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1. How we got here
Kenny had overslept that morning--the morning that just so happened to be the first day of school. She was in a rush, so she ended up throwing on a large, orange parka that she had stolen from her dad’s closet one cold night when her parents had failed to pay the heating bill. She was trying to avoid talking to everyone, so she pulled the hood’s strings taut, covering every part of her face except her eyes, and she hid in a cluttered corner of the room.
How was she supposed to know this was the perfect disguise that would get her into the most infamous group of boys in the fourth grade?
“Psst. Hey, you,” a voice called out. She looked up, searching around for the source. “Over here, dude! Yeah, I’m talking to you, idiot!”
It was a little boy in a blue hat with a red poof ball, and he was frantically waving her over to his table of two other boys. She pointed to herself, and he nodded furiously, looking between her and something on the other side of the room. “Come on! We have an empty desk!”
She stood up hopefully, but she kept her hood tight. She wasn’t ready to face the world in its entirety yet, so if they were okay enough with it to let her sit at their table, then they wouldn’t mind it for a little while longer. “Thanks,” she mumbled, voice muffled and hard to understand through the fabric.
“Whatever, we don’t give a shit about you,” a fat kid next to her scoffed rudely. “We just don’t wanna have to deal with Butters all year. Mr. Garrison never lets us change seats.”
“Oh.”
“Don’t be rude, fatass,” the one in the green hat hisses. “Hey, man. I’m Kyle. Welcome to the table.” He gave a sympathetic smile and held out a fist. Kenny bumped it and returned the smile, but Kyle probably didn’t notice it.
“Oh, yeah. I’m Stan Marsh,” the boy in the poof ball hat says with a wave. “That tub of lard is Eric Cartman, but we call him Cartman. Or fatass for short.”
“Ey! I’m not fat, asshole! I’m big-boned!” Cartman stood up, knocking his chair to the floor. Before he could really do anything, though, the teacher stood at the front of the class and began the typical first-day speech.
“Eric, sit your ass down,” Mr. Garrison sighed. He tapped his clipboard once, another dramatic sigh falling from his lips. He doesn’t seem like he wants to be here. “Alright, class. We’re gonna start with roll call and then we’ll get to the house keeping and discussing the syllabus. I need to pass out papers, so Wendy Testaburger will be calling roll for me. Wendy?”
The aforementioned girl stood up, accepting the clipboard with a sense of pride and a grin on her face. She began calling the names.
“Ugh, not Wendy Testaburger,” Cartman groaned, dropping his face onto the desk. “First day of school and she’s already on a power trip.”
“I hate to say this, but I agree with Cartman,” Kyle says, rolling his eyes and resting his face on his hand. “Girls are the worst.”
Kenny perked up at this, suddenly very nervous to hear her name called. In between their conversation, the boys all took turns responding to their names being called.
“Hey! That’s my girlfriend, guys.” Stan glared, but it was weak. And his tone was more of a whine than anything. When the other two exchanged skeptical glances, he caved and agreed, “But girls are totally lame.”
The other two nodded, and suddenly the whole table was looking at Kenny. “Uhh, yeah. Girls…girls are the worst.” She awkwardly laughed.
They didn’t look like they believed her. She had to turn it up a notch.
“Yeah, they’re just such…bitches. Always complaining and-- and…y’know, uhh…they’re gross and have…have cooties!” she was resorting to complaints her younger sister had about the boys at her school. “And they think they’re sooo cool, but they’re really just…just pussies who don’t…know what…they’re talking…about.” Her words died out as she came near the end because the whole table was staring at her with varying expressions. She was caught. There’s no way that was convincing at all. Now, she’s gonna get beat up by a group of boys.
“Dude. You really hate girls,” Kyle muttered, eyes wide.
“Here!“ Stan said loudly in response to his name being called, but he just whispered, “Respect.”
“You must have been really fucking pent up, dude,” Carman says in awe. “Glad you could get that off your chest.”
