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“Kyle?!” His mother’s voice called softly from the other side of the door. “Are you ready to talk about it?”
The redhead didn’t bother to answer.
It had been like this for two weeks. Two excruciating, long, grueling weeks. Kyle Broflovski had been skipping school, extracurriculars and parties with his friends for two weeks .
Because time didn’t have any meaning to Kyle anymore.
“No!” He finally called back, and the sound of retreating footsteps confirmed today’s battle had been won. He could relax, at last.
Every day since that night , Kyle had opened the door to his bedroom once per day. He’d go retrieve food from the fridge, a water bottle from the garage, and retreat back to his room. His mom had tried to stop him once, but he’d simply stood still, unresponsive until she’d moved. Same with his father, though his father made the mistake of trying to touch him.
At the touch, Kyle had dropped to the floor like deadweight, screaming until his father had backed off. As the redhead yelled and yelled, the older man began crying about how his son was surely possessed.
“We aren’t Catholic enough for that shit,” Ike had commented flatly from the dining table, seated beside his mother who had spilled an iced coffee all over herself in panic from the sight of her son in such a state. Too distracted to tell her younger son off for language.
Eventually the sirens had quieted in Kyle’s mind and he stood up as if nothing had happened. Within the next minute he had food and water and was retreating to his room.
That was a turning point with his father, who didn’t try anything again.
But his mother, everyday she came to his door like clockwork, begging and pleading for him to talk.
What she didn’t understand was that Kyle couldn’t. There was nothing to say.
It took a while for the anger to build, but eventually it did, and Kyle began yelling and yelling either into his pillow or at his mother’s worried presence standing outside his door. He cursed and cursed and sometimes his mother would yell back. He knew he was being cruel, but he didn’t care.
Because nothing could free him from the pain in his chest.
Finally Kyle had had enough. After two weeks spent alone in a house that breathed depression, empty pity and an inability to understand him, an energy that seeped through the walls and infected Kyle in every way, the redhead stumbled out of bed and over to his desk, where he’d left his phone.
Dead, because of course it was.
Once he’d gotten enough juice to turn it on, he thumbed through his contacts and landed on the last person on earth he ever imagined turning to for help.
But where else could he go?
“Hey,” he croaked, as soon as the call was answered on his end.
“ Hey ? That’s really all you have to fucking say to me?” Eric Cartman demanded.
Kyle sighed. “What do you want me to say?”
“Don’t bother saying a word, just come over,” Cartman demanded.
Kyle glanced at the clock. Midnight.
“I was hoping you’d say that,” he admitted. “Cartman, I need help.”
The brunette laughed. “You don’t say? Alright, enough of this shit. Just get over here. We can talk this out.”
…
As soon as Kyle was through the window of the brunette’s bedroom, he began to sob.
“What the- are you crying ?!” Cartman asked, incredulous as Kyle collapsed on his wooden floor. “What the fuck , Ky?”
“Please Cartman,” Kyle pleaded, tears running down his face, moonlight illuminating him. “I don’t know what to do. I think I’m going crazy.”
Cartman sighed, getting out of bed. He stretched as he stood up, and walked over to Kyle, who was curled in on himself, holding his body with his arms.
“You look pathetic,” Cartman snapped, kicking Kyle none too gently in the side. The redhead made an audible “oof” and instinctively looked up at Cartman from where he was hunched over kneeling on the floor.
“Please,” Kyle croaked. “I can’t take it anymore.”
“Why haven’t you been at school?” Cartman demanded.
Kyle shook his head. “Don’t make me say it.”
“Too bad,” Cartman scoffed. “You aren’t calling the shots here. You want my help? Do this my way, or leave.”
“Oh god ,” Kyle cried softly. “Fuck me, man.”
“I’ll ask you one more time,” Cartman explained. “Why haven’t you been at school?”
“Couldn’t go,” Kyle answered immediately. “I couldn’t face him.”
“Him?” Cartman honed in on the confession. “Him-who? Stan? Kenny? Craig?”
