"Fuck."

"Morning to you too," Stan says.

"Morning?" I ask.

"No, it's not 'morning'. But still, morning, dude," Stan says.

"Not morning?" I ask.

"We're going to be late if we keep talking. Well, I guess you could count this as morning, but, we're seriously going to be late, which is actually still morning. Fuck, let's not overthink, if this is morning or not," Stan says.

"What the fuck happened?" I ask.

"You insisted that I shouldn't drink a full bottle. I denied and you forced me to share so I wouldn't be so drunk that I could get alcohol poisoning," Stan says.

"Oh fuck," I say.

"Is it a bad one?" Stan asks.

"Yup. I haven't gotten drunk in ages," I say.

"Really? It went down pretty professionally," Stan says.

"Stan, you know I used to get drunk daily. Off shit my parents left lying around, so, seriously, i could be a professional," I say.

"Whatever dude. But I mean it. We. Are. Going. To. Be. Late," Stan says.

"Fine," I say.

I put my parka on, as well as my pants.

"There. Lets go," I say.

Stan nods and we go downstairs.

"Although. Why the fuck are we bothering? School doesn't teach us anything anymore," I say.

"Trust me, if I could, I would stay home, but no," Stan says.

He opens the door, putting his other shoe on.

"Wait. How long were you up?" I ask, putting my shoes on.

"I got dressed and looked at the clock, you woke up straight after that," Stan says.

We get out the door.

"Fuck. Why does this keep happening?" He asks, closing his jacket as we walk.

"Trust me, this could be shittier. Did we miss the bus?" I ask.

"No," he says.

I grab his hand and start running, getting to the bus stop pretty quickly.

"Fuck," Stan says, taking a deep breath.

"I hate running in the cold," Stan says.

"Trust me, so do I," I say.

"What the fuck took you so damn long?" Kyle asks.

"Alarm wasn't on," Stan says.

"Do I have to wake you up? Fucking God. I was thinking, what I would say to the teachers," Kyle says.

"I don't know. Sorry? And no, you don't have to wake me up, this is the last time this year," Stan says.

"You weren't getting drunk after you got home. Were you?" Kyle asks.

Kyle looks really disappointed, when neither of us answers.

"On the bus. Now," Kyle says.

We get on the bus, sitting at the back, leaving Kyle the seat between us.

"Stan, you need to stop. Next time this happens I will make sure you get help. Sure. If you can go four months without drinking, I won't tell anyone. If you can't, I'm getting you help and fucking paying for it, if that's needed," Kyle says.

Kyle takes Stan by the shoulders.

"I care for you, dude. And I don't want anything bad to happen," Kyle says.

Stan nods, looking ashamed.

"I'm doing this for you. Okay?" Kyle asks.

Stan nods again.

"Good," Kyle says.

Kyle turns to me.

"You're going to be with him. Please, look after him a little. We both know this'll be hard for him," Kyle says.

I nod, smiling at Kyle.

"I'm right here. Did you know?" Stan asks.

"Yes, but I just wanted to check it up," Kyle says.

"He drinks too. Why am I the one that has a problem?" Stan asks.

"Because unlike you, Kenny doesn't get drunk every possibility he has," Kyle says.

"I'm better that you," I say, smiling at Stan.

"No you're not," he says.

"Yes I am," I say.

I start laughing, rolling my eyes.

"We sound like the song you talked about," I say.

He laughs, nodding.

"We do," Stan says.

He smiles at me.

"Oh fuck off and make out," Kyle says.

"Why? So you can jerk off to it?" I ask.

"I have better things to do, first of all. Second of all. Would I publicly admit to that? That'd be stupid of me. So I'm going to answer with In your dreams, asshole," Kyle says.

"Oh, might just be your dream we're talking about here," I say.

"Oh nightmare for sure," Kyle says.

"Oh not that it's a nightmare. Is it?" I ask.

"I don't even think about it," Kyle says.

"You sure about that? Like, 100% sure?" I ask.

"More like 99%. Might have come to mind while tipsy or drunk," Kyle says.

"Oh, you know it came to mind. I can see past that shit," I say.

"Can you? You aren't exactly denying that 'in your dreams' statement either, I might be getting past your bullshit as well," Kyle says.

"Oh really? What if I just take the hit and don't say anything? I might be ruining the game," I say.

"Oh you sure aren't for me. Because I don't play fair either," Kyle says.

"Have you ever not played by the rules. I think you might be playing tough here," I say.

"Try. I'm not joking, playing fair was never my specialty," Kyle says.

"Really now?" I ask.

"Yup. Wanna have an another go?" Kyle asks.

"Why an another?" I ask.

"I got everything I needed this round, I don't have any reason to risk the stakes," Kyle says.

"What the fuck is going on?" Stan asks.

"We're basically trying to get as much information from each other in the form of sorts gambling," I say.

"One puts the idea on the table, both put stakes on as well and the other person tries to get as much information as possible," Kyle says.

"That's not a game, that's basically just outing one another," Stan says.

"School. Kenny, I won," Kyle says.

Kyle gets up and leaves to go join Butters.

"What the fuck does that mean?" Stan asks.

"Kyle got more information than me, meaning I lost the round. To be honest, Butterfly is the best at this," I say.

"You looked like you were about to make out, not play a game," Stan says.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This 'game' is actually a thing I love doing. Yes, LOVE. It's fair enough, although I normally win against people, but there are those times I don't win.

~Eko.