At this point in time, Thanksgiving Break has just ended. I never thought in a million years that I'd say I was thankful to go back to school. Even though people think I'm a nerd who likes school, I really don't. The only reason I study and do everything on time is because I feel comfortable getting shit done. I still like breaks.

I just didn't like this one.

I drag my feet across the sidewalk, in no particular hurry to get to the bus stop. I have some time to kill, some time to stay in my own thoughts. Up until the point that I reach my best friend Stan. He catches my line of sight and I can't help but take in a breath. Because I know what he's gonna ask me.

"Morning Kyle," Stan greets me, and I can tell he's getting ready to prompt me. I feign a smile in spite of the conversation that I know is coming.

"Hey," I say, intentionally adding friendliness to my voice. There's a cold breeze in the air that makes me shove my hands into my pockets. Now I'm just waiting for the question.

After some hesitation he gets it out. "So, how'd meeting that girl go?"

We've had this conversation before. I always say the same thing. "She was okay."

Ever since my birthday my Mom's been playing matchmaker for me, introducing me to girls she thinks I'll like. Says now that I'm seventeen I should be interested in relationships; that it's healthy for guys to look at girls. And I wish I had the heart to tell her that I'm really not that interested in looking.

It's still pretty early and the other guys aren't here yet. For now it's just me and Stan. I watch him smile at me, playfully, but there's some concern in his eyes too.

"You gotta give one of them a chance sometime." Stan tells me. I sigh as I reluctantly meet his eyes.

"I know." I tell him. I keep it short because I really don't want the fuss anymore. I've had this conversation before. Kyle, your standards are too high. Kyle you're just giving up on her too soon. Kyle, don't you want a girlfriend?

It's not that I don't want a girlfriend. I do. It's not like I don't like people. I'm seventeen, so of course I've fallen in love before. It just doesn't work the way other people seem to get it to work. We have to... click. And I've told Stan this before.

At this point we're just repeating the conversation because there's nothing really new happening.

"I could ask Lesley to give you some numbers. Her friends are pretty cool." Stan decides to break the silence. I look at him worriedly, and he shrugs. "C'mon, maybe you just need a bigger pool to choose from. Bigger than... your Mom's taste in chicks."

I purse my lips. From Stan's reaction I can tell I'm pulling off this disapproving look pretty well. He seems to get the message. I release a soft sigh. "I don't wanna bother Lesley with that."

It's funny that Stan says that I have high standards. Lesley's been with Stan for 6 months and she's still impossible to please. After all the stress Stan puts himself through just to keep up with her, the last thing I wanna do is make Stan look like he's asking for favors from her.

Besides. I don't need a love life. I'm doing fine focusing on myself.

After a small neutral silence I start to hear something in the distance, a familiar voice sounding irritatingly happy. The sound of the snow crunching under his footsteps gets progressively louder, and I look up to see the other two of my friends approaching the bus stop. Our good friend Kenny, and.. Eric fucking Cartman.

When the fat brunet reaches his spot next to me he immediately meets my gaze with a contented smile on his face. "Oh, look who's all ready to go back to school," He chuckles. "Don't you ever get tired of being a nerd?"

"I'm not a nerd just because I wake up earlier than your lazy fat ass." I retort with a frown. "Besides you're the one walking to the bus stop singing. You happy to be back?"

After a short pause, Cartman scoffs. "I just have a good song in my head. I couldn't give any less of a shit about school."

I let out a defiant huff with a roll of my eyes. Despite my unamused demeanor his presence is actually comforting in a weird way. I haven't seen the fatass in 2 weeks - he left to stay with his extended family the whole break. And despite how much it makes my blood fucking boil, I'd take his sass any day of the week over having to endure any more girlfriend recommendations from my Mom.

As we're sitting at the bus stop Cartman's eager to fill the silence with mindless chatter, talking on and on about god knows what. I now vaguely remember that Kenny is standing next to him. Kenny, the silent blonde boy. Sometimes he does speak up but he has these random spans of time where he's practically mute and doesn't pay attention to us at all.

I kinda worry about him. He hangs out with Cartman a lot. I hope all Cartman's senseless talking hasn't made him brain dead.

The bus rolls up to our stop and the more I think about it the more I wonder about Cartman's demeanor. He was all singing and happy. That's exactly how he acts when he's up to something.