Before Kenny could keep this lie going, she heard her name called.
“Kennedy McCormick,” Wendy called. Kenny’s eyes blew wide, and she ducked her head, not daring to respond. “No Kennedy McCormick?”
“Present,” she tried to say quietly, but the other three were too laser-focused on her and her ‘pent-up hatred’ toward her own gender not to notice. She cleared her throat and raised her hand, “I-- I’m here. I go by-- by Kenny.”
“Kenny, was it? Ah, okay!” Wendy smiled sweetly and marked her name.
“Kennedy? Isn’t that a girl’s name?” Stan asked, cocking his head to the side.
“Dude, no wonder you hate girls. People always mistake you for one, huh?” Kyle says with pure pity in his eyes like being mistaken for the wrong gender is the worst thing to happen to any nine-year-old. His eyes screamed you poor thing.
“Eh, I don’t see it.” Cartman shrugged. Kenny felt like she should be offended by that, but she was just glad that this group was oblivious enough not to notice that she hadn’t even shown her face yet.
“Um, yeah. My parents really wanted me to be a girl, so they named me Kennedy even though I’m a-- a boy.” It felt weird to say it directly, like she was fully admitting to the lie. “But I just tell people to call me Kenny.”
She does use the nickname, Kenny, but it definitely wasn’t for that reason. She just liked the name. It was typically a boy's name, but it felt like it balanced on the line between masculine and feminine so precariously that it played its own gender role. She just preferred it to her original name. Kennedy. It was clunky. ‘Kenny’ rolled off the tongue better.
It definitely wasn’t because she was trying to play some kind of gender-switch roleplay, yet here she was.
“That makes sense.” Stan nods. “It sounds like something my dad would’ve done.”
“Dude, your dad would do anything if he smoked enough weed.” Kyle rolled his eyes, and Cartman barked out a laugh. Stan just sighed in defeat.
“Look at that: the jew made an actually good joke!”
“Shut the hell up, fatass! You don’t even have a dad.” Kyle pointed a finger at the other boy, and they spiraled into a fight of words, hurling curses and slurs at each other. Kenny just shrunk into her seat.
What on Earth has she gotten herself into?
2. A simple correction (amateur move)
Surprisingly enough, Kenny enjoyed hanging out with Stan, Kyle, and Cartman.
Sure, they were pretty sexist at times and that wasn’t great, but that was only sometimes. Most of the time, they were funny, and since she blended in, she didn’t have to answer all those annoying questions about video games like “oh, yeah? You like Legend of Zelda? Then name all of the games in chronological order.” or “You like Mario? Name any game other than Mario Kart or Mario Party.” And when she would, she’d get told “that’s a basic game anyways. Anyone would know that one.”
She was a little frustrated about not being able to enjoy her hobbies, okay?
For the most part, though, the guys were chill. They had little games they played, and she got to insert herself in with her own characters. She had a lot of fun with them. So much fun, though, that she sometimes slips up on the whole disguise thing.
“Did you guys know that girls’ tits have expressions?” Cartman said one day while Stan and Kenny were playing Guitar Hero. That comment almost made Kenny lose immediately.
“No, they fucking don’t.” Kyle scowled, looking up from his book.
“Yuh-huh,” Cartman insisted. “Clyde showed me a book today that said when a lady is sad, her boobs get all saggy, but when she’s happy, they get…perky. Yeah, that’s the word he used.”
“No way,” Stan said skeptically, but the amazement in his eyes said otherwise. Kenny had figured this out about the boys. Stan wanted to follow Kyle, but he was so quick to believe any ridiculous information that Cartman would feed them.
“You don’t actually believe that boobs have feelings, do you Stan?” Kenny said, crossing her arms. “I can guarantee you that’s not true.”
“Oh, yeah? How so? Do you have titties, Kenny?” Cartman narrowed his eyes, and Kenny had to catch herself.
