprised I'm going to the party? Surprised it's Nicole?
"Yes," I say, without hesitation.
"Isn't she Token's girlfriend?" Stan asks.
"Not anymore," I say, "And Token's cool with me asking her out."
Stan seems perturbed. I am, after all, very obviously asking out a mate's ex, which is strange without permission. Still... Strike 1, Stan.
I watch him as subtly as I can.
Of course Stan isn't into me. I just need to find the proof.
"Red said she'll go with me," Kenny says, "So I might get laid."
I nod. Cartman heads over.
"Do you still draw porn?" I ask Kenny.
Stan spits crumbs from his bagel.
"What?" Kenny asks, "No, dude. Tasteful nudes, I mean, but not porn."
"Yeah, right," Cartman said, "Kinny, I know you still draw porn 'cause you still empty my wallet for it."
Strike 1, Kenny. I narrowed my eyes at him.
He laughed awkwardly and scratched the back of his head, "Some porn, definitely an amount. I don't really wanna talk about it in public, though."
"I thought you quit that shit," Stan said.
"I'm not circulating pictures of our classmates or anything," Kenny said, "I... figured out why that was wrong. But listen, let's talk something else."
"Cartman," I say, "You'd better ask out Heidi fast. Token's going to ask her first if you don't."
"What?" He asks, "Why would I give a shit? I don't need her for booze. Don't tell me you've already given up on our plan, Kahl."
"I'm planning to ask a girl out," I said, ignoring how he called his dumb scheme 'our' plan.
Cartman scoffs.
"Midget ginger Jew like you? Good luck with that," He said.
"Thanks," I said simply and stood up, "Do you guys see Nicole or is she not here yet?"
Cartman sputters.
"You're not actually asking out Nicole - she's Token's, Kahl!"
"They broke up," I replied, scanning the girls' table for Nicole.
"You can't ask someone out just - in public like that," Cartman continues, "And she's still Token's - they belong together, obviously."
Racist git.
"Stop saying obviously!" I snapped.
And I hate that fucking word!
"Hard not to," He said, "When the solution is obvious. You're going to embarrass yourself, she's going to say no, all of the girls will see, none of them will ever date you, you'll never get laid!"
"Go for it, Kyle," Kenny said, "She just came in the West door with Ester."
Back to 0, Kenny, good job. I nod at him and turn towards that entrance.
"Wanna make a bet?" Cartman asked me, standing and getting in my way. When he squares his shoulders, he's too wide to slip past in the aisle.
"What?" I asked, irritated.
"If she does reject you - which she will - you go with me so I can get into that party."
He's staring down at me again, a fat shadow over my vision, blocking my path and my sight. A fat shadow over my life.
"And you'll fuck off for Debate Club. Deal," I say, giving him my hand to shake.
Stan face-palms. Cartman and I shake and he lets me walk around him.
Strike 1, Cartman.
I call out to Nicole before she sits down. She turns around at her name.
"Can we talk for a minute?" I ask.
She shares a look with her friend. Ester smiles and tilts her head, then goes and sits down. Silent communication. It kind of reminds me of the way Stan and I act.
The two of us walk just outside the cafeteria. It's quiet out here. Oh, gosh, now that I'm actually doing this, I'm a little dry-mouthed. I got so caught up in my investigations, I forgot I had an actual girl to ask out here. Still, I've never been all that nervous with girls.
"You know Annie's having that party Saturday," I said.
Nicole tucks a curl behind her ear and smiles at me.
"Yeah?" She asked.
Okay, so far so good.
"Well, I was wondering..." I start.
Spit it out. Why must I fuck everything up. If I have to go to that party with Cartman after all, I think I'll kill myself. Nicole leans a little forward. She's taller than I am (of course) but not by too much.
"I'd love to," She says, only the tiniest bit flushing.
As for me, my face is red from something other than anger for once. I break out in a grin.
"Awesome!" I say, maybe a little too loud, "I'll, uh, meet you there, then?"
"I could borrow my Mom's car," She says, "I'll pick you up. Like, eight?"
"Sweet," I say and nod.
She giggles and heads back inside. The girl is far more confident than I am, but that's good. Nicole is really pretty and as far as know, free of drama.
I remember when Stan was first crushing on Wendy, trying to talk to her. He'd get so nervous he'd puke.
Nicole's already telling her friends. They're all giggling at each other and turn to look at me, pointing, giggling some more. Girl gossip is equivalent to guy talk, we just make different sounds. I walked back to my table. Token nods at me.
"Looks like it went well," Kenny said, grinning at me and giving me his fist to bump.
Cartman scowls and crosses his arms. But I'm not really worried about him.
Stan is weirdly pale. His face is blank and he's staring at his food. I sit down and he doesn't look up.
"Everything cool?" I asked him.
He smiled unconvincingly.
"I'm fine," He started to say, but didn't make it all the way through 'fine'.
That's because he turned and vomited on me. I'd call that Strike 2.
"Oh, my god!" I exclaimed, jumping backwards and falling over the bench. I land on my butt pretty painfully.
"Aw, rank, dude!" Kenny shouts, leaning away from the table.
"I'm so sorry!" Stan says.
I threw myself back with such violence, I'm now on the floor, with both face and jacket covered in very fresh puke. I go a little pale myself, but I'm not losing my stomach.
