Oh my fucking Jesus Christ on a Cracker folks! I am so freaking sorry that this has been updated like sooooooo late! I was gonna update but Xfinity thought just then was the perfect time to turn off my freakin internet so I had to curse them out. Then when I finally got the net back on, I read through the chapter I'd made and I fucking hated it so I had to keep redo-ing it over and over until I hated it a little less. I hope you guys like this shit. I worked really hard but it's still pretty crappy. Tell me how you feel, raise my confidence so I don't gorge myself in chocolate icecream and cut off my hands to keep from writing ever again~!
Thanks for all the reviews dudes and dudettes! You're all so freaking sweet, I just loves yas to bits already! Once again, I don't own shit. Trey and Matt, blehbityblahbityboo~
"GET THE HELL OFF ME YOU FUCKING SKANK!"
"WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE CALLIN A SKANK?"
"What the hell?" I muttered, peeking out from behind my open locker door, checking out the two people who'd rushed past.
"STANLEY MARSH, GET YOUR ASS BACK OVER HERE!" Wendy shouted, voice echoing off the walls of the hall. I raised my eyebrow curiously. Is it that time of the month already?
"DIDN'T I TELL YOU TO BACK THE FUCK OFF?" Stan snarled, glaring at the few students who peeked out of their classrooms to see what all the commotion was about. I slammed my own locker shut and headed towards them. This was obviously getting out of hand and God knows if Wendy starts crying again we'll never-
My thoughts were cut off by the heavy clacking of Wendy's heels hitting the linoleum floor as she stormed ahead, grabbed Stan by the collar of his Letterman jacket and pushed him backwards, forcing him with a clang into the wall of lockers behind him.
"Holy shit!" was unanimously the best reaction my brain and mouth could put together on such short notice. Before I could react further, however, Butters jogged in, looking lost and nervous as hell.
"Kyle! Kyle have you seen We-" he stopped and looked past me, eyes widening at the sight of Wendy shouting at Stan with her finger in his face, pinning the boy against the wall. He sighed heavily and leaned against my closed locker.
"Oh thank Jesus, she seems fine." He muttered, relieved. I glanced back at him confused. He looked down and rubbed his knuckles together nervously. He glanced up at me briefly, looking more sheepish than usual.
"I kinda hit her with my car earlier…" he whispered.
"Butters, what the hell?!" I screamed before I could stop myself. "Don't you have a truck?" He cringed at my raised voice and hid his face in his hands.
"Wa-I didn't mean to!" He cried sliding to the floor and huddling further into himself once he reached the floor.
"What happened?" I sighed irritably.
"Everything was fine, Wendy was with Stan in the parking lot y'know… kissing and stuff." He muttered, blushing a bit at the last part. I rolled my eyes but said nothing as he continued. "B-but then out of no where she slapped him right across the face! He got awful mad, Kyle; pushed her in front of my car and stalked off. Scared the bejeebers outta me! She seemed fine, rolled off the hood and tackled him to the ground. I got out, to make sure but she pushed me away, called me dickless and stormed in here." I opened my mouth to say something but Stan's voice from down the hall made me loose my train of thought.
"I said- IT'S FUCKING OVER BITCH!" He bellowed at the top of his lungs, lunging for her and snatching her up by her neck and slamming her against the opposite wall. Everyone in the hall flinched at the sick crack her skull made once it made contact. Stan was the only one who didn't seem to really notice, or better yet- care. "WHAT PART OF 'FUCK OFF' DON'T YOU FUCKING GET!?" he roared, flexing his fingers so they squeezed her reddening throat harder.
"Holy fucking- Stan! Get the hell off of her!" I shouted, snapping out of my surprised stupor and charging towards the scene. I wasn't needed apparently, because not two seconds later, the heels of both Wendy's purple stiletto boots slammed into Stan's midsection, doubling him over in pain. Both of them toppled to the floor, Wendy gasping for breath and Stan groaning and clutching his stomach. Wendy recovered first however and jumped up and reared back only to kick him ferociously in the face.