“I-- no, but I’ve seen ‘em!” she says quickly, a misleading tone of pride coating her words. Everyone looked at her. Shit. How does she always end up in this situation?
“How?” Kyle was the first to hesitantly break the silence.
“Pornos,” she forces out. “My dad has some VHS tapes, and they show both men and women naked, so I’ve seen naked ladies.”
The thing is, Kenny isn’t the purest of children. She’s dabbled in plenty of shit she’s not supposed to: smoking, drugs, alcohol, porn, even a little bit of masturbation. Anything to feel older or escape her awful household. But she has never been overly comfortable just talking about it with people. She always imagined it would be awkward, especially with boys considering, y’know?
Boys and girls like to fuck each other?
“Porn…os?” Stan tests the word like it’s a foreign language. She stares gobsmacked. She thought all guys watched that stuff! Her older brother has a whole collection of magazines that she takes from sometimes when she’s bored. How do they not know what it is?
“You’re making that up!” Cartman accuses. “That’s not a real thing.”
“Yeah they are! It’s when men and women do it on camera,” Kenny rushedly explained, her muffled words almost being lost in the orange fabric. But they all seemed to understand her somehow.
“Why would that even exist in the first place? It doesn’t make any sense,” Kyle muses to himself.
“I’ll bring one,” Kenny says quickly, “to prove it!”
And that’s how she found herself in Stan’s room with the door locked as the boys watched the mildest porn tape she could pick out. They turned off the lights like it was some kind of movie night and the three sat as close to the TV as they possibly could, practically entranced by the screen.
She covered her eyes and sat in the very back of the room, occasionally peeking out between her fingers at the three boys in front of her. She once caught her dad jerking off, and she never wanted to deal with that again so she spent most of the time just listening to their limited commentary as they stared in fascination at the screen.
“She’s really enjoying that?” Kyle asked, face illuminated by the light caused by the woman's pale skin. “That can’t be that fun.”
“It looks painful. And why does the space in between her legs look like-- oh, god! They got closer!.” Stan added, sounding grossed out a second later.
“I just-- why the…fuck is this even a thing?” Cartman mutters. “Why would people be proud of this?”
“I have the same question,” Kyle agreed, and Stan hummed, sounding on the verge of throwing up.
There was a long moment of silence. “Is anyone else’s weiner hard for some reason?”
Kenny just curled into a ball and died inside. Why did she have to put herself through this torture just to keep her identity a secret? Why did she care about this friendship so much? Oh, well. Maybe it’ll all be worth it in the end.
It’s worth it, right?
…right???
3. Locker Rooms (oh the horror)
Kenny had been friends with Stan, Kyle, and Cartman for two years now, and they all made it to middle school together. She hadn’t expected to make it this far in school (she had never attended school before fourth grade) so she felt pretty proud of herself that she was sitting in a middle school gym for her first day of sixth grade.
“Alright, class. As you know, in middle school, you are expected to change out of your normal clothes, and put on more athletic clothes,” the coach explained in a very bored tone. “You will be doing this in the boys and girls’ locker rooms.”
Most of the guys groaned. As Kenny had learned, the biggest fear of any boy was to be seen as gay. Cartman explained to her that gym was totally gay because, for the first ten minutes, you have to deal with other guys staring at your ass as you get changed. She thought he was lying.
“This is so weak,” Stan complained behind her. “Why can’t we just wear basketball shorts all day if we have to wear them for gym?”
“Who knows?” Kyle agreed, rocking back and forth on his crossed legs.
“Hey, at least we’ll finally see what’s under Kenny’s jacket, right?” Cartman said slyly, side-eyeing the girl in question. “You can’t hide forever, dude.”
She scoffed, hoping it would cover how scared she was becoming. “Please. You think it’s gonna be that easy?” She really didn’t want to get raped. Oh, god, please don’t let her get raped.
