Delinquent
Chapter 3: Behind the Curtain
written by Labyrinth1n3 - illustrated by Nhaingen and SoltianGoing to bed at 2 o'clock in the morning wasn't unusual for Kyle, not anymore. At school, he had to keep up appearances by appealing to his teachers and fellow honor society members who, like him, strove to get ahead in a relatively poor county. If you weren't exceptional, you went unnoticed by the entire school population. Kyle stayed ahead of this selection process by being on the board for several academic clubs and by peer tutoring on a daily basis.
At home, he had to keep up appearances by appealing to his parents who held both him and his brother to extremely high standards. Kyle felt pressured to parade around as the good Jewish boy his mother raised him to be, not a thrill-seeker with a secret lust for risk and conflict. Though his parents supported and benefited from his ability resolve the occasional household tiff, they weren't aware of how desperately Kyle yearned to resume his role as the voice of reason for all of South Park.
The only time Kyle felt like he didn't have to keep up appearances was when he was alone in his room at night. On the Internet, he found himself getting into debates on random threads where he almost always came out victorious. Sometimes his effort resulted in something as simple as a rule getting put up or taken down, but sometimes he'd get private messages from people thanking him for sticking up for them.
Kyle needed more though. There was a time in his life where people used to thank him for saving the whole fucking world. This website monitoring bullshit couldn't compare to that kind of gratification, but those days were long gone. He had to make due with what he could get. Internet Vigilantism was the methodone to his addiction.
"God damn it, these idiots really have no idea how to mod a forum. This was a huge fucking waste of time." Kyle fumed, closing out of all his tabs. But just as he was about to close out of Trillian, an instant message popped up.
whrmachtgbracht: Are you free tonight? We need to talk.
Typical. Kyle hated it when Cartman acted all apologetic after they fought. Every time the fat boy tried to make amends it was laced with bullshit and lies, so there was really no fucking point to letting him try. They both knew he was unable to truly say he was sorry about anything, so Kyle didn't know why he bothered to pretend otherwise. Assuming that message was nothing more than another fake apology, Kyle rolled his eyes and typed out a short response.
smarterthanj00: Save it. I'm about to go to bed, night.
He didn't even wait for Cartman to respond, closing his laptop before setting it on his nightstand. His bed felt the best after a long day of battling his inner demons. Sleep overs with Stan were always enjoyable and even the occasional night with Cartman was fun, but Kyle enjoyed the serenity of being able to stretch out his limbs and fall asleep uninterrupted the most. Only then was he free to dream of the times where he didn't need a user name or control over a psychopath to make himself feel useful.
Upon waking up the next morning, Kyle remembered one of the drawbacks of his late night forum raids was feeling like total shit the next day. School was already a pain in the neck considering the amount of work he put himself through, but on four hours of sleep it was practically unbearable. Not to mention Cartman was particularly difficult to deal with that day.
"So you hardly deserve a ride for being such a dick last night and ignoring me today, but I really think you want to hear this," the fat ass boasted on their way to the car. Cartman was apparently his only available ride today. What fucking luck. "I was almost ready to break into your room to tell you, but I decided to make you suffer in suspense as punishment."
If the buses weren't already lined up and ready to leave, Kyle would have turned around to hop on his. Was it possible to pretend Cartman didn't exist on their way home? Sure it was, but would it help any? No, so Kyle snapped back, "Oh yeah, you sure showed me a lesson. I'll make sure to pay full attention the next time you want to shove a fake apology down my throat..."
"Apologize for what? I didn't do anything wrong!" Cartman defended.
If this is where the conversation was going? This was going to be one miserable ride home. Sure Kyle enjoyed the occasional argument, but he couldn't stand it when Cartman didn't even see the error of his ways... which was 99% of the time. The one percent though? Glorious.
But then Cartman unexpectedly stumbled on the next part of his sentence. "...unless knocking a guy out with an empty beer bottle counts."
Kyle blinked, surprised, and glared skeptically at Cartman. "Wait, what are you talking about."
Cartman returned Kyle's glare with a smugass toothy grin. "It just so happens that I ran into the goth kid again! Apparently Ike's having that punk steal money for him or something. You were right, Jew. Your brother is up to no good. It's that rebellious Canadian blood in him, can't trust him as far as you can throw him."
"Shut your fucking mouth!" Kyle yelled, grabbing Cartman's shirt and shoving him into the nearest car. "Is this your idea of a joke? Stealing money? Where the fuck did you hear this?"
