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Kyle put down his food tray on the table, staring at the wall in front of him, for the lack of something better to look at. He could feel the irritation sweeping through his body, through his blood. Was it normal to be this angry during lunchtime? Was this a sensation he was going to have to deal with for the rest of his school life?
“No, seriously, Kyle,” Cartman sat right in front of him. “How does your dad feel about having married the biggest bitch in the town?”
“Come on, dude.” Stan intervened, in a tired voice.
“What? It’s a genuine question.”
“Just knock it off.”
“Yeah, I bet Kyle’s mom knocks everything everywhere she goes with how FAT she is.”
Kyle squeezed his juice box without even realizing. He felt Stan’s stare on him.
“Aye, what the fuck? Why did Butters get extra fries? When I asked, the lady told me there was none left.” He stood up, talking to no one in particular. “I’m gonna get that bitch fired!” Immediately, his fat ass ran to the cafeteria counter.
“Are you okay, dude?” Stan asked.
Normally, Kyle would try to reassure his friend. Today, though, today he wasn’t in the mood. “Why do we hang out with that asshole?”
Stan seemed surprised. “Why? I mean…he’s always been there.” He shrugged.
“Yeah, but why do we still do it?” Kyle insisted. “It’s not like any of us really like him.” He looked over to Kenny, who was sitting next to Stan. “Right Kenny?”
Kenny gave a muffled “Oh, yeah” and then went back to eating.
“See?” Kyle said. “We should ditch him.”
“But it’s not like we can really avoid him.” Stan countered. “Like, he is going to come back one way or another.”
“Not if we don’t fucking want to!” Kyle exclaimed and some heads turned to him. He washed away the embarrassment by grabbing Stan by the shoulders. “Look, Stan, maybe in kindergarten it was fine. But we’re in elementary school now. We can choose our own friends. We don’t have to force ourselves to tolerate Cartman for the rest of our lives.“
Stan was unconvinced. “But you know how he gets…”
A montage of all the times they had attempted to dump Cartman, only for the fat fuck to somehow weasel his way back into their lives flashed through Kyle’s eyes. He always managed, be it via manipulation, blackmail, or worse. “Urgh.” He deflated in his seat. “I guess.”
“We just gotta deal with it.” Stan said. “I really don’t know why he’s messing with you so much lately though.”
“Yeah.” Kyle rolled his eyes. Cartman had always been annoying, especially to him, but lately it was unbearable. Every second they spent together was an opportunity for the asshole to berate him, his appearance, his family, his people…
It was like a test of patience for Kyle, and he wasn’t sure he had a lot of it left.
–
After lunch, they had math, and of course Cartman spent the whole time throwing crumpled paper balls at Kyle, only to look away nonchalantly when Kyle turned around in anger.
“Kyle, is there anything interesting in the back?” Mr Garrison asked.
“No, sorry.” He quickly apologized as he returned his attention to the board. Behind him, he could hear Cartman’s audible snicker.
In gym class, Cartman used every opportunity where he had the ball to aim it to Kyle’s face, actually succeeding a couple of times.
“God damn it, Cartman!” Kyle yelled at him, because not only was he being annoying, he was also making their team lose.
“Nye nye nye nye nye nye, ha ha ha ha ha ha!” Cartman danced stupidly. “Kyle is getting red, ha ha ha ha ha ha!”
When school was over, Stan suggested they’d all go to his house to play video games. And, of course, Cartman spent the entire time making fun of Kyle’s gaming skills and laughing whenever he got shot.
By the time Kyle was home, he just wanted to be locked in his room with his anger. And there he was, screaming and punching his pillow with frustration, when it dawned on him.
Maybe the reason Cartman was so out of control lately, is because no one was teaching him limits. He was so used to doing everything he wanted whenever he wanted, and no one was stopping him, so now he was going above and beyond. Because his mother had always been so lenient with him, and most teachers gave up with him, he now had too much power.
And someone had to put him in his place.
