unreadable // south park - firkle x ike

Prologue

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     I call his name until my throat is hoarse.

     "Firkle?"

     I stretch out the syllables in his name. There's something I have to give him. When I finally spot him, relief washes over my body. He's underneath the playset, the part that only he would think to go during recess, although, I don't think anyone else would be able to fit, anyway, seeing as he's the tiniest kid in our class.

     Before rushing over to him, I stop, and simply look. He looks calm, despite the loud kids trampling the platform right above his head. The spot itself looks calm, too. Calm and one of the only parts of the playground that's not covered in snow. Only he would choose such a spot, despite its genius placement.

     I smile to myself. Firkle could choose where houses would be built with his obvious ability to choose a nice place to read, if he wanted to. Though, I guess the majority of his sites would be secluded from most others.

     It's funny that he seems to know the perfect place to avoid people in a place full of people, yet he doesn't seem to realize that he's my best friend.

     As soon as I snap out of my thoughts, I am once again presented with reality. I begin to walk towards the same playset that he's underneath, but only after a few unsure steps, Mr. Garrison blows the whistle.

     "Alright, children," he calls out. "Recess is over."

     Kids race over Firkle's head to get to the pavement first, so they can be the line leader, of course. Firkle, on the other hand, takes his sweet time, I notice. He walks while continuing to read his book--a book larger than some kids in Kyle's class would ever even dream of reading.

...

     Without even knocking, Kyle busts into my room. I look up from my coloring book. He looks like he's going to say something, but I guess his train of thought is thrown off by something in the corner of his eye.

     He shakes his head, picks it up, and inspects it. His eyes go from it, to me, back to it, then back to me. "Ike, what the hell is this?"

     Looking back down and continuing to color in a truck, I shrug. "Pinecone on a stick."

     "Well, yeah, I got that much, but..." Kyle pauses. "Why?"

     Instead of answering, I shake my head. It's none of his business anyway.

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