The last class of the day passed extremely slowly - Science. I usually enjoy Science - it's pretty interesting - but today I found it boring. I would love to be going home right now but instead I'm walking down the hall, heading towards the detention room, thanks to that fucking fatass Cartman.
To my surprise, when I reach the detention room, I see nine other people standing outside the door, waiting for the supervising teacher to come, and one of those people is Eric Cartman himself!
Our eyes meet as I approach him and I frown. "How the hell did you get detention, fatass?" I ask.
He shrugs. "My fucking art teacher failed me on my art project which I actually think looks pretty good. So I… kinda gave out hell to her. Nothing huge."
"Nothing huge?" repeats Craig, from behind me, obviously eavesdropping. "You looked like you were going to bite her head off!"
"Really? That bad?" I ask, staring at Craig in shock.
He nods. "You should have seen it. It was crazy."
"Wow. What did-"
"Alright alright, we get it that I went a little overboard, okay?" interrupts Cartman. "I'll tell Kahl what he wants to know, Craig, so why don't you stop listening to our conversation and talk to someone else, you nosy fag!"
Craig flashes him a glare and flips him off, before turning around and heading towards Bebe and Clyde.
Cartman sighs and I look at him again, suddenly interested. "So why were you so angry? You usually don't give two shits if you fail anything in school."
He shrugs again. "I guess it's because I actually worked hard on this project and I thought it turned out well. But that bitch still failed me!"
I stare at him incredulously. "You actually worked hard on it?" I scoff. "Why?"
He shoots me a glare before shrugging again. "I guess I liked the idea," he replies. "We had to draw a picture that describes our life."
I stare at him, feeling very confused. "And why the hell do you like that idea? That sounds pretty boring."
"For some, perhaps. For others, such as myself, it's pretty interesting," he answers, a small smirk playing on his lips, confusing me more.
"Why was it fun for you?" I ask. "What did you draw?"
"Do you want to see the drawing?"
"You have it with you?" I ask.
He nods. "It's just in-"
"Silence!" cries a loud voice near us, causing me to jump, startled. I glance to my right and see Mrs Carragh at the door to the room, eying every one of us hatefully. She opens the door and shouts at us to walk inside in single file.
What are we - children?
We do as we're told though so as not to hear her bitching. She's one of the bitchiest teachers in the whole school.
Once inside, she tells us she'll be putting us at a table, two at each table. She picks at random and I end up sitting at the back, sitting with Bebe Stevens. She flashes me a smile as she sits next to me.
I mentally groan. I know Bebe still has a crush on me but I really don't like her that way. In fact, I don't like girls that way at all!
Once the ten of us in the room are seated, Mrs Carragh hands out work for us to do to keep us occupied. I sigh deeply as I gaze down at the pages and pages of questions, covering almost every subject.
There's a question on the first page which catches my attention. It's asking about some famous artist or something and I get to wondering about Cartman's art project. I don't know why I want to see it so bad but I guess it's because I've seen Cartman's work when he doesn't try so many times, but since he actually worked hard on this one, I really want to see it.
I suddenly jump a few seconds later as a hand touches my shoulder. I glance to my left and realise it's only Bebe, giving me an odd look.
"Kyle, why are you staring at Cartman? It's kind of freaking me out."
My eyes widen and I stare at her incredulously. "I… I wasn't…" I trail off and look ahead of me, only realising now that Cartman is sitting at the table in front of us, his back to me. I guess I could have been accidentally staring at him while I was lost in thought.
I look back at Bebe and see her waiting for my answer, her eyebrow raised. "I was just daydreaming," I reply. "I didn't mean to stare at him."
I quickly look away from her and try to forget about all that. I stare down at the pages in front of me and answer them as best as I can, trying not to let my mind wander again for fear of gazing at Cartman again.
-/-/-/
The hour and a half detention passes really slowly but Mrs Carragh finally allows us to leave at long last. I quickly throw my stuff in my bag before jumping out of my seat. I'm one of the last out since I was sitting at the back and I breathe a sigh of relief when I'm out of the room and away from Mrs Carragh. I kept feeling her beady little eyes on me every few minutes and it was starting to freak me out.
As I turn the corner to head to the front door of the school, I bump into someone and jump back in shock and embarrassment.
I glance upwards and see that it's Cartman I bumped into. Perfect.
