Anything for You 2

Cartman's POV

So much of being in prison is exactly as one would expect. Bad company, bad food, hard beds, sleepless nights. What no one can conceive is how incredibly long time feels when there's nothing to occupy it. Twenty three hours of solitude a day leaves a lot of time to obsess over why you're there. I think they intended it to be that way. Plenty of time for regret and sorrow.

Too bad for me. I'd do it again in a heart beat.

The prison guard came to my cell and looked down at me where I lay, facing the ceiling. "You got visitors, kid."

I didn't really argue as I followed the guard to the room, a long hall with booths and three inch glass between me and the real world. If I wasn't feeling so apathetic about everything I would have been surprised to see Kenny and Stan sitting across from me, Stan with the black phone in his hand. I couldn't hear anything as Kenny leaned back and talked to someone beyond my sight. Finally Kyle came and took the chair behind them. That, of course, surprised me.

I picked up the phone. "How was California?"

"What the fuck is going on?" Stan spat through the line.

"Don't get feisty," I said in all seriousness, "it doesn't take a lot to bug these guards."

"Well?"

"We got in a fight. I got his gun and shot him. That's it."

"What did you guys fight about? Jesus, what the hell could you possibly fight about?"

Plenty. I didn't answer. "Put Kyle on."

Stan looked really pissed but he did what I told him to.

It was a strange feeling I got as I waited for Kyle to take the phone. I looked through the glass as Kyle scooted his chair closer and oh so timidly took the phone. I looked at him. He looked back. I opened my mouth to speak but paused, glancing at Kenny and Stan. I shifted the phone so that the mouth piece covered their view. Stan looked annoyed when I glanced at him. No lip-reading for you, Marsh.

"Jewfag, you look like road kill. How's your sorry ass doing?" I greeted.

"Not so great. Cartman, I-"

"Don't," I said, cutting him off before he said something suspicious. I didn't want the cops suspecting Kyle of any involvement.

Kyle looked at me sadly. "You're a good person."

"Shut the hell up," I growled.

"I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry."

That eased my rage, and I sat back. Kyle was sorry for me because of the predicament I was in, but more so for something darker. Kyle was apologizing because he felt weak, unable to be the virtuous person he always thought he was. His silence is what kept me behind bars, and I wouldn't have it any other way. If only he knew how much I understood.

"You have nothing to be sorry for."

"Why aren't you telling anyone what happened?" Kyle asked.

"They're recording our calls, you know," I warned.

"I know. But what's going to happen to you?"

That was an easy question, at least. "It really depends on what happens to Maz," I said, "If he dies, I'll probably get a long sentence. If he wakes up, well, he's not going to say anything more than I have. Trust me."

Kyle nodded, getting worked up again. "Cartman…"

"Enough," I said. "Give the phone to Stan."

Stan got rude again and I warned him that Kyle was unwell. When I reached my cell and slid to the floor, my mind was whirling. With no distractions, it was enough to make a man crazy.

One thing I'm sure of is that if the homo in the green hat didn't exist, I wouldn't be gay. I wouldn't be straight either, because besides him, I hated everyone.

See, I had always been obsessed with him, as someone who made my life more fun, more interesting, my competition, and my enemy. I clearly remember when I figured it out because it was when Kyle came out of the closet. I imagined Kyle thinking about sex, and I wondered who he thought was hot. I tried to spy on him, trying to figure out which of the guys he preferred over the others, but I got nothing. I paid special attention to Stan, but there was never that look in Kyle's eyes that the mushy romances describe.

My train of thought went from crushes to sex, and it hit me that Kyle liked sex with men. Not that he'd ever done it, but I couldn't get the images out of my head. Sitting there in class imagining someone pumping into the Jew Boy was the first time I got turned on, and it was so strong that I had to raise my hand and run to the bathroom.

My feelings for Kyle were nothing like unrequited love. No, I had his face reserved in my mind for getting off; his fine piece of ass was only that, a piece of ass. His sweet breath made my mouth water when he got in my face, whispering the god's name in vain and wishing the worst for me.

But I knew now, after what I had done to land me in the penitentiary, that there was something else going on in my head that I couldn't admit just yet.

TBC. Please review!