Not Everything is What it Seems

"Have you...noticed anything different about Garrison lately?" At this, I flick my eyes over to Craig in curiosity. Taking in Mr. Garrison's dopey expression right now it's obvious that something's up.

"Yeah, he looks," Dare I say it. "Happy." We both stare as Mr. Garrison as he ignores our homeroom class, fully interested with his cell phone. The class is practically doing all sorts of weird and wrong doing (as usual), but he doesn't seem to care about it.

"Anyway," I hear Craig say and I return my attention to his grey-blue orbs. "You wanna hang today?" I think about this. Fuck yes, I do! I open my mouth to agree, but I instantly close it remembering the phone call I received earlier this morning from my boss Sam about covering Mandy's shift today.

"As much as I would love to endure more of your sexual advances, I already agreed to cover someone's shift today at work."

"You suck, you know that right?" At this, I continue to stare at Craig with a small permanent smile. If only, he knew…

"No worries," I say instead throwing my arm across his shoulders and squeezing him against me tightly,

"You'll do fine without me...just this one time." Craig pushes my head with a small smirk before scampering off to Kyle.

I smile instantly fades as I make eye contact with Kyle. I've been avoiding him like the plague for the past few weeks and I think he's pretty much picked up on it. I advert my eyes away not wanting to give him any sort of motivation to invite himself over. My eyes flicker over to Stan sitting at his desk a few rows away chatting to Clyde, Token, and Jimmy about something. He looks up for a moment and he notices me staring we share a small smile before he looks away again. With a sigh, I take to staring into space.

Lately, I've been trying to drown myself more and more into my work and Craig, who's been practically attached to my hip. He's no longer brooding over Tweek, but I can tell that the frustration and sadness still lingers. Just a few days ago a Beyonce song played while we were in his car smoking a generous amount of weed he just got before his dealer went out of town for the week and we ended up talking about how much Tweek loved that particular song.

It didn't last long, but just knowing that something as small as a random song on the radio had that effect was telling. I don't mind because I rather listen to someone else talk about their feelings than talk about mine. I'm so scattered lately and weirdly enough Craig continues to put up with my avoidance and lack of...anything really. Well, that's the way I see it anyway. When the bell finally rings, signalling the end of homeroom I quickly grab my notebooks and head to class.

(*)

Tying my hair up in a ponytail and try to do something to pass the time as I sit in the grey faded office like chair settled at the makeshift front desk of the auto shop. I take to glaring at the computer screen in front of me skimming my Instagram and Twitter and hell even Facebook.

I'm bored and wish I could be in the back getting my hands dirty, listening to Sam tell me some strange story about when he was my age. In the meantime, I guess I'll just reply to...girl69outerspace on Instagram about the picture I posted a few hours ago. I even changed the filter to black and white to express how moody I'm being. Ha. My face continues to look unimpressed and impassive as I tap out a reply to her and a few more choice people.

"Do you work here?" I finish my typing and click a few times, scrolling down the page.

"This is the front desk and I am seated here. So yes, I work here," I reply before letting my eyes flit over the computer screen and instantly freezing. Coach Mick raises his eyebrows in a knowing way.

"What's up Coach Mick?" I say innocently and Coach Mick just grins.

"Hey Kenny, I'm good. Is Sam in?"

"Yeah, um, he's in the back working on a car, but I can go and see if he can meet with you really quick?"

"That's alright, I'll wait."

"You sure? I can try to ring him if you want?"

"That'd be great."

I pick up the black phone resting on the large granite desk and dial a handful of memorized digits before pressing one of the labeled buttons. As the sound of continuous ringing envelopes my ears I try to pretend that I don't notice Coach Mick nodding along to the explicit lyrics of 2 phones. When the ringing finally stops Sam's voice echoes in the receiver.

"Yeah Ken, this better be good, Lance and April need my help."

"You have a visitor at the front." It's quiet on the other end for a second and all my ears register is the sound of papers rustling before Sam speaks again.

"This better not be one of those jokes you kids tend to play."

I lean back in the comfy chair, "I give you my word it's not."