"YOU BITCH!" He cried out, shielding his undoubtedly broken nose, unable to hold back the fountains of blood from spurting down his face.
"IT'S NOT OVER UNTIL I FUCKING SAY SO!" She shrieked, digging her heel into his chest. He sneered through his bloodied face and grabbed her ankle, throwing her to the floor like a ragdoll. He shot up in an instant and stood over her, glaring as she sat up dazedly on the floor.
"TOUCH ME AGAIN-" He started, bringing his leg back, threatening a kick as she had. I snapped back to reality and lunged forward, grabbing Stan by the back of his jacket and making him fall backwards to the floor.
"OW!" He yelled then snarled, grabbing my ankle, obviously preparing to throw me as he had Wendy.
"Goddamnit, Stan, get a fucking grip!" I shouted, bringing my foot down into his groin, squeaking a bit when he yelped in pain.
"Shit dude, I'm sorry…" I winced, feeling ghost spasms in my own crotch. He glowered up at me, tear tracks cutting through the drying blood on his face.
"You better hope I don't get up-" he started, voice hoarse with pain. "Cause when I do, I'm gonna KICK YOUR FUCKING ASS!"
"I know." I managed weakly, stepping over his limp body and taking off back down the hall. Wendy was with Butters who was trying (and failing) to drag her to the nurse's office, but only ended up sporting a few bruises of his own. Nothing compared to what I'd have when Stan got his hands on me. I groaned pitifully and cupped my balls, almost missing to the familiar orange hooded head that scurried pass.
"Kenny!" I called, letting out a relieved sigh when the boy paused and turned around. I trotted down the hall to where he stood, dropping my hand on his shoulder.
"Dude, do you have any idea how screwed I am-" I started, pausing when Kenny whined uncomfortably and slid from under my hand, slowly inching away from me.
"D-don't do that." Kenny muttered, the words coming out more muddled than they'd been in a long time due to him pulling his parka hood strings so it tightened around his face. I felt my face drop to a scowl. It had been years since Kenny wore his hood up.
"What did I do?" I asked, pulling back and eyeing him strangely. Kenny's blue eyes darted around nervously before glancing up and accidentally catch my gaze. The little of his face that showed paled and he physically shrunk even further into the depths of his parka, if that was possible. "What the hell's wrong with you?"
"I-I don't know." He mumbled, stepping back as I stepped closer to him.
"You… don't know?" I repeated stupidly. Half of me was expecting him to break out laughing and calling me out for falling for his insane act. The other half would kick his blonde ass if he was. This shit wasn't funny. And it was getting less funny by the second.
"Ken, you're freaking me out, dude." I said, softly, inching towards him as if he were a wild animal or something. Hell, maybe he was. Maybe he, Stan and Wendy all got attacked by some radioactive forest armadillos. Scary mutant ones with poisonous claws and British accents… Those accents always made people loose their goddamn minds. Yeah, that's probably what it was…
"S-stop looking at me like that…" Kenny murmured, teetering backwards until he hit the wall. He whimpered pathetically like some trapped animal when he noticed me advancing- which only fed to my radioactive forest armadillos hypothesis- and writhed, trying to stay as far away from me as possible.
"Ken-" Before I could raise my hand completely to reach out for him, Kenny dropped to the floor and scurried away into the closest corner.
"DON'T TOUCH ME YOU FUCKING PERVERT!" he screamed shrilly, voice still muddled by the hood over his mouth. People were stopping to stare at us, although I couldn't help notice the select few who were acting a bit oddly as well. Students were running amuck, screaming and rocking in corners or singing to themselves and eating parts of the posters on the walls. Something was very wrong if the school managed to look even crazier than usual.
