{Complete} The Strange Boy Next Door ~ Bunny fanfic~

11

After school, I wait for Phillip outside near the bus stop. He's taking his time, I've been here for twenty minutes.

I decide to quickly text my mom whilst I wait.

Butters: Hey mom, is it okay if I have a friend over? We have some homework we have to do together and his family don't like having people over.

Mommy: that's fine, dear. Will he be staying over for dinner?

Butters: hopefully. It's going to take us a while to work on this project.

Mommy: okay, I'll go to Whole Foods and buy something nice for dinner.
Mommy: see you soon xx

Butters: bye x

I put my phone away and look around for Phillip. I can't see any students anywhere.

"Come on, Kyle, if we don't go soon my dad will be so drunk he'll mistake you for me and hurt you." A familiar voice says.

I look over at the school. Kenneth is pulling Kyle out of the building by his arm, but Kyle is trying to pull himself out of his grip.

"Kenneth, hi!" I shout, waving wildly.

"Kenny!" He corrects me, still dragging Kyle.

"Kenny get off me you asshat!" Kyle grunts, pushing the taller male as hard as he can.

I run over to them. Kenneth stops trying to drag Kyle.

"Hey, Leo," he smiles, "wanna help me drag Kyle to my place so we can work on our project?"

"I can walk by myself!" Kyle pulls his arm out of Kenneth's hands. "And why can't we work at my house?"

"Because you know I'll steal your dad's wine, get drunk and try to sleep with your mom again."

"Fair point," Kyle shrugs. "Okay, let's go."

"See you Leo, give me a call later, okay?" Kenneth hands me a small slip of paper and walks off towards the exit of the school grounds.

Kyle almost has to run to keep up with him, only having short legs compared to Kenneth's long ones which help him take long strides.

"Butters, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to take so long." A voice from behind me pants.

I turn around and see Phillip jogging towards me.
He finally stops, leans over and takes deep breaths.

"Are you okay?" I ask.

"Yeah... I'm just really really out of shape," he pants. "I always bring in a sick note to get out of gym class. The last time I actually ran was last year when Damien was chasing me with fireballs."

"He doesn't seem very nice," I frown, "why do you like him so much?"

"I don't know. It seems silly, liking a boy who's so cruel to me, but every time I see him I get butterflies in my stomach. I can't stop thinking about him and I just always want to be with him," Phillip shakes his head. "We should get going, we only have a week to do this project."

Time skip because I'm too lazy to write about their journey home.

"Hello, Butters," mom greets me as I enter the house. "Hello, I'm Mrs Stotch. You're welcome to stay as long as you like."

"Thank you so much, ma'am," Phillip smiles, removing his shoes and leaving them beside the door, "my name's Phillip, but everyone calls me Pip because they hate me."

"It's lovely to meet you, Phillip," mom shakes his hand. "Now, whilst you boys work on your project I'm going to be reading my book for the book club. Have fun."

We go upstairs to my bedroom. The dresser has been pulled back to the middle of the room, the trap door is open and the ladder is down.
A sticky note stuck onto the top of the dresser reads 'Left you something in the attic. Hope you like, Love mommy xx'

"Give me a second." I say to Phillip, who sits down on my bed to wait.

I climb up the ladder and enter the attic. I take out my phone to use as a torch.

In the middle of the attic is a little tv, connected with long cables which most likely plug into an outlet in my room. There's also an Xbox 1 and a couple of controllers which used to be in my room back in north park.
Around it are colourful beanbags, red, blue, pink and purple, and little throw pillows with little hello kitty bows stitched on.

There's a little bookcase pushed against the wall. It's filled with books, Xbox games and manga. She's also stacked my playboys on top of it, although I'm going to throw them out later.
There's a little hello kitty trash can next to it, somehow already overflowing with trash.

It's my own little space to hang out with friends, just like mom said. It's beautiful! I can't wait to invite Kenneth, Kyle, Stan and Phillip over to play video games someday. Not Cartman, he's an asshat.

I would invite Phillip up now but we have a project to work on.
I climb back down the ladder.

"So, project!" I sit on the floor and pull all of the books out of my backpack. "Should we do a huge poster to go along with it or make mini leaflets the class can read whilst we talk?"

"Leaflets sound fun!" Phillip smiles, sitting down on the floor and crossing his legs. "But Damien could set them on fire and use them as fireballs."

"Fair point. How about we do one leaflet per table and a poster as a backup?"

"Sure."

I grab a sheet of A2 paper from my huge sketch pad that's here for the plot and some smaller sheets of A4 paper for leaflets.

"So first of all we should read about organ donation to get our facts," I hand Phillip a sheet of paper. "We can make important notes on this sheet of paper and turn those notes into the poster and leaflets."

"You're good at presentations," Phillip states, "usually people just write notes on one cue card five minuets before class and it lasts two minuets. I feel like our project is going to be good!"

"When I lived in North Park I was that kid who did everyone's homework. The whole class made me do their presentations. I barely had time to sleep when this happened," Pip pats my shoulder sympathetically, "that's why I'm so good." I add as a joke.

Suddenly, someone screams.
It's a loud, ear shattering scream that could turn your blood cold.

"What the hell was that?" I squeak, running to the window.

Back at North Park there were a lot of fights. Fights about babies, drugs, cheating boyfriends, etc. If someone screamed outside your house then there was usually a drunk woman holding a smashed bottle to another woman's throat, even if the argument was between two blokes.

I look down the street to see if there's anyone there, but the street is empty, minus a cat that looks an awful lot like Cartman.

"It was probably from the McCormick house," Phillip says, "they're always screaming at each other."

I take a final glance out of the window just in case, but when I'm sure that nobody is holding a smashed wine bottle to anyone's throat, I sit down and work on the project.