“Stan,” Kyle managed. “It’s…Stan, Cartman.”
The brunette rolled his eyes. “So it’s a hippie fight. What’d the guy do to you? Ask you to promote world peace?”
Kyle found the energy to glare at him. “Shut up, it’s not that simple!”
“Not that simple? What, like you have a loser baby crush or something?” He demanded. “Those frosted tips really did it for you, huh?”
Without a word Kyle grabbed Cartman’s wastebasket from beneath his desk and heaved into it, expelling dinner from his stomach.
“Oh. My. God.” Cartman exhaled. “It’s worse than I thought.”
“Fucking shit,” Kyle managed, collapsing on his side.
“When did this start?” Cartman demanded.
Kyle shook his head again. “Please, please don’t make me.”
But again he wasn’t granted any mercy. “You play by my rules or you go the fuck home to nurse your broken heart alone ,” Cartman explained. “Now talk.”
“Middle school!” Kyle cried. “That good enough for you?!”
“Middle school!” Cartman laughed. “And you never told him?!”
Kyle shook his head. “How could I? He…likes girls.”
Cartman nodded. “But you always thought you’d have a shot.”
Kyle shook his head, again. “I was fine being the gay one between us. Until he- he- until he and Tolkien... Oh fuck,” Kyle managed to grab the wastebasket again in time.
Cartman nodded, waiting until Kyle was done and paying attention again before speaking.
“I think I understand,” Cartman began.
“You do?” Kyle asked, hopeful.
There was no trace of sympathy behind the brunette’s cold gaze. Instead of reassurances Cartman began to laugh, a harsh sound that would’ve pissed Kyle off if he’d had the energy. “Of course I do!” Cartman laughed.
“Shut up!” Kyle snapped.
“No you shut up!” Cartman snapped back, and Kyle shrunk just a little. “So you’re depressed Stan doesn’t want you? Oh poor baby ,” Cartman sneered. “What’s it like, watching the love of your teenage life go home with someone else on his mind? How’s it make you feel?”
Kyle shook his head, gripping his arms in his hands, squeezing so tight it had to be hurting him. He had to be hurting. He had to be.
“Shut up, shut up,” Kyle pleaded.
“Take my help or go the fuck away!” Cartman roared.
So what if he was hurting? He’d hurt worse if Eric was going to make him feel better.
“Like I’m being stabbed in the fucking chest,” Kyle groaned. “It hurts so bad.”
Cartman smiled, sinister in the dark. “Good, you’re gonna need that, when you show him how much better off you are without him. When you show him he’s not even a passing thought in your mind,” the brunette continued, Kyle looking at him with wide shiny green doe eyes. “You’re going to make him wish he’d thought twice before fucking off.”
“How?” Kyle asked. “I- I can barely get out of bed.”
“Quit being so pathetic, you’re making me hate you,” Cartman snapped, throwing Kyle a water bottle from a drawer below his bed. Kyle drank it greedily. “I can’t help you if you’re such a fucking pussy!”
Kyle sobbed, chucking aside the empty water bottle. “He broke my fucking heart Cartman! I know that’s hard to understand when you don’t have one, but-”
“Who said I don’t have a heart?” Cartman demanded, grabbing Kyle by the shirt and forcing him to rise just enough to meet the brunette as he crashed their lips together. Kyle yelped on instinct but the sound was muffled. And to his utter surprise as the kisses calmed from a nervous frenzy into something much more reassuring, soon he wasn’t protesting at all.
“I have plenty of heart,” Cartman said as he pulled away, his panting breaths the loudest sound in the room.
Kyle nodded, as he fought to catch his breath. “Okay, I believe you,” he said. “I believe you.”
“I can fix this,” Cartman said, more softly, still holding Kyle’s face in his hands. “I know I can.”
Kyle nodded. “That’s why I’m here. I knew only you could help me face reality.”
Cartman didn’t comment, a surprising moment given how he usually liked to boast. But he did let Kyle go, and backed up to his bed, his back to Kyle.
