Getting into the second half now! Can only say that the Cartman and Heidi blowout was only the beginning of chaos for everyone...

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Kenny zipped up his winter coat, drawing up the hood over his already drawn hoodie protecting his hair from the thick January snowflakes wetting his cheeks and eyelashes. He shoved his gloveless hands into his pockets to gain feeling in his fingers again. He'd sent his applications not a few days back into the Winter semester after his SAT results had finally came in. Not bad for an already leading student in the class. But, there was still an impending answer on Colorado State, UofD...and some expecting Ivy Leagues.

He didn't think there was much point in telling his parents now, if ever. Carol would be a hothead and Stuart would be even more of one. Kenny knew there was gonna be a day they'd have to know but he figured if there was no getting into any Caltech or Standford, there would be nothing to tell. Unfortunately, both Karen and his friends knew as well as Kenny that the further he held it off, the bigger a brick Carol and Stuart were gonna shit when they did know.

Kenny walked across the icy tracks leading to his part of town, watching the significant change in different neighborhoods. His once-gentrified part of town was cleaned by the mayor's standards to at least move the rubble of the once-cultural Sodosopa. Now it was back to being the so-called eyesore the town recognized Kenny's neighborhood to be. Not something a bumpkin town tried to make their leading face.

And for that reason, Kenny thought as he turned onto his lawn, was why his parents would hate to think their son applied to a place like Caltech. Money was one thing, and despite loans something Kenny figured they'd doubt greatly. But also, his parents knew the rest of the world could look at them worst than their own town already did. Sending a McCormick child to California? Even Kenny knew he could save himself the humiliation of showing up in penniless clothing.

He shoved his front door open, trying to block the winter storm following him in. As he closed the heavy old door behind him, he found his mother keeping warm under her grandmother's quilt on the couch, crocheting a sweater she planned to send to Kevin. A way of her showing care for her children who weren't home anymore.

"Hey, ma." Kenny greeted, drawing his layers of hoods back.

"Heya, baby." Carol cleared her soar throat, getting over a cold. "The storm is messin' with the fuse box. Go help your dad in the garage, please."

Kenny shivered at the thought of stepping outside again. "Ma, I have homework."

"That you can't use no computer for if the power is finicky." Carol sternly reminded. "Go, Kenneth."

Her younger son threw his double hoods back up and pulled the drawstring. A father-son time fixing fuses in the garage could've been perfect timing to bring up the scary subject. Except that Kenny wasn't a dumbass to break the news during a storm.

"Wendy."

"Huh?"

"What're you getting?"

Wendy blinked, realizing she was at the front of the Subway line in front of the college cashier who stared at her with a dull frown. She accompanied the rest of the girls out to lunch instead in the cafeteria as a little outing on their first week back after winter break. The last to order in the group, and she hadn't even thought about it when her mind was so occupied.

"Oh, uh, a twelve-inch Subway Club."

"Sorry, it's been taken off the menu."

Wendy pulled out her debit card. "Italian BMT then, thanks.."

She paid for her order, following Red to join the rest as they situated at a near table awaiting their orders. They sat down as Bebe chatted both Nichole and Heidi's ears off. Wendy smiled Heidi's way, though Heidi's best effort back was a small, barely curving up of her lips.

Bebe sucked on her Sprite, groaning as she typed with a single thumb on her phone. "Ugh, stop texting me."

"Donovan? Now?" Nichole asked, suspecting Clyde was asking for something.

"No, he wants a picture of my feet," Bebe said. "He's going through some weird kink ever since Craig and Tweek iced him out."

Red cringed. "Feet aside...he deserves it."

Wendy couldn't help but agree. "I don't see why he'd choose to hang out with those guys over his other friends. Kevin's a jackass and Cart-" she kept wary of the subject Heidi was not yet ready to come around to. "...And those other ones are the same."

"Mm," Bebe swallowed her sip. "I'm kinda into it. Gives me a reason for toe rings in the winter."

"Toe rings?" Nichole yucked.

Wendy fiddled with her plastic straw, making an annoying noise with its rub against the lid.

"What's wrong with toe rings?"

"How do they not chafe when you walk? Or stiffen a knuckle?"

Harvard. Someone ask me about Harvard.

"You don't put them on knuckles. They go below the toe pads. Like regular rings."

Harvard, if someone doesn't ask, my parents will.

