You seem a little different--Kenjorine

Chapter 16 ⭐

(A/N: I know the story is getting boring, I'm sorry.)

Marjorine's stomach growled, interrupting Father by The Front Bottoms. It was loud and deep, and made Kenny laugh a bit. He paused the song, smiling down at Marjorine, who was now embarrassed and hiding her face in his chest.

"Are you hungry?" He chuckled.

"No," Marjorine lied, her voice muffled by Kenny's skin. Her stomach growled again, and she huffed in annoyance and embarrassment.

"I think you're hungry."

"No, Kenny, it's really fine-"

Kenny interrupted her by sitting up, and she slid off him like an ice cube on a slanted marble countertop. He grunted and stretched his arms over his head, letting a hearty groan into the air. Marjorine made her way into a sitting position as well, and she leaned against the wall, legs hunched up in front of her.

"Well, let's go eat. I'm sure Kevin made something before he went to work." He stood, stretching once again. He fell back on the bed, dizzy from getting up so fast. Marjorine giggled, putting a hand over her mouth to stifle the noise.

It turned out, Kevin had made something before leaving for work. On the fridge sat a highlighter yellow post-it-note that read; in scribbled, quickly written words: "hey kenny, kennys gf, i left some pasketti for u guys in the fidge. karen already ate." Marjorine read over Kenny's shoulder and laughed quietly at the formatting of the message. Kenny simply nodded and opened the fridge.

The inside of the fridge was quite a depressing sight. It was almost dramatic, like the exaggerated fridge of a low class family in a Hollywood movie. The light in the top flickered, the bulb almost dead. The chill that came out wasn't very cold at all, as if it had been worked to the point of exhaustion for many years. The shelves were almost barren; save for a few fruits and veggies, a large pot of spaghetti, a couple six-packs of Coronas, and a pack of expired Go-Gurts.

Kenny took one of the six-packs in his hand and set it on the counter before pulling out the pot of spaghetti. Marjorine's eyebrow arched in confusion.

"Why did you take the beer out?" She asked, leaning against the counter where Kenny was standing. "It wasn't in the way." She, subconsciously, knew the answer, but needed confirmation from the one who was gonna make her suspicions a reality.

"Well, I'm gonna drink it. You can have some too, if you want," he offered, looking at Marjorine out of the corner of his eye as he reached up to get bowls out of the cabinet above him. The pair shuddered at the loud shriek-like creak that echoed through the almost completely silent kitchen.

"Won't your parents get mad?" Marjorine asked worriedly, picking at the skin around her fingernails.

"No, it's my beer. I plan on drinking it all tonight anyways," Kenny shrugged, pulling a pasta server out of a red ceramic cooking utensil holder. He began noisily taking off the aluminum foil draped over the container, sticking his tongue out of the side of his teeth.

"But, you'll get drunk!" Marjorine objected, her eyebrows knitting together in distress.

"That's the point, Sugar." He started scooping the pasta into the two clear plastic bowls he had sat in front of him. "And you will, too, if you join me."

Marjorine sat in silence for a minute or two, contemplating his offer as he put a bowl in the old, busted up microwave. Maybe she should. She didn't drink often, as she was still underage, but maybe it would help her let loose a little. She'd been pretty stressed ever since she ran away. Maybe drinking with Kenny is what she'd need to finally relax. As soon as the microwave went off for the first time, she had made up her mind.

"Sure, why not?" She grinned. Kenny smiled back as he pulled the bowl out of the microwave.

"Great. You want to come out and smoke with me? I got a pack of Molboro's in my nightstand, but it's chill if you don't do that."

Marjorine melted, and her face lit up in surprise and relief. "Really? I've been killing for a cig, but I forgot to bring the pack I have right now," she sighed, making her way over to the microwave to put her bowl of spaghetti in the microwave.

Kenny was surprised. "You smoke? I was guessin' you would say no cuz' you don't do that thing," Kenny chuckled out, thinking of how surprising it was that she'd smoke. Back when she went by Butters, she was a goody two-shoes. She'd never in her life dream of smoking unless it was to impress some group she was in. She'd always been like that. Striving for approval, even if it pushed past her limits. Kenny wondered why.

"Yeah, I started when I heard it was a stress reliever," she explained, pushing the buttons on the microwave. She had to push a couple two times; from constant pressing, they had worn down.

As she started the microwave, she turned to Kenny, who was looking at her like an amused parent.

"What?" She giggled, smirking.

"Nothing. Let's go get some clothes on so we can smoke."

As they walked out the door, in hoodies and sweatpants, with some sandals, the cold winter air hit them like a truck, and they shivered. It was way too cold to be outside, but that doesn't matter to a smoker. The stars gleamed in the clear sky, adding a bit of light to the frosty night.

Kenny pulled out his Malboro's and a black lighter as Marjorine watched in raw anticipation. Her foot tapped against the snow on the ground excitedly, making an array of small crunching sounds.

As he pulled out two cigarettes, he closed the box and shoved it back into the pocket of his gray sweatpants. He lit one and handed it to Marjorine, who took it in her hands like it was some sacred item.

She'd really needed a smoke.