idiots in love

~ 23 ~

Kenny didn't miss South Park. After weeks of sunbathing, splashing in cool water, and temporarily living in a motel that is ten times better than his crappy home, it was normal to miss Florida instead. As they caught the bus leaving the airport and steered closer home, they passed all of his friends' houses then reached the furthest part of South Park where their rundown house resided. It was a harsh remainder that there's no likely chance he and his family will ever step foot out of state again.

The fresh odor of unwashed clothes and mold tore into his nose as soon as they returned. He didn't miss it but it was familiar; it was home. He took off to his room, threw his luggage aside then landed on the broken-stringed mattress older than him. His phone flashes displaying the read time: 11:32 and several text messages from Clyde, Cartman, Token, Kyle, but mostly from Butters. If he wanted to, he could throw on the orange parka he hasn't used in weeks and head to school, just in time for lunch and then dip afterwards. But the comfort of his own room and mattress made it difficult to peel himself off his bed. As he allowed his exhaustion to completely takeover, he heard a faint ringtone, a specific one he set just for Butters, before he fell asleep.
__________________________________________

"Well?"

By the sinks, Clyde watched Butters pace back and forth, holding his phone in one ear. The ringing was faint but the sharp beep of an unanswered call wasn't.

"I-I-I-Isn't it obvious?" Jimmy stood by the bathroom wall that used to be clean but is now plastered with posters, flyers, and graffiti of dicks, vaginas, and list rating girls from each grade. "Kenny won't answer." He shook his head and murmured, "I can't believe we missed 4th period for this."

Clyde rolled his eyes. "Yeah, but is it on purpose or what?"

"Aw gee," Butters stood still this time, chewing on the inside of his cheek, "he hasn't even looked at my texts."

"Well, what a w-w-w-w-waste of time." His crutches clicked and clacked on the bathroom's tiled floor as he headed to the door. "I'm out."

Butters was still glued onto his phone, texting away not really concerned that Jimmy's leaving.

"Oh c'mon, don't you want to ask if he stole a ukulele for you?" Clyde chuckled.

The shrill sounds of the school bell rang in the school restroom, echoing all the way down to the last stall. Jimmy shook his head. "Not missing lunch for K-k-k-k-Kenny."

. . .

All Wendy needed, after finishing the calculus exam she stressed over for days, was some shitty cafeteria food. It didn't occur to her that across her classroom was Stan's Algebra 2 class and when their eyes met as they both entered the hallway, they chose to head to the cafeteria together.

It's been years since they were last seen this close. The tension between the two got so out of hand, they spent their high-school days avoiding certain hallways so they wouldn't spot each other. But the way they eased into conversation that never felt awkward  made it seem like there was never tension to begin with. Everything from the past was left behind and their friendship reset.

Anyone who knew Wendy knew when she's heated, she can talk about the source of her annoyance for hours. Some friends would listen patiently, others would cut her off. Stan did neither. He pretends to listen and let her ramble because he's easily distracted. She was accustomed to that habit during their relationship and it didn't shock her that it never died when they reached high-school. In fact, she found it amusing. He was always distracted by the same person. Kyle.

His careful eye followed David and Kyle. The traffic in the hallways was always crazy after fourth period so even if Stan wanted to, there was no way he could catch up. As Wendy followed Stan's line of vision, she noticed David's new haircut and pierced ears and Kyle looking at it in awe. She swore she heard Stan snort but it was so loud in the hallways, she couldn't tell. All of a sudden, Kyle stared straight back at them for a brief moment before looking away.