Chapter Text
It was raining outside. Pretty heavy. The rain droplets became stripes, piercings throught cold air, slamming onto the ground loudly. Cartman still went to school, though.
He waits under the new-built bus stop. Are these pussies not coming? Cartman clutched onto his backpack, waiting for his dummass friends to come.
He sees familiar tall figure from afar. Well, at least Kyle's coming. Of course he is! It's the end of the school year, exams, all the important bullshit. It seems to be a hard time fir him. Look, he is already deep focused on something.
Cartman glances over kyles face. He is standing next to him under the roof, arms shoved into pockets.
– Hey, Kyle. Where is the rest? Probably sitting home fearing to wet their panties in this storm.
– Mhm, – Kyle answers shortly.
They stand silent. Cold rain washing over the street. A drop falls on Cartmans shoulder. This weak-ass bus stop roof already gained holes.
The thunder growls. It grows louder and a harsh "BANG" is spreading in the area.
Cartman flinches slitly at sound, but quickly recovers abd throws his arm over Kyles shoulder, tugging him a bit roughly to his side.
– Aww, Kyle, don't be scared. Its just a storm. – he said , provocatively messing with the ear of Kyle's hat.
Quickly breaking out of Cartmans touch, Kyle just heavily signed. No other reaction.
– Aren't you gonna say something? – Cartman slightly turned his face get a better angle, analysing Kyles expression. Brows are furrowed, jaw's tight. The jew is certainly annoyed. His eyes are wide open - not even looking at other boy!
Exams seem to be REALLY stressful to this guy.
The bus came some time after.
It was practically empty - just a few of underclassmen and some girl from parallel grade Cartman didn't know. He walks to the backseats, falling in a cushion right next to the window. Grabbing his phone from the pocket, he sees a message in a familiar groupchat:
"Anyone up to CSgo?" he reads the message from Kenny. Seriously? At 7 AM?
He places his fat fingers on screen, typing impressively quickly.
"No1ns playing counter strike rn, Krnny, I'm @ the bus", answering , Cartman makes sure to add unnecessary typing quirks. Because they're really cool and awesome.
"No way, dude. You actually took your ass out in this disaster and came to fucking school? I can see the school bus from my window and its already floating in water like a Titanic." Yeah, thats a good take - he wouldn't miss this opportunity to stay at home if his mom didn't become a bitch and forced him to study.
"I thought school was cancelled?" Stan added himself to conversation. Poor buddy is laying under ten blankets with a deathly temperature of 36.7 C. It's a third day this motherfucker is skipping.
"C'mon guys, its only a little-tiny rain. Kyle came here and didn't melt like a sugarcube. And he has diabetes or something."
" What diabetes?"
"Type 1"
"1"
Turning his attention away from Kenny's incredible intellectual capabilities, Cartman looked around for Kyle. He catches a green spot, sitting in front.
Getting ready for exams, probably.
Tests were on every fucking period, its unbearable! Except for biology.
Cartman regretted getting into this class, which made out to be not-so fun as he thought. He wished Kenny would be there to joke about Mendel's law Alabama peas, but he was smart enough to pick normal subjects.
Stan has attended this class too, because he wants to be a vet. Not like he wouldn't faint seeing mildly ill dog or blood.
But Kyle was there. The future doctor life-savior was listening to monotone teacher's voice, looking almost focused.
Cartman took the ink stick out of his pen. Then he quietly, almost invisibly, ripped small piece out of his notebook. He made three little balls.
First ball flew badly, undetected. It was lost in classrooms dusty floor.
Second crushed over Craigs shoulder. The boy threw a deadly stare, but continued to work.
Cartman rolls last spitball in his fingers. He turns his gaze back to Kyle. Still in his ushanka. He ditched it in 7th grade, only for some girl he liked to call his hair "Mr's Tuckers bush, but orange". Strange, it made Kyle tuck his hair deep under the hat.
Well, it does its work poorly. There are few ginger curls sticking out. They seem to be pretty long and fluffy. Kinda look like pretty roses if you turn your brain off and forget its attached to a jew.
Cartman grins mischievously. He shoves the last ball in hole, holding a tight end between his teeth, chewing on it. Red lock infront of him looks just like a target circle. Aiming, he takes a breath and spits.
Perfectly in the lock! LeBron is drooling in jealousy!
Cartman feels adrenaline rush overtaking his body. Last time he did it, Kyle got so pissed he broke a piece out of desk in Mr's Kirken class and had to pay with his Jewish gold for a new one. He sure almost broke Cartmans arm after school. Worth it, though.
Now he waits..
And..
No reaction.
It was unusually quite in cafeteria. Everyone's nose was stuck in notebooks. Even Clyde, who brags about not-caring about school is deep down in studies.
Cartman doesn't need to study - he successfully cheated half of tests, even under supervision of Miss Goyda. So he is extremely bored.
When the word "bored" echoes in his head, his brain immediately turns to Kyle.
The boy is sitting next to him, scribbling something on the paper. Not like he is a good artist. Especially in comparing to a professional Austrian painter Cartman, who almost won Colorados Young Artist competition-
– You were kicked out for drawing guro.
Cartman didn't notice he was actually speaking out loud. It kinda concerned him, but whatever. He leans to Kyle, who is sitting in a shrimp figure, eyes hidden by Ushankas ear.
– And you didn't even bother to attend, Jew. Because jews can't art. – Wow, creative, – Gimme this. Maybe, just maybe, I'll give you few tips.
Trying to snap the notebook out of Kyles hands, Cartman reached over his palms. Kyle quickly ripped a page of it, crumpling it in his fist.
And then he ate it.
Okay,
– Fine, if you don't want to show me, i won't bother you.
Kyle looked at him lost eyed, breathing heavily. It was weird, concerning.. or amusing. Cartman wasn't sure, but his actions were far infront of his thoughts.
– If I take your fairy dairy, you will eat it too?
Cartman hands only touched the hard edge of a notebook and it was already taken and showed in a backpack.
– Don't touch my personal things, fatass! – Kyle exclaimed in old-fashioned maner. It eased Cartman in a comforting way.
– But please, Kahl! Enlight me with your Jew-mason world knowledge you've probably been writing in there, – Cartman asked in ironic begging tone.
Kyle cracked a small smile. Only for a second, but its already something.
The bell rings, welcoming students to the last period. Everyone in 11th grade seems nervous. It's gonna be a final math test . Still raining outside. Seems like a totally horrible day for everyone.
It kinda is for Cartman, too. But its also a bad day for Kyle, so Cartman is happy.