"Get your grubby Jewpaws off of me!" The brunet pretended to take offense, but the faint smile across his lips told another story. "I didn't have to hear it, I saw it for myself during my late night HoHos run last night. The kid was stealing wallets from drunks outside Skeeters bar. One of them caught on to the fucker's little scheme and I knocked the guy out in time to ask the kid questions. Then the little fuck said Ike needed money."
Kyle felt crushed. There was no way that could be true. He hated it when Cartman fed him bullshit to get out of the dog house, and the fact that the asshole was actually using Ike to his own advantage was beyond appalling. Of course, he shouldn't expect any less from Cartman, so instead of feeling angry he just felt like a fool.
"You're lying to my face. I never want to talk to you again." Kyle sneered, turning on his heel to walk back towards the buses.
"Woah woah! Hold up, Kyle!" Cartman called to him, tugging one of his hands back until they were face to face again. "I know you really don't want to believe me this time Jewface, but I can show you the smushed box of HoHos, the alley, and the broken beer bottle if you want proof."
There were those eyes again. That stern but calm expression which read "I'm actually not playing around right now Kyle, this is serious". An unfortunate side effect of hanging out with Cartman for too long was the ability to see through his asshole guise when necessary. At first Kyle didn't see this side effect as unfortunate, in fact he thought it was an extremely useful tool to add to his arsenal. But getting to know the human side of the monster he was accustomed to was unsettling to say the least - especially in this situation.
Though Kyle didn't want to believe a damn thing, he could tell Cartman wasn't lying this time, so he stayed. "I don't... you have to understand why I'm not inclined to believe you."
The larger boy loosened the pressure of his grip, simply holding Kyle's hand now as he explained. "I specifically heard Ike's name and that he needed a certain amount of cash. We can go that alley now, I really don't mind showing you."
"For the love of god." Kyle pulled his hand away, passing by the other boy on his way to the silver Camry. "Stan went to one of his goth friends yesterday and said she didn't know of any goth boys Ike's age that would do this kind of thing. Now you're telling me this kid lives in town?"
Cartman was a couple steps behind, allowing Kyle some fuming-space as they crossed the parking lot together. "Well, I don't know about that. After I heard the Ike thing, there was something about not being able to go home because of a traitor? Look. The whole thing was weird, but I swear on my good looks that it's all true."
Then, of course, he had to change the subject to something even more infuriating. "But wait, Stan still talks to those losers? Hah, that fucking loser."
Kyle stopped in his tracks. If there was one thing he hated most about his affair with Cartman it was this continual fight between him and his best friend. They all couldn't hang out together anymore, Stan and Cartman almost fought more than he and Cartman did! After one particularly bad argument last year which resulted in Stan needing stitches and Cartman needing an X-ray, Kyle decided that neither one of them was allowed to talk about the other in his presence, and Cartman just broke that rule for what seemed like the hundredth time. "Don't talk about Stan like that, asshole! What if his friend did know the kid? We could have gotten to the bottom of this a lot faster!"
"Well it was a dead end anyway." Cartman brushed him off, walking past Kyle on his way to the drivers seat. "Hah. Just like Stan's miserable excuse for an existence."
That did it. Kyle punched him in the gut as hard as he could. That still wasn't satisfying enough,so he wrenched Cartman's arm around with a hasty pull and shoved him against his own god damn car. "Keep it up, lardass! Want a black eye next?"
"God... damn it!" the fat boy cried out in protest. He was completely pinned, and thrashed around, trying to break Kyle's hold. "What the fuck was that for! You know for a fact Stan wants to keep you away from me! Why shouldn't we be pissed off at him? I'm getting sick of the super best friend treaty you have with him or whatever. It's fucking annoying as balls."
"You're fucking annoying as balls!" Kyle grabbed Cartman's hair and smashed his fat face into the cold hard metal. "Stan's got a pretty good case against you if you ask me. There isn't a god damned day that goes by where I don't ask myself why the fuck I'm still putting up with you!"
"Because you want it just as badly as I do, obviously." Cartman managed to smile back at him, intentionally bucking backwards in some perverse gesture. "Remember? It started out a lot like this actually! You shoved me, I punched you, and then-"
"You don't have to remind me!" Kyle's cheeks flushed red, letting go of the larger boy all at once as he swiveled around to the passenger side of the car. Why Cartman thought this was a good time to bring up this shit was beyond him. "I know how it started, I just don't know how to stop it."
