Special K

A/N: I wasn't supposed to post this yet, because I like to have stuff finished before ever showing it. Been at this for months, trying EVERYTHING to spur me to continue. But I cracked. 20K words down, 30k to go.
This prologue comes with no guarantees. I have the next chapters ready, but might take a LONG time to update. Summary is subject to change; title... isn't.
Hopefully posting this will force me to get writing. Now to force you to read...

Just like I swallowed half my stash
I never ever want to crash

Prologue

You've seen the movies. Those chick-flicks your friends like to crack down on, but will storm at like hyenas the moment they show up at the video store. They're always the same: She is a well-mannered, innocent beauty; he is a rebellious, grungy kind of gorgeous. Two so different, no sort of connection should ever be possible. A script defying all odds; all logic. A hopeless romantic's tale of fools in love.

But you are no fool. No, nobody that would ever call you foolish. Your friends seek you out with their problems with a reason. You are the responsible one; the discrete one. You will never let your emotions deter you from doing what's right. And nobody, especially not some boy, will ever sweep you off your feet.

So tell me, dear Wendy, why you think of him. Why do you allow your mind to wander, ever more often, to him? Is it because you are ahead of the class? Is boredom why you glance sideways, to see if he's paying attention or simply scratching genitals into his desk? Why does Heidi claim you blushed when she called you on this? Enlighten me, for I grasp in darkness: Why does your train of thoughts break whenever Kenny's name is dropped?

Oh, I'm sure there's a reason. Rationalization, after all, is your stock and trade. You believe in equal chances for all. You feel that every mouth deserves to be fed, and for this you fight. It's not him: you would never allow any girl to be abused, or any boy to be malnourished.

And you know that Kenny is not merely malnourished, but downright neglected. Surely you remember your volunteering at the shelter over the holidays. You recall Kenny coming in that day, holding those stamps in a pelted fist. You ducked away, observing the scene from beneath the counter. Did you feel pity, when Kenny had to practically beg the clerk to accept his coupons? You must not blame the man, of course: He shouldn't cater to children asking for food, for how would he know those poor souls are being taken care of at all? No, you must only be glad that he felt the same as you did, and in the end furtively handed Kenny his box of supplies.

So it makes sense, then. You are simply watching out for Kenny McCormick, like a guardian angel without wings. Silent perhaps, but no less valiant. Your feelings towards him are simply concern for his well-being, not some cheesy romance-to-be. After all, if you didn't feel for him, who would?

The wind howls like a pack of starving wolves, and you are tucked safely beneath your blanket. But as you clutch to your book as if its pages contain the last warmth on earth, you're picturing him. Explain, Wendy. Romance novels are written to awaken ardor. But in yours, the appearance of the male protagonist is nothing like the dirty blonde. Yet there he is, parading in your mind as if he owns the place. Do you deny that the boy doesn't at the very least intrigue you?

But have no fear, young romantic, and sweet dreams. Because Kenny, grieving in the tempest your stalwart home shields you from, is also thinking of you.

And soon, you won't just be watching him.