Plume pt. 1

It's just brunch. That is what my parents said after I dragged myself downstairs this morning, dragging my sock-covered feet across the marble floors to the kitchen. I pause after pouring a hefty amount of cinnamon toast crunch into my bowl at the words that follow. Brunch with Nichole and her parents. My first question was if she even agreed to this to which my parents promptly confirmed.

Huh. I was surprised she still wanted to speak to me. I am grateful because I am very much still in love with her, but I am not what she needs and I hate myself for it. So, reluctantly, I agreed.

And now as I sit among both sets of parents I feel how horrible of an idea this is. I am seated across from Nichole's father William who completely hates me and I ignore the snide looks he aims my way over his menu. He's never liked me and the feeling is mutual. All that matters is that he's a good father to Nichole, everything else is irrelevant to me. Out of respect for Nichole, we try to keep our dislike and disagreements to a minimum.

"Hey, welcome. I will be your waiter for today. Can I start you all off with refreshments?" Sandy asks and I find how hardworking he is admirable. We just got back into town this morning and he still found a way to make it to work.

"What's up Toke!" Sandy greets and I stand to give him a hug like I didn't just see him eight hours ago.

" 'Sup Sandy, don't work too hard," I tease, taking my seat.

"Nah, man, I'm fine. As you can tell I love this job."

"Don't let them know that," Mr. Daniels pipes up and I roll my eyes at the older man and Sandy just pats me on my shoulder reassuringly, not taking offense at all.

"It's all good, sir." Sandy proceeds to take our drink and appetizer orders. "Okay, I will go put these orders in and-"

"Actually," William starts, stopping Sandy in his tracks with a sole raise of his finger. "If you all wouldn't mind I would like to place my entree order as well. I have prior engagements that I must attend after we end here."

"No, that would be fine," My father agrees, and Sandy pulls his black notepad back out and we all place our meal orders as well. Sandy finally leaves and we are all forced to stare at each other for a painfully awkward moment before my mother strikes up a conversation with Nichole's mother Michelle. As our mothers talk about new whole food deals and discounts, Willam and my father Steve eventually find something to converse about.

I will never understand why anyone would take an interest in someone like William Daniels. My hatred for the guy may be unwarranted and purely because he never hid his dislike for me from the moment we met, but I stand on it. Within the course of my relationship with Nichole, I have proved to be nothing, but the perfect boyfriend. I come from an exceptional two-parent household whom he has a great relationship with, and I am in the top one percent of my class. What more could a guy ask for when it comes to who they would allow their daughter to date? But, whatever, I just venomously dislike the guy.

"So," Nichole begins a while later in the midst of our meals. "Are you excited for Spring?" And there it is. I knew this was all too good to be true. I connect eyes with Nichole and she doesn't back down, twisting the knife even further. It's the reason why I love the girl, she's amazing, and her intelligence rivals my own, but her thirst for revenge is even stronger.

She knows that I haven't told my parents about not going to college. And the realization that this was a trap settled in over me. By agreeing to sit down not only with her parents but my own proved this theory. I sit back in my wrought iron chair and shake my head silently. She knows me so well. "College acceptance letters, graduation…"

"Ooh, prom, no graduation! I still remember mine." My mother sighs happily, reminiscing on her previous years with a warmth that reminds me of home, I find myself leaning forward to listen. "My mother baked her world-famous cherry pie. She baked two, one just for me and another for my younger brother and father. I remember prom and my dress, it was purple, a deep purple with butterfly sequins. I made it myself. Are you excited, Token, for the memories? It all goes by so fast."

"Yes, Mom, I can't wait to-"

"And I can't wait either Linda," Nichole pitches in. I agree that it all is going really fast. It seems like the only thing we can hold onto is the future and our plans. I also have quite a few schools I'm looking forward to. And you Token?"

"I am looking forward to the rest of the school year as well."

"What about schools?" Sandy stops by briefly to refill our drinks which gives me enough time to contemplate an appropriate answer.

"Oh, I'm not in a rush, I am more interested in spending time with my friends."

"What are you planning to do after school ends?"

I take a sip of my coke before responding, not trying to appear as if I'm dodging the question, which is exactly what I am doing. "I'm sure I will find something."

"But something more definite?" Nichole's Father asks, adding to the conversation.

"I'm sure with my exceptional grades and excellent extracurricular activities and charity work I will make a great candidate for any college or university in the future. For now, I wouldn't mind a part-time job."

"So, with your 'excellent' extracurricular activities and grades, where do you see yourself in ten years? What goals do you have?"

"Well, who has time to really sit down and plan out the next year let alone the next ten years of my life."

"A smart man."

"William," Michelle starts in an attempt to stop the older man's prying. Too late for that.

"Excuse me?"

