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A perfect Circle.

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I had never noticed the sound of the clock's hands on the wall, always distracted by music, the environment, or my own thoughts, something as insignificant as a 'ticking' was more than irrelevant. Non-existent. 

Until now. 

I watched the precise moment when the longest hand first settled on the three. 

Three o'clock in the morning. 

I let go a sigh of annoyance unable to concentrate on my final history essay. I reread for the thousandth time maybe, what I had written over an hour ago in that shitty chat room. 

"No need to apologize; and no, you haven't heard my voice yet. Do you want to?" wasn't at all strange or unseemly or... 

God. 

I let go of a sigh of annoyance by closing my laptop in one sudden move, moving it out of my reach, removing books and so on in my way to start rearranging my bed to go to sleep at once. 

That son of a bitch wasn't worth my time. 

 




I was the first to arrive at the stop. 

I turned on my phone, the desire to check if a new message from him had arrived made my chest squeeze in fucking anxiety. So annoying. 

I had downloaded this great application to send my phone's IP to a different destination than I was currently in; I could look at that shitty network and... and maybe not screw it up. 

I leaned against the old stop sign. I didn't even know why we were coming here, even though Stan could pick us all up at our houses instead of freezing our balls off under this rusty shitty pole. Because come on, if the graffiti ink that the stop was vandalized with a thousand times were dicks, it would be the equivalent of Cartman's mother's dignity.  

My finger touched the icon of that stupid network. I looked off into the distance, making sure no one came in before taking a deep breath and opening the app. 

I had turned off the notifications on this thing, it would be a problem if the fatass decided to write me, and, coincidentally, my cell phone decided to ring at the same time. 

So I had to check the messages in the shitty way. By entering the chat. 

" There's nothing I want right now more than to hear your voice. Ich will dich hören, bitte " The message had been sent at five in the morning.

I could kind of recognize the last part. Ich as a first pronoun, will as a present tense auxiliary verb for hören, a verb that meant 'to hear'; and dich as the pronoun 'you' thought I couldn't remember its grammatical nature; and bitte, please. 

I want to hear you, please. 

I raised my hand to my mouth to cover the giggle of mockery that came almost instinctively. I bit my lip looking for a quick answer. What should I say? What should I say... 

"And what will I get in return?" I typed and then erased it completely; God, I didn't even know how to emulate a fucking voice like that, and the accent and... "And what would you do to hear it? If you're so eager," I typed, and after a couple of seconds of hesitation, I sent it off. 

"Hey," I jumped in my place and put my phone away almost immediately. I turned to the new character at the bus stop. 

Cartman. 

"H-hey..." he arched one of his eyebrows in curiosity at my obvious nervousness. I sucked at lying or acting... the complete opposite of him. 

"What, did you forget to insert that daily suppository called 'Torah commandments' into your mother's ass?" and the nervousness was completely gone, being replaced by... yes, anger. 

"Not at all; but from the way you suggest it, anyone would say you're an expert at shoving things up your ass" he snorted, looking off into the distance, watching Stan's car approach from afar. 

"And you're at adjusting them. How's that shitty ego of yours doing? Because I see it's still very... deep'' I was going to answer, but a little mark on his neck made my eyes not even see my best friend's car coming. Was that a hickey? 

He noticed what I was looking at, of course. He pulled up his scarf to cover that curious mark almost immediately. 

"Are you looking at something? Your non-existent sex life perhaps?" I rolled my eyes in excruciating annoyance.

"Gee, I thought you didn't have a neck, with that double chin of yours it's kind of fucked up to know if there's anything more to you than fat" he wrinkled his nose in annoyance. 

"What about Kenny?" Stan asked from the window. Carman murmured something I couldn't get opening the usual door. 

"He'll be here a little later. Let's go," he finally said after meeting us inside the car. Stan detailed him through the rearview mirror. 

"Do you know why..." He closed his door, silencing Stan's question. 

"Not really, just a feeling" I looked at him in obvious suspicion because of his shitty smile... yeah, the one he tended to do right after he fucked someone up, and from the gleam in his eye, something told me he fucked someone up big time. 

"Fine" Stan shrugged and continued the routine. 

"What are you planning, fatso?" he let out a silly, childish laugh. His gaze flashed at me through the reflection of the window. 