“Obviously,” Cartman finally replied, oozing confidence. “Who else can you trust in this hick town?”
Kyle sighed, dropping his head to glare at the floor. “No one,” he admitted. “And the person I thought I could trust…he’s gone.”
Cartman couldn’t help himself. “Was he ever really there? Or did you just imagine him.”
Kyle shrugged, but looked up at Cartman’s larger frame. Tentatively he approached him and even put a hand on his shoulder. “I don’t know, I can’t ask a ghost. But I have a question for you. Did- did you mean that?”
Cartman shrugged and shoved Kyle away. “There’s nothing to mean. You’re too obsessed with Stan to think of anyone else right now. I just needed to prove a point, that’s all.”
Kyle protested immediately, “But-”
“I said that’s all!” Cartman snapped, cutting him off. “Now come on, we’re going clubbing.”
“Clubbing?” Kyle repeated, confused.
Cartman smirked, heading to his closet. “Did I stutter, bitch?” He asked, pulling out a garment bag and a blonde wig, which he had stored on a mannequin head in a protective box. “Time to go make a bunch of loser virgins wet for me.”
Kyle’s jaw dropped. “What?! What the hell are you talking about?”
Instead of answering, Cartman unzipped the garment bag and pulled out a silver sequined dress. “Bad Irene,” he said calmly, as he slipped out of his pajamas right in front of Kyle, who covered his eyes and turned away, “is the baddest bitch this side of South Park. And West Park,” he added as an afterthought. “Probably North Park too, but the point is if you’re on her arm, you’re someone who matters.”
Kyle tilted his head, confused. “You want to take me clubbing? Isn’t that where you go perform on Fridays? What the hell do I do while you’re…on stage?”
Cartman laughed, and Kyle heard the sound of clothing rustle. “I won’t be on stage tonight bitch, now get over here and zip this up.”
Hoping he was more decent now, Kyle turned to see Cartman had put on fishnets, and was attempting to get the dress down over his push up bra, which had his chest transformed into a rack of tits Kyle couldn’t help staring at. He was only human after all.
“Quit staring and come zip!” Cartman snapped, souring the fantasy moment Kyle was steadily building in his head of what those glorious tits would feel like in his hands, on his face, with his cock shoved between them-
“Ugh, whatever,” Kyle grumbled, walking around the brunette and pinching the dress together as he zipped it up Cartman’s back.
“There,” he said, backing off. “Now what the fuck do I do?”
“Hmm,” Cartman hummed, staring Kyle up and down. The redhead felt the instinctive need to cover himself. “I can work with this.”
Kyle couldn’t believe that. “I look like I haven’t bathed in days!” He cried. “Don’t fucking lie to me, I’m a mess.”
Cartman shrugged. “Okay I won’t lie. Have you?”
“Have I what ?” Kyle snapped.
“Showered in days?” Cartman asked.
“Shut up!” Kyle cried, before grumbling honestly. “No, I haven’t.”
The brunette laughed. “Yeah, you are a mess, babe. Come on, let’s get you something to wear that you can rock with your lack of curves.”
“I guess,” Kyle reluctantly agreed before the brunette’s words registered.
Wait. Babe?
But Kyle didn’t have time to think because he was already being dragged out of Cartman’s bedroom.
…
After a quick pit stop at Kyle’s house for clothes, followed by a shower back at Cartman’s (an equal excuse for the brunette to grab his purse), the two of them were on their way to a club the brunette frequented outside of town.
“Now, let’s go over some ground rules,” Cartman- Irene , announced as they entered the parking lot. “You stay by me, you protect me from any creeps who try to spike my drink, so I look helpless, and then you look the other way when I drag their asses into the alley and beat the shit out of them.”
Kyle rolled his eyes. “You’re so vulgar.”
“You’ll learn to love it,” Irene answered, applying more lipgloss before exiting the vehicle. “Now just remember: frown, and look scary for me. Okay?”