"Psh, listen to you. Like you'd actually want to stop the best thing that's ever happened to you." Cartman sounded from the other end, getting into the car the same time as he did. "What else are you doing at the moment, huh? Helping the retards out in basic math? I bet that's invigorating..."
"At least it's less infuriating than dealing with your sorry ass." Kyle bit back, reluctantly buckling himself into the car. Arguing with Cartman could only distract him from the situation so much. He hated that the fat ass got a lead faster than he could, even if it was due to some chance encounter.
Though Kyle couldn't keep himself from wondering, was it selfish for him to feel so enraged? Even if he wasn't the one who got the tip, at least the information got to him eventually, but it had to come through Cartman of all people! Now it felt like the asshole had a distinct advantage. Kyle didn't want him involved in this at all, but it looked like his association with him actually paid off. Would Cartman have so readily forked that tidbit over if he wasn't fucking him? Probably not, so he took that as justification for now. Kyle needed all the excuses he could find when it came to justifying his relationship with the evilest fucking person on the planet.
"What are we even fighting about?" He offered, resting his head back against the back of his seat.
"You didn't believe me when I said I saw that goth kid last night." Cartman continued to stare straight ahead as he drove, only fidgeting once as he sucked in an aggravated breath. "Why would you even be mad at me about that? This just confirms you were right all along. Congratufuckinglations!"
"Ugh, this is something I didn't want to be right about at all." Kyle groaned, "I don't think I have a choice now, I have to talk to him. I did a lot of shit when I was a kid, but I never did something as criminal as getting someone to steal money for me."
"You should have just did that in the first place, idiot." Cartman joked, shifting around for a second before he smoothly slid an arm over the back of Kyle's chair."But you know Kyle, if you're going to go there tonight I think you should settle down first. You're all flustered now, I think you need to take some of that edge off."
"Fuck you, this is not the time for that." Kyle shot down that notion faster than that fatass could go through a KFC Bucket. Nevertheless the asshole had a point; going to Ike now would probably be the worst possible option. He needed to vent a lot of his frustration out first.
That's when Kyle saw it, the victorious sheen in Cartman's eyes. The fucker knew he had him right where he wanted him. The scramble outside the car and the events that followed had ignigted a fire deep inside him that only one thing could quench - and it was all done on purpose. Kyle hated giving Cartman what he wanted, but this didn't have to end in that asshole's favor. Oh no, not today.
"At least wait till we get home first..."
Ike only cleaned his room on two occasions: when his mom told him to and when his dad told him to. There was a method to his madness, and organized to him apparently meant filthy fucking dirty to everyone else.
Admittedly though, he needed to clear up some of the clutter still stacked up from last year. His desk was the first thing that needed to be filtered through, half the folders piled on top of his filing cabinet were tasks he'd completed months ago. He needed to make room for the next one, this would probably be a four or five folder assignment. Dumping some of his smaller cases in his shredder, he realized that he might actually have to reuse the 3 inch ring binder he used for the incident last Halloween. Recycling was necessary since he couldn't keep asking his mom for new school supplies ever week. This wasn't even for class, Ike always finished his homework weeks in advanced. What this was? Was art.
Rummaging through his folders, he pulled out every clean piece of looseleaf he could find. He'd always over estimate how much each assignment needed, but this time, he knew he'd use every last sheet available to him. Printer paper too, anything. Ike needed his resources at hand at all times no matter where he went during a case. To be honest, he should have started gathering information sooner, but he only now received confirmation that this was even happening.
Then, while shredding the Halloween file, a three beeped notification suddenly sounded from his computer, catching his attention as he flew over to inspect what caused the alarm.
It was her. Barrettes-chan.
No one knew her real name, but once in a blue moon she'd show up on 4chan and offer some of the best code he'd ever seen on the internet, publicly at least. Why "Barrates-chan"? That's all they could see of her. When she'd want a laugh, she'd post pictures of herself in some compromising positions for the drooling basement dwellers to oggle at. Ike wasn't interested in that part though, the majority of the /b/tards online didn't even catch the stuff she'd type in next to her pictures. She was mocking them, but Ike was amongst her real target audience - if not the target.
They've known each other for years, before she even did the whole 4chan gig. Though they communicated seldomly, she'd give him a piece of a puzzle now and then. A clue, and it was Ike's job to decipher it. She must have lived in the area, because the clues were always relevant to something big going down at some point in the future. Either she knew where he lived, or she knew who he was. Ike wasn't sure which one it was, but for some reason it didn't bother him that much. He didn't see her as a threat, he saw her as a guide.
