hey there! if you're reading this, thanks for checking me out! this is a project im just kind of plugging out for funsies, so please be gentle. it's kind of an AU of sorts, so some canons may be sacrified/forgotten (i.e. birthdays, certain lore here and there). but for the most part, canon events are still applicable in this story. thanks for giving it a chance! ( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ

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didn't have a clue where we were going
or where we would end up

Sparse brown walls sealed in a deafening silence, broken only by the sound of rustling papers and the monotonous tick of the clock hanging by the door. A few framed degrees hung on the wall above the psychiatrist's desk neatly while the middle-aged woman silently leafed through a folder, turned away from the couch. Kyle's eye's wandered desperately through the room for something to focus on. It was small, with only enough room for the psychiatrist's desk, the couch he was sitting on, and a small coffee table in front of him. He never would have pegged himself as claustrophobic, but the somber space was beginning to make him feel smothered and uncomfortable. His eyes went to the degrees and certificates on the psychiatrist's wall. He counted them to himself anxiously. One, two, three, four. Four. How fitting, seeing as this was the fourth shrink Kyle had been through in the course of three months.

A knot formed in Kyle's stomach, and his eyes went to the clock. He began tapping his fingers nervously on his leg, in time with the loud ticking.

"Kyle Broflovski." The psychiatrist's voice almost startled Kyle amidst the quiet, and he faced her again. She turned around in her swivel chair with a smile. "I've heard a lot about you."

Kyle laughed a little dryly. I'm sure you have. He forced a smile back. "My dad's said a lot of great things about you, Mrs. Edenburg."

"Please, call me Gina," she replied. Her gaze faltered momentarily as she flipped through her papers again, moving the file marked "Broflovski, Kyle" to the back of the pile, bringing a small yellow notepad to the top. Kyle flinched inwardly as she clicked the pen in her hand, looking back up with the same smile on her face.

"So, Kyle, how have you been doing?"

Kyle smiled back blankly. "Okay."

"That's good. How's school been going? You guys just got back from summer break a few months ago, right?"

"Yeah," Kyle said. He hated it when they beat around the bush. "I started my senior year. I get okay grades. Starting to apply for colleges."

"So you're getting along nicely?"

We both know why I'm here, just get on with it. "Sure. I mean, I guess high school's still high school. But it's okay."

Gina paused, then blinked slowly as she looked down at her papers. She looked back up, still smiling. "I feel like you're already impatient with me, Kyle."

This made Kyle feel a little bad. He didn't want to seem like a dick. He had just been through this so many times before. He crossed his arms across his chest, and looked off to the side. "Sorry."

"It's alright. I understand. So why don't you tell me why you decided to see me."

Kyle bit the inside of his cheek. "My parents wanted me to see someone."

"Why?"

After a brief pause, Kyle continued, "They think I'm depressed."

"Do you think you're depressed?"

The next pause lasted a little longer. "I don't know."

"Okay." Gina looked down for a moment to jot something down in her notes. When she looked back up, she asked, "Why do your parents think you're depressed?"

"I don't know." Kyle ran a hand through his hair anxiously. "I've just been... tired. It doesn't even feel like I'm sad. I'm just tired. I don't really like going places anymore. During summer break, I didn't really hang out with anyone. I just kind of stayed home."

"I see." Gina hummed, writing down more notes. Kyle didn't like it when they wrote shit down. It made him nervous. "Have your grades suffered at all?"

The knot was back in Kyle's stomach. "A little. I mean, I'm not failing or anything. And it's only been since we got back from break. But... I've fallen asleep a couple of times in class. And I got a C on one of our first assignments. I've never gotten a C in my entire life. That's kind of why I agreed with my mom and dad to see someone."

"Your grades are important to you?"

"Yes. Like, I don't know. I guess it's stupid, considering that there are other things in life that can hold greater concern... but I don't know. I just like being smart. I've always been a smart kid. I like that about myself."

