Trying Too Hard [Bunny Love Story]

►Chapter Two◄

When I was in fifth grade, I correctly answered a million dollar question and got nothing but misery in return. One thing that a countless number of philosophers have always made a failure of an attempt to answer, a ten-year-old kid managed to do so instead. And what does that elementary schoolboy get as an award? Well, you'd think he at least received a little more aid from God rather than a damaged heart.

What is love?

Are you ready to be mind blown and drowned by the feeling of utter stupidity? It's a simple answer, one that even made me feel like an idiot for not realizing quicker. The correct response to this age-old question is dependent on how you, as an individual, interpret it.

For me love came not with a horse-riding knight in shining armor, but with a dirt-covered poor kid in an orange parka. For Pip it came with fireworks. For Token it was a trap. For Tweek, a night in the hospital. For Stan, a misunderstanding. And for Eric, a punch in the face. It's different for everyone, and the only reason I know of such forms of love is quite honestly because I don't talk to anyone and when nobody spends time with you they begin to forget you even exist. I see and hear things that nobody could ever believe due to how little I mean to my fellow classmates. It's not like in Pip's situation where everyone constantly picks on him and calls him a French fag, despite the fact he's British.

No one pays attention to me.

Aside from Eric Cartman, of course. But he only ever uses me for entertainment or for when he can't get a good enough rise out of Kyle or if he needs someone to do something for him. Because to him I'm a Rook, but to Kenny I was the first Pawn to get knocked down. Now even Eric was too busy pursuing his formation of love to even think of moving me toward the opponents. He was trying to catch up with his Queen, who moved too far in such a short amount of time for such a King to catch up. Now all that's left for me to do is sit on the sidelines and watch the game unfold.

For example, at that moment I was spending my lunch hour in the cafeteria observing the people sitting at the table right across from me. There sat Kenneth McCormick - this was his first day coming back to school after being suspended for a week - Eric Cartman, Stanley Marsh, and Kyle Broflovski. I'm not entirely certain as to whether or not Eric has noticed that Stan and Kyle were actually a couple yet, but by the lack of name calling I was pretty sure that he hadn't been aware. I was proven wrong when Stan and Kyle shared a short yet sweet kiss and Eric simply rolled his eyes, muttered something under his breath, and turned to look back at Wendy Testaburger who had just passed their table.

As far as I know, Kenny doesn't have a crush on anyone. When most people develop a crush on someone, they tend to look at all of their different types of competition and start to wonder who said person likes. In fact, they get so tied up in things that they sometimes make-believe that they saw their crush looking at another girl or guy and start to hypothesize that they're crushing on whoever they spared a glance to.

This hasn't happened to me. I haven't found a single person of whom Kenny might have a serious crush on. When you like a guy who naturally flirts with every last person he sets his eyes on, it's definitely not an easy task to decipher who he's seriously trying to get in bed and who he's simply joking around with. Every person who walks by, girl or boy, his eyes linger on their butt. It's always brief, and I doubt even he's aware he does it anymore, but it's there and I see it perfectly clearly. I can't help but wonder if he's ever done such a thing to me..

With that thought in mind, I grab my now empty tray of food and get to my feet. It was only after I walked by that I realized I couldn't just snap around and see if he was looking at me or not. I hung my head low and went to put my tray with the others, feeling completely and utterly stupid. As I turned back around to head to where I had previously sat at, my ears caught the voice of love.

"But when I went out there no one was there," said Kenny with a slight shrug. I slowed down my pace in order to hear exactly what it was they were saying. After all, I just knew it had something to do with me. "Just this big painting."

"Dude, your house got vandalized?" Kyle asked, sounding amused and shocked at the same time. I was nearing their table by this point and knew I'd have to pass by. Maybe I'd be able to hear them from my table if I strained my ears enough.

Laughing at the situation, Eric finished eating his Cheesy Poofs before responding. "Sucks to be you, McCorwhore! Having ugly art on the side of your shed!"

"It's not art, remember?" Kyle rolled his eyes.

Being unable to help a small chuckle, Stan asked, "Are you ever going to let that go?"

I passed by their table and noticed Kenny sparing me a glance, causing for me to mentally cheer in victory. I couldn't help but smile to myself, only to have that smile disappear immediately after hearing what Eric said next. "We should catch this guy and threaten him for all he's got!"

"Hell, I'd like to know who it is," agreed Stan.

"It's been years since this shit has officially started. If he hasn't been caught by now, what makes you think we can do it?" Kyle pointed out.

"The only reason this bastard hasn't been caught yet is because the cops don't give a flying fuck," Eric rolled his eyes. "But we do. We can turn him in and maybe get a reward! Or threaten to turn him in and then take all his money."

"I'm down," Kenny agreed.

Kyle seemed skeptical about the entire idea before giving in and nodding his head along with everyone else. "All right, let's find out who it is then."

Uh-oh.