Today was different though, the notification he just received was a follow up message involving the case she tipped him off about before New Years. She'd never contacted him twice about a single assignment before, which meant his suspicions were confirmed: this was huge.
Excitedly screenshotting his monitor, Ike cropped the image and got to work printing out what he had already saved. He couldn't stop thinking about all the different things he'd have to do now that the risk levels just went up another notch or two. The case was so engrossing that Ike didn't even notice the tapping at his window. It took an actual pounding for him to turn around and notice someone perched outside.
Rushing over, Ike unlocked it with a simple flick of a switch before hastily sliding it open. Once there was enough room, his friend tumbled inside and promptly shared a couple choice words with him, "Took you long enough. In about a second or two I was about to break in!"
"Calm down, I got to you in a reasonable amount of time - all things considered." Ike shot back, practically ignoring his guest in favor of his computer. The message was still left on the screen, displayed there like a trophy of sorts. He wasn't about to exit out of it just yet, if anything he wished it could be his wallpaper. "She contacted me again, some sort of address. This is the first time she's messaged me twice during an assignment."
"Who, Barrettes-Chan?" The goth replied in annoyance, "How do you know she isn't the one who's setting all this up in the first place?"
"I doubt it." Ike shook his head, waiting for the last page to print before he gathered them together and neatly shuffled them against his desk. "She's been online ever since I started using the Internet back when I was three. She's not much older than me, so there's no way she's been responsible for all that's been going on around here."
But his friend wasn't buying it, flopping into the bed before offering Ike a cheesy grin. "You just have a crush on her! A stupid eCrush, so there's no wayyyy Ms.PerfectHacker could do ANY wrong. This has to be what, the 50th time you made an excuse for her?"
Ike's face went red. That was certainly not what this was, of course not. How could someone have a crush on someone they had never met before? Crushes were meant for brainless adolescents too distracted to care about the real world. Ike had the opposite problem, he was too distracted with the real world to even care about something as petty as an "eCrush'.
Surely that's why he was blushing. Because he was angry, not flustered.
"That's absolutely not true, Georgie." Ike replied a little too quickly, speaking mostly to himself. "The facts are there, there's no refuting them. What gave you the impression that I liked her?"
Georgie smiled back at him as innocently as possible, holding onto one of his pillows as she swayed her boots in the air. "Call it girl's intuition."
"Yes, because that's totally reliable. Ugh." Ike plopped down in his seat with an aggravated huff, spinning it around until he was facing the bed. "So did you get the money?"
"Yeah, was there any doubt in your mind?" She yanked up her patched-up bag off the floor, grabbing something inside and chucking it at her friend. "I pulled off the New Years escape plan okay, how is this any different?"
Ike flinched for a second before awkwardly fumbling with the medium-sized pouch. At least its weight seemed promising.
Shooting Georgie an unamused glare, he quickly got to work counting the money. "I didn't know you'd use a rocket, by the way, you're lucky no one got hurt. But you did get the timing down and the police never caught you, so that's ultimately why I trusted you enough to handle this job."
"I got about 4000 dollars from those drunks, how much do you need?" she asked.
"Around that. And to think it would have been wasted on alcohol." Ike confirmed the amount after flipping through all the bills, and gave her a nod in approval.
Georgie tried to keep her attention directed at Ike, but she was obviously distracted. Her eyes kept going back from his counting, to his computer screen, and then to the notes on his desk. "So what's it going towards?"
Ike wasn't at liberty to say, so he offered her a somewhat polite smile before dismissing, "I can't tell you that yet. Top secret."
That didn't work at all. In fact, that smile probably made matters worse, because in an instant Georgie was up off of his bed and seething in his face. "Hey dickface! I got you that money, I think you at LEAST owe me an explanation."
A trap door would work nicely right about now, or at least that's what Ike wished for once he had a violent, temperamental goth girl glaring down at him. He knew getting more people involved was a bad idea, but he nevertheless maintained his calm, collected disposition. "This information is strictly given out on a "Need to Know" basis. You can trust me when I say anything that's relevant to what you're doing for the case I pass on to you."
"Which so far has been jack shit! I want a bigger role, I'm obviously qualified." Georgie held onto both sides of Ike's chair and flung him around, going faster and faster at every revolution. "More than that hacker girl anyway, she shouldn't even be trusted!"