"Alright," Is all Sam says before the call ends and I hang the phone up with a satisfying clink.

I glance at Coach Mick and he's still bobbing along to the rap music playing through the shop's speakers as he sits on the comfy waiting bench across from me. "He'll be here in a sec. Can I get you anything?" I ask and he glances up at me.

"No, I'm fine."

"Cool." I turn my attention back to the computer screen clicking on all my new notifications.

"Hey, Kenny?"

"Yup?"

"You alright there?"

"Yeah, I'm okay. Why?"

"You just seem...heavily distracted."

"I'm good."

"Really," Coach Mick says and it sounds so skeptical like he knows I'm completely bullshitting him. I nod slowly before replying.

"Yup."

"What are your future plans after school ends," Coach asks and I try not to let on how irritated I slightly am by that question.

"I don't know. I'm kind of just trying to focus on what's going on now. Live now think later, right?"

"Yeah, I hear you. I just don't believe you hadn't, at least, thought about it?" He continues to pry.

"Well, of course, I've thought about it, but nothing really sticks out to me."

"Hmm, nothing? You're a smart boy Kenny, you'll settle on something surely."

"Maybe," I say indecisively, "I'm thinkin' of skipping out on college, though. I mean I've got a good job and I bet I can make a living like this."

Coach snorts and my eye lift from the computer screen to focus on him as continues to do whatever on his large phone. "And why would you do that? Look," He looks up from his phone, "You're smart enough to go. You have the potential-"

"Not to be rude, but can I ask why're you telling me this?" I fully direct my attention on Coach Mick and he finally looks up from the phone in his massive hands. "I don't play a sport, I'm not any sort of club so how would you even-why do you even care?" I ask sounding a bit bitter even to my own ears.

"Just because you don't do all of those things doesn't mean I'm not lookin' out for you. I've come to the conclusion a long time ago that what people say is hardly what things really are. You prove that. For example, you have straight A's in most of your courses especially in your math and science classes, but I don't have to tell you what most people in the school say. Or even what you'll say about yourself." I'm silent and a little stunned (okay more than a little). I've never bragged about my grades, I usually trash my report cards just to keep people from asking, so how does he know all of this?

"Don't play me for a fool Kenny. You don't have to dumb yourself down for other people's sake and you don't have to pretend like nothing's bothering you. That being scared of what people think doesn't bother you, it's normal."

"Easy for you to say you don't seem to be afraid of what people think," I mumble hinting at the fact that he just switched my frame of mind about him completely. "I honestly thought you were just a huge super-jock."

"Like I said not everything is what people say. And not everything is what it seems."

And in complete cliche fashion, Sam finally makes his appearance, scaring the shit out of me as he clamps his thick meaty hands on my shoulders in greeting. He laughs at having succeeded in scaring the fuck out of me as he walks around the large desk.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Sam says greeting Coach Mick. His words contrast greatly to the huge smile on his face as he envelopes Coach into a hearty hug.

"Is that any way to greet your brother?" Brother? My eyes widen at that as they both release each other and begin talking about something I can barely even register over thoughts rapidly swarming through my head. I look at both of them and I feel my blood run cold. It's there. I don't know how I didn't notice it before, but the resemblance is fucking shocking.

"You two are-"

"Twins," Coach Mick says finishing my thought as they both face me,

"Yeah," I agree, throwing my hands up in slight awe.

It's weird the more I look at them both, Coach has sort of a frat boy meets 'I'm a living and functional adult' look. Whereas Sam has more of a laid back meets renegade look considering the words 'Fuck off' written in huge white block letters on his black shirt and dark distressed jeans.

Eventually, I return my attention back to the black computer screen, moving the mouse around to wake it up. I begin scrolling down my Twitter page to not seem as if I'm obviously listening in to what they're talking about.

"-Well, I guess I can spare a few minutes to talk. You still up for dinner tonight though?"

"Always. Same place, as usual, I'd never blow you off."

"Same," Sam snarks to which Coach rolls his eyes, but I can still see how fond he is of his twin, "Plus you skipped out on our rematch down at the gym Saturday."

