Stan is a poor 13 year old boy. He lost his mother and he barely goes to school. But then a new light shines when a new student(Kyle) moves to town and becomes part of Stan's life. Now Stan can't stop thinking about him and it gets to the point that he's overly obsessed! Will Stan keep his emotions bottled up, while Kyle gets closer and closer to him or will he flat out tell Kyle he loves him? Takes place in early 1900s (ish very weird like that)

His chest pounded heavily as he gasped in between breathing. The rain crashed painfully onto his bare arms as he ran in a dark alleyway in the middle of the night. His breathe showed itself in the cold, dead winter. He placed his foot in a deep, muddy puddle and it grabbed his leg, sending him to the brittle floor. The boy let out a giant 'oof' as his soft skin scraped against the ground. He lay there for five minutes or so until he found enough strength to lift himself halfway off the wet, hole-infested, stoned alleyway. He cursed under his cold breathe and pulled himself together and ran more to a small house and shoved open the lockless door. He plopped his body on the filthy, black (once light brown) flooring and dozed off into sleep.

The sunlight beamed lightly through the opened window and settled on thirteen year old Stanley Marsh's right cheek. He groaned slightly and slowly opened his pale blue eyes. He saw a tall, black shadow in front of him. The man grabbed him by his messy, raven hair and tugged him up forcefully. Stan felt pain and flinched a little, but it wouldn't matter because this happened most of the time.

"Get up. Today is Thursday, and this is the day you can go to school. I'm so disappointed in you. If only your mother was still here. Then we would probably have a house, but her death is mostly your fault." The man was very tall, dead black hair, a mustache that looked like a bushy rectangle, and a buttoned down worn-out shirt and khaki pants. He was Stan's father, Randy Marsh. Stan's thin lips formed a frown at what his father had said to him.

"That's a lie…" he said very softly hoping his hurtful flesh and blood wouldn't hear him.

"What was that, boy?"

"I didn't say anything, father." Mr. Marsh wrapped his fingers tightly around Stan's hair and threw him against their poorly built wall.

"Good! Now you better get dressed and get the hell outta my house!" Scared by his father's outburst, Stan hurriedly got dressed and flew out the door.

Stan had arrived at South Park 8th grade schoolhouse which was about twenty long minutes of walking. He gazed at how beautiful and clean his school was and compared it to the dump he lives in now. He entered the giant school doors and walked into his (and the only) classroom. There he saw some of his classmates talking, stealing things from the teacher, fighting, or making Kenneth McCormick devour non-edible items for money.

He gently placed his books at his desk and sat quietly in his seat. His eyes wandered back and forth until he saw the teacher, Mr. (or right now Mrs.) Garrison, talking to the school principal. Next to her was a small figure that Stanley couldn't seem to recognize.

"Alright, children, get back to your seats. We have a new student today." Whispers from the back of the class were being heard by Stan's ears. He heard things like, "I wonder if it's a boy or girl…" or "I hope they're cute!" and then there was "I wonder if he likes Jesus…" Stan really wasn't interested by all the nonsense. Mrs. Garrison coughed irritatingly to get the teenagers attentions back to him.

"As I was saying, he comes from a very rich family and has transferred here from North Park Private High." Stan's eyes widened until they were almost as big as two baseballs. Why was someone from NPPH the biggest school in Colorado coming to a little worthless school like his? "Please welcome our newest student, Kyle Brofloski."

A slim, short (about 5'3), pale boy entered the class. He had no facial expression on his face. The kid just frowned and stared blankly. He had calm, silky, red curls overlapping his head. He wore an orange shirt and black pants that tightened its grip on his legs as he walked. His emerald green eyes kept staring at the room full of kids his age.

Stan had never seen someone look so, well so beautiful. Kyle's big eyes flew from one side to class and spotted Stan. Stan blushed a light pink and turned his head away. A giant grin planted itself on Kyle's pink, clean lips.

"Would you like to say anything about yourself or anything to one of the students?"

