Kyle had gotten back to the art room before he picked up his phone and dialed his father's number.
"Broflovski, Stone, and Crichton" a cheery receptionist greeted as she picked up the line.
"This is Kyle Broflovski. Can I speak to my dad please?"
"Is this an emergency?"
"Yes!" It wasn't like Kyle was in the habit of calling just to chat.
"Hold, please." Kyle waited several agonizing seconds while rage ballooned in his chest. He had barely managed to restrain it with the receptionist. Finally, Mr. Broflovski answered.
"Kyle? Is everything okay?"
"I'm fine. Why did you tell Tweek he couldn't mention me in court?"
Gerald took on his overly rational tone. "I explained this to you, Kyle. You're too unreliable as a witness. If Richard Tweak's lawyer saw your name on the witness list, the first thing he'd do is look up your medical history."
"I agreed not to testify. I didn't agree that Tweek should be forbidden from telling the court that I was there."
"Kyle, we really should be having this conversation later."
"No. We're having it now. This isn't the fucking Pentagon. Nobody's listening in."
"Watch your language, young man."
"You're making him more nervous than he already is, which is already really damn nervous because he has to testify against his psychopathic parents. On top of that, do you realize you're encouraging him to lie under oath?"
"I've explained this to you. That's how it's done in the courtroom. Lawyers do everything they can to gain an advantage over their opponents."
Kyle gripped his free hand against his wrist. He knew that. The past few months had given him a good view of what his father did at his job and how he frequently sided with the wrong people. Cartman would be ecstatic if he knew how many cases his father had helped suppress at the behest of the city and his wealthier clients.
"I think you'd be at a major disadvantage if your client is dead."
"How did you hear about that? Wait, Kyle, don't tell your mother about this. She's already stressed enough."
Screw you. "Will you ease up on Tweek? I don't care if he mentions that I was there."
"It creates complications," Gerald fussed. "You didn't report to the police like you should have, and that puts you in a legal quandary. It's easier just to leave you out of it altogether. For your sake."
"Fine, I'll report to them now."
"No, don't!" Gerald ordered. "Don't do anything. Look, I'm sorry if you're upset about this. I was trying to help you."
"I'm fine. Help Tweek first."
"Okay. Please don't tell your mother about this."
Kyle hung up without making any promises. Before he realized it, he had slid down to the floor. The bruises from the beating Craig gave him started protesting again and he was very tired — tired enough that he did not think he could get back to class.
"Kyle?"
He had no idea how long Stan had been there or how much he heard.
Stan's heart had jacked up to his throat when he saw Kyle collapse to the floor. He immediately ran forward to check on his friend.
"Kyle?" He gently laid his hand on his friend's shoulder. "Can you hear me? Are you all right?"
"Fine," Kyle slurred. "Tired."
"I'm gonna call your mom."
"Don't."
"I won't if you can stand up."
Kyle's legs shifted position a little, but other than that, Stan saw no major effort to stand.
Stan immediately sought his phone, only to find out it had run out of juice. He dropped it back into his pocket and lifted Kyle's phone from Kyle's limp fingers. He pressed Sheila's number. "Hi, Mrs. Broflovski? It's Stan. Kyle's had a panic attack or something." He automatically held the phone away from his ear while Sheila wailed. "He's fine now. Just exhausted. Besides, there's been a big power outage so they'll probably let us out of school early. Okay, thanks. We're by the cafeteria entrance."
After hanging up, he knelt back to the floor. "Are you still awake?"
"Yeah," Kyle mumbled. He started shivering, and Stan rubbed his arm, like he had when Kyle was in the hospital. "What's wrong with me?"
"It's probably from the adrenaline rush wearing out. I've never seen you so angry. What did Craig do?"
"Beat me up. Said it was my fault that Tweek-" Kyle breathed heavily. "I fixed it."
"He was probably lying."
"He wasn't."
Before long, a car horn honked. Stan helped lift Kyle to his feet and brought him outside.
"Oh, my Bubbe!" Sheila started to untangle herself from the seatbelt, but Stan quickly said. "I've got him" before she could leap from the driver's seat and smother her son with hugs. By then, Kyle was able to move his arms to secure his seat belt. Stan climbed in next to him.
"Stan, you're bleeding," Kyle said. He raised his arm to brush at a bloody spot on Stan's jacket shoulder. In the broad daylight, though, Stan realized it was Kyle's blood. It was running from his nose.
The house was blessedly empty when Bebe returned. The first thing she did was vault up to the study and retrieve her phone. She counted eleven texts from Wendy, all offering vague apologies.
Wendy picked up immediately when Bebe called her. "Where were you?" She demanded. "I've been trying to reach you all day."
"Shopping."
"You went shopping?"
"Yeah." Bebe hated being put in the position to defend herself from her fun-impaired friend. "I was stressed, okay?"
"Oh, Bebe. I'm sorry. Getting you to pump Clyde for information was a bad idea. It didn't even matter anyway. It's been a strange day. All this drama happened and we still hardly know anything."
"Yeah, I heard." Bebe roamed downstairs and started searching the fridge for a sparkling water.
"Bebe, every single electric system in the school shorted out for no apparent reason. Principal Victoria had to send people to go to each classroom because the intercom stopped working. It's going to take days for them for fix everything because they can't even figure out what went wrong or who's supposed to be responsible for it."
"That sucks," Bebe replied, though she partially tuned out. Only Wendy would find a power outage more important than the fight earlier that morning. She could get fascinated by the most boring topics.
"You know what else is weird? I had charged my cell phone last night but after the power went out, the battery had completely run down. So did nearly every else's that I talked to."
Bebe remained unimpressed. "You make it sound like we're in some alien movie. Maybe you're watching too much Mr. Who."
"It's Doctor Who. Bebe, it's not an obscure show. Red and Heidi watch it too."
"Are they also drooling over David Tennant?"
"He's a talented actor. There's nothing wrong with admiring an actor with talent." Wendy softened her voice. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry about earlier. We're probably going to have to nix the plan, unless Tolkien or Jimmy decide they want to do something. Which they probably won't, because guys never think of these things. We don't even know what hospital Tweek's at."
Bebe decided against reminding Wendy they had arrived at the exact same conclusion when Kyle was in the hospital. "I forgive you for that. But," she emphasized, "everyone knows that Tom Holland is the superior British actor."
"I guess he's okay for mainstream movies."
"You have such refined tastes, Wendy," Bebe joked.
The back door opened and Bebe jumped. Luckily only her mother waltzed in with a bag of groceries. "Oh, Wendy, my mom's home. Catch you later."
"Want me to help with that?" She asked.
"Oh, sure Bebe," her mother answered with her beautiful melancholy timbre. "It'll be just us tonight. Andre's still in meetings."
"That's good," Bebe said. "I like it when it's just us."
"You'll warm up to Andre eventually. In fact, you might get the chance to spend more time with him very soon."
Bebe froze as she tightened her grasp on a bunch of carrots. "I will?" She echoed.
"Yes. You know I have a MLM convention in Boulder next week?"
Bebe had not known that specifically, although her mother did go to those functions several times before. "Yeah."
"Well, I'm thinking it might be a good idea to let Andre stay here that week. To keep an eye on you."