"I saved you from embarrassment. Plus I had arrangements."

"Was it that Kayla girl you brought over to mom's last Sunday?"

"No."

"Really? Then who?" I try not to laugh as Coach mumbles something I can't hear but causes Sam to burst into laughter.

"Fuck off, are you serious?"

"Don't be an asshole, Sam."

"I'm not, I'm not. Just, really? Candice?" Sam's body racks with laughter, he even wipes small tears from the ends of his eyes, "Okay. I support your decision."

"Yeah, yeah. Anyway, just wanted to see you and drop this off," Coach picks up a bag and Sam takes it greedily.

"Thanks, man. Now, I gotta get back to work, something just doesn't feel right to leave Lance and April alone together," Sam says giving me a wink.

"Hey, don't wink at 'em, he's just a boy!" Coach says in a fake country accent.

"Yeah, well Kenny here is my buddy, he knows a lot." The sound of something crashing in the back echos followed by the loud screech of "You idiot!" Most likely coming from April directed at Lance.

"God," Sam says stressing the word. Coach's phone chimes loudly and Sam smirks, "Well duty calls," He claps his twin on the shoulder before leaving the lobby. I'm surprisingly able to contain my laughter at the look on Coach's face.

"Is it like this every day?"

"Yeah, pretty much," I say shrugging impishly.

"Anyway, I'm gonna run, but don't forget what we talked about Kenny and," Coach pauses at the desk,

"And if you need some advice you can always come talk to me." I nod at the genuineness in his voice and he leaves out of the large glass double doors.

(*)

I gotta do it. It's eating me alive just thinking about it. I look in the rear view mirror at the offending object in the backseat of my car and with one final sigh I look away. I park my car across the street under a busted lamp post and wait. I don't know how this will turn out, but I have to get rid of this thing. I turn on my phone after having it off for the majority of the day and instantly notifications pop up on my phone and in the process of reading through them, one stands out to me intensely.

From: Kyle

'Can we meet up to talk?'

I agree we do. I grab the object next to me and exit my car, letting the door thump closed behind me, I make my way to the edge of the yard in front of me. The sun is setting right now and I really want to just get this over with. Finally, the door opens and he hasn't seen me yet, but as soon as he does he freezes, his green flittering over my frame.

"What are you doing here?"

"I should be asking you the same thing Kyle," I comment making my way up Stan's driveway and towards him. "I think you forgot something a few weeks back," I throw Kyle's leather jacket at him. His eyes widen with shock before instantly morphing into a hard coolness.

"So what now? What do you want?" Kyle asks completely composed and it just irks me.

"You tell me. Look, you're one of my best friends okay, but," I stop trying to keep my own composure,

"Don't do this, don't-"

"Do what?" He asks nonchalantly.

"Don't fuck Stan over. I know you've got some sort of plan or game running and I'm asking you to put a stop to it." Kyle doesn't say anything, he just continues to stare at me with indifference, but I know from experience that Kyle's anger tend to be very unexpected. "You've hurt him before and things seem to be good between you two now, but…"

"What about what Stan's done to me? That's all I ever hear, that it's me that fucked things up, that everything is always my fault."

"That's not true," I try to say, but it doesn't seem to faze Kyle

"No, it is," I say nothing to this and I ultimately feel like shit for it. Kyle just nods as if accepting my silence as agreement. "You know what, whatever I do is none of your concern."

Kyle tries to pass me, but I catch his forearm in my grip, halting him, "It is when it concerns Stan. Stop it, Kyle, stop this scheme," He snatches his arm from my grip.

"Don't tell me what to do. Anything Stan gets he deserves... he wasn't the only one was hurt." Kyle's shoulder shoves into me hard as he make his way down the street to his parked car and speeding away. I walk back to my car and waste no time in pulling off.

Even as I speed through the streets of downtown South Park with no set destination in place I grit my teeth, Kyle's words playing on replay in my head. The only thing that sticks out to me in my anger-induced thoughts is that I have to do something about this. I have to stop whatever revenge plot Kyle has set into place.