"Yes, I would." His voice signaled a chill in Stan's body. The hair rose up behind his neck as he shivered.

"Are you afraid of me? Or is it something else? I want to know." Stan looked back at Kyle, whose eyes were still glued on Stan. "Yes, I'm talking to you. Now, answer me…"

Stan still kept his mouth shut. He was still trapped inside Kyle's cleanliness. The ringing alarm of the school bell took place and everyone turned themselves to the teacher.

"Well, I guess you'll have to save that question for another time. Now for a seat." Mrs. Garrison gave the small room a quick glance and found an empty desk in the back of the room. She pointed her finger to guide Kyle to his seat. He threw his books in the desk and looked back at her.

The classroom was very tight and small. The school days started from seven in the morning till noon. It was a one room school and after you graduated there, you would have to come back for next year. Once you turn fifteen, then you were allowed to enter the high school all the way downtown. Stan sat in the first row all the way to the right. He liked it there considering that the teacher's desk was on the front, left side of the class, and there were things piled in front of him so Mrs. Garrison couldn't see him. That meant she wouldn't be able to call on him. He wouldn't mind if the teacher did call on him, but he thought that he wouldn't get a single question right because he only goes to school twice a week.

Stan drifted his mind away from his school work and thought about Kyle. 'I have never seen anyone so perfect.' His eyes drooped slowly as he went deeper into thought. 'I could never imagine myself being like him.' Stan felt his head moving up and down, pulling him into sleep.

"Ow!" Stan rubbed the back of his head several times and looked behind his small back. A poorly crumbled piece a paper was thrown at him and was lightly placed on top of his bony butt.

"Is there something you want to say to the classroom, Mr. Marsh?" He quickly pulled his face in front of him and saw his creepy, transgender teacher staring him down.

"N-No. Sorry."

"Fag!" An Enormously Fat kid called out. Everyone, well almost everyone, started laughing at the helpless boy. Stan put his head down in embarrassment and covered his face with his hands.

"Okay, Eric Cartman. That was not necessary." Mrs. Garrison replied.

"What did he ever do to you?" Cartman's ears perked up and force his body to face behind him. Kyle's face was filled with anger and he called out to the much larger boy again. "Hmm…? What just because he acts normal you have to say something cruel? Well, you know what? I bet your mom is on the cover of Crack-Whore magazine." Crazed laughter filled the school even more. Cartman was speechless and pouted as he turned back to face the chalk covered blackboard.

"Alright, children! Hush!" The boys and girls zipped there mouths tight as Mrs. Garrison grasped their attention. Stan's face was still tucked inside his old, dark, dirty brown jacket, but he could see below him. He grabbed the crumbled paper ball and pulled it open. He pressed down on the paper, trying to smooth out the wrinkles. His eyes skimmed through the sheet once and he stopped to read it at his normal pace.

'Meet me at the back of the school, when class is over.

I need to ask you something. Oh, and what's your name? Write it on the back of this paper.

Kyle, the new kid'

Stan's cheeks showed very light pink in them and he shoved the paper in his coat pocket.

'Why does he want to talk to me? Me?! At of all the people he can speak to, it has to be me?!' Stan reached in his book bag for either a pen or pencil. He smiled as he felt a small, skinny dull pointed pencil and he gradually pulled it up. The pencil was very much dead, but he still managed to use it. He took the paper back out and spread it out on his desk and flipped it over. He started jotting down poorly written letters, but they somehow could be readable.

'Stanley Marsh? Why do you want to speak to me?' He smashed the paper back into a ball and when the teacher's eyes were on the blackboard, Stan tossed the paper back at Kyle. Several moments later, a piece of paper came flying back towards Stan and this time he noticed it coming.

'I like you, Stanley. A lot. And I want to get to know you better? Are you okay with that?'

Stan turned his head until it was facing Kyle's desk. Kyle twitched and looked up to see his 'pen pal' looking at him. Stan smiled sweetly but nervously at Kyle when he smiled back, but his was more settle and gentle. Stan then mouthed the words,

'Yeah, I'm okay with that.'