“You can’t change in the bathroom. It’s against the rules,” Kyle pointed out unhelpfully. “Just face it, bro. Besides, why do you wanna hide in that thing all day anyways? It’s gotta be hot in there.”
“I’ll find a way. I always have,” Kenny said to Cartman, pointedly ignoring Kyle’s question. She wasn’t sure of a good excuse, so she just chose not to acknowledge it. That’s not suspicious, right?
“Hey, you four! Got something you wanna share with the class?” The coach singled them all out, luckily at the end of their conversation. They all mumbled out half-assed responses and turned back around. “Alright. Everyone go to your respective locker rooms and pick out your lockers.”
Kenny jumped up as fast as she could, shoving past everyone to get in there as fast as possible and pick out a locker that the other four wouldn’t find. She successfully found one on the other side of the room behind a wall of lockers, and when they picked theirs out officially, she escaped and got changed.
Well, changed her shorts. She couldn’t take off the parka, obviously.
--
“I don’t get it! Where do you go?” Stan asked incredulously as they walked their laps around the gym. They had made it a week in, and the other three had yet to catch her. There were a couple of close calls, but nothing she hadn’t learned to handle. Or improv her way out of.
“Yeahhh,” Cartman drawled suspiciously. “At this point, I’m starting to think you have some kind of secret, Kenny.”
Shit.
“Guys, leave him alone. Maybe he doesn’t feel like changing in front of everyone,” Kyle defends, and Kenny breathes a sigh of relief. Kyle had been a lot more understanding, and she really appreciated that. “Why do you wanna watch him change so much, anyways, Cartman?”
“I-- I don’t want-- Fuck you! I’m not gay.” Cartmas was exasperated, which was more likely from walking for too long, but that didn’t stop him from speeding up anyway to get away from the others.
“Good fucking riddance,” Kyle sighs, bumping shoulders with Kenny. “I get it, dude. You’re self conscious. Nothing to worry about.”
Kenny blushed a little. She always liked Kyle the most. He was the most understanding and respected her boundaries the most. She could tell he was just as curious as the others, but he still didn’t push, and she appreciated that. Sometimes, it almost worried her. Maybe he already knew and that’s why he was always so nice to her?
She stared into his dark green eyes. His smile was genuine. There was no second intention behind that expression.
“Thank you,” she said, fiddling with the zipper of the jacket.
“Great. Now you two are being gay,” Stan groans, pushing them apart so he could walk in the middle. He pokes Kenny’s chest. “Don’t take my best friend away from me, bitch.”
“I dunno, man,” Kenny drawled, pushing her shoulders up to her ears. “You kinda sound like the gay one here.”
Stan just stuttered out a flustered response before settling on shoving a giggling Kenny to the ground, and Kyle also burst out laughing. That caused Stan to tackle Kenny even further, and they ended up getting written up for starting a fight. None of it was serious, and they were laughing through every stage.
“No hard feelings.” Stan grinned, a red bruise forming on his cheek. He held out a fist.
“Nah,” Kenny chuckled, lightly fist-bumping the other.
4. Return to womanhood (fuck Mother Nature)
Kenny wanted to scream. She was in so much pain. It felt like someone was grabbing her stomach (from inside her body!) and would not let go. Even worse, when she woke up, her pants and underwear were soaked with dark red blood.
After a frustratingly long Google search on her family’s old, cheap computer, she realized that she was on her period. Shit. And after rummaging through her parents’ bathroom, she couldn’t find any pads. Double shit.
After a moment of consideration, she came up with two ideas. Plan A: risk being late to school by running to a gas station and walking to school. Her parents were knocked out, so unless she wanted to unleash Hell for her sister, she couldn’t rely on them to get her to school. Plan B: reveal her secret to another girl at school so they’ll give her something and hold out until after school when she can tell her mother. Only problem with plan B? She’ll have to hold out without the guys asking her anything until she can get a hold of another girl that she trusts.
