i

"What did you think about the speaker?"

"I thought she was gay."

"You would say something like that, Cartman." Kyle Broflowski returned.

Stan Marsh, the inquirer, exhaled sharply. Having seen this for over eight years, he knew where this was going.

"What do you mean, Kyle?"

"That woman was just talking to us about our college options. It's supposed to help us. Someone trying to do something nice for you, someone trying to help you, is automatically gay to you."

Stan regretted asking, and turned his attention to his lunch.

"I bet you don't even know what you want to do when you graduate! You're just scared because you'll be graduating this year!"

"For your information, butt munch, I do know what I want to do!"

"What? Be a fat asshole and live with your mom forever?"

"And what, Kyle? I suppose you're gonna be a Jew lawyer like your daddy?"

"At least I have a dad!"

"Guys, seriously, shut the fuck up." Stan injected blandly.

Kyle paused to look at his best friend. His gaze was directed resolutely away from their lunch group and his food had hardly been touched. "Are you okay, dude?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

Kyle figured he'd inquire deeper later. "Cartman, what do you want to do?"

"I'm going to school for journalism."

"Journalism?" Kyle was taken aback.

"Are you going to dig deep into controversial stories for the truth and be advocate for the underdog?" Kenny chimed in.

"Fuck no." Cartman laughed. "I'm going to print and tell people whatever the hell I want. I'll gain their trust and love slowly. And one day, I'll be Larry King or Katie Courick. People everywhere will wait for my option on things and believe me without a second thought. And before long… I'll be…"

"You're going into journalism to manipulate the media and gain control over the public?" Kyle asked.

"Of course, Kyle. It's why everyone goes into journalism." Cartman stated simply before finishing his milk.

"I'm going into the military." Kenny announced.

"You're going into the service, dude?" Stan asked. "Aren't you afraid of dying?"

"Not really." Kenny replied.

"Are you going to take over your father's business and be a Jew lawyer?" Cartman questioned Kyle.

"Actually, no. Ike can do that. I know what I want to do."

"What?" Stan asked.

"I want to be a psychiatrist."

"You what?" Cartman inquired. "You want to be a psychiatrist?"

"Yeah, I do. Why?"

"Should have figured you'd be a doctor, but a crazy doctor?"

"It's a growing business and I think I'd be good at it! You really could use therapist yourself fatass!"

"What the fuck do I need therapy for? There's nothing wrong with me!"

"You want to go into a career to control massive groups of people! You're a narcissist. You're controlling. You're manipulative. And you won't even admit it! Do you know why, Cartman? Because you lack a stable home environment. Your mother sleeps around and you don't have a paternal figure. You seek to control things and people to establish power that you yourself lack. You will continue like this through the rest of your life, never able to have a healthy relationship with another until you admit that you have a problem and seek help for it."

The group was silent for a moment.

"Uhm… Stan, what do you want to do?" Cartman resolutely asked.

"Goddamn it, you sick fat fuck!"

"I don't know." Stan admitted quietly.

"What do you mean?" Kenny questioned.

"I don't know what I want to do."

"Well, well, well," Cartman began. "Looks like the cock-jock Stan doesn't really have everything together."

"It's okay, Stan." Kyle offered. "A lot of people don't know what they want to do. I really only think I know because I've been around so many mentally ill people in my life."

"Yeah, okay." Stan stood up, shoved his hands in his pockets and left the cafeteria.

"Dude, what the hell?" Cartman started.

"Just drop it. He doesn't want to talk right now. Give him some space." Kyle immediately came to Stan's defense.

"Jesus, dude. Don't give yourself a stroke. I was just saying he didn't have to walk out like a little bitch."

The three continued lunch in relative silent until the bell rang and they headed to their last classes of the day.

While Kyle didn't get a chance to see Stan until school was over, but it was all he thought about through the remainder of the day. He contemplated how he'd talk to him, how he'd tiptoe around the subject for a while and try to get it off his mind before he'd comfort him. He'd tell him it really wasn't fair for him to expect to know what he wants to do with the rest of his life and when the time is right, he'll know exactly what he wants.

"Not staying after for football today?" Kyle asked as he approached Stan's car in the parking lot.

"No, I just feel like going home today."

"Mind if I come with you? We can play some video games or something?"

