Shapes

The bench is hard pressed against Stan’s back. He laughs and says, “Ow.”

“What, hurting yourself again?” says Kenny. He’s on the other bench. Their benches aren’t technically perpendicular to each other, although they can be described that way. There’s a few feet of space between them, the closest ends of the benches.

“This is so much better than going to class though,” says Stan. He feels inclined to roll over but doesn’t. He looks at the sky through the leaves.

“Yep. College is just a load of BS, anyways,” says Kenny.

Stan imagines him smoking, although he knows Kenny’s not. Stan hates the smell of smoke anyways, but kind of likes the way it looks on Kenny.

“It is not,” says Stan, “college is not. College is, y’know, college, and it’s important for our lives and all.”

“That may be, but I don’t desire a life, Stan,” says Kenny. Stan’s still imagining him smoking.

Stan snorts. “Well, okay then, if you want to die,” he says. He turns his head a little so he’s looking at Kenny, and then chuckles. Kenny doesn’t look at him, but he’s laughing with him, Stan knows. He hears it.

“Kyle’s probably wondering where the hell we are,” he says.

“Where the hell you are,” Kenny corrects. “I always skip this class. Kyle knows.”

“Do you skip most of your classes?” Stan can’t help ask worriedly. If they were looking at each other, he’d be furrowing his eyebrows at him.

“Nah,” says Kenny. “Only this class. Human Origins. Like, why the fuck would we want to know how we were created when we’re all gonna die, anyways?”

“Wow,” says Stan. “You’re a downer.”

“Just realistic,” says Kenny.

They stare at the sky through the trees together. The sky is blue, with a few clouds. It’s pretty nice out today, Stan thinks.

*

The bowling alley is loud and dusty, as all bowling alleys should be. It sort of reminds Stan of the one back home, in South Park.

He can’t quite explain why the four of them have gone to the same college, but they are. It’s too mediocre for Kyle and too expensive for Kenny and too boring for Cartman and maybe a little too just right for Stan. But they’re all here, anyways, because they had nowhere else to go except with each other.

Stan and Kenny are skipping class again.

“Man, that couple sucks,” says Kenny from the corner of his mouth, sticking in one of the cheese fries Stan had paid for. He chews it thoughtfully.

“Where?” asks Stan.

Kenny points discreetly somewhere behind Stan’s head. Stan shifts around and pretends he’s looking for someone else, and takes a quick glance at their screen and nods.

“Yeah, they do,” says Stan. “Ninth turn and only eight points?”

“We’re playing, right?” says Kenny.

“If you pay,” says Stan.

Kenny laughs and flicks a fry in Stan’s direction. “You joker you,” he says, and Stan feels tempted to say I wasn’t joking even though they’d both known he was. They finish the cheese fries quickly, which is their first lunch of many lunches on the days that they skip. Stan picks the lane and Kenny picks the balls, which are bright pink, bright yellow, and bright green.

“A little help here, Stan?” he says, and Stan runs over and grabs the yellow ball.

“You’re so obnoxious,” he says.

“I try,” says Kenny, with a grin. “Let’s see how we do compared to that sucky couple over there.”

The thing about Kenny is that he’s good at everything, even though he can’t afford jack shit. Stan’s pretty sure that if Kenny’s parents made at least a decent income, Kenny would be on his way to becoming the most powerful man in the world. Kenny makes five strikes and groans when he only splits his sixth.

“Ugh, didn’t get to beat my record,” he says, which Stan knows is eight.

Stan isn’t that good, but by the end of the game he has a hundred and two, which isn’t half bad. Kenny says, “Hah, I beat you! Now you have to buy me second lunch!” and Stan points out, “I would’ve bought you second lunch anyways.”

Second lunch is Chinese at the restaurant two blocks over and Kenny tries to imitate a walrus and gets the chopsticks stuck to his upper lip for five minutes and then starts freaking out. Stan’s still laughing about it when Kyle comes out of class a half an hour later.

*

“We are,” says Stan, “skipping the football game of the season.”