Red's eyes wandered about in thought. "What're toe pads?"

"Like where you put rings but toes."

"Heidi?" Wendy needed to divert the subject, or she'd go crazy. "How was Christmas with your grandparents?"

Her friend played with her straw quietly as well. "Nice. They're better at keeping my parents in line, at least."

Red met Nichole's eyes awkwardly.

"I'm sure some Christmas bourbon did the trick." Bebe encouraged.

Heidi shrugged. "For my mom, mostly."

With how much of an ear and eyesore to everyone Heidi's parents were becoming, Bebe was willing to help in ways maybe people hadn't considered. "Y'know, there are methods for parents to realize divorce is the better option faster."

"Bebe.." Wendy warned.

"No, please," Heidi said with tired eyes. She hadn't had proper sleep all break. "I can't convince them, so I don't know what will.."

"Well, messing with money is one way, also the house.." Bebe listed. "Anything that'll draw attention."

Nichole frowned in annoyance. "Are you trying to make things worst after she just had the worst fallout of a crappy relationship?"

Heidi tiredly looked at her friend.

"Sorry.."

"Is there a way I can get my parents to come to a realization without turning the heat on me..?" Heidi asked her friend. She'd rather talk about her parents all day than mull over the most humiliating breakup of her life.

Bebe stirred her straw, batting some not-so-innocent lashes. "Depends if you're willing to hell-raise better than Fartman ever did."

Red couldn't help but agree, biting down a grin. "And get even on him, too."

"Guys," Wendy said. "Maybe let Heidi process everything before she does anything rash?"

Heidi just sipped her drink. Sitting quietly like some show dog was a long overdue process for her already. What did she know about outnumbering an asshole like Eric Cartman with her own shitstorm?

Butters couldn't help but think it was his fault.

No one confirmed it, but no one denied it either. Then again, Butters wouldn't dare bring it up. He wasn't even sure if after everything that went down last semester whether he broke his deal with Cartman or not. Eric hadn't brought it up about telling Butters' parents anything. No one heard anything from him since the fight, except for some communicated things from Clyde. Something about Cartman saying Heidi had it coming.

The boys gathered at the lunch table hadn't bothered to talk about since, either. Kyle looked across at Craig and Stan talking in a mindless conversation over something Broncos related. Did he wanna take action against Cartman? Well, since the third grade yes. But, he felt like he was deserving of something after probably the worst and final straw. Heidi was their friend, someone would have to bring up ringing Cartman's neck first.

"I can't keep rooting for the same lineup," Craig said.

Stan dipped his fry in ketchup. "Maybe one day they'll actually be good."

Kyle nudged Tweek beside him, muttering quietly; "Are we gonna keep ignoring it?"

It was pretty easy to decipher. "Heidi and Cartman?"

"Yes," Kyle said. "Haven't we let the asshole get away with enough?"

"I mean, yeah. Don't you think Heidi's had enough more than any of us?"

It was easy for Tweek to say that. Before Cartman became Heidi's hell, he was pretty much Kyle, Stan and Kenny's problem. "I saw him walking around with that Jessica chick, still. Why do people think he can just get away with this?"

As the others picked up on their discussion, Kenny just shook his head from Tweek's other side. "No one does, but it's not gonna help Heidi."

"Yeah, dude," Stan agreed. "You can help her, or help yourself by bashing Cartman's head in."

"Since when is everyone suddenly playing the better person?" Kyle asked. "This isn't just about Heidi. That fuckwad has gotten away with murder too much!"

"'K-Kay, I don't wanna add to the fire, but we gotta move on." Jimmy intervened.

"What does that mean?" Craig asked, following Jimmy's gaze to the brunette kid leaving the lunch line with his tray. When he spotted Jimmy's wave over, Clyde began walking to the table with hesitance in his step. "What the fuck is he coming here for?"

"I thought he could use the break."

"HE can use the break?" Tweek angrily agreed with his boyfriend. "He's the one who'd rather hang out with people like Cartman! He's no fucking better!"

Stan silently ate his fries with an aggravated scowl. Cartman cheating on Heidi really brought out a bunch of different wars for everyone.

Craig just cast bitter darkness of his eyes towards Clyde as he reached the table. He may have tried to give Clyde the benefit of the doubt at the dance, but after finding out what Cartman did, he couldn't believe Clyde would still associate with him. That was enough to speak volumes for Craig.

