Kyle walked into the school the next day hesitantly. He wanted his entrance to go unnoticed, but as soon as he was through the front door, everyone turned to look at him. Their eyes landed directly on the white bandage wrapped around his head. Some also noticed he was walking with a slight limp. He looked like he had been in a fight. An extremely one-sided fight. His injuries might've gone unnoticed, except that the students of South Park High were bored to the point that anything out of the ordinary became a spectacle.
Kyle felt his face flush from the attention and moved as quickly as he could towards his locker. He was halfway through his combination when he heard a familiar nasally voice come up behind him.
"Sup Broflovski. Nice bandage."
Kyle grimaced and finished opening his locker before he turned to face Craig. "Thanks a lot," he said dryly.
"So what's the diagnosis? How badly did Cartman fuck you up?"
Kyle wanted to smack the smirk right off Craig's smug face. Instead he forced a smile. "You were there, Craig, so fuck off."
"Haha, yeah. You were out cold. It's a concussion, right? Clyde got one in October from playing football, but you got one cause Cartman beat the shit out you, which is so much funnier."
"Hey fuck you, Craig," Kyle snapped. "Cartman didn't beat the shit out of me."
"Hey man, fuck you," Craig said giving Kyle the finger. "I was just worried about your health."
"Sure. Thank you so much for your concern." Kyle quickly grabbed his things from his locker and began to limp away. Craig was such a dick.
If he could just make it to his first class he'd be safe from his peers' curious glances. He was looking forward to seeing Stan and Wendy, friends who could take his mind off of his current physical state. He was not looking forward to seeing Cartman. Fucking Health. The only subject that allows kids from every range of GPAs to exist together in the same learning environment. A fucking travesty as far as Kyle was concerned.
He had considered skipping, but he couldn't risk his perfect attendance record. He would just have to suffer the humiliation of Cartman's company. Kyle was like a living trophy, walking proof of Cartman's ridiculous strength that somehow everyone had been completely unaware he had. Granted Kyle didn't weigh that much, but even Stan couldn't lift him up for more than a few seconds. Cartman had lifted him up and held him there. Kyle shuddered at the memory, trying to ignore his nagging brain reminding him that it was ultimately his own fault for provoking Cartman.
Kyle finally arrived at his classroom, trying not to think about anything too hard. He quickly checked to see if Cartman had shown up yet, and he was relieved to see he wasn't in his seat.
"Kahl, we need to talk," came a voice from behind him. Kyle might've actually jumped into the air if not for his ankle. He tried to walk away, but Cartman grabbed his arm. Kyle angrily spun around to face him as he ripped his arm away.
"Don't fucking touch me," he said in his darkest, most threatening voice. Cartman looked like he was about to say something sarcastic, but at the last second he changed his mind.
"I'm sorry," he said. Kyle wasn't fazed. He had heard Cartman apologize to him a hundred times before and always with the intention of getting something from him.
"Bull. Shit. I'm going to go sit down before class starts."
"I really am sorry! I took it too far. I mean, you punched me, but I feel really bad about beating the shit out of you.
"You didn't beat the shit out me!"
"I feel terrible for being such a huge jerk."
"You've never felt bad about anything in your entire life!"
"That's not true Kahl! Don't be a dick when I'm sincerely apologizing to you."
"You're the dick! What do you want from me?"
"I don't want anything from you, except to be your friend."
"Liar."
"It's true, Kahl. I want for us to be better friends."
Kyle glared at Cartman. "I don't want to be your friend. You've never been nice to me before unless you're trying to get something out of it. We will never be friends because I don't trust you."
"Ahem." The boys both turned their heads to see Mr. Jones, the Health teacher, standing impatiently in the hallway. "If you boys don't mind, I'd like to enter my classroom and start class." Cartman went ahead and took his usual seat in the back of the classroom. Kyle went to sit down near the front, next to Stan and Wendy. Once Mr. Jones had begun his lecture on safe sex, Stan turned to him to ask what Cartman had wanted at the beginning of class.
"He wants to be friends, which is fucking bullshit," Kyle grumbled.
"It's probably just some ploy to get you to do something for him."
"I know. I even told him that. I just don't know what he wants this time."
"Just ignore him dude."
"Easier said than done. Cartman can be pretty persistent… Hey dude," Kyle gestured to the front of the room, "shouldn't you be taking notes?" Stan blushed heavily when he saw Mr. Jones demonstrating how to properly apply a condom.
"Shut up, Kyle!" Stan hissed, lightly punching Kyle in the arm. "Wendy and I are waiting until after we turn eighteen!"
"I know. I'm just teasing you for being totally whipped."
"Whatever dude. If being whipped and in love are the same thing I have no fucking problem with it."
"Only there is a fucking problem with it," Kyle snickered. Stan tried to frown, but couldn't hold back his laugh.
"Is something funny about my demonstration, boys?" Mr. Jones asked irritably.
Kyle grinned. "Not at all, Mr. Jones. There is nothing remotely funny about you putting a condom on that banana." The whole class began to giggle.
"It's unfortunate that you think this demonstration is so humorous, Mr. Broflovski. Why don't you take a moment to cool off in the hallway?"
Kyle felt awkward limping out of the room in front of everyone, but it was relief to have a moment to himself. He slid down the wall next to door and closed his eyes.
Regrettably, his relief was incredibly short-lived as Cartman walked out of the classroom only a few minutes later.
"Jesus," Kyle groaned. "Did you get kicked out too?"
Cartman flashed him the bathroom pass in his right hand. "That demonstration just got me so hot and bothered."
Kyle laughed despite his annoyance. "Well you better go take care of that then."
"No need. I really just wanted to come out here and talk to you."
"Goddammit…"
"The truth is I do need something from you." Kyle eyes snapped to Cartman's guilty expression. He glared daggers at the brown-haired sociopath.
"I fucking knew it! What do you want, fatass?"
Cartman squinted angrily at the use of his old nickname, and sat down on the floor next to him. "I need you to tutor me in English."
Kyle looked at Cartman with a disturbed expression. "You want me to help you study?" It was the most unexpected thing he'd ever heard Cartman say. "Since when do you give a fuck about grades?"
"Since I might not graduate on time!" Cartman looked kind of desperate. "I could pay you if you wanted me to." Kyle's mouth fell open. Cartman loved money more than his own mother. This must be really serious.
"Christ. I don't want your money."
"What do you want? My stuff?"
"No! Fuck. Chill out dude. I'll fucking tutor you."
"Thank you! Thank you, Kahl!" Cartman grabbed Kyle's hand, which was immediately snatched away.
"No! Don't touch me! I'll tutor you as long as you promise to not fucking touch me."
Cartman face fell, but then smiled. "Deal," he said. "I would say we should shake on it, but..." He stood up and started heading down the hallway.
"I thought you didn't need to use the bathroom," Kyle yelled after him.
"Yeah, but there's no fucking way I'm going back to class!" Cartman laughed as he disappeared around the corner. Apparently Cartman felt more confident about his grade in Health than in English.
Had Kyle only imagined his expression changing? Why would Cartman be disappointed by what he said?
After a bit, Mr. Jones came out of the classroom and invited Kyle to rejoin the class as long as he agreed to take things more seriously. As Kyle sat back down in his seat, he wondered if he was going to regret saying yes to Cartman.