"Kenny! Stop it!" I yelled finally, grabbing his wrist and pulling him off the floor. His body immediately went limp.
"Ken? Kenny?!" I shook him, trying to wake him up. Hesitantly, I put my finger to his neck. Nothing.
"Goddamnit! Fucking bastard!" I growled, throwing Kenny's stiff body to the floor. This was bad. I paced the hallway floor forcing my brain to think. With my superbestfriend out for my blood and Kenny slowly being dragged to some dark corner by a horde of flesh eating rats, the only ones of our group left were me and Cartman- that is, if he hadn't been affected by the radioactive forest armadillos too. I had to find him. In the worst case scenario, the entire world could be in danger and only Cartman and I could save it. God help us all if that was the case.
I started towards the classroom, dodging kids who were sliding around in their socks or taking swings at each other with baseball bats. All types of shit that would usually get them thrown in the principal's office. Where the hell were the teachers anyway? I turned the corner and peaked cautiously inside our homeroom, fearing the wrath of a six foot baseball, soccer and hockey team captain. Thankfully, the room was clear besides Craig who was sitting on his desk, strumming his guitar softly with his back toward the door.
"Craig!" I called out, entering the classroom. He glanced back but didn't stop playing.
"Sup?" He nodded in greeting.
"Dude, have you seen-" I stopped, noticing a flash of blonde hair bobbing suggestively at the boy's groin. Really? In the classroom? With the door open? Who is that anyway? There aren't that many girls with blonde hair and that's defiantly not Bebe…
"Erm… H-have you seen Cartman?" I asked trying and failing to avert my eyes from the scene, entirely too curious as to who was so bold as to give Craig a blowjob in the middle of the classroom. Craig smirked when he saw me looking.
"No dude. He aint been in here, not that I'd know anyway. Pretty occupied here." He grinned and continued hummed along to his strumming. I rolled my eyes.
"Riiiight… So if you see him-" The blonde's head snapped back.
"GAH! You're so goddamn rude, Kyle! You're breaking my fucking concentration!" The blonde twitched, wiping his mouth and shooting daggers at me from over Craig's shoulder.
"Tweek?" I gaped, eyes wide. He sighed irritably and crawled up on the desk, making himself comfortable between Craig and his guitar, even though the raven hardly faltered with his playing as he maneuvered.
"Who the fuck does it look like, dumbass?" he growled, as if it were a perfectly normal occurrence for a guy to walk in on another guy giving head to another guy in the middle of a goddamn classroom. I scoffed, not at all feeling his nasty attitude when Craig sighed and put his guitar down on the desk beside them.
"No need to be a prick, Tweekers. He's just looking for his fatass." Craig reprimanded softly into the blonde's neck, making him burst into wild giggles before wrapping his arms around Craig's neck and blatantly attacking the boy's pierced lips. I felt my jaw officially drop. By the time I gained enough sense to look away the two had pulled apart and Craig took to nibbling hungrily on Tweek's neck. I slapped myself in the face, trying to control the muscles under my left eye that for some reason had gone completely bonkers.
"Go wait for me by my locker." Craig finally murmured. Tweek nodded giving a reluctant, "Fine." Grabbing his backpack and strutting towards the door. He paused when he got to me, glaring out of the corner of his eye without actually looking over.
"Touch him and I'll pull your head out of your fucking asshole." He snarled; no twitch, no stutter. I inwardly cringed but outwardly rolled my eyes and scoffed.
"Hate to break it to you dude, but Craig really isn't my type." Tweek smirked, tossing his backpack over his shoulder.
"Yeah, I forgot. You're a chubby chaser." He muttered, chuckling and strolling down the hall leaving me glaring at the empty space where he once stood. What the hell was that? A chubby chaser? I've never dated a fat girl. Only Rebecca for a while in eighth grade, (fourth grade too but that hardly counts). What the hell would he know of my preferences? Stupid cum breathed, twitchy son of a- I turned around to Craig who was busy zipping his jeans and re-tousling his already tousled hair.
