My friends tell me that I need to take more responsibility.
Well, I'd like to see them in my shoes for a day. I'd like to see them living the farthest from everyone else, struggling their way through the fresh foot high snow and the frustration of missing the bus by a traffic light.
Hey.
I'm Stan Marsh, and I'm late for school.
Again.
It's not like it's my fault, I swear. I woke up really late today because I couldn't hear my alarm clock. My sister, Shelley, threw a fit because she heard it down the hall and woke up. She, naturally, punched me in the face and yelled, "Wake up turd!" in my ear. Then she proceeded to smash my beeping device into the wall. I was shocked at first, but I was so tired that I went back to sleep. So really, it's not my fault. My sister destroyed my only source of waking.
Why are you so tired, you might ask. Well I must warn you, it's an incredibly fast-paced summary of what happened to me yesterday. When I mean incredibly fast-paced, I mean like super duper ultra heavy rapid godspeed pace. I'm not even kidding here. It went a little something like this:
I had a paper due today. And, knowing me, I procrastinated until the last hour. I am not joking man; ever since freshman year, we had to submit our papers in electronically. It's some new shit the mayor is forcing on the school in order to be more "with the times" she said. Something about preventing plagiarism. It's fucking me over man. There's no more submitting an essay in when school starts and tweaking it a little, no. It's all typing it on the computer and submitting it before the site shuts down and you get a big fat zero. And if you don't have internet, you're fucking screwed. And my essay was due at four in the morning.
Believe me, I had to bullshit my way through English this year. You know when your brain goes blank when you're trying to finish an essay? It's like that for me except it goes blank before I even start. Before the teacher even tells me about the assignment, I'm blank. I'm remotely shocked to see that I'm still passing. Barely.
Okay, coming back onto topic now. So I was super tired about the essay thing.
What made it worse was that it was Kyle's birthday too.
He and I were planning a whole night out to Denver instead of staying in South Park. We were planning for weeks. When the time finally came, I flunked out.
"I can't go with you, Kyle." I told him when he showed up at my door, wearing fresh new clothes. I was still in my greasy football gear.
"What? Haha, nice joke Stan!" He laughed and put his hand on my shoulder. "I can wait for you to shower and shit, but damn, I didn't know football practice was going to be that long. You should've texted me or something!"
"... Kyle. Seriously, I can't go." I looked at the floor to avoid watching his smile turn into a frown.
"Dude." he replied, a tone of annoyance in his voice.
"I didn't do the English paper."
"You can finish when we get home, or I can wait until you're done; I mean, it's not like you didn't even start right?"
I couldn't reply. I felt the whole Jew wrath coming.
"Stan?"
"I didn't start Kyle, goddamn! I totally forgot about it!"
"Stan! You dick, we got that assignment like two weeks ago!"
"Look, I'm sorry but I don't want to fail English. Can't we do this thing like, on the weekend or something?"
"My birthday is today, not the weekend! Besides, you promised me! We promised on today! Stop giving me excuses!"
"Kyle if you cared about me you would help me with my English, and then - "
"No, shut the fuck up!" His eyebrows arched in anger. "You're always doing this to me! First 'let's go out' and then the minute before 'oh I can't since I'm such a lazy dick that I didn't even start on schoolwork'! And then you ask for help? How fucking selfish are you?"
"Don't scold me Kyle! You're always the one going on about how important school work is so why don't you understand that - "
"Understand? Understand?" Kyle's arms flung out in exasperation. "Dude! Do you know what this is about? Do you even know why I'm angry? Do you?"
"Yes, but I - "
"No. Fuck this, and fuck you. Good fucking luck with your paper. I'm tired of your shit man. Stop giving me excuses and take some damn responsibility for once!" He slammed the door in my face, making the door frame shake. Out from the window I could see him kicking his way back home.
Okay, I admit I was a total fuckhead with this one, but it gets worse, watch.
Wendy texted me as soon as I went back upstairs and sat on the computer. Now, Wendy and I have decided it would never work out between us. Honestly, the whole boyfriend girlfriend on and off thing got to be extremely irritating. She went her way and I went mine. Wendy started to date Token for about two years, but then Token broke up with her when a rumour went around about her cheating with Eric. I kind of thought it was inevitable; I mean, Eric and Wendy had the same classes. I once questioned Eric about it and he practically answered my questions when he became defensive. Wendy surprisingly took it well when Token left her. She never really talks to me or Token anymore, so it really surprised me when I read her text.
"Stan could you meet me at my house ASAP?"
At first I thought it was a joke. I mean... what? She's the one who won't even look at me in school anymore but now she's asking me to meet her? Bewildered, I came back to my senses and texted back:
"Uh... y?"
Her answer came almost immediately.
"Please, I need your help right now."
"I'm busy."
"Stan! I'm begging you, don't do this to me! Please!"
I stared at the screen that blared its blue lights back at me.
"K fine I'll be there in like 10 minutes"
I didn't even get the shower I wanted. I just changed into a more comfortable attire and grabbed my jacket and walked out the door, the same way Kyle had left not even five minutes earlier.
Her house wasn't far from mine, but it did take a while because I had to march my way through the snow. The door opened before I even knocked, and a long haired woman embraced me and pushed her mouth onto mine.
Woah.
I have to admit, I kind of enjoyed it. After Wendy, I didn't date anyone else. It was like, a nostalgic feeling. I let her smother her lips onto my mouth, before I realized that we were still outside, and people could see us. I pushed her back and she looked into my eyes before offering me inside.
We sat down on her living room couch. I guess her parents aren't home.
"What do you need me for so bad?" I inquired.