"Any man that fails to plan, plans to fail."

"Life is unpredictable."

"It is. At eighteen I knew what I wanted. I knew I wanted a wife and a kid. I planned to make that a possibility. I joined the army, and by twenty-one I earned a bachelor's degree in engineering and by twenty-five I had a master's in business management."

Token meets the older man's eye head-on. "First of all, I'm not you. Second, I don't need to be like you."

The sound of silverware clattering causes everyone to stop.

"I told you."

"You told her what?"

"Dad. How about we just change lanes here," Nichole says, trying to get ahead of whatever her father is prepared to say. I notice that she now seems visibly uncomfortable.

William sets his napkin on the table, shaking his head. "I told her that you were not serious. And that she shouldn't be too concerned about planning a life with you. The chances of you two being together in the next ten years or even the next year are slim to none.

"Daddy, we have a future. I love-"

"Nichole. As far as I'm concerned you're both just playing house."

"You're wrong, so please just stop this."

"If I'm so wrong, tell me why the boy you claim to be in love with hasn't applied to any of your schools?"

"You should watch yourself, William. How do you even-"

"I told him," Steve speaks up.

"So you all have been talking about us behind our back, what kind of-" my mother sends me a warning look that causes my next words to dry up on my tongue.

However, I persist without a few choice words. "You are supposed to support us. You've been waiting for us to fall the entire time," I accuse, standing up now, not caring that we are making a scene.

"We love you two together. Nichole is the daughter I've always wanted and William and Michelle are the best friends we can ask for," Linda says. "But we have to be the adults in this situation or we will be failing you."

"Why are you so defensive, Toke? Tell them it isn't true," Nichole pipes up, looking at Token now. I can feel her gaze on me. This was her way of getting me to change my mind and take back what I said about not going to college. I look at her and her mahogany brown eyes scream at me that it's not too late.

I can see her willing to pour over hours of college applications with me in order to get them in on time, solidifying our future together and pulling me away from the unmarked door that lies ahead of me. Saving me from a life of unsurety and perhaps regret.

I look away and direct my gaze at my parents. The parents that have loved and supported me my whole life. The very first people who sat me down and told me I was great, explained the expectations of a black man of my stature in this world let alone South Park. I never wanted to let them down. I still don't. I love them so much that I hate them.

I hate them for ever telling me I was great and that I was going to change the world. I hate the boulder that sits on my shoulders. I hate the same picking of my flesh as I succeed in everything I do and love the utter chaos I feel when I'm not the best. I hate the false sense of purpose given to me from birth. I've always envied my friends' ability to choose what they wanted. For me, it was always expected.

Furious tears threaten to spill from my eyes. "Why," I ask them. "Was this some sort of intervention? Were you all in on this?"

"We hoped that you would change your mind. And we wanted everything out on the table."

"We know you were avoiding talking about your future, son. We want you to reconsider."

William who has begun eating again shrugs uncaringly. "Humph, you know the military is always open."

Token rolls his eyes at the older man. "And you teamed up with this asshole?" I sound hysterical, but I don't give a fuck anymore.

"Token!" Linda admonishes.

"No, no, let the boy speak. He's an adult, right? The military will do him wonders, it did for me."

"And look how wonderful you turned out."

"TOKEN," It was now Nichole's turn to stop me, but her words barely affected me.

William takes a bite of his roasted garlic potatoes, gathering a bit of sauce along with it before speaking. "I know I am an asshole, but what are you?" He takes another bite before patting his lips with his folded-up white napkin. "You're just a boy scared to take advantage of the luxuries that life and your parents have afforded you.

You're ungrateful. And you sit in my home, day after day, and lie to my daughter and expect me to like you. She may love you, but I do not have to. All that they are asking," he adds, accentuating that he, himself has nothing else to say to me, "Is that you be honest."

"You want my honesty? You don't think that it's been eating me up that I couldn't be? You want honesty, Nichole? Mom, Dad? I haven't applied to one school. I don't want to go to an Ivy League or any college for that matter." As I say this, I can hear my mother gasp, but I continue unrelenting. "I am never going to be what any of you want me to be."

Nichole is crying silently, hot tears pouring as she stares blankly at my actions. And I'm burning on the inside, but I have to get this out. "But that doesn't mean I don't love you. I love you more than anything and that's why I can't be with you."

"What?" Nichole's voice cracks.

"It wouldn't be right to allow you to be with someone like me. You deserve someone who cares about his future, who knows what he wants or plans things out. I'm burned out. And I probably will never forgive myself for letting you go, but I promised when I first saw you, that I would protect you and your best interest. This is me keeping my promise."

"So, that's it," Nichole screams, standing up, the iron chair scratching against the concrete harshly. "You're leaving me?"

