South Park Fan Fiction ❯ My Name is Kenny ❯ Getting a Date ( Chapter 1 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Okay, I'm sorry about that last part. I'm usually not that morbid. In fact, I'm a pretty fun guy to be around most of the time. It's just that this pain is always underneath the surface, so I had to explain the pain before you could really understand me.

Anyway, on with the story I'm here to tell you: it was a Friday, and I was eating lunch at school with my friends. Stan was—oh wait: I completely forgot to tell you more about my friends, Stan, Kyle, and Eric. Stan Marsh is the guy no one can fool. Like me, he doesn't always say much, but when he has something to say, it's usually important. But he is cynical; he's sometimes critical of stuff to the point where it's really annoying. Stan has a girlfriend, Wendy Testaburger, and when he's around her, he's usually in a lighter mood. He also mistrusts adults, no matter who they are, and he's been really bad about that since his parents got divorced. I can't really blame him for hating adults; after seeing how much of an idiot his dad is, I'm really glad I have the one I got, even if he is a lazy bum.

Kyle Broflovski is Stan's best friend, but he's almost the opposite of Stan. He's usually pretty optimistic about life, and sometimes finds Stan's pessimism annoying, like I do. But, regardless, he and Stan are virtually inseparable, except in church; Kyle is Jewish, but Stan, Eric and I are all Catholic. No one really cares that Kyle is Jewish, except for Eric.

Eric Cartman is a bigoted, fat, selfish, spoiled kid who excels at being an all-around asshole. The rest of us usually wonder why we even hang out with him; he makes fun of Stan for having a girlfriend, and he makes fun of me for being poor. Of course, we make fun of him for being fat, so maybe we deserve it a little bit. But Eric is also the most anti-Semitic person ever to live outside Nazi Germany, which means he picks on Kyle even more than he picks on me and Stan. And Kyle hates Eric right back. I almost don't know how they can even call each other friends.

Personally, I can't make up my mind about Eric. I feel kind of sorry for him, because everyone hates him, and I know he'll be lonely and miserable when he grows up. It's a feeling that I can relate to. Stan and Kyle are best friends, so Eric generally considers me to be his best friend. I probably am. Of course, the problem with Eric is that he wouldn't hesitate to throw even his best friend under the bus—I mean that figuratively, although it has happened literally, too—to get what he wants.

Anyway, Stan was asking if any of us were going to ask a girl to go to the Homecoming Dance. He, of course, was going with Wendy. We were all really excited to be in high school, and I knew that dating was going to be even easier in high school than it had been before. I just wasn't sure who I would ask yet.

"I might ask Rebecca again," Kyle said, referring to the homeschool girl.

"You mean the slut?" Eric asked.

"She's not a slut, Cartman!" Kyle yelled.

"Hey, whoa, Kyle! Chill!" said Eric. "I don't care if you go out with a slut. I just thought it was only Kenny who did that."

"Yeah," I chipped in, although truthfully I was a little irritated that he had made that comment. Just because the girls I liked dressed more scantily than most didn't mean they were sluts. And just because I had been looking at porn since I was 7 years old didn't mean I was a pervert, either. Right?

"She's not a slut! That was a long time ago, and she's changed," Kyle insisted.

Eric called Rebecca Cotswalds a slut again, and they kept arguing. Stan and I looked at each other and rolled our eyes in aggravation. While the two of them kept at each other, I looked around the cafeteria to see if there was anyone else I could go to the dance with.

Bebe Stevens? No. She was on my blacklist for having killed me at least twice, although it wasn't intentional. Besides, I don't think she would look good naked. What? I mean…just in case…

Tammy Warner, the 10th grader? No. I still haven't forgiven her for our last relationship. A couple years ago, I took her to a stupid Jonas Brothers concert, just to get her pumped up for some sex, and wouldn't you know it? The bitch had syphilis! I mean, I don't necessarily blame her for having it, but it would have been nice to tell me about it first. Instead, I get to die a slow death from syphilis. That one was not fun.

Red Tucker? No. I almost did see her naked. She and I went on a date to a football game last year, and she was really sweet…until I invited her to come behind the bleachers, and she freaked out. I mean, really? Did she think I was going to rape her? If she didn't want sex, all she had to do was tell me; I can take rejection. Stupid girl. Now she probably wouldn't touch me with a 10 foot pole.

Heidi Turner? I looked at her walking across the cafeteria. Today she was wearing a sexy tube top. Hmm…Heidi Turner…perfect. I liked her, she was really pretty, and she might even be willing. I'd never been on a date with her before, so it would be a surprise no matter what happened.

"I think I'll ask Heidi," I said aloud. Kyle and Eric stopped arguing, and looked at me. Then they looked at Heidi. Then back at me. Even Stan joined in.

Finally, Eric laughed. "Ahahaha! Face it, Kenny; you're poor as shit. Even Kyle has a better chance of getting a date than you do." Kyle glared at him, although I couldn't tell whether it was indignation for my sake or his own.

I folded my arms and snorted. "I could show any girl a better time than you, fatass."

Eric laughed again. "Kenny, how many times do I have to tell you? No girl wants to eat a nice, romantic dinner at McDonald's, and that's all you can afford." I kept staring at him; I wasn't going to back down. "Alright, Kenny, I'll bet you $20 you won't get a girl to go with you," he finally proclaimed.

I grinned. "You're on." I stood up, displaying more confidence than I actually had. I didn't actually have $20 to give him if he won. Worse, he probably knew it. But I wasn't too worried. That's one advantage to my curse; little things like owing Cartman money don't bother you as much.

I had hardly taken five steps when I stopped dead (figure of speech). Heidi had just sat down with Red Tucker, and the two of them were chatting. If I went and asked Heidi out now, Red would probably tell her all about our date, and let Heidi know that I was a perverted rapist or something like that.

I could hear Eric trying to stifle a chuckle behind me. I'm sure he didn't know about Red and me, but he probably saw that I had stopped and thought I had lost the nerve. Well, I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction. I walked over to the two girls. "Hey, Heidi!"

Both girls turned toward me. Red gasped and looked scared, but Heidi didn't notice her. "Yes?" she asked.

"You want to go to the Homecoming Dance with me?"

Heidi smiled. "Sure, Kenny. That sounds nice."

Hoping I wasn't pushing my luck, I added, "And how about dinner beforehand? I'll buy." With Cartman's money.

Red paled, but Heidi still didn't notice her. "Alright."

Score. "See you next weekend, then," I said, winking. She laughed. I walked back to my table with a spring in my step. Judging from the look on Eric's face, he was pretty pissed. Which was fine with me.