"It's fine," I say, "I'm going to go change though."
Cartman is laughing his ass off.
"I'm so sorry," Stan says again, helping me up.
I wipe the worst off my face with my sleeve. Ugh, god. Stan's got vomit on his jacket too, so we head for the locker room together, trying not to get any worse.
"I-I think I had too much to eat," He said.
"It's fine," I said, "Don't worry about it."
He wouldn't exactly do something that embarrassing on purpose. The whole cafeteria stared us down. Lot's of laughing assholes and grossed out girls.
Stan keeps going on, though.
"I guess I'm still kind of upset about Wendy. I like her and she likes me - but - it's dishonest, you know?"
No, I don't know. I shake my head. He doesn't notice. He's babbling.
"I got the feeling a lot that she liked me more than I liked her. It was different when we were kids and... y'know, sex wasn't really a thing. But then, well, it's all different now. And I like her, but... sometimes, it wasn't very good... and then Wendy would feel bad. And I'd feel bad, because she did and she shouldn't feel bad."
"I don't really know what you're talking about," I told him, "You're really not making any sense."
"I'm sorry," Stan said.
I sighed and shook my head, "Like I said, it's fine. Let's just talk after we clean up, okay? You can calm down a little from whatever's going on."
I fetch my gym clothes from my locker, careful not to get them dirty. I have to touch my jacket to take it off. Rank is right, it's horrible. I leave it in the sink to wash after I've cleaned myself off.
Stan does much the same, but ends up taking the longest shower I've ever known. We've only got cold water in the locker room, so I don't think he's having a good time in there. I wonder if he just hopes I'll leave before he has to get out. I wash the worst of the puke off our clothes in the mean time and leave them hanging up over the curtain rods.
By the time Stan's finally done, class has started again. Still, I wait for him. I think I'm allowed a tardy for being puked on.
Stan is still sheepish and pale when he comes out of the shower. I don't know why, but it feels strange to just hang out in your gym clothes instead of doing gym class. I guess we're lucky, too, that this is coach's free period and there's no one here to rush us out. We sit on a bench together for a little while.
"Do you need to go to the nurse's office?" I asked him.
"No," He said, "I'm good now."
It is a relief.
"That's good," I said.
I smiled at him, trying to make my friend feel better. He smiled back, but it didn't really reach his eyes.
"I got your hat too, huh?" He said.
"Yeah," I said, shrugging, "I mean, you did vomit down on me."
"I'm sorry," He said.
I shake my head. He really doesn't get it.
"I said it's fine," I said, "I'm not going to be angry with you for getting sick."
"I know that," He says, "But you hate it when people see your hair."
"Not you," I said.
That made him smile for real. A gentle smile at me, something warm and content. Good. I'm glad I can still do that. It was almost nice to sit in the quiet for a little while. Maybe not worth being puked on, but nice.
"We should get back to class," I said.
He nodded.
"Here," Stan said, "You can borrow mine for today."
I feel him press his hat down on my head. It's stretchy enough to tuck all my loose hair up under.
"Thanks," I laughed.
"No problem," He said, shrugging.
We walk back to the cafeteria together. Our stuff should still be there.
"So, earlier. What's going on with Wendy?" I asked.
"Well..." He said, "It wasn't working out. I think we'll always be friends, but we can't be together like we used to. I'm different now, I think."
Different. Because he changed. That's a little bittersweet.
"We're still best friends, right?"
He stops walking to look at me. I stop and stare up at him. I don't know why I asked that. I didn't think about it at all. It was more like my mouth just moved. Like when you're tired and relaxed laying in the sun and instead of trying to sleep, it just finds you and your eyes close, but you don't mean to close them. It's not something I should ask because there isn't really an answer for that. There's nothing to be said. He's not going to say 'I secretly hate you'. There's no one he's closer to.
But things have been weird. So my body just asked without me.
"Of course," He said, "Always have been, always will be."
It's so adamant, so heartfelt. And even without my jacket, I feel so warm. There's no way I couldn't believe that. Maybe Craig's gang is right about Kenny and Cartman are predators in some capacity. I'll keep investigating that. But there's no way Stan would hide something like a crush away from me. We're best friends, after all.
He ruffles my hair.
Whatever butterflies linger in my gut are just happiness.
Yet.
My mind strays back to a thought I've had before. If someone like Stan lied to me, it certainly would be terrifying. He's the person I trust most in the world.
((AN: Thank you so much to all the kind reviewers. I wasn't expecting such encouraging feedback. I'm incredibly happy. I really feel more comfortable with my writing now. I'm sorry for being such a mope before, I was convinced no one would like my stories yet since I still have so far to go. Thank you especially to Elle and Daynam10. I'm really happy my cliches aren't too annoying, though in the next story I write, I certainly will still try to be more original and interesting. I hope to learn a lot about writing and earn properly that kindness in your reviews.
Thank you to everyone for reading. I fear this chapter may not be up to the others. I was really eager to write again. I also haven't devoted equal space to each character in this chapter, but the ones more left behind will get more attention next chapter. There should be three or perhaps four chapters left for this story. If any particular shippers are interested, I certainly will include more moments with Kenny and Cartman, but will probably be going with an ending with Stan.
As before, I'm most eager for advice and criticism. If you do chose to review, thank you very much.))