But her parents are assholes when they have to be woken up from their unemployed slumber.
She groans. Plan B it is. Why does she have to be the best parental figure in Karen’s life?
She gets dressed, practicing straining a straight face through the whole process. Was it gonna be this bad every single time? She really hopes not. She will just have to ask Wendy whenever she sees her at school.
She takes a deep breath as the bus stop approaches, watching the steam rise up and out of sight. Luckily, the guys won’t see her face. All she has to do is not press her legs together too much or crumple to the ground in writing pain. Should be easy, right?
God, she should have taken a fucking ibuprofen. Or just killed herself and not gone to school.
“There you are.” Cartman was the first to pipe up, and Kenny wanted to run into oncoming traffic. “What? Too poor for an alarm clock?”
“Shut the fuck up, Cartman,” Stan said, punching him in the shoulder. Cartman rubbed the injured spot, opening his mouth to argue before he was cut off. “The poor jokes aren’t funny anymore, remember?”
“They were never funny,” Kyle deadpanned at both of them before turning his attention back to Kenny. “You okay, dude? You seem…off.”
“Huh?” Great going, Kenny. You just got here and your cover’s already been blown, she thinks bitterly. Curse Kyle and his astute observational skills. “I-- um, I’m fine.” As if to spite her, she felt a shooting cramp within her body. It took everything in her not to scream a swear word. Instead, she gritted, “Just tired.”
“Okay,” Kyle says slowly and skeptically. Before he could pry, the bus conveniently pulled around the corner and up to the stop. Kenny lagged behind so the others could get on first.
She wasn’t out of the danger zone yet, though, because Kyle patted the seat next to him with an excited smile. Stan sat behind him with crossed arms and a mean glare trained on Kenny. She just avoided eye contact and reluctantly sat next to Kyle.
A beat of silence (well, as quiet as a middle school bus can be) passed before Kyle finally spoke up. “You know you can talk to me if something’s going on, right?”
“I-- yeah, I know,” she said quickly.
He noticed the hand she was pressing over her stomach. “Did you get to eat breakfast?”
“No. I never eat breakfast,” she said, and right on cue, her stomach gurgled. She grimaced.
“I have a cereal bar. You should eat something,” he said, already reaching into the front pocket of his backpack. “My mom always tells me to bring snacks in case I get hungry in class, or if my sugar gets low. Plus I know about your home life, so I don’t mind sharing.”
He offered her a chocolate chip and almond granola bar, along with a kind grin. It must’ve been contagious because Kenny couldn’t contain the smile that broke out from behind the hood as she accepted the food. She took small bites to avoid removing the hood, which Kyle laughed at.
“I do not understand you, dude,” he said, tilting his head to the side. Kenny found it adorable, but of course, she can’t say that. “Do you ever take that thing off?”
“Yeah, Kinney,” Cartman chided in that annoying way he does when he wants to piss her off. “Kyle really wants to make out with you. He told me one day.”
Kenny rolled her eyes, but Kyle shot up to give Cartman an uppercut. “Shut up, fatass!”
She scarfed down the rest of her breakfast while they were distracted.
--
As soon as they made it to school, Kenny rushed out of the bus to catch up with Wendy, who always sat at the front of the bus. Kyle and the others shouted out after her, but she just ignored them.
“First my best friend, now my girlfriend?” she heard Stan scoff. “What the fuck is his problem today?”
She grabbed a struggling Wendy by the arm and pulled her into the bathroom. She wasn’t able to say much before Wendy shouted and decked her in the face, causing her to fall against the wall. Great, now another part of her was bleeding!
“What the actual fuck is your problem?” Wendy screeched, winding back for another punch as she stood threateningly over Kenny, who threw her hands in front of her face.
“Wait, wait, wait! I’m sorry, please don’t hurt me!” she said quickly, loosening her hood and pulling it down off her head. “I’m another girl! I’m not gonna hurt you, I’m just…I have a bit of a problem.”
