Chapter 20
Author's Note: Sorry for the delay you guys! This week has been really busy for me. The next chapter will be here sooner I promise :) I hope you all still love me! ^^ Enjoyy.
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**STAN'S P.O.V**
Where the hell was Kyle?
It was already fifth period and there was no sign of him. Although Wendy had tried to distract me all morning, nothing had worked. I was nervous. So fucking nervous. And rightfully so. I had no idea where my extremely depressed, abused, battered, self-harming friend was and had no way of contacting him.
What if he was getting the crap beat out if him right now? Or cutting the shit out if himself in the middle of an alley somewhere in South Park?!
Oh god!
When the door started to open in the middle of Mr. Prickclit's lecture I felt my breath hitch in my throat and my hopes raise up, only to be dashed by the entrance of Kenny McKormic and Eric Cartman.
Ugh I thought that would have been Kyle for sure! Why the fuck were they so late anyway?
"Excuse me boys, I'm sorry, I seem to be interrupting your leisurely stroll into school with my lesson." Mr. Prickclit snarled. Kenny shrugged and Cartman waved the teacher off.
"It's okay I forgive you." Cartman replied and took his seat. I couldn't help but roll my eyes at his usual rude banter with people he should be respecting.
"Excuse me?!" The teacher barked. Cartman looked up and smiled wide.
"You're excused, sir. Shouldn't we get back to the lesson?" He asked innocently.
The class broke out in scattered laughter as the teacher quickly wrote out a detention slip and handed it to Cartman who just stuffed it in his pocket. The teacher returned to the lesson at hand and Kenny leaned forward, his head right next to Cartman's ear.
"Good job." He chuckled. "Must have been easy for you."
"Too easy." Cartman nodded. I looked over curiously and leaned a bit towards Cartman. We hadn't exactly spoken since our... altercation. But I needed to know if he talked to Kyle or not.
"What are you guys talking about?" I asked curiously. Kenny looked at Cartman with a mischievous smile.
"You should mind your own business, hippie. Maybe pay attention in class once in a while." He growled in annoyance. I felt myself get irritated.
"You're one to talk!" I hissed under my breath. "Did you talk to Kyle last night?"
He stiffened at that and glared at the ground, his face reddening slightly. I didn't like that look. I nudged him to try and get an answer out of him.
"Yeah. I did." He admitted, shoving me back. "Where is he anyway? In the bathroom?"
"Yeah is he okay?" Kenny added, deeply concerned. I felt sick to my stomach.
"Guys, he hasn't shown up to school yet." I replied. Cartman's head shot in my direction.
"What?!" He exclaimed, hands tightening into fists. The teacher slammed his book down to the floor making the whole class jump.
"ERIC THEODORE CARTMAN I AM ABOUT DONE WITH YOU TODAY!" Mr. Prickclit boomed. Cartman didn't even turn to acknowledge the teacher, his eyes still burning into mine. "HOW WOULD YOU LIKE TO GO SEE THE SCHOOL COUNCILOR?!"
Again, no acknowledgement from the Fatass. Figured. I couldn't break away from Cartman's eyes. They were perplexing me.
I could see the concern. And the panic. So he felt exactly how I did...
Did he? Was he really worried for Kyle? What happened last night?
"Eric Cartman! I'm talking to you!" The teacher snarled. Cartman finally broke our staring contest and glared at the teacher. I shuddered and the glare wasn't even directed at me.
"Yeah I can hear you." He growled. "You're not exactly subtle, sir."
"You want double detention?!"
"With all due respect sir, you can suck my balls." Cartman replied, getting up and gathering his things. The teacher sputtered, thoroughly flabbergasted. I couldn't help but join the rest of the class in laughter.
Some things never change.
"Y-you...! I can't... Ugh you insolent-" the teacher began, but
Cartman cut him off.
"Yeah yeah I'm going to the fucking counselor. Son of a bitch." He growled and slammed the door behind him. Kenny leaned forward, this time at my ear.
"I know Cartman doesn't want you to know but... I think you deserve to get filled in. Let me tell you what's been going on." He said. I sighed in relief.
Thank you Kenny.
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**KYLE'S P.O.V**
"Kyle."
I stared at the tile floor as people came and went. I must have been staring at the same spot for a couple of hours, because I felt like I was in some sort of blank trance.
"Kyle? Look at me. …Please?"
I felt Ike's hand on my arm and it took me a few seconds to gather up enough energy to lift my head. I felt so heavy. The way he looked back at me took me by surprise. There was a certain analytical glint in his eye, as if he was examining me. He touched my face and I didn't even blink, not even when he shined the flashlight app from his phone right in my eye. After a few seconds passed, the blinding light finally became too much for my vision and I blinked rapidly tearing up. Ike seemed to visibly relax at this, his hand still on my face as he cupped my cheek.
"Do you know where you are Bro?" he asked, concerned. I opened my mouth for a moment, and then closed it while I racked my brain for words to use.
"…I'm in the hospital with you and Dad." I finally spoke, my voice foreign in my head. Ike nodded with a faint smile on his face in response to the sound of my voice. He lifted what seemed to be a melted ice pack to my face and I didn't feel anything, my face already numb. Had the ice already been on my face? I didn't even notice.
"Kyle this isn't your fault."
Bullshit.
"…Do you know what time it is?" I asked. Ike sighed in frustration.
"Is that the only thing you care about right now? This is like then ninth time you've asked me in the last hour." Ike replied somewhat exasperated. "It's 5:19. …Kyle talk to me."
"I don't know what to say." I said quietly.
