p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"strongChapter 8/strong/p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;"January 19supth/sup/p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;"Eric had done a mighty good job of avoiding the redhead for the rest of the week. But come Friday, Kyle was making it damn near impossible to avoid him. When Eric turned the corner to get to his locker, Kyle was waiting right beside it. When Eric excused himself from class, Kyle wasn't far behind him. It was as if the brunette had gotten into pandora's box./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;"The worst part was that Kyle never pushed. He never started a conversation. Hell, the ginger jew didn't even so much as greet the brunette whenever they'd bump into each other. And Eric Cartman, for once, was absolutely okay with it./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;"What he wasn't okay with were the glances he got from Wendy. It was like she knew something that he didn't. Or that she had some profound knowledge of his psych. Obviously, Kyle had talked to her. The black haired bitch was the only other person the school recognized as being on the same level with Kyle. Cartman didn't even blame him. Stan probably would have freaked out of Kyle had gone to him instead, and then the whole school would know. At least with Wendy, there was some semblance of silence. She knew when to keep her mouth shut, and when to keep a secret a secret./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;"Lunch was when it had all gone to hell in a hand basket./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;"Eric had seperated himself from his group, as he had been doing the past three weeks or so. Thus, he hadn't been expecting Kenny and the vuluptuous Bebe to sit across from him. He didn't expect for Bebe to look at him as if his world had crashed. He didn't expect Kenny to look as guilty as a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;""I swear to Hitler, Kenny...If you told them..." Cartman seethed as he watched the blonde's shoulders slump forward. "Fucking hell..."/p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;""Be nice," Bebe hummed lacing her fingers together. "You haven't exactly been inconspicuous yourself."/p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;""Big word for you, ain't it big tits?" Cartman growled rubbing a hand down his face. It was so easy to put on the mask of the asshole. Be mean, and they'll leave him alone. Say crude things and they'll let him wallow. Insult Bebe, and she'll call Kenny a liar and stomp off. He'd be left alone, and wouldn't have to deal with the shit that was blowing up./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;""Dude," Kenny squeaked slamming the toe of his shoe into Cartman's shin. The brunette hissed jerking his leg back. The glare he leveled on his supposed friend would have almost been enough to send even Kyle scampering./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;""First off, Kenny didn't tell me anything. I guessed it all, sweety." Bebe flipped her curls over her shoulder as she arched her over preened brow. "And you didn't account for Kyle." She jerked her head over to the redhead who looked almost as miserable as Eric himself./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;""Fuck," Eric sighed dropping his head into his hands. "What do you want?"/p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;""I just want to know what happened," Bebe smiled softly at him. "Eric, you don't usually do things like that. Besides," Her elbow nudged Kenny's side softly. "I've been told by a certain little bird, that maybe you're not as bad as the rest of us think."/p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;""Nope," Eric shook his head standing from his chair. "No." He leveled a glare at Kenny, then turned to Bebe. "We are not having this conversation. I am Eric fucking Cartman. You all hate me, and I hate you all. That's fine. That's who I am."/p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;""That isn't who you are though," Bebe stood from her own seating. She was going to follow him, and make sure that he knew that he had people on his side. "Not from what I've been told. Kenny told me about the party...that you didn't drug Kyle. You found him and saved him from making some dumb decisions."/p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;""I'm not his guardian angel. I just wanted to be the one to make him miserable. Why would I give someone else that opportunity?"/p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;""Why would you stop him from making himself miserable? Why would you get Kenny and get him out of that house instead of letting him make his mistakes?" Bebe followed him as he marched to the garbage can. "You could have had so much black mail on him if you hadn't stopped him."/p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;""I like a challenge. It was too easy," Eric growled as he slammed his tray down on the dispal belt. It would take it into the back, and the lunch lady would probably grumble as she scraped off the remnants of the uneaten lunch./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;""That's not true." Bebe crossed her arms and leaned on the cinder block wall that had at least twelve layers worth of paint. Cartman looked past her head to a spot that pealing on the wall. Below the top layer there was so so much more. If he just picked at it, he could probably expose all of the colors and the room would be a conglomerate of color. It would look like someone had puked on the walls. But with each color would come a whole new side of the school. Perhaps the green was from the eighties, back when his own mother had attended the high school. Or was it the orange?