My cheeks flush red and he rolls his eyes. "You should really watch where you're going, Jew. That could have hurt."
I don't answer. I just stare up at him blankly before I frown. "Well why were you just standing there anyway? Aren't you heading home?" I ask.
"Yeah. Of course I'm heading home, you stupid Jew. I just thought I'd wait for you. Is that a problem?"
I stare at him in surprise, noting the serious look on his face, and shake my head. "No, it's not a problem," I reply. "Uh, thanks, I guess."
He shrugs. "Whatever, daywalker."
I roll my eyes at the name but don't comment. We start heading outside and begin walking home together, in silence at first. Then Cartman breaks it.
"Dude, I hate silence. It's so fucking boring. Can we talk about something, please?"
I nod. "About what?"
"I don't know."
I roll my eyes. "Choose something."
"Okay. Hmm… I know! How about we talk about all the reasons I hate Jews so much?" he suggests, smirking deviously.
"Yeah sure. That sounds fun!" I cry, sarcastically.
He chuckles. "Fine, you pick a topic then, Jew boy."
I start to think. What would be an interesting thing to talk about between me and Cartman?
Our feelings? Ha ha, yeah right!
"What are you grinning at, Jew?" Cartman asks, smirking a little, amused and curious.
"Nothing," I reply, trying to remove my grin but failing.
"Tell me," he whines, nudging my arm.
"No," I answer. "Just pick something to talk about, fatass. I can't think of anything."
He sighs. "You're useless, Jew," he says, smirking and earning a glare from me.
"Shut up, fatass," I respond, rolling my eyes in irritation.
He chuckles. "How about we play 20 Questions?" he suggests.
I cock an eyebrow at him, thinking he's joking.
"I'm serious, Kahl," he says, as if reading my mind.
"Why?" I ask. "What's so good about that?"
He shrugs. "It could be fun."
"How?"
"God dammit, Kahl! Are you playing or not?" he cries impatiently.
I sigh. "Alright, fine."
"Cool. So I'll ask you a question, then you ask me, and so on," he briefly explains and I nod in agreement. "Okay, so my first question… why do you still call me 'fatass' when you know I'm not fat anymore?" he asks.
I blink slowly at him, not really expecting the question. "Because I've always called you that, ever since we first met. I don't care if you're not fat anymore. I'm going to continue calling you it," I reply, smirking slightly.
He growls a little. "Alright, your turn, Jew."
"Why do you hate Jews so much?" I ask, after a moment of thought.
"Because you're all sneaky, greedy, sly, mischievous, evil, money-loving rats!" he cries, a dark look on his face.
I roll my eyes but don't bother starting an argument. "I see. Your turn."
"Why do you still wear that stupid hat? I know you don't wear it every single day like you used to but you still wear it nearly all the time. It's ridiculous!" he says, giving me an odd look.
I sigh. "It's because I hate my hair," I reply. "I got rid of my Jewfro, as you put it, but now it just hangs around my face and kind of makes me look like a girl. So I wear my hat so no one can see it. But on those rare days that I'm feeling extra confident for some reason, I decide against it."
His eyes stay on me for another minute or two, his eyes boring into me, making me feel uncomfortable, before his hand lashes out at me at almost lightning speed and knocks my hat off my head.
"Hey!" I cry, glancing around the ground for a moment before realising my hat is in Cartman's hand. "Give it back, Cartman!" I shout, trying to grab it.
He simply raises his hand to the point where I can't reach it, because of my small height, and he chuckles down at me. God, I hate being so tiny!
"Cartman, give it to me," I say, trying to keep calm.
"No," he answers. "Your hair's fine and you look better without this stupid thing."
I blink at him in surprise, feeling a light blush stain my cheeks. Did Cartman just compliment me?
I sigh. "Cartman, please just give it back."
"I'll give it back when we're at your house," he says and I stare at him, deciding whether to believe him or not. "I promise," he adds, flashing me a grin, causing my heart to flutter pleasantly inside my chest.
"Okay, fine," I say, exhaling another sigh before starting to walk again.
He walks by my side and lowers my hat, carrying it in the hand farthest away from me. As expected, my hair flies around my face, annoying me to no end.
"It's your turn," Cartman finally says, flashing me another grin.
My heart flutters again and I mentally curse at the taller boy for making me feel so elated so easily.