"Hey, guys.." Clyde greeted as both Tolkien and Jimmy made room for him.

"'Sup, dude," Tolkien greeted, sharing a high five and shake. Kenny too exchanged a fist bump with Clyde across Craig's front view with Stan and him between them.

"No," Craig dropped his plastic fork to land on his pile of mashed potatoes. He grabbed his tray and got up. "We're not doing this."

Tweek too stood up, and Tolkien arched a brow. "Guys, come on."

"Why should he be welcomed any more than that bastard?" Tweek blamed, getting Clyde to already regret his invite. "He doesn't care about anyone, either!"

"That's not true." Clyde growled.

"Oh," Craig spat, shadowing over Clyde in his seat. "Wanna say that to me?"

Clyde got up with Stan and Tolkien trying to prevent it. "There's a lot I'm starting to wanna say to you.."

"Dude-" Stan sat Clyde back down and got up instead. "Are we serious? Everyone needs to chill."

"Some of us actually need to grow a pair," Tweek argued to a different shivering blond at the table as Craig rejoined his side. Butters shrunk in his seat.

"I agree," Kyle said as he too took his lunch, joining Tweek and Craig on their march of protest. "Everyone in this school moves on too quickly when people get hurt, and it's time we start actually taking it seriously."

"Kyle." Stan called irritably.

"Forget it," He sneered at Butters who sat nervously under his gaze. "And if you really had any sense for Heidi being your friend, you'd apologize for what you did."

Butters stared at his uneaten food guiltily as the three left for another table. Clutching his hungry stomach that roomed with nausea he felt. Kenny patted a palm to his shoulder.

"I mean, this is all getting out of hand." Stan paced across his bedroom floor as Wendy sat on his mattress. She mindlessly played with the Harvard pamphlet in her fingers. One of many her parents always slid under her bedroom door when she was trying to hide from the reminder.

"Everyone hates everyone right now," Stan reminded. "I mean, we all know Cartman brings out the worst of people. But, if I'm being honest, everyone's just kinda making it about themselves."

Stan had fair reasons to be annoyed, but Wendy would play devil's advocate. "Kyle I feel like has good reason."

"For Heidi? We're all worried about her."

"That and," Wendy shrugged over the obvious. "Cartman's always been a little bitch to him. Why should he keep getting away with hurting people?"

"I don't know," Stan grumbled. "What else fills that black void he calls a soul?"

Wendy couldn't help but snort. "Y'know, I can't study right now. Wanna see a movie?"

"More than anything," Stan agreed, walking to the door though his farm-clad dad stood in his straw hat as a barricade. Making Stan jump as he hadn't heard him come upstairs. Randy held a leftover jar of Tegridy's New Year's Specialty sale. "What, dad?"

"You told me all specialty sales from New Year's sold out."

Stan thought he rid of every last one of those jars. While he sold a bunch when his dad and mom were off for Bong-A-Thon, a bunch were left over and he knew Randy would hold him back for more days to sell the rest. Stan had enough time over break spent with weed, he wasn't gonna tolerate it. So, he stored the rest in hiding.

"It was New Year's dad, we had weekend plans at Wendy's lake house."

"That's no excuse!" Randy complained. "Our numbers don't tolerate you slacking on your part of the job!"

"Our numbers? You sell just fine even when I don't work!"

"Gawl, we need to know our audiences, Stanley," his father groaned. "We need to appeal to younger audiences with a young face as our lead."

"I don't wanna be any face of your weed. People will buy it anyway."

"Stan," Randy tried to reason, coming to wrap an arm around his shoulder. "Y'know your mother and I won't be able to carry a business so long as our brains age and become mush."

"Christ.." Stan groaned.

"By the time we're in our retirement manor from all our golden savings," Randy reasoned. "Who's gonna run the works? Shelly refuses!"

"Put Towlie down as a candidate, cuz it still won't be me." Stan argued, trying to pull away though Randy kept a grip on him. His dad being so close in his vicinity after having the balls to treat him like a job more than a son made Stan flare his nostrils in obvious fumes.

"This is a Marsh business! You know Towelie answers from me," Randy said. "Look, you and I both know that trying to get rid of sales as opposed to selling authentic Tegridy is gonna make you a corporate asshole instead of an honest owner!"