They’re on the benches again. For some reason, Kenny always likes coming to these benches. But Stan doesn’t complain.

“Why’d Kyle have to go again?” Kenny asks.

“For some school assignment.”

“That’s dumb,” says Kenny. “Why d’you have to watch football for school?”

“I dunno, but I wish I had that teacher,” says Stan.

“Aw,” says Kenny, “you’d rather be watching football than be here with me?” Stan hears the tone in his voice, though, and says, “Well, yeah, dude.”

“That hurts,” says Kenny. “That hurts right here.”

Stan cranes his neck and sees a silhouette of Kenny’s hands patting the middle of his chest. “At least I didn’t hurt your dick.”

“True,” says Kenny. “I’d never be able to forgive you for that.”

Stan likes to think that the benches are closer today, because when he stretches his legs out long enough, his feet go past the armrests and his big toe can just gently touch the hood of Kenny’s parka. Kenny doesn’t notice, though, because the touch is too light.

“Remember we were kids and we played with those shape things?” Kenny says suddenly. “With the yellow triangle and the red square and the blue circle and the green rectangle?”

“Yeah,” says Stan, the images popping in his head immediately.

“I kinda always saw us as those shapes, y’know,” says Kenny. “The four of us, I mean.”

“What was I?” asks Stan. “The blue circle?”

“Nah, that was Cartman,” says Kenny, and Stan lets out a laugh, a right loud one. It sounds sort of weird in the downtown silence, because of the football game, but it reminds Stan that it’s only him and Kenny and he likes it.

“You were the red square,” says Kenny. “And Kyle was the green rectangle. And I was the yellow triangle.”

“Yeah, so? What about the shapes?” says Stan.

He hears a slight shifting, like Kenny his shrugging his white clad shoulders. “I don’t know,” he says. “Just thought I might bring it up.”

“Yeah, I see you as the yellow triangle though,” says Stan as the clouds drift above them. “You’re all… colorful and pointy-angled. Balanced.”

“What?” says Kenny, and he sits up to look at Stan and is laughing a little.

Stan feels his cheeks grow warm and pretends he doesn’t and says, “Nothing.” And then, “Geometry wasn’t my strong suit, anyways.”

*

When they’re graduate students, they all go to different schools. Stan’s is closest to Kenny’s, though, so he visits him on the weekends.

“Dude, you’ll never guess what I bought last week!” Kenny says to him one day, because Kenny has a job now. Well, jobs.

“What?” says Stan, laughing.

He can practically hear Kenny’s grin on the other side. “You’ll just have to wait and see!” says Kenny, before hanging up making Stan think he’d wanted to leave it on a cliffhanger.

Friday afternoon Stan comes to Kenny’s apartment and says, “Yeah, what did you want me to see?” Kenny says, “Follow me,” and the two of them make it to the parking garage out back.

“Dude, look,” says Kenny. “I have a moped. A fucking moped! Now I won’t have to take the dumb bus anymore!”

“Awesome, dude!” says Stan. “What kind is it?”

“No fucking idea, but it cost me eight hundred fucking dollars and it’s so worth it,” says Kenny. He strokes his moped’s handle and Stan has to hide his chuckle. “This baby rides like a charm–and look at it! Just look at it!”

“I’m looking at it,” says Stan, still grinning. The moped is blue and sleek and Stan isn’t too surprised by it.

“Want a ride?” offers Kenny, his beam as wide as the sun.

“Sure,” says Stan, and Kenny tells him how to get on without scratching any part of it.

Fifteen minutes later, they’re cruising out of the parking garage, Stan’s hands on Kenny’s waist. Kenny’s whooping and laughing and Stan is holding tight onto him, ready to fall any second; but he knows Kenny won’t let that happen (it’s just a feeling he gets.) Something inexplicable rises inside of him and it sort of reminds him of when he used to barf in elementary school, but he holds onto Kenny tighter so that Kenny’s back is pressed to his chest and Stan’s chin is practically on Kenny’s shoulder. He knows Kenny won’t let anything happen to him, but just in case.