She braced for another hit, but nothing came. She peeked through her fingers to see Wendy, jaw dropped and eyes blown wide. “Y-you’re a- a girl? What are you doing with Stan, Kyle, and Cartman?”
“It’s a long story, dude,” she sighed, slumping against the wall. Wendy raised an eyebrow but held out a hand anyway. “Um…do you have any…pads?” She grimaced and looked at her feet. This was more embarrassing than she thought it would be.
“Yeah, I always carry them,” Wendy said casually, reaching into her purse and handing Kenny one. She turned it over in her hands. “You do know how to use it, right?”
“Yeah, I googled it this morning,” she explained, hoping she wouldn’t have to say the main point out loud. She went into the stall, but Wendy stuck around. “You’re not gonna tell anyone about this, right?”
“Not unless you want me to,” Wendy said. “When are you gonna tell anyone?”
“Never, I guess?” Kenny jokes but receives no laugh. “I don’t know. When they find out? You know how they are about girls. I dug myself a grave here and I’m not ready to accept my fate.”
“I feel that, sister,” Wendy laughed this time. “I suggest telling them sooner than later. The longer you lie to them the more shit you’re gonna face if they don’t accept you when they find out. That big ass jacket isn’t going to say big forever.”
Kenny nodded to herself before finishing up, flushing the toilet and washing her hands. Wendy pulled the hood down. “Y’know…you’re really pretty.” Kenny smiled, hiding it behind her hands as she dried them.
“Thanks.”
“If it’s anything, I think Kyle’d be into you,” Wendy smirked knowingly, and Kenny whipped her head around so fast. “Oh, come on. All your weird behavior just makes sense now. And after that scare you gave me, I think I deserve to make fun of you a little.”
She wrapped an arm around Kenny’s shoulder, and the blonde pulled her hood back over her head, tugging the drawstrings tight again. She couldn’t exactly argue with that, especially when they were walking right back into the hallway, where the other three were standing across from the girls’ bathroom.
Wendy dropped the niceties, spinning Kenny around and leaning in. “Sorry, hun. Gotta keep my relationship with Stan. You know the girl code, right?”
“Wha- ACH!” Kenny barely got a chance to register what she said before Wendy grabbed her shoulder and kneed her in the uterus. Her knees buckled, and she fell to the floor. At least her takedown didn’t look suspicious.
“And you fucking deserved it, perv!” Wendy said loudly, running over to Stan who hugged her and just stared in mild pity at Kenny’s crumpled, defeated form on the ground. They walked away, Stan’s conflicted expression flashing between his girlfriend and Kenny.
“Crazy bitch,” Kyle muttered, running over to help Kenny up.
“Nope,” she grunted out, clutching the general area of her lower regions. “I did deserve that. She was right.”
“Oh. Uhh…” Kyle rubbed the back of his neck, “...let's just get to class.”
During their third period, Wendy apologized for the display, offering Kenny some water and midol in exchange for forgiveness. Kenny took that offer and declared friendship from there.
+1. Never play truth or dare if you hiding your true gender under a large orange parka
“Hell, yeah! Cartman’s mom is the best,” Stan cheered, already taking note of all the snacks on the counter.
“Only the best snacks for my birthday sleepover, obviously,” Cartman said proudly, swatting Stan’s greedy hands away from the chips. “Not yet, Stan! And you guys call me a fatass.”
“At least I don’t risk the bus tipping over every morning 'cause I weigh a thousand pounds,” Stan grumbled, earning an ugly look from Cartman.
“I will make you eat your parents.”
“What?” Stan asked.
“Hm? Nothing.” Cartman smiled innocently. “I wanna do presents first!”