Kyle looked at himself in the mirror, he had always been Cartman’s favorite victim, after all. And all this time, he had responded to Cartman’s behavior in kind, getting angry and arguing with him instead of acting maturely. Perhaps he was the one that could teach Cartman how to behave. Who knows, maybe he could even help him become a better person? They were still kids, in the end. Cartman wasn’t still a lost cause, just a misguided child.
With a newfound purpose, Kyle went to bed determined and kind of hopeful, even.
–
The next day, when going to the bus stop, Kyle decided he’d try a different approach. He was feeling weirdly ecstatic when he saw his friends by the distance, now that he knew what to do.
“Hey, Kyle.” Stan greeted him.
“Hi, Kyle.” Kenny joined, muffled as ever.
“Hey, Jew.” Cartman said.
“Hey, guys!” Kyle greeted them back with a smile.
Cartman raised an eyebrow. “What are you smiling about? Did the sand finally stop coming out of your vagina?”
Kyle sighed, filled with patience. “Cartman, I know you think you’re being funny, but when you insult me, it’s actually hurtful and it makes me mad at you. So I’d like you to stop.” He smiled, feeling good with himself and his communication skills.
Upon hearing the words, Cartman’s eyes widened. “You want me…to stop…?”
Glad that they were understanding each other, Kyle nodded. “Yes.” Stan and Kenny were quiet spectators to their exchange.
“Wow…” Cartman looked down in shame. “That’s…” His mouth closed, as if he was in deep thought.
“It’s okay.” Kyle patted his shoulder reassuringly. His goal wasn’t to upset him, either. “If you understand, that’s-”
Suddenly, Cartman began cackling boisterously, startling Kyle. “You want me to sto-” He doubled up with laughter. “You want-” He wiped the tears off his eyes and looked at Kyle. “Because it hurts your feelings, Kyle? Really?” Another laughter erupted in his throat. “Oh, man,” Cartman attempted to calm down. “My sides hurt, holy shit. Damn.”
Frowning, Kyle pointed at him. “You can laugh all you want, Cartman, but I know that deep down, you understand-” Before he finished his sentence, the bus pulled over and Cartman stopped listening to him.
“I gotta tell everyone about this!” He announced and ran into the bus.
“What?” Kyle said before following him into the bus. “Cartman, wait!”
–
“And then he was like,” Cartman made a pathetic, high-pitched voice. “‘Oh, Eric, won’t you stop being mean to me? It makes me sad, boohoo!’” The surrounding boys laughed. They were in the classroom.
Kyle stood up, enraged. “That’s not what I said, and you know it, Cartman!”
“Oh, yeah?” Cartman turned to him, smug. “So, what did you say, Kyle? Tell us.”
“I said…” Kyle was ready to explain, but seeing the curious stares of his classmates made him hesitant. Stan shook his head at him. “Aghh!” He growled in frustration and sunk back into his seat.
“So, like I was saying…”
He was definitely off to a great day.
–
“You have to admit, dude, what you did was kind of gay.” Stan said before throwing the ball back at him.
“Gay?” Kyle caught the ball. “How is that gay? I asked him to stop nicely!” He threw the ball back.
Stan caught it. “Yeah, but it’s Cartman, dude. He’ll use anything to make fun of you.”
Kyle had to jump a little to catch the ball this time. “And you’re fine with being friends with someone you can’t be honest with?”
“You need to stop thinking about it.” Stan said, as he considered where to throw the ball next. “Focus on something else.” He aimed for the spot right above Kyle’s head.
It was effortless catching it this time. “What do you mean?”
Stan put his arms down. “When something pisses me off, I write songs about it. Like Shelly or homework. They’re shitty songs, but it helps me feel better, you know? Something like that.”
Flabbergasted, Kyle looked at the ball between his hands. “Something that makes me feel better…?”
“Yeah. Now pass me the ball.”
“Oh, right.” Kyle threw it back. When Stan returned it and it bounced against Kyle’s palms, he couldn’t help thinking that it was the exact shade of red as Cartman’s jacket. Round and…
“Kyle?”