"I just wanna be alone."

"I know, and that's why I want to come over."

"Dude…" Stan started.

"I know you're upset about today and I… wanna hang out. You know, take your mind off it for a while. It's not really a big deal. You know, it's not uncommon…"

"Just don't talk about psychology, okay? Or how it's normal or whatever."

Kyle paused and resolutely looked at the ground before returning Stan's stare. "Okay, dude. I won't."

The ride home was short, but Stan kept quiet, leaving Kyle to stew in the awkward tension.

The first one to break the silence was Stan's mother when the two walked in the door. "How was your day, Sta- oh, Kyle!"

The redhead smiled. "Hello Mrs. Marsh."

"Will you be staying for dinner tonight?"

"Stan, is it cool if I stay?"

The inquired party had already shed his coat and was halfway up the stairs. "Sure."

"If you and your husband would have me, I'd be glad to."

"You know we'd love to Kyle." She waited for Stan's bedroom door to shut before asking, "Did Stan have a bad day?"

"Sort of, but that's why I came over."

"You're such a good friend to him, Kyle."

He smiled and went upstairs. Cautiously, he knocked.

"Dude, why the hell did you knock?" Stan asked as he flopped on his bed.

"I just didn't want to intrude. You stormed off."

"I wanted to be alone."

"I know." Kyle sighed and sat at the foot of Stan's bed to look back at him.

"Then why'd you insist on coming with me?" His response was venom.

"Because I care about you, goddamn it!"

Stan averted his gaze but for the few moments when they were quiet, Kyle kept his eyes consistently on the raven haired teen.

"Why did you want to be alone tonight?" Kyle asked.

"I thought you weren't going to do this psychiatrist shit?"

"I'm not! I'm just fucking curious."

"I wanted to try to figure out what the hell I want to do with my life!"

"Because you can do that in a night!"

"Well, at least I could start!"

"I can help you, dumbass."

"What if I don't want your help?"

Kyle dug his nails into the palm of his hand. "Then, I guess I'll just go." He stood and headed for the door resolutely.

"Wait, dude." Stan followed him. "At least, let me drive you."

"No, I'm fine." And with that, Kyle slammed the door to the Marsh house and began to walk the three blocks to his house.

"Is Kyle not staying for dinner?" Stan's mother asked from the kitchen.

"Not tonight."

As soon as Kyle's palms started to bleed, he slowed his pace. He realized that this could be seen as ridiculous to most people, but… goddamn it. He and Stan had been friends for… since… since he could fuckin' remember. Stan should know that he was sensitive by now.

No, he wasn't sensitive. Fuck that. He wasn't sensitive. Stan was important to him, and he should know that. He should know that Stan was more than just important to him. I mean, it's obvious. Who the hell else would he do that for? Kyle just wouldn't go home with some other kid who was having a bad day unless he really freaking cared about him. Not when he had homework to do, video games to play, chores to do, or fuck!

Stan should know he's the most important person to him his this goddamn world.

"Motherfucker," Kyle cursed as he walked into his house.

"Stan, how was your day?" His mother asked as he sat down to dinner. With Shelly at college, and his grandfather having past, it was just the three of them. The house never felt lonely until the burden of dinner conversation fell onto him. His life just really wasn't that goddamn interesting.

"Okay."

"Anything happen?"

"No," He said, hoping she wouldn't question anymore when he had a mouthful of meatloaf.

"Why did Kyle leave?"

"Dunno." Stan swallowed. "His mom called and needed something."

"Oh, that's too bad. I like having Kyle over. He's always been so polite."

"Yeah, I like Kyle too. He's a good friend to you, Stan." Randy commented between spoonfuls of mashed potatoes.

"Yeah, well, he'll be here again soon." Stan mused.

"I hope so! We were going to have breakfast for dinner, but when I saw him, I made something kosher."

Stan began idly stabbing his meatloaf. He knew Kyle was just trying to help, but he just wanted to be alone to figure this out. Kyle already knew what he wanted to do, and he probably had for a while. Cartman too. And Kenny, fuck, wasn't his father in the army or something?

"Delicious potatoes, Sharon." Randy said as he had another helping.