Ike gripped onto the seat of his chair for dear life, kicking at his friend at every given opportunity he had. "Georgie, you don't even know her! We've been in contact for years, I know she's trustworthy. Now stop acting like a crybaby and lets get focused on where to go from here!"
Then everything came to a screeching halt, but Ike's head was still spinning as he heard a shrill voice from overhead. "I'll show you crybaby!"
Accident at Gym class, fell down the stairs, lost a bet; Kyle had already used up all these excuses whenever he walked home with a new black eye or cut lip. Fortunately for him, Gerald and Sheila would see how smug he looked whenever it got brought up and usually stopped asking about it. If there was a fight, clearly the other guy got it worse. His parents were no advocates for violence, but Sheila on the other hand held a strict philosophy that if someone clocks you? You give it back to them ten times as hard.
Kyle too held this philosophy, and it bewildered him that Cartman hadn't caught on yet. The fucker had to be a glutton for punishment or something.
Judging by his empty driveway, his parents weren't home in time too see his cuts untreated, but Ike was surely home by now. Creeping up his front steps, Kyle glanced inside to make sure the coast was clear before fishing out his keys. No one was in the TV room, so that meant he could duck into the downstairs bathroom to patch up his wounds before his little brother would notice. Doing all this sneaky shit to dodge any accusations was annoying as fuck sometimes, but a part of Kyle still loved the thrill he got from pulling it all off in the end.
Carefully unlocking the door, Kyle bolted inside and immediately went for the bathroom. On the way there, he used his sleeve to dab at his lip, checking if there was still blood. There was nothing there, so already the signs were looking good. Once Kyle shut himself in, he made work searching for any left over bandages or antiseptic to treat the gash near his eye lid. Apparently that one was an accident, or so Cartman said, but the flimsy band aid he offered wasn't cutting it. The asshole got a busted nose for that one.
Luckily, Kyle got a hold of some medical tape and a sterile square of gauze. That was the only thing that was causing him discomfort; Cartman got the worst of it in more ways than one. Nothing felt better than coming home after a good victory over that fat Nazi, and the grin stretched across Kyle's face was quite an indicator of that.
His celebration didn't last for too long however, because as soon as his focus was off his eyebrow it was directed towards the pounding coming from upstairs. Kyle didn't even notice it at first, the only thing he cared about once he stepped into the house was clearing any and all evidence of his scramble with Cartman. Placing everything back in the cabinet, he quietly exited the bathroom and crossed the foyer to make his way up the stairs. There was a second voice coming from Ike's room, clearly someone his age. A girl his age in fact, and she sounded quite irate. What was Ike even up to in there? He was way too young to be a heartbreaker.
Throwing a wrench into Ike's little date today seemed in order. Kyle wasn't one to be a dick older brother, but he was pretty sure Ike deserved it with all this secretive bullcrap going around.
Getting to the door, Kyle pressed his ear to the wood to make sure that both Ike and his little guest were still in the midst of their argument. The key to success here was waiting it out until the moment was perfect, because seeing Ike's face go white with shock would be beyond priceless. Once their voices escalated again, Kyle made a go for it and swung open the door.
But it wasn't Ike's face that went white, it was Kyle's. Either the girl disappeared or the punk ass goth kid staring right at him threw her out the open window. He didn't even have time to ask, because right after he uttered "What the..." the hooligan made a run for it.
"Hey! Get back here you little punk!" Kyle darted into Ike's room, nearly catching the kid's leg over the window sill. Apparently someone else found out about Cartman's stashed away ladder, but by the time Kyle was leaning out of the house, the kid had already scrammed off their lawn.
Kyle was left speechless. He didn't know whether to chase after the kid or to start searching for the girl. Glancing back, Ike's deadpan expression left him no clues as they searched each other for answers. They didn't even know where to start, but Kyle was the one with questions, so with a bewildered scoff he began to rant. "I've been quiet about this shit up to now, but it's starting to get ridiculous."
"I fail to see the problem with having a friend over." Ike almost immediately shot back, seeing a possible digression and going for it. "I lost track of how many times I heard a certain someone climb into your room."
Kyle choked on his retort, ready to fervently deny his brother's accusation before remembering who he was up against. Instead of contesting it, he decided that explaining himself might be more effective when it came to something this outrageous. It worked on Stan... somewhat.