“Sorry.” He apologized as he launched it at his friend. His line of thought was momentarily interrupted until he saw the ball flying back into his arms. They had played with these balls for years now probably and it had now occurred to him that it was incredibly bouncy and resistant. Kyle held onto it tightly for an instant before throwing it.
They continued playing in silence, and with each throw, Kyle became more and more conscious of the parallel brewing inside his head. And no, it wasn’t annoying at all, it was weirdly relieving. To throw this ball with as much aggression as he wanted and imagine it was something else crashing into the snow. Somebody, even. He gripped it with such force that if it was alive, it would hurt the ball. But it wasn’t, so he could do whatever he wanted with-
“Kyle!” Stan shouted, awaking him from his reverie. “You almost hit my face, dude!”
“I-I did?” Kyle asked, unsure when that had happened. He was just having fun throwing the ball violently and…He shook his head. “I mean, sorry! I was distracted.” The bell indicating the end or recess rang.
Stan shook his head at him, the ball under his arm. “Come on.”
As he watched his friend walk away, Kyle wondered if he had interpreted Stan’s advice correctly.
–
After his little ‘relaxation’ session, Kyle found it was way easier to tolerate Cartman’s mumbling and teasing during class. He couldn’t believe it had been this easy all along. The image of the red ball being slapped around in the air soothed his nerves whenever Cartman tried to catch his attention.
It could only last so much, though.
“Here comes, Mr. Feelings.” Cartman announced when Kyle sat at the table with his food tray.
“Will you shut up already?” Kyle rolled his eyes.
“Or what,” Cartman grinned challengingly. “You’re gonna cry because it hurts you?”
Kyle stared at him dead in the eye. “No, I’ll just ask you to stop.”
“And if I won’t?”
Sinking the straw into his juicebox, Kyle replied. “Then we’ll stop hanging with you.”
Cartman snorted in disbelief. “No, you wouldn’t.”
“Yes, we would.” Kyle turned to Stan and Kenny. “Right, guys?”
Stan’s eyes went from looking at Kyle to Cartman, undecided. “Uh….”
“Stan?” Kyle called his name with urgency.
“Uh…”
“Kenny?” He resorted to his last friend.
Unbothered, Kenny mumbled something about not wanting to be involved and kept eating.
“I can see you planned this well, Kyle.” Cartman commented sarcastically.
“Shut up!” Kyle glared at him before giving his best friend a pressuring stare. “Stan?”
“He’s right.” Stan shrugged at Kenny. “This isn’t my fight.” With that, he stood up and left, carrying his empty food tray with him. Kenny shortly followed. Kyle was flabbergasted by the lack of support.
“You were saying, Kyle?” Cartman commented with a smug tone.
“Do you think this is funny?” He asked, irate. “Do you think it’s funny that your friends can barely stand you? Do you think it’s something worth bragging about?”
“I think Stan and Kenny were pretty fine-”
“No one is going to give two fucks about you one day!” Kyle interrupted him, yelling. “You’re gonna be all alone, with no one to remember you, and it’s because you thought it was fucking funny to make fun of people’s feelings!” He stared at Cartman, his breathing agitated from anger.
And for a moment there, it seemed to have resonated with Cartman, as the smile faded from his face and his expression turned sour for a moment. It almost made Kyle reconsider his words, maybe he had been too harsh, maybe he had gone too far.
However, before he had any time to take anything back, Cartman’s hands moved up, revealing an audio recorder. Stoically, he clicked on a button and Kyle heard his own distorted voice go “And it’s because you thought it was fucking funny to make fun of people’s feelings!”
“What the…”
“Nice fucking gay speech, Kyle!” Cartman roared with laughter. “Can’t wait to let everyone listen to it!”
“God damn it!” Kyle pushed his tray towards Cartman before abandoning the table angrily, still hearing Cartman’s laughter in his head even when had long left the cafeteria.
God, he fucking hated this guy.
–
For the class after that, Cartman sat next to him and Kyle found out the red ball trick wasn’t working anymore. Not when Cartman kept messing with Kyle’s stuff, like making his pencil disappear or moving the page when he was writing.