"Dude what the fuck? He'll rip my head out of my asshole? What kind of shit is that? And since when were you two…" I pointed back and forth between him and the desk he'd just been sitting on. Craig snorted and swung his guitar strap over his shoulder.
"Don't look at me. I have no fucking idea. I walked in this morning and he was like that. But, hey, he tastes like coffee and caramel syrup. I figure, why the fuck not?" I thought about it. If Tweek came on to me like that all randomly, would I just let him… My mouth went dry at the thought and I shivered. God no... That's fucking gross dude. I didn't voice my opinion though, and opted instead for a borderline sarcastic,
Craig just grinned in the way that Stan used to dub, 'Craig's asshole look he gets to make you think he knew exactly what you were thinking, why you thought it and how your thoughts would relate to everything that ever happened in your life.' Or in the way I summarized it, like he knew everything.
"About Cartman though," he started and I perked to attention. "I saw him earlier this morning. He was flippin a shit in his car, but I didn't really think twice about it." I scowled. That really didn't help me at all…
"Well, was he like, pissed or something?" I asked concerned. "I mean, Stan just tried to strangle Wendy and kick my ass in the hallway. Was it like that?" Craig shook his head slightly, completely unaffected by the news that Stan was apparently a domestic abuser who also tried to kick his friend's ass in public. I could've sighed. Only Craig.
"Nah, he was cryin and screamin something about wasted therapy." I looked at him, unsure.
"Crying? Dude, I'm talking about Cartman, Eric Cartman. Bout six foot seven, brown hair, douchebag cut, been in our class since kindergarten?" Craig nodded thoughtfully.
"Also seen sobbing hysterically in his car this morning like they denied his application for the white supremacists." I felt my eyebrow rise.
"You have to apply to be a white supremacist?" Craig battled my raise with an eyebrow raise of his own.
"Why? You thinkin of joining?" he asked with a toothy slightly evil grin.
"Oh yeah, cause I'd defiantly love to see that aneurysm Cartman'll have if they accept me and not him." Craig laughed.
"Good looking out. Can't fuck 'im if he's on life support."
"Yea- Wait, WHAT!?" Craig just laughed louder and strolled out of the room.
"Hey Craig! What the hell are you talking about?!" I called at him down the hall, but he simply flipped me the finger and continued walking. I groaned and shot out of the way just in time for Clyde to come marching through, Token in tow.
"-oken stop it already! You already bought me a whole fucking Taco Bell, not to mention the Escalade in the parking lot, a new phone and a whole fucking shitload of clothes and games. What more could I ask for?" He asked, obviously exasperated. Token grinned brightly at him, making me cringe slightly cause honestly, big open smiles like that from Token were creepy. Like he was preparing to steal your soul or something. And that's not racist.
"Anything, dude! I love you- being happy! Especially when it's so easily achieved through something as simple as money!"
"But Toke I-"
"No Clyde! You deserve this. You've always been there for me. I'd do anything for you. You're the most important person in my life." He muttered the last part, voice going unreasonably soft and raising a hand to gently caress Clyde's cheek.
"Dude this is weird." Clyde whispered hoarsely, eyebrows furrowed as he obviously struggled within his own mind. I decided then that it was best if I simply turned and left the room, seeing as I've already laid witness to one too many manly classroom romping sessions for this early in the morning.
"WENDY, GET THE FUCK OUTTA MY FACE!" I barely ducked in time for Wendy to come flying over my head and into the classroom, crashing into desks and falling on the floor.
"STAN, I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD!" She screeched, jumping up and charging at the boy, bomb-rushing me out of her way to tear at him, sending all three of us skidding in opposite directions on the hard linoleum floor.