"Listen Ike, I'm able to control Cartman's unpredictable behavior by letting this happen." He started out calm, but progressively got more defensive. "Wanna know the reason why this town isn't up in smoke? Because he's preoccupied now. But as far as your little friend goes? Don't think I didn't see that punk at the New Years Party after the rocket hit."
"You can't prove that, and I know very well why this town hasn't gone up in smoke yet." Ike eyed Kyle once over, grimacing once he caught sight of his brother's new cuts and bruises. "By the way, it has nothing to do with Cartman. So you really don't have to put yourself through that."
It was a curse now. Whenever Kyle tried to stay focused on the point of discussion it would ALWAYS fall back on his thing with Cartman. Whoever he was talking to made him feel like he didn't even have ground to stand on anymore by saying something like, 'You think I shouldn't do this? Well you're fucking Cartman so obviously I shouldn't listen to you.' This is what he was afraid of, but Kyle wasn't about to let his own brother use this against him. "Okay, we're not turning this around on me. I'm aware of my own shit, but we're talking about you now. What's going on Ike? Why am I hearing that you're having this kid run around stealing money for you?"
"To be honest, I didn't know the money would be necessarily stolen. I was only told that today, but I guess it's for a good cause." Ike replied, seemingly ashamed.
"How."
The younger boy brushed that off and asked Kyle his own question. "First you tell me how you found out about the money."
But Kyle wasn't in the mood to play games, "You can't hide things from me Ike, I'm your big brother. I'll find out about everything eventually, so you should fess up now to save us some time."
"Nothing I'm doing is worse than the stuff you did when you were my age." Ike said with conviction.
Taken aback, Kyle was genuinely perplexed as to why Ike seemed so reluctant to share this information with him. There was no reason for him to inject that amount of venom in his reply; it's not like he was his brother or anything. Kyle wanted some real answers, so he resorted to kneeling in front of Ike's chair in the hopes of seeing eye to eye with him. "Why do you think I fought so hard back then Ike? I didn't want you to end up having a crappy childhood like I had! I dreamed of the day you could go outside and not have to worry about getting thrown into some car to solve a mystery or waking up to find yourself in the middle of a nuclear holocaust!"
Ike could tell that Kyle was getting desperate, and he hated to see his brother so distraught. There was a time and a place for guessing games, and this was definitely not one of those times. He didn't want to perpetuate additional concern, which meant he needed to give in a little.
"Do you miss it?"
"What?" The older boy reeled his head back, not expecting to be confronted with that sort of question.
"I asked, do you miss it?"
Kyle could feel his hairs stand on end as he got up off the ground. The crazy thing was he didn't even know how to answer! Considering his disappointing vigilante stints and the whole thing with Cartman, Kyle knew there was something obviously wrong with him, but it just couldn't be this.
"Fuck no! You think I miss risking my life on a daily basis while the rest of the world panics to find a solution that's right in front of their eyes? Hell no! It sucks to be only one who makes sense. Especially when everyone else fails to realize it until the LAST fucking second! Sometimes it's exhausting to be the one who's right all the time! Sometimes you just need a break from it all!"
Ike appeared to be pleased with that response, so with a turn of his chair he went back to fiddling with his notes. "Exactly, so take your break Kyle. It's fine."
Kyle actually found himself pacing by the end of his rant. Only when he forced himself to stop did he pause to consider what his brother just implied. "Are... you telling me that there's still somethin-"
"Take your break, Kyle." The younger boy cut off in a rather snippet tone, glancing at the door to indicate this was no longer up for debate.
As tempting as it was to push the issue, Kyle knew that Ike wasn't going to budge. If there was one person more stubborn than he was, it was his little brother. There was just something to this secret that Ike desperately wanted to keep to himself, which made cracking it even more enticing.
Kyle had a sinking feeling that Ike signed up for something he just couldn't handle, at least that would explain why he kept getting pushed away. First he was reluctant to explain the rocket and now he was making excuses for his involvement in the pick pocketing scheme. There was something terribly wrong going on here, and clearly Ike didn't want to own up to his mistakes. All the pieces were finally coming together, and now Kyle was convinced that he'd have to be the one to finish this puzzle.
Now knowing what he must do, the older boy released a loud sigh before making his way out the door. He had to feign resignation for now, otherwise Ike would catch on and there would be no way to save him from his own undoing. Keeping that in mind, Kyle made sure to seal the deal by scowling at him, but then closed the door before eagerly bolting back to his room.