"Mr. Marsh," Wendy tried, seeing her boyfriend clutch a threatening fist not far from his father's side. "It's my fault, I begged Stan to visit that weekend."

"Wendy, none of this is your fault," Stan argued, he eyed his dad and pushed him by the side to rid his arm from him. "Hardly yours.."

"Stan, for god's sake," Randy scoffed. His obnoxious laugh only made Stan seethe more, and Wendy tried running a hand to his arm. His pull away from her made her flinch. "Get your shit together."

"Get my shit together!? I'm trying, and you keep ruining it!"

"Stan, geez.." Randy reached into his back pocket, merrily pulling out a tightly rolled blunt. "Maybe we should talk about this on some better levels.."

Stan squinted at the redness in Randy's eyes. "I'm not having this conversation with you high. I'm not having this conversation period!"

The level of goneness in his dad's eyes drove him crazy, and there was no reason to keep telling him this over and over when Randy blocked his ears off purposely to avoid hearing what Stan was saying. He just didn't want to believe his son wanted nothing to do with weed, let alone Tegridy.

"Chill, dude." Randy chuckled patting his shoulder.

"Don't touch me!" Stan barked, shoving Randy's touch away. What once felt assuring to him was a firey ball of irritation to him now. Randy kept trying to push forward to keep Stan from losing his shit as his son unzipped his brown sweater and threw it against his father as a poorly made barrier. "Get out! OUT! GET THE FUCK OUT YOU STUPID ASSHOLE!"

"Stan!" Wendy pleaded.

"Fuck, do you ever listen!?" Stan asked, pointing two gun fingers to his ears. "Do you use the holes in that dull head of yours?!"

"Enough, Stan.." Randy groaned.

"I don't want anything to do with Tegridy!" Stan met his nose to his. "And probably not with you!"

"Stan!" Wendy yanked him back by the arm. "This is getting too serious, just calm down!"

"He won't listen!"

"Then wait until he's sober!"

"Please, when is he ever!?" Stan accused, looking at his father just smiling dopey his way. "What!? What the fuck is so funny!?"

Randy pointed with the unlit joint still in hand. "You're so in deep, you can't see what's happening."

"What?"

His father blew past his lips. "Don't let a girl...define your will to do what's right.."

Wendy blinked, offended but not nearly ready to face a man with his head this far up his ass. Stan let go of Wendy to march angry feet across the floorboards to his brainless father. Stan growled with a red face, pointing behind him at his girlfriend.

"Talk about her like that, you can watch your precious Tegridy burn to the ground."

"Stan.." his girlfriend warned.

"Whatever," Randy already forgot what he said as he lazily showed the jar to Stan. "Now, go put the jars with the oth-"

The hand that grabbed the jar was the same one that sent it flying over Randy's head. Targeting the hallway's oakwood walls as it shattered on impact and scattered nearly into Randy's back though he dove further into the bedroom in shielding. The shrieking sound of breaking glass made Wendy yelp as she kneeled to the floor with two hands protecting the back of her neck similar to Randy.

Stan just stared at his mess, unable to dial down from heated levels.

Randy peered up, looking at the scattered glass and dry hemp amongst the tattered mason jar lid and Tegridy label still stuck to some of the sharp pieces. As he rose up to stand at the same level as his son, he just looked wide-eyed Stan's way. Matching the same frozen expression on his son's face that contorted slowly to realization.

Wendy got up with shaky breath, clutching her heart and finding the mattress as her seat again. Whatever Stan had intended, she hoped to hell that jar was not meant to hit Randy instead of the wall.

"Explain this to your mother once this is cleaned up.." Randy just muttered, daring not to show fear over his only son. He stepped over glass pieces carefully through the door, looking over his shoulder as if he was afraid of being stalked on the way out.

Stan looked at Wendy sitting on his bed. Seeing her scared made Stan's senses wake up.

"Wendy, I'm so sorry.." Stan reached for her trembling hands to take them away from her chest. Her glossy eyes refused to meet his. Stan could barely comprehend how he got here, and if his friends were really the ones getting out of hand. "Wends.."

"Excuse me, what the hell are you talking about!?" Stuart asked over the phone with Carol distressed by his side. He gripped the cord linked from the phone to its wall stand as he paced as far as it would let him in front of the kitchen table. Karen hid behind the corner of the entryway with rounded eyes, quickly avoiding the confrontation as she ran to Kenny's room.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." Karen stammered. She busted into Kenny's door and closed it behind her.