Kyle’s eyes traveled against his will to her tits, practically falling out of her dress, and felt something strange stir in him. Shoving any dirty thoughts away, he let his eyes travel further, to the press on nails, the matching painted toenails peeking out of her heels, the fishnets and that stupid, sexy, sparkly dress.
Irene was pretty. Like, really pretty. Her eyes were so innocent and her lips were pouty. The blonde curls falling down were so perfect, and delicate.
“Fine,” Kyle snapped, glancing down at his cutoff shirt and ripped jeans. One look in the mirror and he’d barely recognized himself, until Irene had come up behind him and knocked his hat off his head, unleashing his curls.
Suddenly Kyle had seen a different side of himself, and the thought was almost enough to scare him. He felt powerful, untouchable, like a bad guy with a soft heart like some film heartthrob. No, he didn’t recognize this guy at all. But he stood firm, he had to let this play out.
He had to get over Stan.
“William!” Irene cooed loudly, her voice pitched high with excitement. At the sound, a bald bouncer with thick arms and a black polo on his torso turned and waved for Kyle and Irene to come to the front of the line. Protesting patrons complained loudly but Irene paid them no mind, strutting past them in her heels.
Trying not to look sheepish, Kyle followed behind.
“Uh uh,” a familiar voice sang to thumping music as Irene and Kyle passed William through the side door into the club. Kyle glanced at the stamp on his wrist he’d earned on his way inside, it was in the shape of a snake.
Wait, he recognized this stamp. Cartman had had ones just like it constantly last year. Fucking shit, he’d been getting in here underage. But how?
Well, it didn’t take long for him to get his answer.
Posters of Bad Irene and her upcoming show schedule were everywhere. Most were new, but one stuck to the ceiling, barely illuminated by the swirling disco lights was two years old.
What else was Cartman hiding?
“ Hi hello, it’s Miss New Tits,” the song carried on as they made their way through the bar. Was that Irene’s voice? Had she recorded an album?!
“Hi Georgie baby!” Irene called out to a bartender, dragging Kyle behind her as she made her way through the crowd. Kyle vaguely remembered he was supposed to be more of a bodyguard than a tagalong, but it was hard to feel tough when he was so out of place.
This wasn’t his scene, these weren’t his people. Irene knew this building and its staff like the back of her hand and he-
He was her companion, arm candy, a trophy.
“Make me a rum and coke, extra rum!” Irene snapped, and the bartender got to work as she slid a card across the counter beneath a manicured hand. Kyle rolled his eyes at the clear attempt at wealth related confidence. No one in this town had-
“You don’t need to pay baby,” a male voice announced and Kyle turned to see a guy taller and leaner than him sidled up to Irene’s side. “Drinks on me.”
“Hmm,” Irene considered this. “Thanks but no thanks, doll face. I’ve got a boyfriend.”
Tall blonde and fucking ugly finally looked Kyle in the eyes. “I don’t see much.”
Kyle sneered, somewhat registering that he’d been introduced as a boyfriend. But before he could let that get to his head he had to put this asshole in his place. “Yeah well you’re no Abercrombie model yourself. Back the fuck off of my girl.”
Irene laughed at the stunned look on the guy’s face. “Good one babe,” she said, taking Kyle’s hand. The bartender- Georgie, took her card and replaced it with a drink. “Let’s dance,” she said, tugging Kyle away to the dance floor, her drink sloshing around in her glass. “I want to see you fucked uppp,” she said, passing the drink to Kyle, who stared at the cup with disdain.
“I don’t know,” he hesitated as they headed down to the dance floor, a mediocre space with a few swaying couples even though the song was decidedly fast paced. Starfucker , Kyle realized, he knew that song from one of Cartman’s playlists.
Irene leaned in close, and Kyle noted he could smell her sweat beneath the perfume she’d sprayed all over her chest. But she didn’t smell bad she smelled familiar, like-
someone he’d know anywhere. Someone who’d never made him feel alone. Hated? Maybe. Annoyed? Most definitely. But never cast aside like trash, never alone.
