well kids, it's not shakespeare, mmkay, but it was fun. and that's what counts, mmmmkay?
Maybe it was that she was an outsider in their little group, maybe it was because she was a girl. Or maybe she was just smarter than they were, but Wendy seemed to notice things about her boyfriend and his gang that they were completely oblivious to.
Such as the fact that Kyle would always come first to Stan. She knew it -- they denied it, and they seemed to believe it, but she knew it was true. And it didn't bother her. Stan loved her, she didn't doubt that... it was just that he loved Kyle more, and always had, and always would. It didn't take a genius to figure it out. All you had to do was look at the way his jaw tensed in anger whenever Cartman became extra malicious, and the way he would jerk slightly, as if ready to leap to his feet, when Kyle was distressed. It was in the way he smiled back into those green-grey eyes -- not how he looked into hers, with adoration and desire, but with such perfect comfort and affection that it seemed to transcend love. She was sure Kyle could walk off a cliff without a trace of fear if his best friend was there, because Stan would never let him hit the ground.
And then there was Kenny, who everyone dismissed as a slut, crude and lazy and handsome and wild – and it was all true, she supposed – but he was so much more than he got credit for. Did no one else notice that strange sheen to his blue eyes, that glimmer that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up? Did no one else pause to think that here was a boy who had been to hell and back, literally? Kenny had seen the dead. Kenny walked between two worlds. And yet he was written off as a druggie with a nice smile and an appetite for wild sex. Wendy was not sure how to go about saying it, to Stan or to anyone, but she thought – honestly believed – he might be an angel. It was the vastness she felt when she looked into his face, and he looked straight back without laughing; sometimes he looked otherworldly, and even the orange jacket seemed God-sent.
Of course, in South Park, no one would notice an angel even if he sprouted wings right before their eyes. In South Park seeing Jesus walk down the street didn't turn heads.
And in South Park she seemed to be the only one who could notice a neo-Nazi fall in love with a Jew.
Was everyone really so blind? Cartman's cruelty, his extra evil that he seemed to spare for Kyle and only Kyle, was not just a side effect of bigotry. It was so obvious! The way his grey eyes would narrow into glittering slits, filled with hatred and yet unable to tear themselves from Kyle's face – how could Stan not notice? The slight look of delighted shock whenever they touched, the sudden expression of wild elation when for some reason he managed to make Kyle laugh, the almost unbelievable bursts of loathing... to her, it was plain as day.
They were so stupid, those four boys. Sometimes she wanted to just tell them, and then wait and see what happened.
"Stan, I'm going to shoot Kyle, or myself. Yes, I mean it. Choose one. You can save him, or me. Pick."
"Look at Kenny, you fucking shitheads, look at him! Those are eyes that have seen heaven. Don't you realize what he is?"
"Kyle, Cartman loves you. He really does. You can stop worrying, he would never do the things he says, because he couldn't live without you."
"And Cartman... Jews are human, just like you or I. Stop being a dick, and get it into your head. It's okay to love him."
But she always kept quiet in the end, because some things are better left unsaid. It would all unfold in time, she was sure.
reviewwwww s'il vous plait.....