They all rolled their eyes, but it was his party, so they all shuffled into the living room and circled up as Liane brought in all the presents. They watched as he ripped away the paper and gave varied reactions to every gift, ranging from ‘aw sick!’ in a positive way to ‘aw sick!’ in a negative way. None of their vocabularies really extended from what they developed in 4th grade. Well, maybe with the exception of Kyle, who has a whole thesaurus app on his phone’s home screen.
Throughout the night, they played Just Dance, ate pizza and other junk food, cut cake, and did a plethora of basic sleepover activities. Cartman probably just googled ‘how to have sleepover’ and took the first article. Not that Kenny was complaining. When the others weren’t looking, she dumped snacks into Walmart bags that she packed in her duffle bag. The only person who caught her was Kyle, who pretended not to say anything.
Now, they made it to every person holding a deep dark secret’s least favorite game: Truth or Dare.
Kenny tried to protest, but it was three-against-one, and if she pushed too hard, then they would obviously realize something was up.
Cartman spun the bottle in the middle of the circle, and they watched it spin with bated breath. There have been 3 rounds so far. Cartman started the game off strong by daring Stan to kiss Kyle, and the two barely touched lips before turning the other direction and fake retching while Cartman and Kenny laughed their asses off. Stan asked Kyle if he liked it for his turn, which he very quickly denied. Cartman was dared to stop eating for the entire night because Kyle was tired of his gross smacking.
“Aw, hell yeah! Kenny, truth or dare?” Cartman asked excitedly, evil schemes already forming behind his eyes. Everyone directed their attention to Kenny, awaiting her answer.
“Uhh…truth,” she said, receiving a disappointed sigh from Stan and Kyle. Cartman’s grin never faltered.
“Why do you cover your face? You can’t lie!” he accused, pointing a fat finger at Kenny.
“Dare.” She changed her answer. She knew what the dare was gonna be, but she couldn’t come up with an elaborate lie that would get her out of this one.
“Fine. Take off the parka, Kenny,” Cartman said, tone threatening this time. Stan and Kyle exchanged looks before Stan smiled and started whispering take it off. Take it off. Take it off!
“Can I do something different? I really don’t want--”
“A dare’s a dare, McCormick,” Cartman said before starting to chant with Stan. She looked at Kyle with pleading eyes, but he avoided her with a guilty head turn. He was too curious to stand up for her. Great.
They started crawling toward her, and she inched back slowly. Too slowly, apparently, because Stan managed to grab her foot and pull her back. She shouted, flailing to try and stop the assault. Cartman gets over her, grabbing her wrists above her head. They are scarily efficient at this.
She’s starting to think this was the only reason they even chose to play Truth or Dare.
“You can’t fight fate, Kinney,” he grunted, struggling to hold her down. “A little help, Kyle?”
He faltered, but his expression hardened, and he swiftly got on top of her, pinning her wrists next to her head. He looked down at her fearful expression, but before he could apologize or question or comment, Cartman pulled the hood open and tucked the fabric under her head.
They all stopped laughing. Their smiles vanished. Kyle’s eyes widened, and he quickly stood up as if her body was made of hot lava that was burning him.
“Dude,” Stan muttered under his breath, wringing his hands together.
“You’re a fucking chick?! What the fuck?!” Cartman shouted, holding his hands up and slowly backing out of the room. He raced down the stairs to his living room, shouting about calling his mom.
Kenny sat up slowly, face burning with shame. “I-- I didn’t want you…to hate me.”
She looked up, making eye contact with Kyle before her eyes shot down to the floor again.
“I’m…gonna go see what Cartman’s up to,” Stan said, noticing the tension between them. Kyle must’ve sent him some kind of look because before Kenny could even think to protest, he was out the door.
“Why did you think we would hate you?” Kyle asked, sitting down in front of her with his legs crossed. She scoffed.
“What do you mean ‘why’? The first day I met you guys, all you talked about was how awful girls were,” she explained, pulling her hair out of the low ponytail it was previously in so she could hide behind her blonde hair. “It was my first day of school ever. The last thing I wanted was to get beat up by a group of boys for accidently infiltrating their group.”