And no matter how many times Kyle turned to ask him what he wanted, Cartman just grinned and shrugged, like his teasing didn’t have any purpose at all. Or rather, its only purpose was to annoy Kyle.
And it sure was working. Kyle could hardly pay attention or listen, with Cartman being such a huge distraction. Mr. Garrison was throwing them glances as if it wasn’t enough. Eventually, the fat ass had the nerve to drop Kyle’s pencil case to the floor and that’s when he really had it.
“Quit it, Cartman!” He yelled, unable to contain himself.
“Kyle!” Mr. Garrison scolded him and Kyle mumbled an apology with gritted teeth. The class resumed without further ado but Kyle still felt the anger within. Why was he apologizing? Why was he the one being shamed? He hadn’t done anything wrong. He was not the one doing anything wrong.
He gave up on keeping up with the class, too distracted by his own wrath to let anything else in his head. Cartman seemed to read the room, because he stopped bothering. However, that didn’t calm Kyle. That didn’t ease him. It only angered him further. Oh, so now he understood how much of a pain in the ass he was? How rightfully pissed Kyle was at him? Now?
When the bell rang, Kyle bolted through the door, unable to sit another minute in the proximity of that fat fucking bitch. He couldn’t tell if Cartman calling his name was his imagination or not, but he decided to ignore it anyway, determined to leave as soon as possible.
“Kyle, if you keep ignoring me, I’m seriously going to play this tape on the school’s speakers!” Cartman shouted and Kyle knew that wasn’t his brain playing tricks with him anymore.
He stopped in his heels and slowly turned around. “What did you say?” Kyle asked in a low voice.
Satisfied, Cartman raised his audio recorder. “I’ll play what you said to me earlier if you keep ignoring me.” There was a small murmuring crowd forming around him.
Kyle squinted, giving steps in Cartman’s direction. “You what?”
Cartman rolled his eyes. “You heard me, Kyle.”
When he was in front of Cartman, he stopped and stretched his hand. “Give me that, Cartman.”
Grimacing, Cartman refused. “No way! Now I can get you to do what I want!”
“Give it to me.” Kyle said with gritted teeth.
Cartman began taunting him. “You’re gonna tell your fat bitch mom?” The crowd laughed and that only encouraged Cartman. “Nobody likes a snitch, Kyle!”
Feeling some kind of unfamiliar twitching at the tip of his fingers, Kyle stared at his hand. His fist was shaking now, he clenched it as memories flashed through his eyes. Garrison scolding him, kids laughing at him, Stan and Kenny refusing to side with him, the sole responsibility he had because no one else wanted to deal with this asshole, Cartman’s mockery, his own words…and finally, Stan telling him to focus on something else.
“Oh, no guys, it looks like he’s gonna cry!” Cartman pointed at Kyle while chortling stupidly.
Maybe the advice had been wrong from the start. Maybe he didn’t need to take it out on something else. Maybe he needed to take it out with the very same person pissing him off.
“Well, are you gonna say somethi-” Cartman’s sentence was interrupted by Kyle’s fist landing against his cheek with such force that he fell downwards.
Kyle saw it all in slow motion. Cartman’s bouncing as his body crashes against the concrete…His hand touching his bruised cheek, mouth opening wide to cry…The crowd gasping in surprise at the twist…People stepping back to give them space…His own fist trembling from the need to unleash.
But most importantly, the satisfaction inside him. And his need for more.
Kneeling as the world returned to its regular speed, Kyle grabbed Cartman from the collar of his jacket and started propelling punches. His father had once told him that violence wasn’t the way though that all seemed like a lie right now. Not when the sound of his fists impacting against Cartman’s flesh was such an incredible feeling. And definitely not when Cartman was cowering like he was, totally cornered and frightened, with no one to blame but his own actions.
As if echoing his thoughts, the crowd began cheering for him, some even calling his name and encouraging him. Cartman was mumbling incoherently amidst cries and Kyle knew it. He had finally found a solution.
Triumphant, he let out a smile.