Trying Too Hard [Bunny Love Story]

►Chapter Seven◄

Time is something I often find myself annoyed with, due purely to the fact that I let it annoy me. After all, you control your own emotions and nothing can get to you unless you let it. Some people try and seem wise or cool by stating what they heard in songs or movies, hence the saying; "You're the only one standing in your way." Well, whoever says that is one hundred percent right. So, as I stare at the clock, I allowed myself to become slightly irritated. Because time, to me, always seems like it's never on anyone's side. When you're having fun, or with someone you absolutely love and adore, it goes by a lot faster than you want it to. Or at least, it sure as heck seemed like it. But when you actually wanted it to hurry up and pass it takes forever and a day. Figuratively speaking, of course.

It was only half past ten. I've been trying to occupy myself by playing single player card games or watching a movie on my laptop, but my eyes always trailed back to the digital Hello Kitty clock on my nightstand. Every time I glanced at it, not even a minute would pass. The feeling wasn't a pleasant one for me, and I found myself continuously sighing. At around nine, my parents came in to say good night and told me to go to sleep or else I'd be grounded, so I had to turn off the lights and set aside my computer as I pretended to sleep.

However, it wasn't long before my pretending turned into reality. The next time my eyes fluttered open it was nearly one in the morning, a whole hour after I said I'd meet up with Kenny. "Son of a biscuit!" I grumbled, falling off my bed in a frenzy to get up. After having smacked my body against the floor, I got to my feet despite the slight sting shooting through my side. "He's gonna be real steamed!" I whispered to myself as I grabbed my phone and pulled on my shoes. I was still in my pajamas, and no doubt looked incredibly odd, but I simply covered up the MTV logo on my t-shirt with a hoodie and rushed out the door with my fuzzy Cookie Monster pajama bottoms.

Jumping over obstacles like a sleeping homeless man and turning sharp, dark corners, I eventually made it to the school. I had to use my knees for support once I was in front of the heart and panted heavily. Even after running for my identity I still wasn't fit enough for my lungs to breathe correctly and for my sides to not cramp up after a mile. Catching my breath took only a minute, and when I stood up straight and saw no sign of Kenny I fell to the ground and sighed.

He totally hates me now!

Instead of going back home, I took the time to stare at the heart. I had done this that morning in the daylight where I could actually see all the details and honestly I wasn't proud of it at all. Maybe if I poured more of my passion into it, I would have done better. But I can't even compare it to the original sketch, as it was now in possession of Kenny McCormick himself! I didn't even get the chance to draw out my last image to complete what I was trying to say with this graffiti.

"Aw man," I sighed as I fell to my back and closed my eyes. For a while, I just allowed myself to lay there in all of my woes. But then I felt someone poke my cheek and immediately snapped my eyes open. Human contact wasn't something I was very used to, especially at one or two in the morning. For a moment I found myself smiling, clinging onto the little hope I had that whoever poked my cheek just had to be Kenny. But it fell immediately when I saw Kyle and Stan above me. "Oh, uh, hi-a fellas!" I greeted, getting to my feet awkwardly.

"Butters?" asked Kyle. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, uh, Kenny invited me to help you guys out in finding the-the graffiti artist," I tried to explain. "I was a little late and when I got here he must've up and left.."

Stan and Kyle exchanged a look that I couldn't really understand under the dull glow of the moonlight, but it wasn't long before they turned right back to me. "Kenny never said he was inviting someone," Kyle pointed out.

"Yeah, you sure you aren't here for other reasons?" Stan asked. Confused, I gave them a weird look.

"You know, like vandalizing a different part of the school," Kyle elaborated.

Feeling my face heat up, I quickly shook my head in defense. "N-no way! I really was just here to see Ken!" They stared at me for a good thirty seconds or so before shrugging to themselves.

"Well, he went looking around in that area," said Kyle, pointing in the opposite direction of the school. "Good luck finding him."

"Thanks," I responded with a small smile before turning around and fast walking out of there. Once I was sure they couldn't here me, I let out a huge sigh of relief and kept on going.

Everything about this night really bums me out. The last thing I was expecting was to sleep past the time him and I were to meet up. All the things that could have been, how we could have had many romantic moments and maybe even gone a little further.. What if he wanted to confess his undying love for me tonight? Now it'll never happen because he thinks I've rejected him!

I love you so much Kenny.

After having thought to myself for a long while I decided that I couldn't just give up and go home. I had to find him and apologize for not showing up at the given time. So, feeling a new sense of determination and hope, I started my search no matter how long it would take.

I didn't get far. My foot unexpectedly hit against something, sending that object to fly forward a bit just as I lost my balance. When my face greeted the floor, I turned my head and groaned out in pain only to see what I had kicked. It was my sketchbook.

What the peaches was it doing all the way out here?!

Deciding not to question it too much, I scrambled to a sitting position and picked it up. The first thing I did was flip through the pages to make sure everything was how I had left it. When it was all fine and dandy, I hugged it to my chest and grinned. I had missed it so much I couldn't help but cuddle it for a moment.

Then I got up, sketchbook by my side, and continued my search for Kenneth McCormick.