But it's a little odd this time. Whenever he's got a plan he can't shut up about it. He usually tries to incorporate the three of us into it. But nothing this time. Weird. Then again, he hasn't done anything big since middle school. So maybe he does just... have a tune in his head.

It's safer to tell myself that anyway. If I think too much about it, the curiosity's gonna torment me.

On the bus Cartman takes a seat next to Butters, Kenny next to Craig. I'm asked by Stan to sit somewhere else besides next to him, because he's inviting Lesley to sit next to him. So I find a seat somewhere else. Weirdly enough, it's next to Wendy.

I don't say anything to her. Despite us being decent friends, the fact that I'm sitting next to her because Stan wanted to sit next to Lesley kind of lodges this giant wall of awkward between me and Stan's ex girlfriend. But she gives me this small knowing smile, and I greet her with one too.

It really seemed like just last year Stan was holding Wendy's hand and writing her corny songs. But it's actually been a couple years since those days. It's just one of the little things that's actually managed to change.

That's how it seems to work.. in my life at least. If change happens, it's little by little. It's like a car on autopilot. It doesn't take any sharp turns, but doesn't stay completely straight either. Instead it just slowly veers to the left, inch by inch, moving so slow that you can't even see it. Subtle motions indicating a change that you'd only notice if you were feeling for it. It's not until there's a very visible difference that you see the changes.

It's a car ride. And nobody's holding the wheel.

...

I go through my monday as normal, doing my best to block out this thought that's been hanging over my head; the thought that my mother will pester me about looking for a girl as soon as I get home. It's lunch time now, and I've taken precautions to avoid awkward silences with Stan and Kenny. Unfortunately my lack of a relationship since the 6th grade has been on both my parents' and my friends' minds. Now because I needed an excuse to avoid conversation, I end up in the bathroom.

There's not really a reason for me to be here but I lean over the sink and let the water run, idly rinsing my hands. There's another person in the stalls, but I pay him no mind. I'm still kind of in my own mind right now, not really observant of much. It seems like it's been that way the whole day so far.

As I'm sitting there with my hands under the sink, I stare at my reflection. I see a 5'7'', green eyed jewish teenage guy with red curly hair. And he looks troubled. I automatically change my expression, pursing my lips and forcing a blank one. I tilt my head in the mirror to sort of examine my looks. I'd say I'm pretty decent looking. Inviting. When I'm not frowning like this, at least. The guy next to me washes his hands too as I adjust myself, practicing a smile.

"Whoa, someone's got an ego."

Oh god. I do a double take and take a step away from the sink, finding Cartman next to me with a judgemental grin on his face. My smile immediately drops and I shove my hands into my pockets. Jesus, he caught me looking in the mirror and now he thinks I was checking myself out.

"Ego my ass - I was making sure my face was clear." I say in defense. It's better than telling him I was worried about looking too worried. As he shuts off the sink, he meets my eyes. He's got this observant look on his face, I notice.

"Oh I see," He chuckles, "Gotta look good for the ladies, right?" He gives me this look that is sort of accusatory, as if he's trying to imply something right now.

"Fuck off," I growl dismissively, turning away to start yanking paper towels out of the dispenser. I know he hasn't left yet, but I'm still waiting for him to do so. But hell, my luck is never that fucking good.

He always sticks around. Sticks around and just makes fucking small talk with me. Except it isn't small talk at all. Because when he does this, he speaks a lot more through implication and body language than he does with actual fucking words.

"What's that like, anyway? Just being hand delivered possible dates from your parents?" Cartman asks, leaning against the sink. I'm trying to read his tone right now, but it seems more playful than anything else. As if he's curious and also entertained... like it was a proposition.

"It's not as great as you think it is." I say, furrowing my eyebrows.

"I didn't say I thought it was." He says as a matter of factly.

...It's obvious he's asking me to answer it objectively. Even though I know he's implying something. I know he doesn't actually care about my answer. But fine.

"It's annoying." I grumble, drying my hands off and tossing the paper towel into the garbage bin. "There's nothing worse than that pressure. They're just sitting there throwing girls at me until one sticks! Why do they think I'd want to deal with that?"

My gaze goes to Cartman but I can't read the expression on his face. He's just listening, devoid of reaction. I sigh.