"Goddamnit Wendy…" I muttered under my breath, standing and dusting my pants off. I stalked off a bit faster than necessary just in case she heard that last bit, not because I was scared of her or anything; but she did just inherit superhuman fury this morning. Not fear. Self preservation is all. But if she finds another way to fling me across something again tomorrow… There won't be any holding back just because she's Stan's bitch.
"STOP TOUCHING ME!" Kenny's voice echoed from further down the hallway. My head shot around disbelievingly. Where- Wait, why does it feel weird to hear Kenny's voice?
"Kenny?" I called out. The blonde glanced over at me and his face instantly fell.
"Oh god, not you! Don't touch me you fucking weirdo!" he cried, shooting down the hall in the opposite way, tugging frantically at his hood strings.
"Wha-" I started to go after him but just as I did, Stan stepped in from the hall and grabbed me by the front of the shirt. A short- and admittedly unmanly- squeak ripped from my throat as he held me a good few inches off the ground.
"Hey asshole! Don't think I fucking forgot about earlier!" he barked into my face, I managed to rip free of his grasp and took off down the hall.
"Come back here you little pussy!" he shouted, his heavy footsteps following after me. I rounded the corner and turned back to face him.
"But Stan-" I whined stepping back and absently bumping into Craig. Tweek looked over the boy's shoulder and glared down at me.
"Kyle, didn't I GAH just fucking tell you not to fucking touch him?!" I groaned audibly, turning sideways to watch either of the two as they approached.
"Tweek, really? I don't fucking want Craig!" I pleaded, annoyed beyond belief at the amused shrug Craig shot me while his, I don't even know, psycho Pomeranian sex puppet threatened to kick my ass. Never mind the fact that the little Chihuahua was number one on both the boxing and wrestling teams and had the walk to match his little twitchy broken talk.
"Why? You think he's not good enough for you? I'm gonna kick your fucking ass Broflovski!" he snarled, hopping out of Craig's arms and turning on me.
"Stand in line!" Stan, who I'd momentarily forgotten was there, called, cracking his knuckles and advancing from down the hall. I shot a pleading glance at Craig who shot glances at either of my two opponents before unhelpfully strumming Texas standoff music, complete with the odd dying giraffe sounds in between.
"Aw shit!" I whined backing up slowly from the group before I accidentally bumped into someone. I jumped around, reflexes on high and nearly sunk to the floor in relief.
"Watch where the fuck you're going Jew." He growled, looking every bit the conceited, anti-Semitic asshole he was.
"Cartman!" I practically crooned. He grimaced, obviously taken aback by my enthusiastic greeting. I didn't care. I was so grateful for this dickwad's presence I had to physically restrain myself from hugging him, or hiding behind him. Whichever worked best for me, really.
"Dude, I've never been so goddamn happy to see you in my fucking life." I grinned boldly, shooting a glance behind me only to see Tweek trotting happily back to Craig who'd somehow summoned a desk to sit on and Stan jogging off around the corner, trailing behind a purple pleated skirt and the clack of high heels on the floor.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" He asked, looking around, apparently searching for whatever the hell I was supposedly looking at.
"Are you alright? You're not feeling weird are you? How do you feel? Are you at all craving crumpets and tea?" I shot off questions rapidly, searching him over for any abnormalities though I didn't exactly know what to look for. I twisted his jaw around, trying to look into his eyes but he was too much taller than me… bastard. Cartman swatted my hand away and stepped back, looking disgusted with having been in contact with me at all. My heart soared as my hopes flared. Could it be?
"Why the hell wouldn't I be alright? Did you recently poison me with your Jew magic? I'll kick your skinny ginger ass if you did, Goddamnit!" I grinned and released an anxious breath I didn't even realize I'd been holding. When he looked at me confused and questioning I launched into explanation.