/p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;""Eric," Bebe sighed softly and reached out, resting her hand on his bicep. "It's okay to want someone to be safe and happy. It's okay to like someone...You do know that right?"/p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;""No," Eric shook his head jerking his shoulder back from the blonde's grip. "No it's not. Because this town would go to hell if I didn't have everyone concentrated on hating me. Whether you realize it or not," Miserable brown eyes met her blue. For once, Bebe didn't feel a burning desire to berate the brunette. She didn't feel the need to lecture him on his latest mischevious scheme. "You all hate me, and that's okay. Because if you hate me, then you can't hate each other."/p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;""Oh Eric," Bebe whispered tugging him into a hug. He allowed his head to droop to a rest on her shoulder. The smell of her perfume was intoxicating, and slightly soothing. Bebe had always been a good listener, and one day, she'd make a hell of a mom. The reputation that preceded her was damaging, and she didn't deserve it. "Sweety," Her hands rubbed up and down his back in a soothing motion. It was almost too much./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;"Eric could feel the tears building up behind his eyes. He had to leave now, or he would be exposed. Crying when he was a child was one thing. He could always say he was using the tears to his advantage. Cry enough and your parent feels bad and looks beyond the wrong you did. Cry enough and maybe, just MAYBE, your mom will cancel that last appointment to spend some quality time with you./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;"But cry in the high school cafeteria and you could kiss your reputation goodbye./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;"That was something that Eric couldn't afford. He had too much riding on him, and he hated change. So he straightened his shoulders and back, stood up, turned on his heel, and stormed out of the eatery./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;"Bebe didn't even try to follow./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;"After ten minutes of pacing the hall and doing his best to get his breathing under control, Eric collapsed in an unoccupied boy's restroom. The smell of amonia violated his nostrils like the punch that had broken his nose just a few weeks ago. In fact, if the light caught him just right, he could still see some of the bruising./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;"The silence was over bearing and too much. But he didn't want to play music on his phone for fear of alerting someone to his hiding spot. So instead, he locked the door, turned the light off and turned on all of the faucets. The sound of running water seemed to sooth the blood that pulsed violently through him./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;""Jesus fucking christ," He whispered to himself. Brown curls crushed against the white wall as he leaned back into a resting position. Tears built up behind his eyes once more as his mind raced back and forth with what had transpired. Too much./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;"There was too much going on./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;"He never should have kissed Kyle. Never should have told Bebe about his own battle and struggle. Fuck, half of the time he regretted ever meeting Kenny McCormick when the blonde had waddled over to him in kindergarden. There was just so much damn regret in his life that he wondered./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;"Was it worth it? Was pushing himself to graduate and get away worth it?/p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;"Of course./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;"Because if he could just muddle through, he'd be gone. He would go to Denver, or Princeton, or Harvard. He had the brains—contrary to popular belief. Eric had never been recognized for his academic career. Probably because everything else he did overshadowed it, but that was all perspective./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;"Just get to April./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;""Just get to April," Eric sighed burrying his face into his knees. It would be his motto. He would stop socializing. No more parties, no more chances for him to slip up and be the real Eric Cartman. Just a couple of more months and he would be free. He'd be a lawyer, or a politician. He would make money, and for once.../p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;"For once the world would know Eric Cartman as the good guy. Not the brunette that terrorized the local kids on the playground. Not as the guy who taunted and teased a red head jew./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;"He would be Eric Cartman, renowned persecuter. For once, he would put the bad guy away instead of being the bad guy. He could reinvent himself and be who he had always been./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;"But life could never be so kind to