"The worst part is when they actually like me. It's so fucking annoying to shake off a girl who wants to be with you without looking like an asshole. It's like you're an ass if you do respond and you're an ass if you don't. It's such a shitty position to be in." Fuck, I can't believe I'm actually venting to him about this. It feels so natural with Stan, but with Cartman? There's nothing more foreign. But in a way it feels better to release it, because he doesn't give a shit whether or not I end up with a girl. He's not "worried" about me.

I'm taken a little out of my thoughts when I hear him snicker at me. "Wow, you are such a douche."

That snicker was enough to piss me off, but then to say that. This prick. "How the hell am I a douche?" I demand, raising my voice in a slight growl.

"Because, douche, your biggest fuckin problem is that people like you."

I roll my eyes. "Oh god. Please."

"Oh no! Somebody likes me and I don't like them back! How uncomfortable for me!" He mocks me in a high voice.

"Fuck you! It's fucking bullshit if you actually care about people's feelings!" I insist, annoyed at his shitty mockery of me.

"Oh yeah. It must be sooo hard to deal with people liking you." Cartman says in the most overly sarcastic tone I've ever heard. "That's such bullshit, Kahl."

"Just because you wanna be liked by someone so badly doesn't mean it doesn't suck for me!" Fuck, I worded that poorly, but fuck it, I'm mad and it's Cartman. We say shit like this all the time.

The way he glowers at me tells me I struck a nerve. Though I don't really like doing that with anyone, he deserved it so I'm finding it hard to care.

"I bet you're just pissed because you don't want to pay for dates, aren't you, you rich ungrateful jew?!"

"Oh shut up! You can't even pull that card anymore! Buck probably gives you like 200 dollars for your allowance!" I shoot back at him. He knows that's true. Last year Cartman's mom married Buck Reynolds, a well off engineer. And I know damn well that Cartman probably uses the shit out of that income for whatever he wants. "How are you gonna call me ungrateful?! Your Mom just got back on her feet and you didn't even show up to her wedding!"

Me and Cartman have known each other for years. We've argued over anything and everything. And we aren't exactly afraid to hit low. But this made Cartman react so differently, to anything else I've ever said. I can't exactly say how, because it only happened for a glimpse. But I definitely saw something flash in his eyes.

He makes an agitated growl before closing the distance between us, his shoulders tight and fists clenched. He's obviously pissed, but it's not like he's gonna anything except try to intimidate me. He doesn't stop moving. Gets right up in my face, and I can feel all the blood rushing hot through my veins.

I stagger backward, almost tripping over my feet. He shouts a retort at me, but I don't really make out the words. I just hear it. But more importantly, how is he towering over me like that?!

...Shit... I didn't really notice till now... he hit a growth spurt, didn't he? What the fuck, two weeks ago he was the same height as me and now...

...Now, I have my back against the bathroom wall, and Cartman's silent. In fact, he looks a little surprised. ...Wait... I just... no. Tell me I didn't just back away from him. ... Shit.

I've always made a point to not back away, to give Cartman's intimidation right back to him. But I gave him ground just now. Shit. Shit. I didn't stand my ground - and Cartman definitely noticed that. Why the fuck else would he suddenly stop the argument?

I have to say something. It won't be so weird if I say something right now. ... What the fuck do I say? I was just very obviously startled by his change in height and now I look like a fucking idiot! How do you recover from something like that?!

The heat of embarrassment is threatening to redden my face, and I'm not about to let it. I make a point of glaring at him, crossing my arms. I'm insistent on making eye contact now. Because I'm not intimidated by him.

"It wasn't any of your business in the first place." I tell him sternly, before starting to walk out. My eyes don't leave him as I pass by him. And I make sure to not seem like I'm rushing out.

But by the time I'm out of the bathroom I sigh in relief. And I couldn't have been out sooner. Jesus christ. How fucking embarrassing, to be caught off guard like that... And for him to think he actually legitimately scared me. Fuck no. It's just alarming to see that drastic of a change. Like, my forehead only reached the height of his nose. Of course that difference in height is gonna make me think, what? When did that happen?!

... But of course he's not gonna see it that way. That son of a bitch.. He's definitely gonna use that to make my life harder from now on. ...

That's just fucking great.