"Dude, everybody else in the school has lost their fucking minds and I feel like I work in a fucking psyche ward! Stan and Wendy are at each others throats and Stan wants to kick everybody's ass, Tweek's tongue is stuck down Craig's throat and for some reason thinks' I want a piece, Kenny's acting like a nun who got molested on the train, and Token's practically buying Clyde's love because he's his most important person!" With every completed thought, I felt my voice rise higher. Cartman's eyebrow rose slightly at the last confession but he didn't interrupt as I continued.
"It's fucking insane in here and I can't fucking breathe anymore because I've been running around like Tigger on crack and I was looking for you but no one could find you and I thought you'd come in crazy as hell like everybody else but you seem fine so I guess I was worried for nothing, not that I was worried because I still hate you even though it's not that many of us actually left making sense around here but I guess I could go talking to some of the kids actually acting normal but I don't know them like that and they kinda creep me out so I guess I'd rather be stuck with you than with those weirdoes who don't even get their own episo-" The sound of skin to skin contact echoed through the hall.
"Better?" Cartman asked, palm still suspended in the air. My breathing slowed and I cupped my throbbing jaw. I nodded.
"Yeah, thanks." I muttered, moving my jaw around slowly.
"No problem. Now look, you need to chill right now, Kyle. Everybody else is obviously off their shits because of Mephesto's cookies. I heard they gave them to damn near every class. Now we need to be the smart one's here and keep level heads alright? We've done this kind of shit a million times before, don't go flipping out cause we're a little rusty." I blinked and cocked my head to the side in confusion.
"Are you fucking serious? You weren't even listening?" Cartman growled, agitated. I waved his irritation off.
"You said something there in the beginning and I got kinda lost afterwards because of what I thought I heard. Come on, fatass. Please?" I can't believe this shit. Did he just say what I think he did? Cartman watched me closely for a second before sighing and looking away.
"I'm not fat goddamnit…" he muttered before sighing harder, "I SAID, You need to chill right now, Kyle. Everybody else is-"
"Wait! There! What did you just call me?" I gasped, pointing at him.
"I didn't call you anything you retarded fuck! I said, for the last fucking time, that you need to chill right now, Kyle-" My hands shot out and covered his mouth before I could stop them.
"You said it again! You defiantly did say it! You called me: Kyle." I pulled back and gaped. He did! He totally did just say my fucking name!
"Your name is Kyle, dumbass." He ground out hands twitching at his sides in the way I've only seen just before he strangles the hell out of someone. I gulped thinking about it and stepped just out of his reach.
"I didn't know that you knew that. I thought you thought my name was Jew, or kike or Khyiel." I muttered, scratching the back of my head awkwardly. I didn't mean to piss him off, but it really had surprised me. His head shot back and he pinched the bridge of his nose the way Stan used to do when he was insanely irritated with idiotic things.
"Is this really what we're gonna do right now? The whole school's gon batshit and all you can think of is that I pronounced your simple assed name correctly?"
"But you never called me by my name before." I mumbled, a little embarrassed at the fact that I even cared either way. When I finally chanced a glance up at him, his face had gone blank and he was looking off into space, obviously mentally evaluating something. Before I could debate with myself whether snapping him out of his thoughts was a good idea or not, the clacking of heels echoed from the hall and I twisted around defensively, thinking Wendy and Stan had brought their fistfight over here again. Thankfully a single shock of bright red hair doused my… not fear, just self preservation.
"Hey you guys! Have you guys seen- erm… seen Bebe?" Red asked, double taking as she saw Tweek shuffling suggestively in Craig's lap, the later still indifferently strumming his guitar.
"We haven't." Tweek answered for them as Clyde and Token rounded the corner.
"H-have you two seen Bebe?" she asked again, eyes still stuck on Tweek and Craig. So I guess I'm not the only one.
"No. Actually." Clyde muttered, before taking a seat against Craig's new desk ignoring the two as if it were nowhere near news to him. Hell, maybe it wasn't. Maybe those of Craig's gang were entitled to learning about shit like that before everybody else, or maybe they were all fucking each other. Token sat down beside Clyde on the floor, damn near pulling a Tweek and hopping in the teens lap, himself. I rolled my eyes and groaned. Yeah. Defiantly fucking each other.
