"Mom! I'm home!" Kyle yells, getting in.

No answer.

"Ike!" Kyle yells.

"Did they go somewhere?" I ask.

Kyle looks around.

"They had something to do," Stan says.

He gives Kyle a list.

"Good. For a moment, I actually got a little scared," Kyle says.

"Why?" I ask.

Kyle ignores me and gets up the stairs, leaving us to follow.

"You left your shirt here," Kyle says.

Kenny takes the shirt with a laugh.

"Well it's technically your shirt," Kenny says.

"We agreed that it's basically yours anyway. It's too short anyway," Kyle says.

Kenny laughs.

"Do you need anything or what?" Kyle asks.

"I don't think so," Stan says.

I take my math book, opening the page.

"I just don't think I understand this," I say.

Kyle sits next to me.

"Did you not learn this?" He asks.

"I'm sorry," I say.

"Don't be. I mean. Okay. Basically this is Y, leaving this to be O. If this is O and this is Y, this is A. O multiplied by Y reduced by A will make," Kyle says.

"X. I already knew that. I mean," I say.

"Oh. Okay. Don't do that side yet, figure out, what X is first. Then you can go on," Kyle says.

"Nerd," Kenny says.

"Whore," Kyle answers, without a look in Kenny's direction.

"Oh, I got it!" I say.

"That's good. It works the same way with all the others," Kyle says.

There is a couple of minutes of silence.

"Done," I say and close the book.

"Did we have anything else?" Stan asks.

"119 to 124, 3 and 4," Kyle says.

"Please no, too much reading," Kenny says.

"True. What were the exercises anyway?" Stan asks.

He reads them out loud.

"'Write a poem about one of these subjects. Friends, future or own choice.' That's so easy," Stan says.

"I still think you should read the chapter," Kyle says.

"I agree. Plus, four is 'Choose one of the poems in the chapter to preform.' How do you know, which poem to preform without reading them?" I ask.

Kenny turns the page.

"This one," he says.

Stan looks over his shoulder.

"I'd pick the one next to it," he says.

"Then you pick it, idiot," Kenny says, with a laugh.

"I will! I just mean, that one is probably easier to preform. The one you're picking looks weird! I don't know, how someone reads something spaced like that," Stan says.

"My poetry is spaced like that," Kenny says.

"'Your poetry'?" Kyle asks.

"You heard me," Kenny says.

He puts his book away.

"What about biology? You had homework, right?" Kyle asks.

"Do you have to get your face up in my business? Yes, I had homework, but it was the easiest fucking homework I've ever had," Kenny says.

"Sorry I asked," Kyle says, rolling his eyes.

"Fuck you," Kenny says, sounding fake drunk.

"You're not doing this," Stan says, hiding his face.

"No, Kyle, I love you," Kenny says.

"You say that every time you're drunk," Kyle says, getting into the role.

"Wait. I don't remember this one," Stan says.

"Like, I really really love you," Kenny says, fake crying.

"That's, what you always say," Kyle says.

"Fuck you," Kenny says.

"It's four in the fucking morning, on a Wednesday. Why are you drunk?" Kyle asks.

"Oh! I remember! I was here," I say.

"Better, I was with Stan," Kenny says, laughing.

"Does everyone else remember my drunk moments but me?" Stan asks.

"Pretty much," Kyle says.

"How embarrassing things have I said?" Stan asks.

"You're obsessed with telling Kyle to 'fuck off' or fuck himself. You also keep insisting that I'm a girl," I say.

"Oh fuck me. Why? I'm not that crazy," Stan says.

"He has evolved, now he tells us to fuck him," Kyle says, laughing.

"To be honest, I'll gladly do that," Kenny says.

"You wanted to fuck a tree, when you were 13. You'll fuck anything," Stan says.

"First off, I was high. Secondly, that tree had it coming," Kenny says.

"You also gave head to a fence," Kyle says.

"Both of those are still valid points. The fence had it coming," Kenny says.

"I don't know, if you're sane. A fence doesn't care for getting head," I say.

"Although it was really impressive. Do you not gag?" Stan asks.

"Hey! Kyle doesn't either!" Kenny says.

"How do you know that?" Stan asks.

"He gave," Kenny says.

"No I didn't! Don't lie!" Kyle says.

"How does he know then?" Stan asks.

"Basically, middle of the night, he said 'I bet you can't put this in your mouth without gagging' I don't remember, what it was. We were literally 12. And no, it wasn't his dick, I promise. I haven't sucked his dick. Well, anyway, I won that bet," Kyle says.

"You're being specific. You haven't sucked MY dick. I didn't say that you haven't sucked dick, you mentioned my dick," Kenny says.

"Well! Look at the time! Do you want something to eat?" Kyle asks.

"You didn't answer," Kenny says.

"Bye! See you soon!" Kyle says.

He leaves the room, closing the door.

"Nope," I say.

I cover my ears before Kenny even opens his mouth.

"Come on, Butterfly!" Kenny says.

He sits next to me, a smirk on his face.

"We gotta fool Kyle to come back in and then ask again, Stan, I want answers. Would you please just stand by the door, when he comes in?" Kenny asks.

"You're being sneaky," Stan says.

"So? I want my answers," Kenny says.

I roll my eyes.

"He's not that dumb," I say.

We sit in silence for nearly five minutes before Kyle comes back, he leans against the door.

"Um," Kenny starts.

"Who died?" Kyle asks.

"What?" Stan asks.

"I-I mean, it was meant as a joke," Kyle says.

I roll my eyes.

"What food?" Kenny asks.

"Pizza. That's all I could find," Kyle says.

"I would eat a rock, if there was nothing else," Kenny says.

All of us laugh.

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

Guess, who has ACTUALLY given head to a fence. Hints: Their name starts with an E and has three letters, they were born in January and they wrote this chapter.

~Eko.