The late afternoon sun beat down over South Park, turning the dry grass in Eric Cartman’s backyard yellow at the tips. Empty soda cans littered the patio table while Stan and Kyle argued over some stupid movie ranking neither of them was ever gonna agree on. Cartman lounged in a lawn chair like he owned the entire state of Colorado, running his mouth between bites of cheesy poofs.

“And I’m telling you,” Cartman said, pointing dramatically, “if aliens were real they would obviously pick me as their leader because I have superior leadership skills.”

Kyle snorted. “Dude, you cried because the drive-thru forgot your nuggets.”

“That was a human rights violation!”

Stan laughed into his drink while Kenny sat slouched in the grass nearby, hood down for once because of the heat. His blond hair was a mess from the humidity, and he looked half-listening to the conversation while absently pulling at a loose thread on his orange sleeve.

Truth was, Kenny hadn’t really paid attention to anything all afternoon.

Not since Cartman mentioned you were coming home today.

Two months.

You’d only been gone two months at some fancy summer camp your mom scraped together money for, but to Kenny it felt way longer. South Park was always boring, but without you around? It felt empty in a way he hated admitting.

Every time Cartman started being a dick this summer, Kenny caught himself glancing around expecting you to appear outta nowhere and tell your brother to shut the hell up.

You always did.

Ever since fourth grade.

Back when Cartman used to make jokes about Kenny’s house, his clothes, his family. Everybody laughed sometimes — hell, even Kenny laughed sometimes — but you never did. You’d glare at Eric like he was the grossest thing alive and snap at him until he backed off.

Nobody really stood up for Kenny like that.

Nobody except you.

Which was probably why Kenny McCormick had been hopelessly in love with you for years.

Even if he’d rather die than say it out loud.

The back gate suddenly creaked open.

Stan looked over first. “Oh, dude—”

Kyle grinned immediately.

Cartman nearly choked on his snack. “Oh my God, you’re finally back.”

Kenny’s head snapped up so fast he almost gave himself whiplash.

There you were.

Duffel bag slung over your shoulder, wearing worn jeans and a camp hoodie despite the heat, hair messy from travel. You looked tired, annoyed, sun-kissed from being outside all summer—

—and somehow prettier than Kenny remembered.

Which honestly pissed him off a little.

“Jesus Christ,” you muttered, dropping your bag beside the porch steps. “I leave for eight weeks and you guys somehow got uglier.”

“Excuse you,” Cartman scoffed dramatically. “I’ve been thriving.”

“You’ve got cheese dust on your stomach.”

Kyle barked out a laugh while Stan doubled over snickering. Cartman looked down in betrayal.

Kenny couldn’t help it — he laughed too.

And then your eyes landed on him.

For a second, everything else kinda faded into background noise.

Your expression softened almost instantly. “Hey, Kenny.”

Just that.

Just his name.

But Kenny felt his stomach do a stupid flip anyway.

“Mmph. Hey.”

God, smooth.

You smiled a little wider at the sound of his muffled voice, and Kenny swore his brain completely short-circuited when you walked over and bumped your shoulder lightly against his.

“I missed you, dumbass.”