"Right now?" he shrugged. "Nothing." I let out a grunt of annoyance going back to my cell phone, I leaned against my corner doing my best to ignore it. I had too much with the prominent graduation to get into his childish crap... it was enough for me to be Adolph Müller

"Hey, there's a series of screenings at the local theater this weekend, horror movies banned in the eighties or nineties; I don't remember..." Stan started talking, I watched him silently, his gaze found mine through the rearview mirror "I got tickets for all four of us. Are you guys coming?" 

"Usually you tell people first, and then you buy the tickets" Cartman said from his seat. I nodded in agreement. 

"I'm going, it's not like I have plans for the weekend. How the hell did you get the tickets anyway?" he shrugged. 

"This creepy movie theater guy had a terrible accident, he got a crush on my sister." 

"God, is that even possible?" asked the fat tits. Well, he must have known that first hand, falling in love with him was a similar accident, or a thousand times worse. 

"No fucking clue. But he gave me the tickets in exchange for some pictures of Shelly so..." 

"Your sister will kill you if she finds out" I left my cell phone for a moment. He shrugged. 

"If she finds out" he repeated my words "What about your Cartman? Are you in?" 

"Shitty effects, ridiculous scripts and close-ups of tits? Yeah. Why not" after that he turned his attention to his phone, while Stan and I continued to discuss the movies that would appear in that thing. I didn't really care that much... I just commented on nonsense while my gaze was hopelessly drawn to that smile he drew on his lips while reading our chat.

Our chat. It sounded weird. 

It was soft, sober... devoid of malice or distorted emotions amidst its common vileness. Innocent I might even say. 

I'd never seen him smile like that.

He started typing. 

"Hey, are you listening to me Ky?" I turned to Stan, nodded. 

"Yeah yeah, that stupid movie with Christopher Lee in it, right? What was it called again?" 

"The one about the werewolf or some shit like that," he replied contentedly. I nodded again. I saw his fingers moving around in that stupid chat again. 

The trip was taking longer than usual... Or was it my imagination? 

We arrived shortly after, got out of the car, Stan went to park and soon we were in class. He was in the back, in those seats from which he could throw shit at teachers without attracting attention; and I was in the front, from where, according to him, I could kiss ass more easily. 

Fucker. 

I stood up, just before the teacher arrived, and took one of those seats in the back. I mean, I had to go on with my little joke, and it was kind of annoying to chat with the professor in front of you. 

I felt his gaze follow me curiously, and then just go back to his own cell phone. The teacher came in a few seconds later. 

" What would you like me to do? " he had written... Had he really... 

I bit my lip amusingly, took a deep breath and started typing. 

"My imagination doesn't go beyond predicting the price of a barrel of oil for the next month Eric, why don't you help me think" and I sent it off, not without first giving my heart an internal punch for beating like a virgin about to be fucked for the first time. 

I looked at him sideways, in the corner, at the other end of the room. He took out his cell phone, it vibrated of course. 

His eyebrows arched in surprise, and a strange smile moved one of his mouth corners. He put his cell phone down... 

Wait, He wasn't going to answer it?. 

I continued with the phone, it would be weird if I stopped just as he was stopping. 

"Where are you?" I asked Kenny, it didn't come up that he'd been online for about two hours or so. 

" Waiting for the change of classes to go to the next one " he surprisingly answered. 

"This one's just started, so you can get in without any trouble..."

" Yeah, well... if it wasn't that teacher I would, but you know, she's still kind of pissed off after I mistakenly grabbed her ass the other day, and she's looking for any excuse to send me to the office... I think her office specifically, if you know what I mean " behind it were some symbols with these hands, emulating a vulgar gesture of... of penetration, yeah. 

I rolled my eyes. 

"Not everybody wants to fuck you, you know?" 

" I know. Amazing. Isn't it? ” 

"I find it quite credible."

" Fine, I'll go in.

After that message he didn't answer anymore.

I watched other chats, ignoring the one about my mother asking about my progress on the college presentation essay. It was killing me.  

A few minutes went by, and indeed, his knocking silenced the teacher's lesson. 

She came to the door then, her heels echoing over the wood floor. She opened up. 

"Hey, sorry I'm late, I had a little altercation with the neighbor’s dog ..." 