"Hey-!" Kenny rustled in his sheets, shoving his Playboy under his pillow and readjusting his pants. Good thing she caught him right before he started. "Does no one know how to knock!?"

"Lock your door next time," Karen huffed, pressing her back to the door. "You put the school's office and counselor number on your applications, right?"

Kenny threw his sheets off, seeing the crazed worry in his sister's eyes. "Right.."

"The office-"

"KENNETH MCCORMICK!"

Karen swallowed. "-called for home address approval to confirm with the colleges.."

"Oh, fuck me," Kenny hissed, pulling Karen aside in time for Stuart's kick-in on the bedroom door. Karen fell to the mattress in a seat as Kenny braced himself for the winds of his father's howl.

"You applied to California and Massatauchets!?" His father raged. "What'd you do, buy a platinum hoity-toity express card!?"

"Dad-"

"We're paying so you could get some damn physics courses at Colorado State!" Stuart pointed as Carol angrily huffed in joining him in the room. She eyed Karen who peered her head down, putting the pieces together that Kenny wasn't the only one lying about this.

"Did you consider how we'd be able to afford your sister's college!?"

"That's what the fucking scholarship is for!" Kenny barked, never having the patience no matter how soon this conversation had to come.

"EY!" Stuart warned. "Watch your fucking tone, you shit!"

"I thought this through-!"

"Does your father have to plaster it on your forehead to look in the damn mirror!?" Carol protested, stepping past her husband. "We don't have that money, Kenny!"

"If you stopped hollerin' every chance you get and let me explain to you how money actually works-!"

"Don't lecture us about money, boy!" Stuart growled, grabbing another nearby Playboy and launching it to the peeling paint on Kenny's wall. Karen scratched her hair in anxious nerves. Her father approached her brother with growing hoarseness in his voice. Even he thought he could never be this livid with his kids.

"They have loans for school and books," Kenny said, swallowing to prevent the crack in his voice. "With the right grades. And I'll get a job for housing-!"

"And a damn plane ticket I suppose!?"

"I'll work the summer! I just can't do state school!"

"What's wrong with Fort Collins over California!?" His mother asked, looking almost hurt by how disgusted Kenny suddenly seemed by the idea. "You can live with Kevin!"

"I don't want to cram into a tiny apartment with Kevin in Fort Collins!" Kenny said. "I want to go to California and see something other than this hoedown, one-horse bullshit town!"

"Sorry you ain't raised suckin' on silver spoons," Stuart snapped. "But we worked for every damn penny to get you kids schoolin'! Now your running to freakin' Pasadena?!"

"I'm not asking you for anything, please!" Kenny begged, clutching two begging hands in pleading. "Just let me do this!"

Stuart rolled his eyes. "Oh, Christ Kenneth."

"I don't need your money!"

"You clearly don't want anything from us!"

"That's not what this is about!" Kenny said. He was responded with two disbelieving stares from his parents, and he dodged his eyes. It was almost worst than them yelling. "I didn't want to tell you for this same reason."

"Baby," Carol said. "Getting your ducks in a row for some fancy school ain't no different than going to a place like Denver or Fort Collins."

"Then what's the problem?" Kenny asked. "What if we could afford it in some other world?"

"We can't. And we don't need to make any more fools out of this family!"

"Maybe I don't care about what people think of us, anymore!" Kenny said. "I'm tired of the freakin' stamp of poverty! I'm done, I'm leaving!"

Karen grew sensitive, quickly getting up and leaving past her brother and father as her mom watched her go. Carol tried to remain angry but the worry over sending her child into this judgemental world, one like an Ivy League world, was crumbling her strength. She could only provide so little for her kids and didn't need the world to remind her.

"We can't afford that commute, Kenny." His mother reasoned.

"I'll pay for the plane ticket..and I'll get a job." Kenny rubbed his head, tired of repeating himself.

"No," Carol said. "We can't afford that commute."

Kenny looked at his father, who hid his frustration for his wife's sake.

"You go that far, you're just gone..."

"Mom.."

Carol excused herself quickly, covering her building tears as Stuart shot his son a look. He followed his wife out as the gravity of the situation left Kenny in a whole new light of thinking his family truly thought he was that resentful of this life he grew up on. And maybe he was more than he was aware of it.

To be continued...