Let me be honest with you

2 0 0
                                    

!! MENTIONS OF EATING DISORDER (ARFID) !!

Stan smiled, "Beef wellington."
This would've been 'heart warming' if Mr. Garrison had context, but he didn't so he just sent Stan to the principal's office.

.
.
.

"...Do you know why you're here?"

Stan looked at the ground and then back up at PC Principal.

"No."

"When asked why you were late for school your only reasoning was 'beef wellington', not only does this demonstrate that you do not value your education, but also your teachers and faculty as you may know that many of us cannot afford such luxuries."

"Oh... I uhh didn't mean it like that," Stan was taken slightly aback.

"You may not have meant it like that, but it was still unfair that you mentioned the meal you had this morning without bringing any leftovers for the teacher."

Stan squinted at PC Principal, his brain and his expression equally as constipated.

"What? No...that doesn't... what I meant was that my dad and I cooked something together because he wanted to spend time with me before school and that was what made me late."

"Then just say that, don't remind us teachers of the things we can't afford."

"...You can technically make it at home, it's by no means easy but you could gather the ingredients and--"

"Lunch detention." PC Principal cut Stan off.

"What?!"

"You try not eating lunch and then you'll know what it's like for us faculty members."

"But I can't miss lunch, PC Principal, I have to meet up with a friend and I--" Stan shifted in his seat anxiously

"Not all of us have friends, y'see, that's your entitlement coming in again."
.
.
.
"It's ok, it takes time to be more considerate of others, but I want to make sure that as your principal I can help you properly reach that goal." PC Principal continued

"Listen, how about I stay after school instead, it's really important that I meet with my friend today."

"No, it has to be lunch, I'm gonna have a long talk with you about respect for our faculty, ok?"

Stan sprung up from his chair. "Fine..." he sighed.

By the time Stan made it back to class, he had already decided that he was going to skip lunch detention and had all of his things packed.
He glared at Cartman and Kenny, there was no way that they could know... but seeing Cartman smile worried him.
What if he did know.
Stan shook his head.
.
.
.
When the bell rang Stan picked up his things and walked right past the principal's office grinning a bit because he had a plan: if he was called in or if the teachers came looking for him, he would tell them that Tweek and Craig were having a couple's quarrel in the courtyard, and knowing PC Principal, he would be keen on resolving their issues first.
Stan looked down at his phone and texted Kyle.
Where do you want to meet?

Kyle is typing... displayed at the bottom
The hall down from the cafeteria with the memorial bench. You can bring your lunch, it's close to the cafeteria so it's ok to eat there

Alright, cool! Stan typed following a thumbs up. He remembered that.
The other year, some kid at school got involved in a car accident and lost his life not too far from campus. He couldn't help but feel depressed if that's where Kyle sat every day. It's a reminder of how short life can be and how inconsequential it is as well.
He never knew the kid personally and neither did Kyle, the only person that seemed to remember him or care was Kip Drordy who also sat at the memorial bench every day for lunch as well. No one really knows how close they were, but it seemed like that kid was Kip's only friend.
It seemed that Kyle had only ever really started sitting there after quarantine and became somewhat socially isolative ever since.

As Stan stood at the doorway peering into the hall, it pained him to see his friend sitting by himself, let alone about 2 ft away from Kip, so he grabbed his lunch and sat down.

"Hey, dude. How are things?"

Kyle looked as if he was going to say something for a moment before going quiet, not meeting Stan's gaze and looking at the ground dormant.
"...Not good."

"Why, what happened?"

"I lost about eight pounds over break and my blood pressure is low and they're going to put me in a facility, Stan..." Kyle teared up.

"Wait...what? I... do you have an eating disorder or something?"

"Yeah..." Kyle looked down and nervously swung one of his legs.
"I didn't want to tell you guys because I thought that you guys would call me a pussy or something, but now--more than ever-- I feel like I have to be honest with the people I care about."

"I would never call you a pussy for something like that, Kyle! And if it makes you feel any better I don't think you'd be as fat as Cartman in a million years. Your body is beautiful dude! well...not in a gay way of course"

"You don't get it, dude. I don't care about how my body looks, I'm not anorexic, they say I have ARFID."

"What's... ARFID?"

Kyle pulled up his phone. "Avoidant Restrictive Food Intake Disorder," Kyle put his phone down. "It's an eating disorder characterized by the avoidance of certain tastes or textures in food or fear of consequences of eating."

"Consequences of eating?"

"Yeah... like choking, Stan. It can come from trauma but it's also common in people who have autism. And unlike anorexia, it's an eating disorder that's more common in boys."

"Oh, I really had no idea... is there anything I can do to help?"

"I don't think so, I guess I just need a bit of support."

"Alright, I think I'm gonna head back to the cafeteria, is that ok or do you want me to stay." Stan got the feeling that Kyle still needed to process what was going on.

"That's fine, Stan, you can go."

.
.
.

"Wait, Stan?"

"Yeah, dude?"

"There actually is something you could do for me."

"...What is it?"

"Could you tell Cartman that his belly rolls are so big I'll butter his ass and sell him at Texas Road House if his mom doesn't make him make me a get well soon card with two gift cards from Tacobell and twenty extra dollars so I can help Neil Cicierega continue making music?"

Stan did a double take.
He would need time to process that request as well.

"I will, Kyle."

When Stan got back to his table, so did Cartman.

"Hey, Stan, what's going on?" Cartman greedily dug into Stan's tater tots like a monster. How could he.

Stan dug into his own tater tots. "Now listen here, you little shit," Stan said with his mouth quite full of tater tots himself.
"Those are mine...bitch."

"You snooze you lose...bitch," Cartman replied, mocking Stan's voice and shoving another tater tot right in his mouth.
"So what's with you and Kyle, did you guys make out or something?"

"Shut up, dude. We were just talking about...stuff."

"Really? What kind of...stuff," Cartman's mouth was full of tater tots from Stan's tray again.

"Gay stuff like home ec class, why, you jealous?"

Cartman scoffed. "Yeah, he's my man."

Stan chuckled. "What the fuck is up your ass today, you little rager?"

"I put an alien probe up there just so I could light your house on fire with my flaming hot farts."

"Gross..."

Stan glared. 'If he does anything to hurt Kyle's recovery I'll kill him' he thought to himself

Just then, Stan felt a hand on his shoulder.

"You're supposed to be in lunch detention, little man."

"Oh geez..."

Kyle Atop Mount SilverheelsWhere stories live. Discover now