"Get in" the teacher ordered. Kenneth nodded as he was about to enter, but at one point the teacher stopped him by the shoulder and whispered something in his ear before letting him go. 

No one really noticed, most were busy checking their phone on that little break from the teacher's boring words. I noticed it... and from the look Cartman gave the teacher after Kenneth took a seat next to him, something told me he did too. 

"What did she say?" I wrote in the chat room. 

" In her office today after school. I told you

"She' ll want to talk about your grades or something, not everything involves fucking, Kenn." 

" Oh, I'm sure your dear Sigmund Freud would discern with you there " I looked for his face in the middle of the class. He laughed amusingly. 

"What, I applaud you for spelling his name right?" 

"Nah, I don't deserve it. It was the auto-corrector" I smiled at the response willing to put the phone away, until Cartman's answer emerged. 

" Come on, don't be lame. Take the initiative, you might even ask me the impossible. I'm pretty good at doing the impossible

"Well" I wrote back, I couldn't really deny that statement. But I knew about one thing I was sure it was utterly impossible for him "How about a perfect score on a calculus test? And no cheating, I know you're smart enough to get it without obscene means" he would probably cheat, even if I told him not to, but it would be interesting to see how motivated he was. 

I searched for him slyly, and as soon as he read the text his face frowned. I couldn't avoid a smile on my face. 

He let out a sigh of annoyance. 

" You're deliberately making it difficult for me, aren't you?

"Maybe" and I put the phone away. 

The next test was in two weeks, and well, who was the last person to get a perfect score on a calculus test? 

"Kahl" I heard him approaching as soon as the class was over, I watched him sideways, standing up as I took some things from my desk to leave. 

"Cartman" the Fatso took a deep breath, chewed his lower lip in annoyance, and his hands probably made a thousand knots between his coat pockets. 

Come on, fatso, it's not that hard. 

"You need something? The next class is about..." 

"Do you want something?" 

"Huh?" he rolled his eyes in exasperation. 

"If you want something, I can get it; now, in return I want you to help me get a perfect score on the next calculus test. Name your price bitch, there's no Jew without a certain number of zeros that wouldn't dilate its vagi..." 

"No" I spit. I was actually going to help him; but god, this asshole managed to make even requests like that sound fucking illegal and dirty. Damn it "Fuck you" he clicked his tongue as I started my way out. 

"Ok ok. Again" he hurriedly interrupted my path, pushing some seats in the pass, and receiving some insults that he ignored in the process "Kyle, would you please study with me for the next calculus test? I'll owe you a favor, a big one" His smile spread innocently, childishly manipulative, and with a trained subtlety that made it almost impossible to discern his falseness from the fact that falsehood was inherent in his character "Whatever you want, legal, illegal, clean, dirty..." 

"Stop, stop for fuck's sake" his smile was immovable, waiting with a very dissimulated impatience for my answer "I think I have something..." he arched his eyebrows in curiosity, feigned curiosity in fact, in his brain the word Kyle was related to many things, and among them, lame. I was a nuisance to him, insipid, quite a bit; so he knew I wouldn't ask for anything that went beyond my moral standards, or for him, the suppository of commandments that I inserted up my ass every morning. 

"What?" he rushed, the doorbell ringing in the background. 

I had nothing really, I didn't expect him to offer me anything in return... sometimes he became extremely unpredictable, and my actions on him could have even catastrophic consequences. 

And out of the blue I was afraid of the stupidity I was about to ask for, just for the simple fact of asking for something that hopefully would not affect anyone.

"I have to do an important essay for my college entrance, I'll ask you to help me with it eventually" one of his eyebrows raised, real surprise overwhelming all those false expressions in his manipulative face "I don't know what kind of help I'll need; but I guess I don't lose anything by having that option open" 

I honestly doubted that his help was worth a rat’s ass; but I'd rather opt for something as stupid as that, than grope with the beast.  

He pulled out his cell phone then; he started typing something. 

"What the fuck are you doing?" he smiled. 

"Making a note of an important fact. The day Kahl Broflovski admitted my genius, to the point of asking me for help him with a essay" I sighed as I started my way out. Fucking waste of time "Hey, hey! Fine, I'll help you. When do we start studying?" he started following me like a lapdog, I shrugged. 

"Monday?"

"Monday"