The Scenic Route

Chapter 6

Kyle doesn't say anything. He's been afraid to bring this up ever since he got his acceptance letter. He can't go anywhere that won't offer him a full scholarship, because he'd be rejected for even a five hundred dollar loan. He ruined his credit when he was nine years old, trying to prove a point about the economy to the idiots in South Park. He actually applied to UCLA as soon as Stan started seriously considering playing for their team, but Stan doesn't know that. Kyle got accepted, too, but with no scholarship.

"It'll be okay," Kyle says. Stan's hand slides off of him, and Kyle closes his eyes. It felt true when Stan was still touching him: it'll be okay.

"I guess," Stan says. "What if everyone at UCLA is a huge douche?"

"They won't be."

"Well. What if everyone at Penn State is? I mean. I bet most of them will be."

Kyle grins and rolls onto his back. Stan looks serious, like he's really worried about this, or hoping that it will be true, that Kyle will find everyone else in the world lacking in comparison. It's not such a stretch to imagine that he might; he certainly has so far.

"Come play football for Penn State," he says.

"It's not that easy. They didn't recruit me. I can't just, like. Show up to their camp."

"Why not? Steal someone else's locker. Assume the identity of a Penn State player. I'll help."

"You sound like Cartman."

"Dude!"

Stan grins. "I meant that in the best way."

Kyle makes a disapproving sound and pretends to send a punch toward Stan's face, pressing his knuckles to his cheek in slow motion. It's an old habit. He doesn't know what he'll do without the feeling of Stan's cheek against his fist, the way Stan smiles down at him when he does this. He's going to keep his cool, isn't going to let Stan get him worked up or hopeful, but he really doesn't know what the fuck he's going to do.

"That was my only idea," Kyle says. "The identity stealing one. Your turn."

"My turn? Come to UCLA. They'd accept you."

"It's too late to apply." Kyle doesn't want to admit that the only reason he's not following Stan to the ends of the earth is the loan thing. Stan must have forgotten about it. Kyle certainly did, until he got his loan applications rejected.

For a moment Stan looks like he has more to say, then he just settles down onto the sleeping bag, folding his arms behind his head and staring at the roof of the tent. Kyle arranges the blanket over both of them, not wanting to hog it. He rolls onto his side and sneaks a few nervous glances at Stan before closing his eyes and pretending to sleep.

"C'mon, people now, people now," Stan says, singing under his breath. Kyle opens his eyes, grinning, but Stan is still just staring into space, looking grave. Kyle closes his eyes again.

Sometime around dawn it starts raining, just lightly, but enough to send Cartman harrumphing into the tent, dragging Kyle's sleeping bag with him.

"Fags to the left," he says, pushing Stan out of the way. Stan lands on Kyle, scowling over his shoulder at Cartman and herding Kyle toward the wall of the tent.

"Camping is fucking gay," Cartman says. He slumps over in a heap inside Kyle's sleeping bag and immediately begins snoring. Stan sighs and settles back down onto the pillow, still pressed against Kyle with Cartman taking up most of the room inside the tent. Kyle pretends to be asleep. He can feel Stan's breath on the back of his neck, and tries mightily not to allow this to make him hard. Eventually he gives in, lets it happen. The wet sound of Cartman's snoring keeps it from becoming a full blown, needful boner, and when he wakes up again, despite the fact that Stan's face is pressed fully to his neck now, he's soft.