“Let loose, Jersey,” Irene commanded, as she put the drink in his hand. “You deserve this. You’ve earned this. Live a little.”
“Fine,” Kyle relented, taking a big drink from the glass. Half downed, he glanced at Irene, confused.
“Why are you trying this hard to help me?!” He asked, straining his voice to be heard. “Why does it seem like you actually care?”
Irene smirked. “Because I do care. You’d be surprised how dull it’s been with you gone! And the guys, fuck, it’s like they don’t give a shit.”
Kyle felt his throat close up a little. “He didn’t even notice, did he?”
Irene sighed, running a hand through her blonde hair. “He really is the only one you think about, huh? I mean, shit, Kyle. I cared. Doesn’t that mean anything?”
Put like that, Kyle couldn’t help but feel like he’d been missing something. Immediately he ran back the events of the night, from the way Cartman had invited him over without a second thought, to the way he hadn’t made fun of him once, not seriously anyway, and the kiss . Shit, even the attempt to take him clubbing to get his mind in a different place.
He’d gotten Kyle to shower , for the first time in weeks.
“I’m an idiot, aren’t I?” Kyle asked, directly into Irene’s ear so she’d hear him loud and clear. “You’ve been right here, all night, probably so much longer than that. And I’ve been- I’ve been such an idiot.”
Irene pulled away, a smile on her face. “Drink up!” She commanded. “It’s time you get the fuck over him!”
Nodding, Kyle downed the rest of the drink, ignoring the burn in his throat as he did so. “Are we staying here?!” He asked.
Irene shrugged. “Do you want to? You still owe me a dance!”
With a grin on his face, Kyle nodded. “Let’s do it.”
While they’d been talking, Starfucker had ended and Cha Cha Cha had begun pounding from the speakers. Though he hadn’t told many people about his keeping up with Eurovision, Kyle happened to have watched along last year.
In other words, he fucking loved this song.
“You know this song?!” Irene asked, seeing the excited look in Kyle’s expression.
The redhead nodded, and spun Irene around, pressing her back to his front. He felt her lean back against him, trying to find the pace of the song. As she moved he moved with her, giving her the control over their rhythm. It was a fast paced song but in her heels she found her own groove that didn’t try to match the beats exactly, but worked for the two of them, kept them dancing along.
Eventually the song built up and and up and Kyle felt his heart pounding harder and harder, Irene’s curls flowing with her as she moved.
She was fucking gorgeous.
Nyt lähden tanssimaan
Niinku cha cha cha
Enkä pelkääkään tätä maailmaa
Spinning her around, Kyle pulled her to him, and leaned in the rest of the way to kiss her. Surprised, her eyes widened, but quickly closed as she responded eagerly. Over and over she kissed him back, even continuing to dance while making out with him.
And Kyle hadn’t known he could feel this good, with the music in his ears and someone he cared about in his arms.
Intentionally, Kyle pulled back from kissing her and leaned to speak in her ear. “Thank you!” he said, wanting her to hear him.
“You’re welcome baby!” She yelled back, because of course she knew. This had all been her plan, after all. “But do you really want to thank me?!” Irene added loudly. “Kiss me again!”
Kyle smiled, she didn’t have to tell him twice.
…
The rest of the night was a blur, but when Kyle woke up the next morning, lying naked in Cartman’s bed, with the brunette’s arm draped over him, holding him close, Kyle couldn’t help but smile.
“What’s got you so happy?” Cartman grumbled, blinking angrily at the sun like it had personally done him damage.
“The fact that I can smile, honestly,” Kyle said happily. “I can hardly believe it.”
The brunette turned his gaze on Kyle and grinned, a sleepy smile that Kyle caught himself admiring.
Shit, he was getting in deep. Alarm bells rang in his mind, and he tried his best to take deep breaths, remind himself he’d chosen this, he’d chosen to pursue Cartman, or at least pursue his help.