"Holy shit. Bebe? Is that you?" Red screeched at a bundle of dark and faded cloth that apparently had been trying to secretly slink out of existence down the hall. She startled and turned at the sound of her name, putting on what looked like an extremely forced and meek smile before shuffling over to greet Red.
"Yeah. Hey." She mumbled, scratching her face before and shoving her hands in her gigantic hoodie's pockets. Red clacked over to her, irritated scowl set on her face.
"Hey? What the hell happened to you this morning, we were supposed to meet for coffee? Did you catch the flu or get hit by homeless shelter? What's going on?" Red twisted the girl around glaring at her clothes, looking as if she wanted to incinerate them on the spot. Bebe just shrugged noncommittally and mumbled on,
"It's cold outside." As if that had ever stopped her from wearing the most revealing clothing to school imaginable. Just last week when the snow was piled four feet up and the wind chill was fifty below, she had on red shorts and a sheer tanktop that showed off her leopard print bra- and that was her dressed warmly! "A-and I was there at Starbucks but you were talking to some guy. I didn't want to interrupt so I sat in the back and waited for you to get done. But then you sat in the middle of the room and there were so many people around…"
"The only guy I talked to was the cashier and we always sit in the middle because you like to be seen!" Red countered, obviously agitated and beyond confused as to where the hell all this was coming from. Bebe flinched at the raise in the girls' voice and seemed to curl even further into herself.
"I know but, I didn't really want all those people looking at me. It would've been awkward, you know?"
I found myself grimacing. Even though Bebe was a bit loose to say the least, she was fun that way and we'd all gotten used to her. Now, this with the dirty hair and mountains of clothes and total lack of confidence- it was…
"Fucking creepy." Craig nodded in agreement scowling slightly.
"It's like she's dead or something."
"It's worst than if she was dead! Where the hell are the BOOBS?" Clyde punched the wall.
"You want boobs Clyde? I can get you s-"
"SHUT UP TOKEN!" Clyde, Craig and I shouted in unison. He reared back like a dog that had been reprimanded. I felt a little bad but with only a few of us still behaving normally, tensions were running higher than normal. We needed to fix this somehow. These cookies had everything completely fucked!
I turned back to Cartman, who I would've assumed had been done with his internal rant or whatever the hell it was a while ago, but the moment I turned, his gaze locked on mine, making me immediately uncomfortable as hell.
His chocolate brown eyes were too damn intense and I felt weird even recognizing that much. I mean, I usually looked in his eyes to tell his feelings. When we fight, they sometimes dull with irritation or gleam with outright amusement. When he'd furious, his entire face tends to go slack leaving his eyes light up like fire. But his look right now was neither of those. Whatever the hell it was sent a twinge of… something down my gut. I don't think I like it… I don't like it at all.
"H-hey Cartman?" I stepped forward hesitantly reaching out for him. "You alright, dude?" the second my hand made contact with his coat jacket, he snapped back into reality, roughly. He swung his arm, flinging me back into the closest wall of lockers, (what is this, the third… fourth time today?) the suddenness of it, ripping a pained gasp from my throat. I looked up and Cartman had stumbled backwards hand gripping his head in pain. He looked at me and something akin to recognition and even a flicker of regret crossed his face before he turned heel and stormed the other way.
"Cartman!" I shouted, standing up and following him down the hall and around the corner.
"Don't fucking follow me!" He shouted, speeding up. I scowled and continued, speeding up as well.
"Why are you running away, fatass?" I called, my voice echoing off the nearly empty corridor walls.
"Why are you chasing after me KHYLE?!" Cartman countered, threatening a full-blown run. We'd barely made it halfway down the hall before Craig shouted,
"What the hell are you two retards doing?" He along with everyone else who'd been in the other hall peeked around the corner at us in obvious confusion. I shrugged and swore when I turned to see Cartman jogging down the hall and away from me.