"Do you want to know about Mom? I mean they didn't tell us much but they said she's going to be under surveillance until the morning. They think her violent outbursts have something to do with post-traumatic stress disorder. …I heard the doctor talking with Dad and apparently she's been bipolar since she was my age." Ike explained. I felt my eyebrow rise by itself in thought. "She's been off her medication for a month now, and apparently it's not the first time she's done this."
Mom was bipolar? Has been bipolar?
…Honestly it made perfect sense. The last time I could remember her acting so out of the ordinary was the Canada incident. It began with her fighting to protect my innocence, and ended with her pulling the trigger of a gun twice. She even forgot that her own son was Canadian. Even if all had resolved itself at the end of the day, I would be crazy to say that it was just a caught in the moment thing. For fucks sake she caused a temporary War! She must have been off her medication. It made sense. But it didn't solve anything.
"Is that it?" I asked in a dead tone. "I should head out."
"Head out where?" Ike asked, gripping my arm. "Don't leave Kyle. You should really stay here with me."
I felt a surge of resentment pulse through my body. I loved my brother, I really did, but he was the last person I wanted to be around right now. He was just a reminder of who I was supposed to be, but couldn't. I didn't need his protection.
"Football practice." I mutter, shaking off his arm. "I'm going now."
"Bro stop plea-"
"GOD DAMN IT IKE! PLEASE STOP!" I boomed, enraged. "I don't need a big brother!"
I grabbed my coat and forced myself up; doing everything I could to ignore the words he spoke to my empty chair as I pushed through the double doors. No matter how hard I tried I could still hear his words sliver down my spine as guilt consumed me.
"…but I do…"
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**CARTMAN'S P.O.V**
"Eric I really hope you've learned your lesson, M'kay." Mr. Mackey droned on. "Of course I'm sure you didn't because you always end up back here, m'kay, but for my sake just pretend like you have. I'd like to go home M'kay."
"Of course Mr. Mackey." I replied with a fake smile. "Whatever was I thinking? It seems as though I had a temporary lapse in judgment but rest assured, I think I learned my lesson this time! Honest and true!"
"Spare me the bullshit Eric… M'kay?" Mr. Mackey sighed and sat back in his chair as there was a knock on the door. "Come in. Eric, we're done here."
Just as I expected, Tyler and Marcus walked through the door. Tyler seemed to be really anxious, while Marcus just seemed bored.
"Hey Mackey." Tyler muttered.
"A kid in an orange parka said you wanted to see us?" Marcus asked nonchalantly. Mr. Mackey raised his eyebrow.
"Uh… I don't need you for anything boys, M'kay. I don't know what you're talking about." He replied.
They looked at each other strangely, shrugged, and headed out of the room. Bingo. Time to work my magic.
"Oh my gosh no way no way!" I exclaimed running out of the room and shutting Mr. Mackey's door. They both looked at me in question. "Are you guys…? Oh my god you totally are! You're Marcus Littler and Tyler Vaughn! Holy shit!"
"Hey now calm down kid." Marcus chuckled. "Yeah that's us."
"What of it?" Tyler asked. "We have to go back to practice. Do you know us or something?"
"You are like THE COOLEST guys in South Park! You guys are sooooooo talented!" I exclaimed enthusiastically. "C-Can I please get your autographs?"
They looked at each other and seemed flattered, accepting the paper and pen I handed them immediately. I smirked as they scribbled their names onto the paper totally buying it.
Heh. Idiots.
"What's your name kid?" Marcus asked curiously, budging Tyler. "He must have caught the game last month."
"Of course I did! I catch every game!" I explained with a gleam in my eye. "I'm Eric… but that doesn't really matter. You guys are like my role models! You'll both be super famous one day! I know it! Tyler, you're like, the fastest guy on the field! And Marcus you have the strongest throwing arm in the whole world!"
"I don't know about the whole world now." Marcus blushed, rubbing the back of his head.
"Don't give him too much of a big head, kid. He'll never shut up." Tyler replied and handed me the paper, which I took. "Anything else you need from us?"
"Just… ugh you guys are just so awesome and… oh I don't know if I can ask you guys… I don't want to be a bother…" I looked away in a shy kind of way, touching my finger to my cheek. Tyler and Marcus looked at each other and then back at me.
"What is it, Eric?" Marcus asked. Tyler raised an eyebrow.
"Well…" I began. "You see… it's my birthday today and I-"
"Happy birthday kid." Tyler interrupted me, stuffing his hands in his pockets. I felt a twitch of annoyance pulse through me, but I shrugged it off. Ugh. They were such tools.
"Oh my god thank you!" I replied excitedly and continued. "Anyway it's my birthday and I'm having a dinner with some friends at Bennigans tonight at 6: 30. I friggin DIE if you guys came. It would be the best gift ever! …of course… I'm just a silly sophomore so I understand if you don't want t-"
"No we'd love to!" Marcus smiled. Tyler looked at Marcus like he had six heads.
"Marcus! We can't! We have practice until 7 and it's like 6 o clock now. Coach will kill us." Tyler said, obviously irritated. Marcus rolled his eyes.
"Oh don't be such a stick in the mud, Tyler. You know that if I put in a good word for you, coach won't do shit. He's my dad after all." Marcus laughed. "Besides. This kid is our first real fan and it's his fucking birthday! We should totally go."
"Ugh. Fine, whatever." Tyler replied. I felt the grin spread across my face quickly. YES. Everything was going to work out. "We'll see you later tonight Evan."
"It's Eric." I growled slightly out of character, but Marcus ruffled my hair playfully as they walked away. When they were out of sight I pulled my phone out of my pocket and held it to my ear.
"…Jacartha?" I smiled a most evil smile. "Yeah. I have a job for you."