"It's not stupid, Kyle. If your grades are what matter to you, than they're equally as important as anything else." She wrote down some more notes. "Now, when did you first notice these feelings? Feeling tired?"

Kyle almost sighed as he recalled the memory yet again. "It was around my 13th birthday. After my Bar Mitzvah." Why did it always come back to this fucking story? "It's been on and off since then. This year has been the longest period where it just... hasn't seemed to go away."

"Okay. What happened around your Bar Mitzvah?"

"Well..." Kyle paused, weary to tread down this path again. Why did this seem to be the root of his problems? "I used to hang out a lot with these three other kids when I was younger." Why did this have to matter? "Stan Marsh, Kenny McCormick, and Eric Cartman. We knew each other since we were in kindergarten."

Gina nodded, taking more notes. "Go on."

Why does it all come back to them? Kyle bit his lip. "I guess it all started when Kenny's brother died."

It was beautiful.

That's what kept Kenny coming back.

The world was so beautiful. The leaves on the trees were dying, but they never looked more alive. The varying oranges and yellow were rich and vibrant, and the veins on each leaf were so unique, so intricate. They were dying, falling before Kenny's eyes onto the thin layer of frost below, but it was so goddamned beautiful. That's what death became. A beautiful fucking lie.

He looked out to Stark's Pond, and goddamn, it was beautiful too. The water was still, perfect, untouched. It was so, painfully clear, crystal fucking clear. He wanted to see to the bottom, but the crystals cut like diamonds, burning his eyes and clouding his vision. Or maybe that was something else. But he wondered if the water was a lie too. A beautiful little lie. He wanted to see the bottom. He wanted to sink into bliss, delve deep into it, forever seeking an end. Forever seeking, seeking until he couldn't notice the diamonds cutting deep, cutting into his lungs. Breathing deep hurt. But he had to get to the bottom, he needed to reach the end to get to that beautiful little lie.

But maybe that was something else.

"Dude, you're so fucked up."

Kenny blinked a couple times, and then turned around to Craig, having completely forgotten he was even there. Craig was laughing at him, eyes red, and Kenny couldn't remember if he had spoken aloud or what was said, or what exactly he had taken since they got there, but he laughed too. He looked down and remembered the soda-can-turned-bong he held in his hands, and it was still smoking, so hell, why not take another hit? Tweek was sitting next to Craig, already doing a line off his own phone.

Kenny gave Tweek a dazed grin. "Dude, slow down, we're not fuckin' racing."

Tweek set down his phone after all was done, rubbing at his nose anxiously. "They're fucking onto me."

Craig giggled again. "Who's onto you?"

"Fucking everyone." Tweek's eyes darted around in a panic. "Fucking cops gotta know us by now. They've fucking got us. We can't fucking do this shit at Stark's anymore. Too many fucking people."

"Jesus, man. There's, like, no one here." Kenny snorted.

Tweek's eyes kept darting this way and that, and Kenny just wanted him to calm down, because it must have been hard to see how beautiful everything was when he was looking around so hurriedly. "What the fuck ever, man. Just do all the shit before someone fucks us. They're gonna fuckin' fuck us."

"Chirst, Tweek," Craig laughed. "You gotta chill. I always tell you, you should do more pot, less speed. You're already too fuckin' hyped up, man. Kenny, pass it over to him."

Kenny chuckled, handing the can over to the other blond. Right as Tweek took it, Kenny's phone buzzed in his pocket. He took it and looked at the caller ID.

Shit. Shit shit shit.

"You guys, you guys, shut up." Kenny hissed at his companions. Come on, McCormick, time to sober up, sober up quick now.

He answered it, cleared his throat, and put the phone to his ear. "Hey, princess."

"Kenny?" Karen's voice was a little urgent, and Kenny immediately regretted the clouds in his head, because her voice was beautiful, but it was not a lie. Her voice deceived nothing, there was only truth, and the truth hurt.