I wanted to say so many things at this moment. I wanted to run over to the other side of the table, embrace a crying Nichole, and reassure her that I would never leave. And it would be the truth because all this time I knew she would be the one to leave me.

Instead, I stayed resolute in my decision and my words. I love her so much, I owe her this. She is going to be someone great. And I...I can't see the forest for the trees right now.

As both mothers comfort Nichole, I take my leave, exiting the restaurant with a harsh desperation that I feel in my chest. Once inside of my car, I allow myself to breathe, but it doesn't last long as my breath hitches and I'm overwhelmed with tears, and frustrated groans over what I just did. I love Nichole, and my body shakes at the realization that I would have to learn to breathe without her.

I cry until I hear sirens. I don't know where they are coming from, but the loud insistent ringing continues over and over to the point that I am convinced that it is all in my head. Searching for the noise, my eyes land on my phone sitting in the cup holder. It's Craig. I try to control my breathing and answer the phone, knowing that he wouldn't call for this long if it wasn't important.

The ride to the airport was tumultuous. Kyle is cold, colder than usual. I watched as Kyle contacted Sharon and made conversation about how her day was and other light-hearted things. And with his usual charm and ease, he asks if Shelly is coming home for the holiday break, but I could see how it physically pangs him to keep a grip on his emotions.

"California?" Kyle's voice seemed to echo within the confines of his. What the fuck was Shelly doing all the way in Cali? Looking at the time on my phone it was a quarter to ten and checking the flight times from Colorado I bet Stan touched down in California hours ago. Panic started to rise within me and I closed out all of the tabs on my phone as I tried to calm down.

Kyle lied effortlessly, saying something about spending a few days over at Cartman's house because of a school project. I was quietly relieved that Sharon hadn't suspected anything. Kyle exchanged further pleasantries, ended the call, and made the quickest right turn I'd ever seen as we continued traveling the downtown area.

"Kyle," I start, but I am immediately interrupted.

"Kenn, don't." Kyle continues to grip the leather steering wheel and I'm surprised that it hasn't broken at this point. "Just don't."

I watch Kyle's pained facial features and instantly feel remorse. I regret pushing my friend away. I regret being so caught up over something so stupid and I hate that it took something like this to happen for me to realize. I was just hurt. I don't understand how after everything that transpired Kyle could swoop in, play Mr. Nice Guy and Stan accept him.

I'm not taking away anything Stan did because he could be an asshole too, but he cried to me. I would sit at Starks night after night, day after day, and listen to him blame himself for the cold asshole Kyle had become. I never understood it, but I was there. I love Kyle to death, but he was ruthless.

I feel like a bastard. Even though we said we never choose sides, somehow it seems like we all did. This realization makes me feel guiltier. It makes me question my own intentions as well.

Was I angry because I am attracted to Stan and other than Butters he was the first guy I ever kissed and liked? Is it my affections that are crowding my judgment? Maybe. Putting all this information behind me I focus on the matters at hand; saving the Marsh siblings. Starting with being here for my best friend.

"What do you need me to do?"

As we came up with a plan and rang up everyone in the group he gave straightforward details and instructions. And I didn't push for further explanation and helped out wherever I could.

(*)

Now, at the airport after going through the usual procedures we meet everyone at the entrance to get our tickets. Kyle removes a black credit card from his wallet and I bite my cheek at how much this is going to cost. Kyle's going to have a lot of explaining to do after all this is over.

"Okay, and how may I help you all today," The nice and chipper blonde guy behind the counter asks. He gives Kyle a winning smile, but the boy doesn't even notice.

"I need to buy eight tickets for the next flight to California."

"That's a large order, family gathering?" Kyle doesn't answer so I pitch in, trying to keep any suspicion away.

"Yeah, it's our grandmother's 90th birthday, we're just bringin' a few family friends along."

"Well, congratulations to her, I just came back into town from my aunt and uncle's 30th anniversary. Is business class okay?"

"Sure," Is all I say not really knowing what that means among other following questions, but I try my best considering that Kyle's not in the right…state of mind to be pleasant.

"Okay, and I just need a name on file."

"Kyle Broflovski," The redhead beside me finally speaks up, handing over the card.

"Oh, it looks like you already have a reservation."

"What?" We ask in unison.

"Yes, it was made four days ago and for exactly eight passengers. And there's an upgrade, first class!" The man hands Kyle his card back and he puts it away, his armor facade breaking briefly at the turn of events. The man continues with what I assume are usual proceedings and hands over the tickets with another smile.

"You guys have a very generous family, that's for sure. Have a safe flight."

"Indeed we do. Thank you," I say and the man waves us off before taking the next family.

Once we're all checked in and at the right terminal we all prepare to wait the next hour and a half out with some of us charging our phones, grabbing snacks and food.