him./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;"January 19supth/sup/p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;"Eric had done a mighty good job of avoiding the redhead for the rest of the week. But come Friday, Kyle was making it damn near impossible to avoid him. When Eric turned the corner to get to his locker, Kyle was waiting right beside it. When Eric excused himself from class, Kyle wasn't far behind him. It was as if the brunette had gotten into pandora's box./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;"The worst part was that Kyle never pushed. He never started a conversation. Hell, the ginger jew didn't even so much as greet the brunette whenever they'd bump into each other. And Eric Cartman, for once, was absolutely okay with it./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;"What he wasn't okay with were the glances he got from Wendy. It was like she knew something that he didn't. Or that she had some profound knowledge of his psych. Obviously, Kyle had talked to her. The black haired bitch was the only other person the school recognized as being on the same level with Kyle. Cartman didn't even blame him. Stan probably would have freaked out of Kyle had gone to him instead, and then the whole school would know. At least with Wendy, there was some semblance of silence. She knew when to keep her mouth shut, and when to keep a secret a secret./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;"Lunch was when it had all gone to hell in a hand basket./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;"Eric had seperated himself from his group, as he had been doing the past three weeks or so. Thus, he hadn't been expecting Kenny and the vuluptuous Bebe to sit across from him. He didn't expect for Bebe to look at him as if his world had crashed. He didn't expect Kenny to look as guilty as a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;""I swear to Hitler, Kenny...If you told them..." Cartman seethed as he watched the blonde's shoulders slump forward. "Fucking hell..."/p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;""Be nice," Bebe hummed lacing her fingers together. "You haven't exactly been inconspicuous yourself."/p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;""Big word for you, ain't it big tits?" Cartman growled rubbing a hand down his face. It was so easy to put on the mask of the asshole. Be mean, and they'll leave him alone. Say crude things and they'll let him wallow. Insult Bebe, and she'll call Kenny a liar and stomp off. He'd be left alone, and wouldn't have to deal with the shit that was blowing up./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;""Dude," Kenny squeaked slamming the toe of his shoe into Cartman's shin. The brunette hissed jerking his leg back. The glare he leveled on his supposed friend would have almost been enough to send even Kyle scampering./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;""First off, Kenny didn't tell me anything. I guessed it all, sweety." Bebe flipped her curls over her shoulder as she arched her over preened brow. "And you didn't account for Kyle." She jerked her head over to the redhead who looked almost as miserable as Eric himself./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;""Fuck," Eric sighed dropping his head into his hands. "What do you want?"/p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;""I just want to know what happened," Bebe smiled softly at him. "Eric, you don't usually do things like that. Besides," Her elbow nudged Kenny's side softly. "I've been told by a certain little bird, that maybe you're not as bad as the rest of us think."/p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;""Nope," Eric shook his head standing from his chair. "No." He leveled a glare at Kenny, then turned to Bebe. "We are not having this conversation. I am Eric fucking Cartman. You all hate me, and I hate you all. That's fine. That's who I am."/p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;""That isn't who you are though," Bebe stood from her own seating. She was going to follow him, and make sure that he knew that he had people on his side. "Not from what I've been told. Kenny told me about the party...that you didn't drug Kyle. You found him and saved him from making some dumb decisions."/p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;""I'm not his guardian angel. I just wanted to be the one to make him miserable. Why would I give someone else that opportunity?"/p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;""Why would you stop him from making himself miserable? Why would you get Kenny and get him out of that house instead of letting him make his mistakes?" Bebe followed him as he marched to the garbage can. "You could have had so much black mail on him if you hadn't stopped him."/p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;""I like a challenge. It was too easy," Eric growled as he slammed his tray down on the dispal belt. It would take it into the back, and the lunch lady would probably grumble as she scraped off the remnants of the uneaten lunch./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;""That's not true." Bebe crossed her arms and leaned on the cinder block wall that had at least twelve layers worth of paint. Cartman looked past her head to a spot that pealing on the wall. Below the top layer there was so so much more. If he just picked at it, he could probably expose all of the colors and the room would be a conglomerate of color. It would look like someone had puked on the walls. But with each color would come a whole new side of the school. Perhaps the green was from the eighties, back when his own mother had attended the high school. Or was it the orange?