"Alright. Umm…do you mind being addressed as 'Cartman' by everyone, or do you even care?" I ask, suddenly interested to hear his answer. I never really thought about it before but now that I think about it, I would really hate being called 'Broflovski' by everyone all the time. But Cartman's been called by his surname ever since we were kids, so maybe he doesn't care anymore, or maybe he never did.
He stares at me for a moment, looking slightly surprised, probably not expecting the question. Then he shrugs. "What's it to you?"
I frown. "That's not part of the game, Cartman. If you really don't want to answer the question, I'll ask you something else and you can-"
"No, no. I'll fucking answer it," he interrupts, rolling his eyes and waving it off with his hand as if it meant nothing to him.
I'm guessing he didn't want to sound like a pussy for not answering a simple question.
"Well if you really want to hear the fucking truth, yes, I do care. I hate that everyone calls me Cartman. I always have," he says, surprising me with his honesty.
"Care to elaborate?" I ask softly, wanting desperately to hear the reason behind his answer.
He sighs, a deep frown forming on his face, showing a look of despair and dejection. "Why the fuck do you want to know so bad anyway?" he suddenly shouts, startling me and causing me to stare at him, almost hurt.
His face softens as he looks at me and he releases a sigh, sad and deep. "Alright. I just… I feel like I'm just not important enough to be called by my first name… Like I'm a lower level than you in humanity… like I'm nothing and so you can call me whatever the hell you want without giving two shits about how I feel… That's how I've always felt. Like I'm worthless and unimportant."
I gawk at him, unable to tear my eyes away from him. I never realised he felt that way before. I never knew he had such little self-confidence, but he does. And I'm part of the reason he has such low self-esteem. Part of it is my fault that he feels unimportant and worthless in this life…
I regret ever asking the question. I'd rather not have known that I'm one to blame for his low self-assurance. It hurts to know that I've caused him to think such things about himself, which are entirely untrue. Of course he's important. Of course he's not worthless. He's not on a lower level than the rest of us in humanity. He's on the same level and deserves to be treated as such.
In that case, I really should start to call him by his first name. I'd be cruel otherwise, now that I know how it makes him feel, but the name 'Eric' sounds so foreign to me. Whenever I look at him, the name 'Cartman' just springs to mind. It's going to take some time to get used to his first name. Though I've obviously always known it's his first name, it just doesn't seem to sound right…
The only problem is that if I suddenly start calling him Eric, people will be wondering why the change and they may start to suspect things.
"Don't worry, Kahl," Cartman says, probably noticing my anxious look. "You can still call me Cartman as usual. We don't want people thinking things, right?"
He grins and I only hesitate a moment before returning a grin. "Yeah, right." I then grow serious. "But seriously, Cartman, I never knew that you actually felt so hurt by us calling you by your surname. I never knew it made you feel like you're worthless and unimportant, because that is so not true. I just…I feel really bad now. I… I'm sorry."
He shrugs nonchalantly. "Don't apologize, Jew. I know that you secretly don't care that it hurts me to be called 'Cartman' all the time. Stop pretending you do. Please."
I gape at him, shocked, but he doesn't notice. He doesn't think I care? That's unbelievable! He has no idea how much I care. No god damn idea!
"Anyway, it's my turn now," he says, ending the previous subject. "Hmm… let's see…" He raises his eyebrows, obviously thinking of something, and looks at me. "What's your sexual orientation, Jew boy?"
I stare at him. "Huh?"
"Are you gay, straight, bisexual-"
"I know what it means, fatass!" I interrupt sharply. "I mean why do you want to know?"
He shrugs. "It's part of the game, Kahl! And besides, I've always wondered what you were."
I blink in surprise, before looking away. "I… I'm straight," I reply, unable to look at him.
"Are you?" he asks, sounding surprised.
"Yeah." I raise an eyebrow at him, not making direct eye contact. "Why do you sound so surprised?"
He shrugs and looks ahead of him again. "You just never seem to mention girls at all and you don't ask any out."
I shrug, pretending to make little of it, when really what I want is to tell him the truth, that I'm gay. Gay for him…
I mean, how could I ever have a chance with him if I make him think I'm perfectly straight?
"It's my turn," I say quickly, realising we're almost at my house.
"Go on then," Cartman replies.
"Why do you always reject all the girls that ask you out, including Bebe, even though she's one of the hottest girls in school?" I ask, curiosity bubbling inside me.