"Yeah, Karen, what's up?" Craig and Tweek suddenly burst into giggles amongst themselves, and Kenny quickly kicked Craig in the shin to stifle the noise.

"Kenny, are you with your friends?" Karen's voice went from urgency to disappointment, and Kenny felt a knot form in his stomach.

"Um, no, yeah, princess," Kenny stuttered, not even entirely aware of what he was saying. "We're just- I was just hanging out with them for a little bit. It's fine. It's fine. What- What's wrong, Karen?"

Karen grew quiet on the other line. "It's just... you haven't picked me up yet."

Shit. Shit shit fuck. What time was it? What day was it? Where even was she? He was... pretty sure it was a school day. School. She was at school. Fuck.

"Um, I-" He cut himself off to stand up, taking a few step away from Craig and Tweek, who were still quietly snickering to themselves. "I'm sorry, Karen. I was just- I got a little busy. I'll be there in a little bit. I promise. Okay? I'm sorry."

Karen paused again, and when she spoke up her voice was frightfully small. "Are we still going out to dinner?"

Kenny was confused for a moment, and he knew there was something more he couldn't remember but he just couldn't find it. He squinted his eyes in effort. "Dinner? I-"

"We were still gonna go out this year, right?" The urgency was back now. "I mean- you didn't forget today... did you?"

It suddenly all came crashing back to Kenny, and it hit so hard that he almost had to sit down again.

He suddenly remembered the reason that he had cut school to come to Stark's Pond with Craig and Tweek.

Fuck. Fuck. How much money did he have left? He thought he had remembered not to blow it all, but... Aw, fuck it. It might not be enough for Bennigan's, but he at least could take her to McDonald's or some shit. It was a shitty fucking dinner out, but it was something.

"Yeah, Karen, we're still going. Of course. I'll come to get you. Are you okay right now? Are you cold?"

"I'm fine. Tina's mom is offering to let me wait at their house."

Kenny flinched inwardly. This wasn't the first time Karen's friend's mother had made the offer. That woman was a saint. He quickly made a mental note to repay her for it somehow, but knew that he would forget to just like all the times before. "Yeah. Go ahead and- yeah." He paused, running a hand through his hair. "Just don't go home, Karen. And don't stay at the school. Okay? Just... don't go home."

Kenny was met with silence. He sighed heavily, his mind all at once too blurry to function and way, way too clear. "I'll be there soon, Karen. Thirty minutes, at the most. Then we'll go out... we'll go out together. I promise."

There was another beat of silence, and then, "Okay, Kenny."

Kenny sighed again, leaning against a tree and rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Tell Tina's mom I said thank you, okay?"

"Okay."

"Okay. I love you, princess."

"I love you too." After this, there was an immediate click on the line, and Kenny shoved his phone back in his pocket.

He was so stupid. He was so fucking stupid.

He turned back towards Craig and Tweek. "Hey, Craig."

Craig looked up at him, eyes even more bloodshot than before, now with a red nose to match. "What's up, man?"

"Can me and Karen crash at your place tonight?"

"Uhhh," Craig squinted, as if trying to remember something. "Yeah, whatever. Why?"

"I'll tell you later, man. I've gotta go."

Kenny could hear Tweek grinding his teeth even from where he was standing. "What? Why? What's happening? Who was that? Fucking Christ, fucking sit down, you're fucking making me nervous!"

"Jesus Tweek, calm the fuck down!" Craig pushed Tweek weakly, looking back up at Kenny. "He's right though, dude. You haven't even done a line yet. Come on, I went all the way to Denver for this shit."

Kenny hesitated, before grudgingly sitting back on the ground. He noticed a leaf there, and he picked it up for a moment.