Clyde offers Kyle a sandwich and he quietly declines that and anything else anyone tries to offer him. Craig sits by Kyle the whole time and I try not to be obvious as I watch them talk quietly amongst each other. I continue to engage with Token who looks to be far away from here and just hums at everything Clyde (who won't stop eating) is saying.

"Clyde, can you stop stuffing your face for one goddamn minute." Oh, and Cartman who is unsurprisingly annoyed by this entire situation.

I spare a look over at Butters and Tweek as they talk quietly with each other, occasionally laughing about something.

"What dude?" Clyde asks with a mouthful of Turkey on Rye. "This is how I cope. I need food to mellow me out and stop me from looking like this fucker," he says, using his thumb to point at Token.

"Don't point at me, asshole."

"Then stop acting like the world is ending idiot," Clyde quips back. "What's up with you?"

"Nichole and I broke up." The three of us gasp, embarrassingly and I close Clyde's still-full mouth.

"Her parents and my parents completely ambushed us and I was forced into a corner."

"A corner? How?" Cartman asks, almost contemplatively.

"I told Nichole the truth, that I haven't applied for any colleges and that I don't want any of the plans she's made for us. I don't even know what I want to do with my life. Then I ended things because newsflash I'm an asshole who doesn't deserve to be happy."

"Tokem you deserve to be happy," Cartman says and we wait for him to continue. "What? You're still an asshole."

"I'm sorry, man, I know how much Nichole means to you," Clyde says once he finally fucking swallows his food. I express similar sympathies, but I'm still in a state of shock because of his words. Out of all people, Token doesn't have it figured out.

Token; the voice of reason, the boy who we all just knew would go to a college of his choosing, become a lawyer or a doctor or something. The Token who would have a successful career with an equally successful wife and kids did not want any of that. And even though Token is upset and desperately sad right now, he doesn't realize that he just broke the mold. He just did something that I've been afraid of doing because of what everyone would think. He did it.

Conversation steers to other routes, Token's mood slowly improves, and I chance another glance over at Kyle and Craig. Shit!

Kyle catches mine and I quickly turn away as if it never even happened, tuning back into the trio in front of me.

"Hey," There's a hand on my shoulder and I look up to see Kyle standing there, motioning me to follow him. I do so, wondering what the redhead could want to talk about.

"I-" We both start and I pull back rubbing the back of my neck apprehensively, motioning for him to continue.

Kyle clears his throat, appearing to not want to go first, but in true fashion, he rises to the occasion and continues. "I'm not really in the best headspace right now, and I'm not the bad guy that you're trying to make me out to be either. Well, not fully." I hold back a chuckle at that last part as he continues. "I know we're not in the best place, but…thanks, for coming along." Kyle turns to leave, but I grab his arm, stopping him in his tracks, and dropping my nonchalant facade. If Kyle can get over his own huge ego then so can I.

"I'm-I'm sorry man. I hate that it's taken for everything to go to shit for me to say it. I just panicked, okay? You and Stan are my best friends and we all have reached some sort of equilibrium. Things weren't perfect, but there was no more crying and fighting. I-" My voice cracks and I hate it. "I love you man, but I know you. This can go only one or two ways between the two of you."

Silence hangs between the two of us. It's unspoken, but we both know that things can either be really fucking good or go completely nuclear. Kyle looks disheartened, but understanding. Swallowing hard, I trudge forward, "So, I'm letting go. I want to be here for the both of you and if that means I have to watch this shit go to hell again then so be it."

I pull Kyle into a hug. "Call me Switzerland." After a moment Kyle hugs me back and I'm happy I have my friend back.

"Does this mean we can talk about what happened between you and Butters?"

I pull back and stare at the sheepish red-head. "What?"

"Dude, I heard you. Both of you." There are very few things that can shock me and this is one of them.

I admittedly fish mouth, searching for something to say, but luckily it doesn't last long as our flight is announced over the intercom, and begins to board.

Once we've finally onboard I try not to look amazed by our first class sets. It isn't hard as I'm seated next to Kyle who constantly checks his phone every fifteen minutes, but carries on as if he didn't just drop a huge bomb on me.

I finally find the words to ask, "How? I thought you and Stan were out for dinner with everyone else.

"Stan was. I stayed behind. That was quite a show you guys put on by the way," he comments languidly, a small grin curving the ends of his lips, a brief glimpse of his usual self before it disappears again. "Plus, this is the longest I've ever seen you and Butters not interact."

I'm still stuck on Kyle knowing about me and Butters and potentially my newly found interest in guys. My suspicions were answered by Kyle's next question, "So, how long have you 'liked' guys?"

I push myself down in my seat, trying to disappear into the floor.