The story I'm about to tell you is not an original one. It's pretty embarrassingly cliché, actually. But I think there's a reason for that; it's realistic. Happens all the time, yeah? Kids grow up, their interests and lives change, and so do their friends. Being considered the 'smart one' for years, you think I would have seen it coming, but I didn't even notice till it was too late.
And it blows. Was I really ever naïve enough to think that it wouldn't happen to us? It makes my stomach twist when I think about it, because what if there something I could have done? But I don't think it was anyone's fault, it just sort of happened, and that's too bad, because I wish I had something to blame it on other than fate.
It guess it all started Sophomore year of High School. Being the unfortunate child of an over demanding mother, I was enrolled in honors classes as soon as they were available. Stan, being the normal type of kid sans insane mother, was not, and soon we did not share any classes together except lunch and gym.
It sucked, but it wasn't the kiss of death just yet, only a prelude. Stan had a new girlfriend whose name I don't even remember now, but he still made plenty of time for me. We weren't glued at the hip anymore, but hey, wasn't that just part of growing up?
But then Junior year came and shit hit the proverbial fan. Most of my free time was eaten up studying; both for the SATS and the increasingly challenging schoolwork I was faced with. A period of time I like to refer to as the 'Dark Days'. About all I can remember about them is Ike force feeding me and dragging to bed at 3 am every night.
Around that time Stan had finally made it onto the football team, so he was busy too. Our relationship degenerated from best friends to hallway acquaintances over the course of that year; slowly, and yet so fast that I barely had time to blink before I realized I'd lost him.
Look, don't get me wrong. Life goes on, even without a super best friend, I'm not that pathetic. I have lots of stuff to keep me busy anyway, so, who needs Stan? But…
Sometimes I think that I should hate him, because now he was a star athlete and one of the most popular kids a school. Was it any coincidence that this only happened after he'd ditched the brainy Jew kid holding him back?
"Strike one!"
No, Stan wasn't like that. At least, he didn't used to be, but then I really didn't know him that well anymore, did I?
"Hey Kahl, are you gonna play or what?"
I sigh and readjust my grip on the bat. Ah, Gym Class, what a colossal waste of time. Okay, I'm not a total nerd, I still like sports and play them when I can, but what I could really use was an extra study hall instead.
"Strike two!"
"Hah! I told you jews can't play ball."
Shit, okay. Time to stop wallowing in self pity and swing the bat already, before it winds up in Cartman's face. Over-analyzing the Stan situation for at least the hundredth time isn't getting me anywhere, right?
It's just over. Plain and simple.
But damn, does it have to be him?
The pitcher winds up the ball and I prepare myself. There's a moment of intensity between us, a tingle down my spine that is both familiar and long forgotten. Stan's eyes meet mine for a moment before he hurls the softball at me with incredible force.
There's a crack and I burst into a run without thinking. I'm clearing the bases pretty quickly and the other guys are cheering me on. I hit home with a gasp and it takes me a second to realize how wide I'm smiling.
Damn, I take back what I said about gym class, that was fucking awesome!
Cartman looks perturbed at this development, which is always nice, but right now I'm only interested in one person's reaction.
In my euphoria I turn to get a glimpse at Stan, hoping that he's pissed, he's not used to just anyone home running one of his curve balls. I want to cry out 'See? I can do it. I'm still great without you!' or something else equally stupid but the thought dies when I catch sight of him.
He's smiling at me. All genuine and proud and it's almost like I've stepped back in time a few years.
"Nice job, Kyle" he comments, and it's then I realize how long I've been waiting to hear that again. How much I've been lying to myself.
Goddamit.
Shortly after the bell rings and we make our way back to the locker rooms, Stan is once again off with his new group of friends. As I watch him talk and laugh with them, I can't help but wonder; did he ever miss me too?
"Hey fag, you going to stare all day?" Cartman catches me in the act and I jolt away to stuff my dirty clothes in the gym locker.
"Fuck off, you're the one that insists on changing right next to me everyday."
"That's cause someone's gotta keep on eye on you, Jew-rat." I ignore the usual bait and start walking toward my next class, mostly because I know by now it's just Cartman's fucked up version of camaraderie. Ironic that he ended up being my oldest, sort of, friend. Kenny was still around, but he barely ever showed up to school anymore, so I never saw him. I knew better than to ask him what he was up to when I did.
"Hey Kyle!" I turn to see Wendy running toward me, all smiles and sunshine. She links arms with me as we head to Calculus, as per usual. We share almost all of our classes together and it's for that reason that we somehow ended up friends. Although I'm pretty sure everyone thinks that we're dating. God, mom would love that, she's crazy about Wendy. Which is probably why I've never even considered asking her out.
That and she just makes me think of, well…you know who.
"You alright?" Wendy asks softly as we take our seats.
"Huh? Uh, yeah."
"Hm. You seem quiet," she observes, studying me in the freaky mind reading way that girls do.
"Sorry, I'm just distracted."
"By what?"
"Nothing…just, ancient history." I sigh and run a hand through my hair tiredly, making it even messier than usual.
"Oh, is that all? You can borrow my notes if you want." It takes me a moment to realize what she's talking about and I burst out laughing. If only it were that simple.
A/N: Well there you go. First fanfic in years! I don't know, South Park has me under some sort of spell, it was beyond my control.