Chapter Text
Thursday.
The cafeteria radiated a sickening stench of greasy food - that could've practically been classed as radioactive - mingling with the body odour of pubescent teenagers. Kyle's face scrunched up into a grimace, suddenly losing any sense of appetite. He almost immediately turned to Butters and asked, "Do you want this?" yet proceeded to slide the tray across the table and over to him before he could even agree. Butters simply smiled and mumbled a grateful 'Thanks!' with a mouthful of Kyle's previously untouched sandwich. He didn't seem to realise that Kyle's actions were less out of generosity and more out of wanting to save himself.
The rest of their rowdy group bickered and conversed the way teenage boys would, but Kyle was lost in his thoughts - his hands reached for the sanitiser he kept within the close reach of his jacket's pocket. However, one sentence made his head snap up; mentally cursing the way he got far too invested far too quickly, he schooled a casual expression.
"Wendy was complaining about me again, apparently I'm not as good a boyfriend as Clyde is." He sounded frustrated, confused even.
Cartman guffawed as sadistically as ever. He got off on the misery of, well, anyone. "Ha! That's what you get for picking the feminist bitch to be your girlfriend!"
"The rest of the girls are bimbos or ugly, his only other option would've been a dude," Kenny muttered with a laugh, finding humour within his own joke and already picturing the girls' faces if they'd heard that.
Kyle rolled his eyes, stomach twisting. "You two can be such inconsiderate assholes." He tried to argue, but as always, he was shut down by mocking comments and taunting laughter. Kenny, however? He knew. Of course he did. Subtly, he sent a cheeky eyebrow wiggle in the ginger's direction - just enough to make his cheeks flame. Kyle forced a weak glare, grumbling some incoherent curse - unsure who it was directed to - as he masked the frantic beating of his heart behind a 'nonchalant' facade.
Eventually, Kenny spared Kyle from any further humiliation before the others picked up on the way their friend was a flustered wreck, leaving Kyle picking at his nails to pass the time. He waited - as the clock ticked agonisingly slow - for the bell to ring. The moment he heard shuffling feet and the distant sound of the blaring bell from the halls, he jumped to his feet, almost tripping over the leg of his chair in the process. Cartman chuckled at his antics, throwing out a 'nerd!' But for once, Kyle wasn't rushing because of his love for education - it was for a completely different reason altogether. Stan got up soon after, "Hey, wait for me!" while finishing up the last of his milkshake and tossing it into the trash can. It was a mere couple centimetres away, yet he grinned in triumph. Any win was worth celebrating in his books.
The other four eventually caught up to his unnecessarily rapid pace, pushing and shoving the seventh graders - who hadn't mastered surviving cafeteria traffic - to get themselves into the corridors. Cartman had stolen a backpack off of a younger kid's shoulders and launched it across the hallway, followed by the noise of a bunch of squealing students whom it had landed on the heads of. "Headshot!"
Butters called out apologies on the others' behalf after each aggressive push, trying to balance helping the other students and saving himself from being used as entertainment himself. Kenny's laughter rang out, leading the group.
Once the hallway had emptied out - the lower grades all rushed to class out of a fear of being late - the group split up. Cartman, Butters and Kenny sneakily went over to a randomly - and unluckily - chosen locker. Listening to the stupidly convincing goads from the other boys, Butters slammed his shoulder into the locker; due to how cheaply funded everything was, it creaked open. There behold a third grader's stash of vapes. "Ha! No way! Cartman exclaimed with wide eyes, to which Kenny blurted out with: "Pussy sticks!"
Meanwhile, Stan's feet lead him over to Heidi and Nichole - his mind still hooked on the fact that Wendy thought he wasn't good enough - as he stopped directly in-front of them with the usual gleam of determination in his eyes that he got when challenged. "Heidi, Nicole! What am I doing wrong!?" was all he could muster up, his eyebrows knotting together. The two girls shared a sidelong glance before breaking out into ridiculing laughter, Heidi shooing him off with a lazy flick of the wrist. He scoffed: "Seriously?!"
And then there was Kyle: walking the halls alone while all his friends scattered off to their own devices. He heard a call of his name, the voice familiar - Tolkien's. "Come with us, dude, why are you walking alone?"
He gently tugged Kyle towards him and his gang, after all, Tolkien had often been Kyle's shoulder to lean on when the others were too engrossed with their own lives to notice him. As he headed to class alongside new company, his eyes began to wander to the couple slightly ahead of the others - Tweek and Craig. Their minimal efforts to hide PDA were impossible to ignore. Their hands were intertwined, Craig's thumb subconsciously caressing the other boy's knuckles. Kyle swallowed - hard. The once annoying complaints of Clyde - who had his food stolen by a random student - had become background noise as he zeroed in on the romantic gesture. Why did he care?
He ripped his gaze away and stared down at the floor as if it was suddenly the most entertaining thing he'd seen all day. Something in him twisted, an unfamiliar tightness in his chest - like a balloon being squeezed too hard. His thoughts spiralled faster than he could follow, struggling to get a grip on himself. He shook away the thoughts, letting out a sigh that sounded like it weighed tons before heading inside.
Despite his heavy heart, he politely smiled at Tolkien and thanked him for including him. He slumped into his seat, letting his backpack carelessly hit the ground as he ran a hand over his face. He didn't want to deal with absolutely anything. To top it all off, Mr. Mackey was lecturing the class on the importance of mental health. "I know exams are stressful, m'kay, but your health should always come first. Does anyone have any methods for staying calm?"
Bebe, Craig, Kenny, and of course, Cartman all raised their hands. Not that they wanted to participate, but the class found it excessively hilarious to mock Mr. Mackey's 'm'kay's' while he somehow never managed to catch on; it had been a running joke since they were in fourth grade. Normally, Kyle would've at least contributed with an obnoxious laugh that blended in with the chaos of the classroom, but he couldn't seem to find the energy. His palm rested on his cheek, eyes drooping as he let himself zone out - who really paid attention to the pointless rambles of Mr. Mackey?
Just as he was going to let himself slip into a distressed sleep, something hit the back of his head. He turned around with a fire in his eyes - he was too overwhelmed to deal with nonsense right now, his temper fragile. He had assumed Cartman was playing a prank, but then his eyes landed on the scrunched up paper ball beside his chair. With a confused hum, he picked it up and un-scrunched the paper. His mood completely shifted, a softer look replacing the prior irritation.
The note read: "Hangout with me after school?" in handwriting so rushed and messy it was unmistakably Stan's. He smiled to himself, feeling weirdly warm inside as the torment of today was melted away by that one simple act.