He had sobered up a little, but the fine lines running through the dry, cracked plant still caught Kenny's eye. The delicate circuit of veins were still so perfect in their imperfection. But the colors looked less spectacular. It was brown, and brown was just brown, and as he crushed it in his hand and let the little pieces fall back onto the ground, death was just death.

He would still have time to pick her up. He just needed one line. Just one more hit. Just one chance to see the lies a little clearer, a little longer.

Because Kenny, more than anyone else, knew what a beautiful fucking lie death could be.

"Can you tell me more about that?"

Kyle fidgeted in his seat. "His name was Kevin. He died of an overdose. No one ever actually told us what it was. Rumors were it was heroin." Kyle paused for a while. "He was fifteen."

Gina looked down and shook her head slightly. "That's a shame."

"Yeah." Kyle said numbly. "I mean, none of us really knew Kevin that well. But I guess it was the first time something like that really hit close to home with us. And Kenny... well, obviously Kenny was..." Kyle trailed off. He could still remember where he was when his parents told him. He still remembered the day. About three weeks before his birthday. Four years ago.

Four years ago today.

"Kenny was just never the same." Kyle stopped, but Gina just looked at him expectantly. He didn't really want to go on, but he found himself continuing anyway. "He got into a big fight with Cartman at my Bar Mitzvah. After that, he just stopped hanging out with us."

Gina nodded slowly. "Do you know what the fight was about?"

Kyle shook his head. "No. Cartman never told me. After that, he kind of drifted away too. Me and Stan- we blamed him for chasing Kenny off. I don't even know if it was actually his fault anymore. But I guess he got sick of us treating him like shit, because eventually he just kind of stopped talking to us."

Gina wrote down some more notes. "And were you close with Eric?"

Kyle gave a wry laugh. "I don't know. Maybe."

Gina raised an eyebrow a little quizzically, and followed up with, "Do you want to tell me more about him?"

Kyle snorted. "Cartman? Yeah. He was an asshole."

Eric stared out the car window mindlessly, resting his chin on top of his hand. People entered and left his vision quickly as the car made it's way down the street, and Eric sighed heavily.

"Watcha thinkin' about?"

Eric scrunched up his face in annoyance and turned towards the driver's seat. "None of your fucking business, Butters."

The blond glanced over at Eric behind his glasses and just laughed. "Someone sure is crabby."

Cartman grumbled and looked back outside. "I'm just fucking sick of having to be driven to the goddamn grocery store by the most annoying person I know."

Butters smirked a little. "Eric, I'm startin' to think you don't like me."

"Fuck off."

"Aw, don't worry, buddy. Your guyses car's gonna get fixed eventually."

"It's been a fucking week." Eric scrunched up his face in thought. "Actually, scratch that. It has now been eight days. Eight days without a fucking car."

"Don't worry, Eric. I like helpin' you and Lianne out. You guys are like my second family."

Eric rolled his eyes. "You're a fucking dweeb."

"Yeah, at least I didn't just use the word 'dweeb' unironically."

Eric turned back to Butters slowly just in time to witness the shit-eating grin on his face. "Remember when we were kids, Butters? And you didn't fucking sass me every 10 seconds?" Eric asked, his words very precise.

"Mm hm."

"Yeah. I miss that."

Butters stopped the car at Eric's street, turning and smiling at him before turning down the road. "Yeah, well, times change, Toots."

"Jesus."

Butters turned in the driveway, switching off the car and hopping out. "Come on, sourpuss, we gotta unload these for your mom."

"You mean you have to unload these for my mom."

"Mm hm."

The two boys walked through the door with grocery bags in hand, and Eric called, "Mom, we're home."

Lianne peeked her head out of the kitchen. "Oh, good!"

Butters and Eric shuffled into the kitchen, setting the bags on the counter. Eric immediately reached into one of the bags, pulled out a soda, and sat down at the kitchen table. He cracked open the can as he watched Butters put away the rest of the groceries.

