You're Useless [Kenny McCormick x Reader]

sixteen

Nothing could've prepared me for tonight. Not even the condoms my dad threw at me after I told him I'd be joining Clyde for dinner.

Clyde and I just made it to his house. I was just wearing a pair of jeans and a sweater since it was beginning to become quite cold. I styled my hair a bit but I didn't want to seem too dressed up. He guided me around the house up until we made it into the kitchen, where his mother was cooking and his father was reading the Sunday paper at the table.

"Hello, Mrs. Donovan," I greeted her with a small wave and a smile.

"Oh! Hello, dear; I didn't realize you'd be here so soon! Dinner is almost ready. And please, call me Betsy," she continued to stir the pasta but looked at me with kind eyes.

"Good evening," Clyde's father looked at me over his paper, seemingly inspecting me.

"This is my husband, Roger. You look beautiful, honey. We're so glad Clyde's found someone else to make him happy after he lost Bebe," Betsy mentioned nonchalantly.

"Mom," Clyde sighed, "Can we not talk about that?"

"Yes, yes, sorry about that," She nodded, placing the pasta onto four ceramic plates, "Go ahead, let's move into the dining room,"

We did as we were told. In the dining room, there was a small wooden table containg six chairs total. Two on the long sides and singular ones on the shorter parallel sides. Clyde sat down on one of the longer table sides and I sat next to him, whereas his parents sat directly in across from us. His mother placed our plates of food down and, before I could shove a bite of the pasta in my mouth, she began interrogating me.

"So, what're your intentions with my son?" Betsy began, twirling her fork.

"I like your son very much. I have no other intentions besides pursuing a healthy, happy relationship with him," I avoided eye contact and took a sip of the water that was in front of me.

"I hope that you won't be a whore like that Bebe girl was," Roger butted in through his food.

"Dad!" Clyde retorted slamming his fist on the table.

"Clyde, we have a guest," Betsy gave Clyde a look that made him sink into his seat. I couldn't help but reach my hand over to his in an attempt to comfort him.

"It is a fair wish though," She continued, "Bebe cheated on you all the time, Clyde,"

"Mother, please, don't be disrespectful towards her," he frowned and his knuckles turned white as he clenched his fist around his fork.

"I'm just saying the truth. Just because she's dead doesn't forgive--"

"Mother!"

His voice echoed through the room a few times but rather than that the entire house grew silent. No one dared to speak and Clyde seemed to fume. He angrily shove spoonfuls of pasta into his mouth. Everyone else ate slowly and anxiously. At least, I did. His parents seemed calm.

"You're lucky, (Y/n)," His mother finally broke the silence, "Clyde is clearly a passionate guy. I wish I'd met a guy like him when I was younger,"

"I know I'm lucky, ma'am. I'm very grateful for your son's affections," was spoken out loud, but I internally said, incest much?

I felt as though it was a bit odd to say that about your own son but I shrugged it off.

She nodded and began eating the food on her plate. I followed in suit. The entire endeavor was quite awkward.

After everyone seemed to finish their food, Betsy collected plates and shoo-ed us off to Clyde's room. I was clearly nervous; I've never been in his house let alone his room. His bedroom was upstairs to the right, with a big wooden door. The room itself was quite large, furnished with a TV, bed, computer, and chairs. It looked like the entire house all placed in one room but in a neat and organized way.