But what was the harm in what it had come to, really? What was the damage of giving Cartman a real chance?
Resolved, Kyle leaned in and kissed him, slow, and deep, before pulling back and removing himself from the bed.
“Where are you going?” Cartman asked, protesting.
Kyle smirked, a glance over his shoulder as he got dressed. “My house, for now. But I’ll be back, maybe with a bag to stay for the weekend.”
Cartman grinned. “Hell yeah, you up for partying tonight?”
Kyle wrinkled his face. “Not… really ,” he said, a wave of hangover nausea hitting him and he swayed on his feet. Socks hung half on his feet as he braced himself on Cartman’s desk. “I’m still reeling from last night.”
“Oh come on,” Cartman pressed. “Tolkien’s hosting and a certain man will be there.”
Was he fucking serious? “Is that supposed to make me feel some kind of way? Because if you’re testing me I’m pretty sure I proved I’m in this with you last night,” Kyle snapped.
Cartman put his hands up. “Hang on babe, I wasn’t implying anything. Just saying bitch, you wanna show off your happiness? Hit them and hit them hard. You didn’t stay down, Broflovski. Go show them you’re back, for real.”
Kyle contemplated this as he kissed Cartman goodbye in silence, before leaving. He headed home, packed a bag…and so what if he put a party outfit in on the top?
It’s nobody’s business.
“Oh hell yeah!” Cartman cheered when Kyle showed off his outfit later. The brunette had chosen a shirt and pants for himself, no dresses tonight. But to say he looked hot would be an understatement.
Cartman was hot , like, triple quadrupole hot.
Why was Kyle not more scared of this? Why did holding Cartman’s hand as they rode over to Tolkien’s feel like the most natural thing in the world?
“Big man!” Kenny’s voice carried across the lawn as they got out of the car, and Kyle watched the blonde fly into Cartman’s arms. “What’s good baby?” He asked, smacking a kiss on Cartman’s cheek.
“Kennyyyyy,” Cartman whined, “not in front of my boyfriend.”
Immediately Kenny’s eyes practically exploded, they got so wide. “Boyfriend?!” He cried, shoving Eric away. “Where?!”
“Hey Kenny,” Kyle greeted, and Kenny’s happiness only intensified.
“Yess, fuck yes!” He cried. “Aw, I’m so happy for you guys!”
“Thanks,” Cartman answered. “Is this party going yet or are we early?”
Now Kenny’s smile faltered. “Oh, no it’s going. Um, Ky, you know what’s up, right?”
Kyle nodded, even put on a confident smile. “I’m fine, Kenny,” he promised. He took hold of Cartman’s arm. “I’m not alone.”
The way Cartman’s chest puffed was noticeable enough Kyle might’ve laughed if he wasn’t so nervous. Public displays weren’t really his thing, and this was a big party.
But Cartman hadn’t steered him wrong yet.
“ Ohh, I would cut a bitch in two, if she put her hands on you!” A heavily synthesized song blasted from speakers as Kyle and Cartman walked in. Kyle glanced around but didn’t immediately see anyone he recognized, but could feel Cartman’s arm still slung over his shoulders.
“Let’s get a drink,” Kyle suggested, realizing alcohol really did help his nerves. Not enough to feel as woozy as he did this morning, but one drink wouldn’t hurt.
Cartman nodded and they headed to the kitchen.
“So then I told Tweek- holy shit,” Craig Tucker’s nasal voice drifted from across the room. “Kyle and Cartman?”
“ My backyards a graveyard, I got bones and jars of hearts”
“Yeah, it’s us? So what?” Cartman shrugged, pouring Kyle’s drink. “You got a problem?”
“She can’t run, won’t get far, put a tracker in your car!”
“Uh, no,” Craig replied, leaning back into Tweek’s waiting arm, they were seated at a booth in the back of the room, with Clyde. “No problem.”
“Easy for you to say!” Clyde cried. “Who’s going to be my bro now that Tolkien is hooking up with Stan?!”