"Do you want something to drink?" She asked out of the blues.
"Uh... no, I was going to leave soon."
"No!" She almost screamed, and grabbed my arm.
"W-What?" I tried to peel her off with my other arm.
"Stan, I need help."
"Okay, I know, but what though?"
"I'm pregnant."
Words couldn't come out for a moment.
"B-But how? W-We never... did it..."
"It's not yours, it's Eric's."
Anger replaced shock.
"Excuse me?"
"Eric and I... we've been doing it for a while, alright?" Wendy's mouth was like a raging storm of confessions. "I told him, Stan! I told him! But he said that it was my problem, and that he won't support me and the kid. I need someone to support us, Stan. I need you to support me. Please."
My brain almost died of irony. Wendy Testaburger, the school president, the goody-two-shoes, the one who preached about safe sex since middleschool, was sleeping with Eric and is pregnant. Well duh Eric won't support Wendy; as far as I could tell, Eric just likes hitting pussies. He just didn't want anyone to know because it would ruin his reputation. Eric Cartman, the most classy senile Nazi lover, going around having cheap bare girls on his dick. I sense another dose of irony riling up my laughter.
"This is almost funny."
"Stan!" Her eyes welled up.
"Tell me, have you been doing it with Eric even when we were dating?"
She fell silent, and looked onto the floor. It was like when Kyle had me feeling guilty.
"Whore."
"Sorry?" She looked at me again, as if she wasn't paying any attention to me.
"You're a whore, Wendy. A big fat penis licking whore."
"Stan - I could do it with you too, you don't understand - "
I was tempted to hit her. But all I could do was yell.
"Listen, I'm not your last resort okay? Don't use those excuses. You broke up with me, you never talked to me, and now you want me to support you? How fucking pathetic."
"Don't scold me Stan, it was hard for me."
"This was your decision, not mine. I wouldn't support you even if you were the last girl on earth. You dirty, fucking whore."
"What about all those years, don't they mean anything to you?" She sobbed, tears running like rivers down her face. "I loved you Stan! I really did! But I got so consumed with him that I - Oh, Stan, please! You don't understand, I need you more than ever - "
"You're the one who doesn't understand, Wendy. The answer is no. I'm not your last resort, and please don't ever talk to me again. Like that will be hard for you." I got up and turned to leave, but Wendy grabbed for my arms again.
"Staaaan!" She wailed my name. "Staaaaaan! Staaan, no, please!"
I shoved her off and she collapsed, crying on the floor. I walked out the door and slammed it behind me. Relief was mixed with pity. Relief that I finally got rid of her, but pity because of her actions. I would have gladly skipped home if it wasn't for a certain blonde wasn't looking my way across the street. I casually crossed and was about to greet him, but Kenny had a stern look on his face. I was about to question why but he spoke first.
"Why did you come out of Wendy's house just now?"
"I..." It must've looked very suspicious, I'm aware, but I was a little surprised and the words would not form.
"Kyle just called me." He said calmly, displeasure subtly showing off in his eyes. "Said something about you bailing out because of that English paper."
"Oh, well, it's not what it looks like, honestly."
"Said something about you bailing. Because of English." He repeated, venom lacing his voice.
"Kenny, it's not - "
"He was crying, you know. And you look like you were sweating not too long ago. Doing god know what."
Oh shit. I guess I still look like what I look like from football practice.
"Look, Kenny, I can explain. She texted me suddenly to come over as soon as Kyle left and - "
"And you went?" Kenny's face was twisted in disgust. I felt my relief morph into shame. "You went when Wendy texts you randomly, but you don't run after Kyle who you promised for weeks to take out today, which is his birthday, when you tell him you have to finish your homework?"
"Listen, goddamnit!" I tried to reason with him, but Kenny put up his hand to silence me.
"Enough with the excuses, Stan. I'm tired of it. Kyle's tired of it. You know, I was on my way to Kyle's house to cheer him up. Don't bother following. You fucked up royally."
Kenny brushed my shoulder and continued to walk off. I wanted to run after him, I wanted to pass him and reach Kyle first before Kenny tells him I just came out of Wendy's house, but my legs wouldn't move. And I know, even though I "fucked up royally" now, I would seriously be insanely fucked up tomorrow, when Kyle learns everything. I ordered my legs to move, but they wouldn't. They couldn't.
Instead they drove me in the opposite direction, finalizing the decision that I have made.
For the whole night, I was blank. I couldn't concentrate on my paper, I could only visualize the three incidents today: Kyle angrily storming off, Wending sprawled on the floor crying, and Kenny scolding me. I was scared at the sheer cruelty fate has played on me. The time with Wendy almost paralleled my time with Kyle, except in different roles. Kenny made me realize my stupidity, and was probably what Kyle should've done to me. As if both my friends weren't pissed off with me. I figured Wendy deserved it, asking me to be her knight in shining armour after years of ignoring me and sleeping with Cartman. How could I get so fucked in one day, you ask? I give you the answer: welcome to South Park.
In the end I wrote the most bullshit paper ever. Submitted it, jumped into bed, but not without a good remorseful sob. I was exhausted and I drifted into unconsciousness freely.
But here I am now. I missed the bus again by like five seconds because I couldn't run in the thick snow. I had to walk to school. And school was almost a mile from here. I would mention that karma was out to get me right now, but it's whatever. Happens to me more than once a week, I'm afraid.
So there you have it.
My friends tell me to stop with the excuses and take responsibility. I turned it around and told my ex the same thing. I think I learned my lesson for the year, but I can't acknowledge it right now.
... because right now, I need to think of an excuse to why I'm late for school.