5

                                    

                                          
"Do you wanna come in or something?" A muffled voice asks from the direction of the house. "You've been staring at my house for around ten minuets now."
                          
I look around for the source of the voice. It wasn't the scruffy man sawing a beer can, it wasn't the family of foxes. 
My eyes finally land on the source and I gasp loudly. 
                          
It's the person I saw at my window, sat on the steps of the house whilst smoking a cigarette. Their hood is up and pulled quite tight, but loose enough to be able to smoke. Blond hair peeks out from under the orange clothing, the colour slightly darker than my own blond hair. 
                          
"Are you gonna quit staring at me or what?" They ask in a gruff tone, however they don't seem to be mad. 
                          
"Umm..." I bite my lip nervously and look away, pretending to be interested in a leaf blowing down the street.
                          
"Come here. I wanna talk to you," they say, "don't be afraid, I ain't gonna eat you or anything." 
                          
I hesitate for a second, unsure of whether I should. I mean, they're a stranger. They could kill me or rape me, and I don't want that to happen. 
But, I look over at the stranger again. My eyes meet their icy blue orbs and I feel like they're staring into my soul. 
                          
My legs start moving without me thinking about it and before I realise what's happening, I'm sat beside my neighbour on the steps. 
Since I'm so close, I can tell that he's a dude. 
                          
"The name's Kenneth McCormick," He says, exhaling some smoke, "I'm guessing you're the one who moved in next door." 
                          
"Yeah. I'm Leopold, but you can call me Butters if you like," I stare at his cigarette, "have you got another one?" 
                          
"A cigarette?" He raises his eyebrow. "Okay." 
                          
He takes the box out from his pocket, takes one out and lights it. 
He hands it to me, our fingers brushing momentarily. 
                          
"What you do is-" he begins before I cut him off. 
                          
"I've smoked before." 
                          
He looks slightly impressed, although his expression is quite hard to read. 
I put the cigarette between my lips and take a long drag. I haven't smoked in a while since my mom forced me to quit, but it wasn't my choice. 
                          
"You look to cute to be a smoker," Kenneth comments, tapping his cigarette against his finger thoughtfully. "How old are you?" 
                          
"Almost sixteen," I reply, "my birthday's on the eleventh of September." 
                          
"You look younger than fifteen," Kenneth glances in my direction momentarily before staring at nothing in particular. "I'm sixteen."
                          
We sit in silence for a while, occasionally taking a drag on our cigarettes or exhaling smoke. The argument inside the house is still going, only now they've started throwing objects as well as insults. 
                          
"Is that your mom?" I ask, not caring that it could be too personal to discuss. 
                          
"And my brother Kevin," He sighs, "I'm glad my dad hasn't joined in. They called the cops on us last time because we were being to disruptive." 
                          
There's another silence, this one longer than the last. 
I spot a car turning into the street and panic when I notice Sheila and my mom are in it. 
                          
"Shit," I drop my cigarette onto the ground and stomp on it. "My mom's coming. I'll see you later Kenneth." 
                          
"Please, call me Kenny," he smiles, brushing his blond hair out of his eyes. "See you later, Leo." 
                          
Leo... Nobody's ever called me that before. 
I feel myself blushing slightly and quickly run towards the house, praying he didn't notice. 
                          
I enter my home and lock the door. 
I quickly run upstairs and go into my bedroom to see if I can see Kenny from the window. No such luck.
                          
"Butters, we're home!" Mom shouts. "I'm about to make some lunch, are you hungry?" 
                          
"Yeah, I'll come down in a sec." I call back. 
                          
I panic, remembering that I just smoked. My mom'll be able to smell it off my breath, or she'll have seen me... I haven't been grounded since Dad died and she's been so proud of me for quitting. 
                          
I look around my room for some gum, checking my sock drawers, inside my pockets, anywhere, but I don't find any.  
I'm just going to have to hope she doesn't notice. 
                          
I go downstairs, a smile plastered on my face when I see that Sheila is still here. 
She's sat on the sofa, taking up most of the room, and chatting to my mom about how to make a kosher dinner that the other parents will like. 
                          
"Oh, Butters! I'm so excited for you to meet Kyle, he's such a lovely boy and I'm sure you two will be very good friends in a matter of seconds!" Sheila pats the small space next to her on the sofa, I sit down beside her. "Are you going to be attending South Park High? I'm sure that you'll be in Kyle's class... maybe I can convince your teacher to sit you and Kyle next to each other!" 
                          
"That's really not necessary, I'll be fine," I manage to butt in. "Although it's kind of you to suggest it." I add, trying to be polite. 
                          
"I'm sure that you'll make friends with Kyle's friends too. He's been pals with Stan and Eric since kindergarten, but I'm sure they won't mind you joining in. I remember when they first met, it was like they were destined to be friends!" Sheila takes a deep breath before continuing, "although there is one person I've been warned about; Kenny McCormick. He and the boys were such good friends, but something happened between them and they seem to hate each other now. It's such a shame, I remember how close they were. I even remember putting them all in the same bed during sleepovers, minus Eric since he's a bit fat." 
                          
This woman just does not shut up. I'm beginning to think the author hates me. 
                          
"Kenny? Isn't he the boy next door?" I ask. "I spoke to him earlier and he seems like quite a nice person." 
                          
"Mmmm..." Sheila hums, "just stay away from him, he's nothing but trouble from what I've heard."