Against his will Kyle bristled, and he could tell from the way Cartman gripped his glass that he knew.
“Come on, Jersey,” Cartman said, shoving a drink in Kyle’s hands. “Let’s go.”
Once they were out in the backyard, with the same song still going, Cartman none too gently told Kyle to let his worries go and dance.
“It’s not that bad!” Kyle reassured him, already swaying to the pounding beat of the song. “I swear.”
“Better know I’d fuck her up, it’s the things I do for love.”
There were a few blissful moments where Kyle let himself dance and forget that at any moment Stan might see him. The drink sure helped.
The song even finished, and a new one started, a fresh moment and Kyle couldn’t be happier, to his surprise, to be sharing this night with Eric Cartman.
But then he felt a tap on his shoulder, and spun around to see Stan and Tolkien, the noirette with his arms crossed.
Bubble. Burst.
“Kyle, what the hell is this?” Stan demanded. He glanced nervously between Cartman and the redhead. “Please man, explain this to me.”
“Explain what?” Kyle spat, not expecting anger to be his initial response. But why shouldn’t he be angry? For years Stan had wanted to announce that he was gay, he’d been there for Kyle when Kyle said he was gay, but in the end he ignored Kyle completely.
Worse, he finally announced he was gay, all to be in the arms of someone else. Someone else who he said had been such a beacon of light for him the past few months.
“Uh, what are you doing here with Cartman?” Stan asked, a little wary now.
“I’m having a night out with my boyfriend. What the hells the problem?” Kyle demanded. “Why’d you interrupt us man?”
Stan’s jaw actually dropped. It would’ve been satisfying if Kyle hadn’t been so mad. “I just- I haven’t seen you in weeks. Are you okay?” Stan asked, ignoring the small crowd gathering.
Kyle sighed. “Stan, I skipped school for two weeks. And you didn’t even bother to try and talk to me. What does that say about our friendship, if you barely notice me when I’m gone?”
Stan shook his head. “Excuse me?”
Kyle shrugged. “Sure, I’ll excuse you. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go back to the conversation I was having before you walked over.”
“Damn, Jersey,” Cartman said softly from behind him.
Stans face hardened and he fixed his gaze on Cartman. “I understand now. You fucked with his head fatass!”
Cartman laughed. “Try again hippie. He came to me, wanting to know why his best friend had abandoned him when he was having a tough time.”
Stan’s glare intensified. “I- I didn’t know.”
“You didn’t ask ,” Kyle corrected. “I’m missing for two weeks and you don’t even text.”
Tolkien clapped his hands awkwardly. “Okay, uh, can this be taken somewhere else?”
Kyle laughed, throwing his glass to the patio. “Sure, why not!” He laughed as liquid sprayed all over Stan, who’d taken the brunt of it. “I’m not having fun anymore anyway.”
Cartman smirked, accepting Kyle’s outstretched hand. “Congrats hippie, you ruined the mood.”
Stan glared at him. “Shut the fuck up and leave.”
“Not your house!” Cartman reminded him as he followed Kyle through the crowd.
Kyle should’ve felt happy, but as he hit the front lawn he felt drained. He didn’t want that confrontation. He just wanted to feel better, to enjoy his weekend, to feel like he had a life again.
Cartman had given him that, why did Stan have to try and tear it down?
“What’s that look for?” Cartman asked as they got in the car, Kenny asleep in the backseat.
“I don’t want to talk about it yet. Let’s go get ice cream,” Kyle decided, smiling at the way Cartman’s face lit up. “My treat.”
“Say no more!” Cartman cried, throwing an empty water bottle at Kenny to wake him up. “Want ice cream?” He asked, as he pulled out of the driveway.
Kenny rubbed his eyes. “Did I hear Kyle say he’s treating?”
Kyle rolled his eyes, but he was laughing. “Yeah man, I got you.”
“Cool,” Kenny said beaming. “Thanks.”
Maybe the night could be saved after all. Maybe Kyle had been saved after all.