I'm Scott Malkinson

2- Nobody Gives a Shit

Scott leaned his head against the window as the bus rumbled down the road. He hadn't gotten much sleep last night, not because there was anything majorly wrong with his life, he was just up late reading. It wasn't that interesting of a night. Scott Malkinson didn't have interesting nights.

Behind him he could hear Stan Marsh bickering with Eric Cartman. Over the summer Kyle moved to San Francisco, and in his absence it appears Cartman has taken to pissing off Stan in his place.

"Dude, all I'm saying is if you're gonna wear that much eyeliner people are going to think you're a fag," Cartman tells Stan. Scott felt his insides twist at that word. Not because he feels personally affected by it, Scott wasn't gay. He just thought it was a nasty word that shouldn't be used by anyone. That was it.

"And if you keep gaining weight people are going to think you're a hippopotamus," Stan replied. His voice was flat and monotone, not giving away any emotion. Scott had noticed Stan had purposely been speaking like that for a few weeks now. It must've been a side effect from hanging out with the goth kids. They all spoke like that, and now that Stan hangs out with them he spoke like that too.

"Ay! I'm not fucking fat you emo bitch!" Cartman shouts. The suddenness of him raising his voice caused Scott to flinch. He was only about two feet away from Scott, positioned in the seat behind him. Stan sat across the aisle from Eric in a seat next to Kenny, yet Cartman in typical fashion was being so loud, surely the entire bus could hear his argument. He was the kind of guy who demanded to be noticed, who wouldn't tolerate being ignored. He was the anti Scott Malkinson.

The recognition of that statement was bittersweet. On one hand, Scott was glad to be nothing like Eric as he found him to be a truly despicable human being, on the other, constantly being overlooked got quite lonely. He wished he could have even a quarter of the attention Eric got from their peers. Even though they hated him, they all still slightly respected him which was more than Scott could ever claim.

"Could've fooled me," mumbled Stan under his breath. Scott doesn't have to look at him to know his facial expression, he could practically hear Stan rolling his eyes.

The bus hit a bump and Scott's head smacked against the window pane. "Shit!" He let out, rubbing the side of his head.

Cartman peered over the seat. "Oh shit, look guys Thcott Malkinthon's on the bus guys."

"Who gives a fuck?" Scott heard the muffled sound of Kenny's response through the thick fabric of his orange parka.

"Yeah dude, nobody cares," commented Stan.

"I'm Thcott Malkinthon and I've got diabeteth. I jutht thmacked my head on the buth window. I'm Thcott Malkinthon." Eric continued to mock Scott, waiting for his friends to laugh. They didn't. Most kids didn't  find the diabetes jokes funny anymore, instead of laughing at him they just ignored him. Which was fine. Scott preferred being ignored to being flat out bullied.

Scott pulled out his glucose monitor and pricked his finger to check his levels: a little low. He fished though his pocket and retrieved a butterscotch candy, and popped it into his mouth.

"Guys, hey guys," Cartman said, practically giggling with joy. "Thcott jutht checked his diabeteth boxth."

"Dude lay off, nobody fucking cares about what Scott's doing," Stan told him.

Nobody ever did.