How the hell was he supposed to know what he wanted to do? I mean, he wasn't especially good at anything. He played football and soccer, and he was decent at that but not star quality or anything close. And since he was in sports, he had to keep his grades up. While that was a pain, it wasn't really challenging either. Math was the worst, so he didn't take anything past algebra II. History was second because it was mostly memorization, which was a pain in the ass. English wasn't hard, but it wasn't enjoyable either- I mean, who the hell likes diagraming sentences? Science came easy to him - his father's geology background didn't hurt - but he certainly didn't like it.

"I added some garlic." Sharon beamed.

A lot of people go into business management. The idea of wearing a suit everyday had a certain allure of professionalism to it, but mostly due to the fact that these ideas involved him driving a beamer and owning a yacht. Who was he kidding? What kind of business would he have? Fuck that. Too much tedious work. Images of Japanese business men offing themselves briefly filled his mind, before he decided to forget that idea completely.

"Very nice!" His father complimented. "Someone's been watching the food network!"

Shelly was going to be a teacher. That seemed promising. The west was in need of teachers. Stan would only be able to deal with older kids. So, a high school teacher. He could teach science. That would make his dad proud. And he wouldn't have to learn more. But… oh, fuck that sounds so gay. He'd never what to be a teacher. Who the hell would want to deal with kids like him everyday?

"Well, I have to have something to do during the day!" His mother laughed.

"Haha," Randy chuckled. "Well, Stan, you don't seem to agree with us. You've hardly even touched your dinner."

"Yeah. I know."

"What happened today, Stan?"

He took a deep breath. "We just had an assembly on what to look into when we look at colleges, and stuff and everyone knows what they want to be, and I just… don't."

"Oh, honey! That's not true!" Sharon comforted. "I'm sure plenty of kids at your school don't know what they want to do."

"No, Kenny, and Cartman, and Kyle even know what they want to do."

"Oh, what does Kyle want to do?" His mother asked.

"He wants to be a psychiatrist."

"Oh, wow!" Sharon exclaimed.

"I can see him doing that." Randy commented. "He'd be a really good therapist."

"I know Stan sure goes to him with his problems!" His mother smiled.

"Jesus! Do you guys want me to marry Kyle?" Stan stood and screamed.

Both his parents stared at him for a moment, as Stan tried to calm his heart rate.

"Not really." Randy returned.

"I'm going upstairs." Stan pushed in his chair and stated.

"You should probably apologize to Kyle too." His mother added as he left the kitchen.

"Goddamn it, mom." He snorted under his breath.

Kyle got out of the shower and sighed. Usually, a shower would energize him, which is why he normally showered in the mornings. But tonight, it just gave him more time to think about Stan and now, all he wanted to do was go to sleep.

He made a big deal of out something that's normal for guys. Guys don't have feelings. And when they do, they want to ignore them. Not fucking talk about them! That's what fags did!

Stan wasn't a fag.

And Kyle… fuck.

The shrill tone of his phone's ring cut off his thoughts.

"Hi mom." He answered.

"Kyle, bubbi, are you home?"

"Yeah, where are you?"

"I had to take Ike to Jew Scouts because your father was at the office late with some clients."

"Oh, okay then."

"Have you eaten dinner? There's leftover soup in the fridge."

"No, not yet."

"Oh, why not? It's almost seven! Aren't you hungry?"

"Not really. I don't feel well, ma."

"Oh my, what's wrong, dear?"

"It's just - hold on, I'm getting another call."

It was Stan.

"You can just go then, sweetie. I love you! I'll see you tonight."

"Love you too mom." Kyle quickly switched over and then attempted to hide that he wasn't thinking about the party calling him all night. "Hey."

"Hey dude. How are you?" Stan asked softly.

"I'm okay. How are you?"

"I want to apologize for today. I was just… pissed off."

"I know, dude. I shouldn't have been so pushy if you didn't want to talk."

"You were just trying to help though. My mom was even telling me tonight what a good friend you were and I realized how important you are to me."

"Aah-" Kyle was about to say something but he choked up. "Y-you're important to me too, Stan."

"And I wanted to say something else too."

"What?"

"Would you counsel me?"

"Ah-what?" Kyle stammered.

"I mean, this year's going to be rough. And I know you'd be good at it. You could get some practice and maybe I can learn something too."

Kyle exhaled. "I'd love to, dude."

Maybe they'd both learn something…