"Oh, thank you so much for helping us get groceries, Butters." Lianne continued, walking over to the sink. She had been loading the dishwasher, and continued doing so as she spoke. "You're such a gentleman."

Eric almost gagged as Butters laughed cheerfully in reply. "Oh, it's not a problem, ma'am! You know I love helping you and Eric out! Hope your car gets fixed soon though. Sure is a nuisance for you two."

"Butters, stop being a kiss-ass, no one wants to hear it."

"Eric! Be nice to your little friend!"

Butters just smiled again and turned to Lianne. "It's alright, ma'am! I know you and Eric appreciate it."

The blond quickly shot a grin at Eric that seemed vaguely malicious. Eric sneered back at him.

"Well, Butters, since you helped out so nicely, would you like to stay for a while and I'll make you some dinner?"

"Aw, thanks, Lianne, you're such a sweetheart." Butters closed the fridge behind him as he put back the last of the groceries. "Sorry to say, though, I've already got plans at home. I've gotta get going now, actually. Thank you, though."

"Oh, that's fine, Butters." Lianne turned towards her son. "Eric, walk your little friend to the door."

Eric took a swig from his soda and slammed it down on the table. "Mom, he knows where the goddamn door is!"

"Eric!"

Eric muttered to himself heatedly as he stood up from his chair and all but pushed Butters towards the front door. Butters called out a farewell to Ms. Cartman over his shoulder as Eric lead him out.

Cartman grimaced, glaring at him as he stood in the doorway. "I can't believe nobody else has figured out what a little shithead you are."

"Well, gee, Eric." Butters pouted jokingly, backing out of the door. "I ain't a shithead. I'm just a gentleman."

Eric slammed the door in his face before he could say anything else. He sighed as he walked back into the kitchen and sat back down at his drink. Lianne hummed cheerfully as he took another sip.

"What a nice young man Butters is." She said absentmindedly, and Eric raised an eyebrow in her direction.

"You think so, huh?"

"Mm hm." Lianne replied. There was a pause before she continued. "And he gets more handsome every day."

Eric's soda shot out of his nose before he had a chance to stop it. "Mooooooooooooom!"

Lianne laughed and turned off the sink, wiping her hands dry on a dish towel. She turned towards her boy and gave him a kiss on the head. "I'm just kidding, schmoopsy."

"Ugh." Cartman wiped at his nose, pouting. "No you're not."

Lianne just giggled again, and Eric rolled his eyes. "So what do you want for dinner, Eric?"

"I don't know." Eric fussed with the tab on his soda can. "I'm not really hungry yet."

There was a long pause. "...Are you feeling alright, schmoopsy?"

"What?" Eric turned around in confusion to see a look of genuine concern on his mother's face. "I'm fine. What?"

"Well, it's just..." Lianne trailed off, shrugging slightly. "You're just usually hungry when you get home from school."

"...Shut up."

"Are you sure you're feeling okay, though?"

"'Ey!" Eric crossed his arms. "Just because I don't stuff my fat fucking face the second I get home doesn't mean I'm fucking dying."

"Well, no, but-"

Eric cut her off shortly. "I'm fine, Mom."

Lianne looked at her son, still not looking convinced. Eric met her eyes for a moment, but soon turned away to sheepishly take another sip of his soda. Lianne cocked her head to the side, frowning. But she eventually just walked over to her boy and rested a hand on his head. Eric flinched slightly, but didn't shy away.

"Eric, sweetie?" She started running her fingers through his hair comfortingly. "Do you want to see a movie tonight?"

Eric ran his finger around the rim of the soda can anxiously. After a second of silence, he sighed and closed his eyes. "Yeah, sure."

"I mean, pardon my French, but Eric just wasn't the kind of kid you got close to." Kyle continued, rubbing the back of his head. "I don't hear much nowadays, but it used to be you couldn't go one day without the whole town hearing about what a terror he was. These days, since we got into highschool, I've heard about him getting into fights once in a while. But other than that, he just kind of... fell out of our life."

