HAZY [ southpark ]

chapter two

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The sun beat down mercilessly as they rolled up to the skate park, the concrete radiating heat like a bastard. A few other skaters were already there, grinding rails and catching air, but there was enough room for Stan, Kenny, and the rest to claim their usual spot near the beat-up half-pipe.

Stan was on his board before his bag hit the ground, rolling back and forth like a caged animal. He dropped into the half-pipe, attempting some trick he'd probably seen on TV. Y/N watched as he went up, then came crashing down, barely managing to stay upright.

"Jesus, Stan," Kyle muttered, cracking open a warm soda. "You're gonna end up in traction if you keep that shit up."

"Fuck off," Stan shot back, rubbing his elbow. "At least I'm not sitting on my ass all day."

Kenny glided up beside Y/N, hands shoved deep in his hoodie pockets. "Wanna take a spin, babe?" he asked, nodding toward the half-pipe. "I promise I won't laugh. Much."

Y/N snorted, shaking her head. "Yeah, right. I'd rather keep my teeth, thanks."

Kenny leaned in, his breath hot on her ear. "Shame. I bet you'd look hot with a couple missing."

Before Y/N could respond, Stan came rolling over, his board screeching to a halt. "Watch this," he said, a manic glint in his eye. He sped up and attempted a flip, but his board went one way and he went the other, landing hard on his ass.

Kyle burst out laughing, nearly choking on his drink. "Oh man, that was gold. Someone should've recorded that shit."

Stan flipped him off, wincing as he got to his feet. "Like you could do any better, asshole."

"Never said I could," Kyle replied, still chuckling. "But I'm not the one trying to be Tony Hawk here."

Kenny shrugged, his usual half-smile in place. "It's not a competition, but..." Without another word, he dropped into the half-pipe, effortlessly rolling up and down before launching into a clean flip that looked almost lazy.

Y/N's eyes followed him, watching the fluid way he moved, like the board was an extension of his body. He skated back over, stopping inches from her. "See? Easy as breathing," he said, like it was no big deal.

Stan groaned, rubbing his bruised ego (and probably his bruised ass). "Fucking show-off."

"Can't help it if I'm naturally gifted," Kenny replied with a wink at Y/N. "But hey, I'd be happy to give you some... private lessons."

Y/N rolled her eyes, fighting a smile. "In your dreams, McCormick."

The afternoon dragged on, a haze of sweat and concrete dust. Stan and Kenny took turns one-upping each other, while Kyle offered running commentary from the sidelines. Y/N stuck to the flat ground, content to roll around without risking life and limb.

Eventually, Stan skated over to where Y/N was perched on a graffitied bench. He was drenched in sweat, panting like he'd run a marathon. "I'm done," he wheezed, collapsing next to her. "Skateboarding is bullshit."

Y/N handed him a water bottle. "Until tomorrow, right?"

"Fuck you," Stan said without heat, guzzling half the bottle. He glanced over at Kenny, who was still going strong. "How the hell does he do that? Guy's like the Energizer bunny or some shit."

"It's all the Monster," Kyle chimed in, joining them. "Dude's probably more caffeine than blood at this point."

Kenny finally skated over, sliding to a stop. He pulled a dented can of Monster from his backpack, tossing it to Y/N. "Heads up."

She caught it, surprised. "You had this the whole time?"

"Always come prepared," Kenny said with a lazy grin. "Besides, looked like you needed it more than me."

Y/N cracked it open, the sickly sweet smell filling the air. "My hero," she deadpanned, taking a swig.

"What can I say? I'm a giver," Kenny replied, his smirk turning slightly wicked.

As the sun dipped lower, casting long shadows across the cracked concrete, they sprawled out near the edge of the park. Stan was flat on his back, arm thrown over his eyes, while Kyle watched the sunset mindlessly. Kenny was still messing with his board, and Y/N leaned back, watching the sky turn a dirty orange.

"So," Stan mumbled, not bothering to move his arm. "We doing Clyde's thing this weekend or what?"

Kyle shrugged. "I'm in, I guess. But if Cartman starts shit again, I'm out."

"Fair enough," Y/N said, glancing at Kenny. "What about you? You coming?"

Kenny looked up, meeting her eyes. For a second, something almost serious flickered across his face. But then he grinned and shrugged. "Wouldn't miss it."

"Great," Stan said dryly. "It's a date."

Y/N chucked an empty can at him. "Eat shit, Marsh."

The sun disappeared behind the power lines, and one by one, the flickering streetlights sputtered to life. The park was nearly empty now, just them and a couple of stoners lingering by the rail.

"Alright, I'm out," Kyle said, hauling himself up. "My mom's gonna flip her shit if I'm late again."

They gathered their crap, trudging up the hill toward home. Y/N fell into step beside Kenny, who was rolling his board along with one foot. It was quiet, just the sound of wheels on pavement and distant traffic.

"Same time tomorrow?" Stan asked, already knowing the answer.

"Like we've got anything better to do," Y/N replied.

And with that, they split off, heading their separate ways into the growing darkness.
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