Chapter Text
Stan wakes up to his alarm clock blaring with bright red letters shining the time, 7:15. As Stan slowly stirs from his slumber he makes his way to his bathroom and begins getting ready for school, leaving his home around 8 o’clock. As hangs out chatting with his old pal Kenny by his locker he hears whispers around him, he stops his conversation with Kenny to listen in on the conversation happening around him and heard word of an foreign exchange student.
As the bell rang throughout the schools hallways students filed into their designated classrooms. Stan found his seat amongst his classmates and waited as the teacher, Mr. Garrison, prepared himself his today’s lesson. “Alright students you all should be continuing your notes from yesterday, everything is still on the board, if you got any questions.. don’t ask me.” He then pulled out a book and ignored the class for the rest of the hour.
Not long after students began doing their work an unfamiliar face walked into the classroom, looking lost hoping they had found their destination. All attention was turned towards the young adult standing in the door frame. “And who might you be?” Mr. Garrison asked as his focus from his book turned towards the new student. A young male, no older than eighteen slowly stepped into the room.
His hair already drew so much attention to him, fiery red curls like flames from a fire that went down to his shoulders. His eyes were of a slightly foggy pine forest, a deep cool emerald green. Freckles were sprinkled generously across his face and even some on the top of his hands, hands the held a piece of paper that his green eyes kept glancing down at before looking back up at the class the back to Mr. Garrison. “Is this classroom 232?” the boy spoke in a heavy french accent.
“That must be the exchange student.” Stan thought to himself. He watched as the redhead made his way to the teacher’s desk and handed him a tardy note.
Mr. Garrison inspected the slip of paper and shoved it in his drawer before turning to Kyle. “Well, why don’t you introduce yourself to the class?”
Kyle looked at the teacher then to the class, meeting the gaze of a thousand eyes “bonjour, my name is Kyle Broflovski. I moved here from France and i hope to seek the same education, or any education at all, here in the states. Though it might be difficult considering-” Before he could finish his insults Mr. Garrison cut him off. “Alright smartass go sit down.”
Kyle rolled his eyes and looked around the room for an empty before making his way next to Stan. He plopped down in the desk and looked over at Stan before turning back to the chalkboard.
As the exchange student sat down next to Stan he was immediately hit with the strong cologne he wore but underneath the cloud of cologne there was something hiding, the stench of cigarettes. Surprising considering how well put together the fellow looked.
Stan stared at the new student for a minute or two, considering if he should try to strike up a conversation. The guy kinda seemed like a douche after his whole “Americans are stupid” spiel, but Stan decided that he might as well try to talk to the guy.
“So uh.. France… that’s pretty cool.. what part of France are you from..?” Stan wasn’t sure why, but he was nervous. Nervous as he waited the redheads response. Nervous that what he said was all wrong.
“Eh. Not that I expect *you* to know where it is, I’m from a small town in Lyon.” Kyle then began to dig through his bag for a notebook to copy the notes on the board to his textbook as Stan stared at him
“Right. “ Stan scoffed at the slight jab before asking more questions “What brings you to Colorado?” Kyle tapped his pencil against his notebook as Stan asked him another question before sighing “My father got a job offer here that offered quite the paycheck, so my parents both decided for me and my brother to learn a new language and move to a completely different continent.”
Stan didn’t really know how to respond, but he imagined what it would be like to be forced to move to a completely different country and learn a new language and customs so he showed or at least tried to show his condolences. “Oh.. I’m sorry to hear that..”
“You don’t have to pity me. I’m more than capable of handling the situation without people trying to pretend they care.” his voice was sharp. And that was the end of their conversation.
As class ended, the day passed, the last bell rung, and for Stan that met he had to go to work at his part time job as a cashier at the local shop. As Stan made his way from the parking lot to the store, he noticed smoke emitting from a slightly rolled down window from a car parked in the far dimly lit area of the shop’s parking lot. Stan checked the time on his phone and noticed that he still had time to investigate the smoke and made his way towards the car. As he approached the car he saw through the windshield that same fiery red hair he saw in class earlier that day. Stan knocked on the window of the car and caught the attention of the redhead.
Kyle looked at the person knocking on his window and once he realized he recognized the man he rolled his window down, not bothering to put out his cigarette he held in his hand. “Pourquoi me déranges-tu ? What do you want?” He was obviously annoyed by the disturbance.
“What are you doing smoking in a parking lot? Aren’t you like.. underage?” Stan was starting to loose his patience with Kyle’s snarky ‘too good for you’ attitude.
Kyle took a drag from his cigarette before blowing smoke in Stan’s face “are you gonna snitch on me, American?”
Stan coughed violently at the second hand cigarette smoke that violently intruded his lungs as he swatted the air “god *cough* you’re such an *cough cough* ASSHOLE!”
“Boo hoo. Va me pleurer une rivière, racaille.” Kyle then rolled his window all the way up and ignored Stan and watched as he stood outside his car window in disbelief before knocking on it again. Stan was relentless and kept knocking till Kyle finally rolled the window back down.
“Would you stop!?” He yelled at the man practically pounding on his window “god you people are annoying. What do you want? Why are you still here?”
“You gotta go smoke somewhere else shit-lips. The guy that owns the shop and the parking lot has a no smoking policy while on his grounds, so… get moving, or maybe, y’know, stop smoking because smoking under 21 here is illegal.” Stan the reached for the cigarette in Kyle’s hand and once he had it he flicked it on the ground and stomped it out.
Kyle spat on the floor next to Stan before turning his car on “Va te faire foutre. Connard.” Kyle then rolled his window all the way up and drove off, but not without flipping Stan off first. Once he was out of sight of the parking lot, Stan checked the time and practically skipped his way to work with a smug smile on his face.