Gina nodded. "I understand." She wrote down more in her notepad. "What about Stan?"

Kyle grew quiet. "Stan and I were really close." When his voice came out, it was nearly a whisper. "We stuck together a little over a year after Kenny and Cartman bailed." Kyle's arms instinctively tightened across his chest a little, and his fingers absently grasped at his own jacket. "We're not friends now."

Gina just looked at Kyle for a while, noticing Kyle's change in demeanor. He guessed it probably didn't take four degrees to notice that much.

"Would you like to tell me what happened?" She asked after a while, delivering her words very cautiously.

Kyle faltered. "Not now."

Gina just nodded understandingly. "Is there anything else you'd like to tell me about Stan?"

Kyle looked up at the clock on the wall. There wasn't enough time this session. There wasn't enough time in the world. He bit the inside of his cheek again, gaze falling to the floor.

"No."

"Hey, Marsh!"

Stan turned around in the parking lot, backpack slung over his shoulder, and slowed his pace slightly. The sun was bright, annoying, and he had to shield his eyes to catch a glimpse of Token running through the lot to meet him.

"What's up, Token?" Stan greeted, offering out a hand. As Token reached him, he high fived it, bridging the gap between them and briefly bumping shoulders before matching Stan's pace.

"You wanna give me a ride home, dude?" Token asked, walking with Stan to his car.

Stan snorted. "What? Why? What happened to your Jag?"

"I sold it." Token replied, smirking. "I'm getting a new one. My parents are taking me to the Porsche dealership in Denver tonight."

Stan laughed, shaking his head. "Yeah? Of fucking course you are. You probably don't even need the ride. You just wanted to brag to someone that you're getting a Porsche. You've probably got a fucking helicopter waiting to pick you up behind school."

"Yeah, yeah. So, you gonna give me that ride, or what?"

"That's cool, dude." Stan replied, fishing his keys out of his pocket. He clicked the unlock button, and the lights of his old, hand-me-down station wagon flashed. "Sorry it's no Jag. Or a Porsche."

"I think I'll live." Token laughed. They both hopped into the car, and Stan turned the ignition and began to pull out of the parking lot.

"It's not like I mind or anything," Stan began as he turned onto the road, "but why didn't you just ask Clyde for a lift?"

"That selfish prick?" Token mocked, grinning. "Guy's my best friend, but he would have told me to go fuck myself."

Stan scoffed in amusement. Token grew a little quiet though, and his smile fell slightly.

"I did want to ask you something, though." Token admitted.

Stan turned to him briefly, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah? What's up?"

"Are you feeling alright today?"

Stan clutched the steering wheel a little tighter. "Yeah, dude. Why?"

Token looked at him for a moment, then back at the road. "I don't know, man. You just seemed really distracted during practice today. You're usually the most focused out of any of us, and it didn't seem like your mind was on the plays."

Stan was quiet before attempting a nonchalant laugh. "Yeah, I guess man. I thought coach was gonna throttle me every time I fucked something up."

There was an awkward pause, and Token turned towards the driver's seat again. "Soooo? What's the verdict? What's going on?"

Stan was grinding his teeth slightly, but he simply shrugged. "I don't know, man. Just an off day. I didn't get much sleep last night." It was the truth. Not the whole truth, but the truth.

Token didn't reply, not seeming totally convinced, so Stan went on. "I'm good, Token. Trust me. I'm not gonna fuck us when it comes to game time."

Token shook his head. "It's not that. I mean, that would suck too, I guess, but I mean... we are friends, Stan. And I'm just saying, what I saw today during practice was weird. I just wanted to make sure everything was still chill."

Stan smiled slightly. "Thanks man. But everything's cool, I swear." Stan said it like it was nothing, but his stomach was beginning to churn, and his mouth felt dry. Token finally looked away from him, albeit doubtfully, with a noncommittal grunt.