/p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;""Eric," Bebe sighed softly and reached out, resting her hand on his bicep. "It's okay to want someone to be safe and happy. It's okay to like someone...You do know that right?"/p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;""No," Eric shook his head jerking his shoulder back from the blonde's grip. "No it's not. Because this town would go to hell if I didn't have everyone concentrated on hating me. Whether you realize it or not," Miserable brown eyes met her blue. For once, Bebe didn't feel a burning desire to berate the brunette. She didn't feel the need to lecture him on his latest mischevious scheme. "You all hate me, and that's okay. Because if you hate me, then you can't hate each other."/p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;""Oh Eric," Bebe whispered tugging him into a hug. He allowed his head to droop to a rest on her shoulder. The smell of her perfume was intoxicating, and slightly soothing. Bebe had always been a good listener, and one day, she'd make a hell of a mom. The reputation that preceded her was damaging, and she didn't deserve it. "Sweety," Her hands rubbed up and down his back in a soothing motion. It was almost too much./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;"Eric could feel the tears building up behind his eyes. He had to leave now, or he would be exposed. Crying when he was a child was one thing. He could always say he was using the tears to his advantage. Cry enough and your parent feels bad and looks beyond the wrong you did. Cry enough and maybe, just MAYBE, your mom will cancel that last appointment to spend some quality time with you./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;"But cry in the high school cafeteria and you could kiss your reputation goodbye./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;"That was something that Eric couldn't afford. He had too much riding on him, and he hated change. So he straightened his shoulders and back, stood up, turned on his heel, and stormed out of the eatery./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;"Bebe didn't even try to follow./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;"After ten minutes of pacing the hall and doing his best to get his breathing under control, Eric collapsed in an unoccupied boy's restroom. The smell of amonia violated his nostrils like the punch that had broken his nose just a few weeks ago. In fact, if the light caught him just right, he could still see some of the bruising./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;"The silence was over bearing and too much. But he didn't want to play music on his phone for fear of alerting someone to his hiding spot. So instead, he locked the door, turned the light off and turned on all of the faucets. The sound of running water seemed to sooth the blood that pulsed violently through him./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;""Jesus fucking christ," He whispered to himself. Brown curls crushed against the white wall as he leaned back into a resting position. Tears built up behind his eyes once more as his mind raced back and forth with what had transpired. Too much./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;"There was too much going on./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;"He never should have kissed Kyle. Never should have told Bebe about his own battle and struggle. Fuck, half of the time he regretted ever meeting Kenny McCormick when the blonde had waddled over to him in kindergarden. There was just so much damn regret in his life that he wondered./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;"Was it worth it? Was pushing himself to graduate and get away worth it?/p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;"Of course./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;"Because if he could just muddle through, he'd be gone. He would go to Denver, or Princeton, or Harvard. He had the brains—contrary to popular belief. Eric had never been recognized for his academic career. Probably because everything else he did overshadowed it, but that was all perspective./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;"Just get to April./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;""Just get to April," Eric sighed burrying his face into his knees. It would be his motto. He would stop socializing. No more parties, no more chances for him to slip up and be the real Eric Cartman. Just a couple of more months and he would be free. He'd be a lawyer, or a politician. He would make money, and for once.../p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;"For once the world would know Eric Cartman as the good guy. Not the brunette that terrorized the local kids on the playground. Not as the guy who taunted and teased a red head jew./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;"He would be Eric Cartman, renowned persecuter. For once, he would put the bad guy away instead of being the bad guy. He could reinvent himself and be who he had always been./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" /p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;"But life could never be so kind to him./p
p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal;" /p