“I-- well, I mean-- no, you have a point,” Kyle chuckles. “But that only applies to when we were ten. We’re all 16 now, so what gives? How come you never said anything?”
“I felt too deep into the lie. Maybe you wouldn’t hate me for being a girl, but now you’d hate me for lying for six years,” Kenny said, gaining enough courage to tuck the hair behind her shoulders and face Kyle. He looked at her so much differently now.
Maybe it was her own insecurities, or maybe he was just trying to appear as non-threatening as possible since he had just tackled a girl to the floor, but his expression was soft--as if she was some kind of delicate piece of glass. She hated it. She has built this whole persona of being another boy and being able to take anything they could, and now that the hood is off, all he can see is a fragile little girl. She thought he would be better than that, but apparently not.
Maybe it should be a positive thing that he's not quick to jump into anything after they assaulted her, but she wasn’t looking for logic. She was looking for normal.
“I’m sorry. I knew how you were about your jacket. I shouldn’t have gone along with those assholes,” he said, fidgeting with his fingers and looking into her eyes. She could feel it, but she refused to make eye contact with him. “There’s really no ‘but’s about it either. What we did was fucked up. If you’d like, you can put her parka back on. I can ask my mom to drive you home if your parents can’t get you.”
She stayed silent.
“Look, I understand that you’re probably angry at me, and that’s fine, but can you please at least say something?” Kyle pleaded, searching her face for some kind of sign.
“Truth or dare,” she mumbled.
“What?” he asked. If he managed to hear her, he was most likely bewildered by the question.
“Truth or dare,” she said louder after clearing her throat.
“I--uhh…why?”
“Answer the damn question.” She shot him a glare.
“Okay. Truth?”
“You have to be 100 percent honest,” she said, standing up and taking off her parka. Underneath, she had baggy jeans that she used to cover her hips, but a thin tank top to counteract the heat of summer. She dropped the jacket to the floor and tucked her hands into her pockets. “Now that you know I’m a girl, what do you think of me?”
A red tinge dusted Kyle’s cheeks. “I-- and you want complete honesty?”
“Mhm,” she hummed affirmatively.
“Well, I get to tell Stan that it turns out I’m not gay,” he laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck and standing up. “But if we’re being honest, I’ve known you for six years. Yeah, I’ve known you as a guy, but if anything--that just gave me a chance to be close with a girl without the instant prejudice that we had when we were 10. You’re chill, Kenny.”
Kenny thought about the answer. Well, she tried to focus on the actual part that would fit into their ‘y’know, I learned something today’ speech that they do at the end of every adventure, but all she could replay in her mind was that he liked her. Even before he knew she was a girl. Does that change his opinion of me now that I’m not a guy?
“Not exactly,” he answered, an amused grin on his face. She looked startled, not realizing she’d said that part out loud. “You’re a lot more expressive without the hood, and I always noticed that you whisper when you think. I could just never make it out through the hood.”
“Oh,” she said dumbly. “I’m sorry. I’ve just…liked you for a while and I…” oh, shit, why the fuck did she say that? Why would she admit that? What the fuck?! This guy literally just found out about your secret gender secret and you're telling him that you’ve had a crush this entire time? Talk about a damn pick-me, Jesus Christ--
Suddenly, a warm hug interrupted her very rude thoughts. “We’ll work through the confusion, and if the other two can’t accept you after a six year friendship, then thay can fuck off.”
“Yeah,” she chuckled into his shoulder. “Thank you. So much.”
“No need to thank me for human decency. So what if you have boobs? What is that supposed to change?”
“The blood flow of most guys, apparently.”
“Oh, my god.” Kyle dropped his head into her shoulder, laughing loudly. “Yeah, there’s nothing different about you. You’re still our same Kenny.”