After Stan dropped Token at home, the drive back to his house felt like hours. He had to turn on the radio, cautious to sit in the quiet with his own thoughts. When he got home, he went through the door in a hurry, briefly greeted his parents, and immediately retreated to his room. As soon as the door shut behind him, he sighed heavily. He slung off his backpack and jacket and immediately crashed back on his bed. He placed his hands over his face and started rubbing at his eyes.

He hadn't expected Token to know. It had been four years. And really, the day shouldn't hold that much significance to Token. Hell, if he really thought about it, it shouldn't have even mattered as much as it did to himself.

But it just really made Stan feel like shit when it felt like he was the only one that couldn't handle it.

When Stan just sat there thinking about it, everything got worse. To Stan, four years ago wasn't just the day that Kevin McCormick died. It was the day that everything had died. It was the day Stan had lost all hope. It was the beginning of the end. It was the grim omen to what he had become today.

He was such a selfish prick.

Stan pulled his phone out of his pocket, because goddamn he couldn't just think anymore, and he quickly pulled up Facebook and mindlessly thumbed through his feed. He wasn't even really reading anything. It was all just a blur of unimportant statuses, and stupid Instagrams, and tired internet jokes. But it was easier to do than think.

Stan wasn't sure how long he spent looking through Facebook posts until one caught his eye. He saw the name, "Leopold Stotch (Butters)," and paused over it. As he read through it, he grew tense.

It was directed at Kenny McCormick.

""Hey buddy! I was just thinking about you today. I know we haven't had a lot of time to pal around lately, but you're always on my mind! :-) Hope we can catch up again real soon, Kenny. Tell Karen that Butters says hi!""

Stan must have read it ten different times before finally dropping his phone off the bed like it had bitten him.

The only thing worse than feeling like he was only one affected by today was the crushing reminder that he wasn't.

And Butters.

Fucking Butters.

It was fucking awful, because Butters' words were so kind, and so gentle, and so genuine, but at the same time they were filled with lies. Lies that covered up dirty truths, and things that no one wanted to talk about.

Stan stared at his ceiling for several minutes, the post running through his head at a million miles and hour, before slowly turning his head towards his nightstand. The first thing he saw was a small orange bottle with a white cap.

He shouldn't have stopped taking his meds.

He sat up after a while and grabbed the bottle, unscrewing the cap and letting a single pill fall into the palm of his hand. He stared at it for a while before popping it in his mouth and swallowing it dry.

It had been a while, and it wasn't the right time, but it was all he could think to do and he just needed something. He closed the lid back up and set it back on the nightstand. He thought about getting back up and asking his mom about dinner, but he soon resigned himself to sinking slowly back into the bed. He curled up on his side and just closed his eyes.

Maybe he'd want to get up tomorrow.

"Kyle, I think we've made a lot a headway today." Gina said, extending her hand.

Kyle took it, and they shook hands in her doorway. "Yeah."

"I'd like to see you again next week, but I understand if you don't want to make an appointment now." As she spoke, she reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a business card, handing it to Kyle. "Just give me a call, okay?"

Kyle took the card, smiling politely. "Thank you, Gina."

Kyle walked numbly out of the building, outside into the parking lot where his mom's car sat waiting for him. He sat in the passenger's seat, barely even giving his mom a glance before she started driving. The ride was silent for the first several minutes, until Sheila finally decided to speak up.

"How'd it go, Kyle?" She asked quietly.

"Fine." He answered, tone flat.

There was another long, awkward silence. "Do you think you'll want to see her again?"

Kyle stared out the side window, eyes going out of focus. "I don't know. Maybe."

Sheila didn't say anything else after that, and Kyle was grateful for that. He just stared blankly out the window the entire drive home, never focusing on anything, never trying to start up a conversation. He did feel kind of bad about it. He didn't want to be a dick.

Kyle just didn't want to talk anymore today.