Elysian Fields (A Kyman Fanfiction)

Chapter 25: Tirer des traits (Draw Lines)

                   
"Out!" screams the burly manager, as Stan drags me by my shirt collar while I flail my arms in front of me. Outside it's cold and icy, and I lose my footing plenty of times between the slush and hangover, but Stan never let's go.

"Calm down dude," he sneers into my ear.

"You can't fucking tell me to calm down," I reply. The rest of our party joins us, looking very peeved and confused. They knew it was coming, don't kid yourselves. It was years in the making. Finally, last out the door is Cartman, tucking his wallet back into his jeans pocket. Stan loosens his grip on me for a millisecond, but that's enough for me to break free. I launch myself at Cartman but this time it's Butters stepping in the way, holding me back. I scream past the blonde's broad shoulders as he shoves me farther away from the source of my eternal rage.

"Why the fuck are you doing this to me? How many years has this gone on??"

"What's going on?" Craig asks with mild amusement. Stan shoots him a look, letting him know to mind his own business.

"You are such a fucking asshole. You're sick! In fact everyone's lives would be so much better without you! God! My life would just be so much easier if you just disappeared!!"

"Is that really what you want?" Cartman asks quietly, his eyes cold and distant despite me screaming inches from his stupid face.

"Yes!" I exclaim. "Yes! Just get the fuck out! What, did you think I actually enjoyed your company? That we've been friends? No! Just get the fuck out! Because of you--" I jab my finger into his chest, but it's quickly grabbed by Stan. "I've been humiliated, degraded, and shit on through every memory! My literal earliest memories are of you shitting on me!! So just do everyone a favor and get out!! I can't even fucking stand to look at you anymore, you're fucking pathetic! It's no wonder your fucking mom left!!"

I didn't mean to say it but it all came spilling out at once. I expect a punch. Or maybe a threatening glance, or for him to whip out his knife and cut me all up again just to taste it. But instead I get nothing.

"Alright, Kahl." He states, almost defeated, and just walks off. I pant in Butters' grasp, my heart beating erratically, while the rest just stare at me.

"Well thanks for ruining lunch, asshole," Craig says, flipping me off. So I shove him instead, Tweek attempts to push me back but I don't care, and just wander back toward Stan's car. Once safely out of sight, I lean against his dark van and monitor my breathing. In and out. In and out.

/\/\/\

Luckily the next week was only two days of school, followed by Thanksgiving break. I didn't see Cartman anywhere but it was for the best. I didn't want to see him anyway. Maybe he finally got the message. I spent lunch with Stan, and once with Pete, apologizing for missing each other at Token's between a shared clove. And now it was time for the stupidest show of a holiday: the Thanksgiving dinner.

"What are you grateful for, honey?" Mom asks Dad.

"I am grateful that I have a son that is amazing at sports. He seems to have really found his calling and I'm glad he accepts us as his family, even if he now has a relationship with his biological family. Which I am also grateful for—that they are lovely people. I am grateful there is so much love in this family for each other, and for God," he nods. Ike beams and I say nothing.

I text Pete under the table as quickly as I can before anyone can notice:

You were right. This holiday is bullshit conformist.

Mom continues, "I am thankful that we all could be together for this meal. And that Kyle tries so hard at his studies, knowing how important a scholarship could be to his future." Thanks for the added pressure, Mom.