"Damnit, Cartman! Stop!" I called, running after him and nearly crashing into him when he surprisingly did. I sighed heavily, officially annoyed.
"Where the hell are you going!? Weren't you the one who said we needed to keep level heads? I need you, dude! I need you here to keep me sane!" I didn't actually mean for it to sound as pleading as it did, but I suppose it didn't really matter. He hadn't broke out into another sprint nor had he turned and laughed in my face. I wasn't sure if those were good signs or not yet.
"I can't help you Kyle." He spoke softly, and I ignored the little excited thump my heart gave at hearing my actual name on his lips again. Excitement and appreciation. That's what that was.
"B-but why?" I whined, ignoring the fact that I was whining because Cartman was willingly leaving me the hell alone.
Cartman turned slightly, glaring at me from out of the corner of his eye. But he wasn't angry. He wasn't even amused. It was the same look in his eyes that he had before. The one that I don't like. That I defiantly don't like…
"Kyle." He murmured softer than I've ever heard him, sending chills down my spine- confused chills. Because I was confused. Obviously.
He turned fully and grabbed me by the front of the shirt, much like Stan had done earlier, but somehow, not even a notably unmanly squeak could manage it's way through my lips. I was frozen everywhere except in my chest where my heart decided to snort cocaine and was practically bouncing off my chest cavity, bruising my ribs with it's force. I blinked twice and Cartman was hovering over me. I didn't dare look into his eyes, so I involuntarily settled on the bottom half of his face, his nose in specific. I can understand, however, how some people would mistake that I was staring at his lips, and by association the smooth looking pink tongue that darted out momentarily, leaving a trail of glisten across them.
"I think I've lost my mind too." He finished, so low I hardly heard him, before closing the small gap between us.
All function between my mind and my body stopped and I don't even think I breathed for a while. Seconds that could've easily been hours passed and I felt thick fingers cupping the back of my head, threading through my hair. My eyes shut automatically and my hands- BY THEIR OWN ACCORD- fisted in his shirt. Under his shirt, his own heart beat just as hard as mine. Somebody sighed contentedly, though I'm pretty sure it was Butters. Shocks and sparks danced wherever his other large hand roamed along my shoulder, down my arm, to my waist… and as his mouth maneuvered on mine I tasted a hint of chocolate and cinnamon, a pairing I could only rightfully associate with Liane Cartman's famous cinnamon hot chocolate.
So that's what Craig was talking about… My mind unhelpfully offered as I sunk into the taste. Yeah… I get it now. Why the hell not?
Somewhere… back in the world where more people than just me, Cartman and Prophet Craig existed, Clyde shouted excitedly,
"I win! I called it! Junior year! Pay up mothafuckas!"
Sooooo~~ Whaddid ya think? Huh-huh? Lol! I thought the whole thing was fucking random as hell and funny. I had to keep going back like, wait what happened there and woah did that really just happen? I hope the ending wasn't too obvious but yeah.. Kyman all the way baby! I'll be adding in more pairings as the story progresses. You should all be mortified... btw: don't think this is the end of the crazy cookie outcomes! Side effects may include, a lot more shit bro. BWEHEHE!
Cartman: What the fuck is your problem, ho?
Me: Whatcha talkin bout hun? You wanted to kiss Kyle right?
Cartman: *blushing* Even if I did, why the hell'd you make me all gay and shit? "I think I've lost my mind too~" What the hell is this? San Francisco?
Me: I'm so sorry baby, I'll defiantly make you more manly in the next chapter!
Cartman: That right bitch! Betta respect mah authoritah!
Cartman: What the fuck was that?
Me: Darlin, could you please try on this here?
Cartman: You wouldn't!
Me: Oh hell yeah. I defiantly would.