He blinks slowly and I notice him exhale a quiet, yet deep, sigh. He then gives me a sideways glance. "Because they're all fucking bitches, that's why!" he cries, startling me a little. "I hate them all. No decent girl has ever asked me out. Everyone who has is a big-headed bitch who thinks they can get their way just because they have huge fucking titties."
He grunts, pissed off at the thought, it seems.
"What about Wendy?" I ask, and he cocks an eyebrow at me. "A lot of people think you like her but others aren't so sure. So… do you?"
"What? Of course not! She's just as bitchy and big-headed as the rest of them. Besides, she's Stan's ho, right?" I nod. "So why the fuck would I like her?"
I shrug. "It's just a rumour."
He sighs. "You shouldn't believe everything you hear, Kahl. Rumours are just a big bunch of lies to have something interesting to talk about in the boring days of school."
I nod in agreement. "I guess you're right," I reply.
"Of course I'm right," he adds, smirking.
I grin and then frown in confusion when he suddenly comes to a stop. "What? Why'd you stop?" I ask.
"Uhh… we're at your house," he says, pointing over my shoulder, pointing out the obvious.
"Oh," I mumble, blushing at my stupidity.
He smirks. "Don't be embarrassed, Jew. Who can pay attention to their surroundings when they're talking to me?"
I stare at him, shocked, and he chuckles, causing my blush to darken.
"Uhh… I better go in now," I mutter very quickly, not even sure if that came out coherent.
I turn around, about to start heading towards my house, when Cartman's hand suddenly grips my arm and turns me back around to face him again, causing me to stare at him in surprise and confusion.
"Cartman, what are you-"
"That was my question, Jew. We never said we were finished playing the game. So my question is: who can pay attention to their surroundings when they're talking to me?" He cocks an amused eyebrow at me, waiting for my answer.
I feel my cheeks get hotter than they already are and I shrug. "I don't know, Cartman. Just let me go inside and give me my hat back," I say, avoiding his eyes purposely.
"I'll give you your hat back after you answer the question, Kahl," he says, his eyes on mine though I'm not looking back.
I exhale an irritated sigh and finally meet his eyes, regretting it immediately as I suddenly feel weak at the knees.
"But I… I don't know the answer, Cartman," I say, blinking rapidly to avoid falling captive under his eyes.
He frowns at my constant blinking and raises an eyebrow, but decides to ignore it. "Just say you, Kahl," he says, exhaling a deep, warm breath onto my face, causing my heart to beat faster.
"W-what?" I ask stupidly, a little distracted.
"Just say you're the one who can't pay attention to your surroundings when you're talking to me," he says, smirking. "That's all I want to hear."
I stare at him, my eyes widened, wondering whether or not he's joking. By the devious smirk on his face, I instantly know he's serious.
"Alright. I can't pay attention to my surroundings when I'm talking to you," I reluctantly admit, avoiding his eyes. "There, you happy?"
His smirk widens and he releases me. "'Atta boy, Kahl," he says, giving my shoulder a gentle pat.
I blush ferociously and look off to the side, frowning when I hear him chuckle.
"Here's your hat, Jew," he says, shoving the hat onto my head in an uncomfortable manner.
I groan and adjust it properly until it's sitting comfortably atop my full head of hair.
"Well I guess I'll see you later, fata- uhh, Cartman," I correct myself.
I may not start calling him Eric for fear of what others might think, but I can at least stop calling him 'fatass' and call him 'Cartman' all the time. At least it's not as bad.
"Later, Jew," he replies.
I frown disapprovingly at him and cock an eyebrow, awaiting the correct response from him.
He sighs in annoyance. "Alright, fine. Later, Kahl," he corrects himself.
I smile at him, satisfied, and turn around to head inside my house, my cheeks still crimson.
"See you tomorrow," I call to him as I open the front door but when I look over my shoulder, I see he's already started heading home, the wind blowing his messy brown hair back, making it look even messier. God dammit… I can't stop my heartbeat from increasing rapidly and my eyes to stay on him until he's completely out of sight.
-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/
Hope you enjoyed that. Please leave a review whether you did or not.
I've finished typing the whole thing up so I just need to edit here and there before uploading more chapters. There's going to be eighteen chapters by the way.
In the new year, I'm going to try update this fic more frequently. Let's see how that works out!
By the way, I hope you all had a great Christmas and Santa got you everything you wanted! xxxx