Notes:

[f/n]= first name

P.O.V= Point of View

If you are a boy, please disregard the use of her or she. It's just hard to write this story from Kenny's point of view without settling on a gender.

*Reader's P.O.V*

I bite the tip of my pencil in thought, mind trying to piece together the solution to this math problem I have been stuck on for way too long. To prove this identity, maybe if I...I try using a reciprocal identity, but to my frustration my idea did not work. Fucking pre-calculus!

I toss my head back in frustration and groan, the familiar sense of math induced stress settling in. I toss aside my homework, deciding it best to give my mind time to rest and pout about not being able to solve this problem. But my "resting" time did not last long, for I hear a familiar taping on my window.

Instead of being worried about the fact that someone was at my window during the dead of night, I walk over to the window to open it. Only one person would tap at my window at this time, and sure enough it is Kenny, orange parka covering his face and all. The first time he had decided to visit me at such an ungodly hour, he nearly gave me a heart attack with his obscured face. Now I'm used to it.

"Kenny?" I question him. "What are you doing here? Parents again?" I offer my hand and help him through the window.

"Mbbf, mbgh fhth," he begins with his muffled attempts at talking, and I roll my eyes at him. I reach over and yank his hood off his face, blond hair tumbling down.

"You know I can't make out what you are saying with your face covered like that," I scold him.

He grins sheepishly at me, then proceeds to walk over to my makeshift nest on the floor and plops down on the pillows. "Yeah, the usual drunken shit. Screaming, thuds, anything they can do to annoy the hell out of me. So looks like I'm staying the night again." He waggles his eyebrows suggestively at me.

I grab a pillow off my bed and throw it in his face. I then join him in the pile of pillows. "So then, how may I entertain my guest tonight? Not" I stop whatever he is about to say with my palm raised, "anything sexual."

He groans and falls backwards into the pillows. "Aw man, then what else is there?" I hit his shoulder and lie down with him. A comfortable silence envelops us, and I glance at him. As carefree as he pretends to be, I can tell from his slightly scrunched eyebrows that his parents' shenanigans upset him, despite being exposed to it so much.

"Remember," I venture, "when we used to play house in that little tree house in the woods?"

He turns his head to me, his eyes smiling at the thought of the memory. "Yeah, I was telling you how screwed up my family is, and you just up and said 'Then how about we make our own family?' You were the mom, I was the dad, and we had a really beat up doll as the baby."

"And one day," I continue, "we just decided that we should stay together as a family. We ran away from home and tried to live in that tree house. We lasted two whole days together before our parents found us."

He nodded at me in conformation. "And the bastards tore the tree house down."

I smile. "Yeah, and they tried to keep us apart. Not that that stopped us."

He gave me a wolfish grin in return. "Like they could tear us apart." We continue talking about various topics: memories, shows, games, and other random discussions till Kenny is the first to succumb to sleep. I grab a spare blanket off my bed and place it on him, not without admiring his sleeping form. I glance at my discarded homework. Ah screw it, not like I was going to understand it anyways.

"Goodnight, Kenny," I whisper into the night before sleep consumes me as well.

*Kenny's P.O.V*

"Mmmmf," I mumble into a pillow, the smell of [f/n] greeting me as I wake up. I stand up and stretch out the pains that come with sleeping on the floor. But [f/n]'s pile of pillows and blankets did help make me comfortable, so I wasn't one to complain.

After making sure she is still asleep, I gently reach out to fiddle with [f/n]'s hair. Her sleeping form is so peaceful and innocent. [f/n] stirs so I hastily drop the strand of hair I was fiddling with.

I glance at the alarm clock on the table beside the bed. Damnit, I'll be late for work if I don't hurry! I rush to window, glancing at [f/n]'s sleeping form one more time. "See ya later, [f/n]," I whisper before jumping out the window and start running to the convenience store I work at.

To be honest, I could of slept at any girl's house if I wanted to, and could even get sex out of it. I mean, I have been around a lot. But when my parents decide to be shitheads and get drunk off of their asses, the only one I want to see is [f/n], never anyone else. We were never in a relationship, but we have known each other for so long that [f/n] doesn't mind when I stay over. Which I am grateful for, because there is nowhere I feel more comfortable at than that little bedroom strewn with miscellaneous items that represent [f/n].

I slow down once I reach the convenience store, breath huffing out in exhaustion. I really can't afford to lose this job, I'm poor enough as it is. Luckily I made it in time, and get prepped for another day of boring-ass work.

*Reader's P.O.V*

I shift my feet through the soft fabric of my blanket and rub my face into my pillow, relishing the dreamy state you get when you wake up on your own. I stay in a half-sleep state for a while before I finally decide it is time to get up.

I first notice that Kenny is gone, which is understandable when I glance at my alarm clock. It seems I have been sleeping for hours after his shift began. His shift should be ending soon. Maybe I'll go see him?

Eh, why not? I mean, I could be working on my homework, but I'm not feeling it. Ok, meet Kenny it is! Having come to a decision, I get dressed and head over to the convenience store that Kenny works at.

The store bell resounds as I enter the store, my eyes scanning for the familiar orange parka. Ah, there he is! Seems like he got cash register duty, which he loves because as he always tells me, 'I get to meet hot chicks!' I grab a chocolate bar and slam it on the counter.

"Excuse me sir, I'd like to buy this chocolate bar. And this time keep your eyes on my face, nowhere lower thank you very much!" He smirks at me and rings in the chocolate bar.

"That'll be a dollar and fifty-cents, but for you beautiful, fifty-cents."

I giggle at him. "Sir, if you keep giving customers discounts you are going to get fired!"

"But I don't give customers discounts! Just you," he tells me with a wink.

I roll my eyes at him. "Mhmm, Kenny, I believe that. Anyways, wanna hang out after your shift ends?"

"Are you asking me out, [f/n]?"

"Kenny!" I threateningly yell at him, but my grin lets him know I'm not serious.

He throws his hands up in surrender and laughs. "Kidding, kidding! Sure, I have about ten minutes left. How about I meet you at the KFC over there? Your sexy face is too distracting for me to work seriously!"

I leave, but not after gently slapping him across the head. "Goofball!"

*Kenny's P.O.V*

Finally, it's over! I toss off the stupid apron I have to wear, for lord knows what reason, and leave behind the store. Across the street, [f/n] is waving at me, choosing to wait outside for me instead of inside. I grin and wave back.

I start to cross the road, seeing as how the light was red, and besides, the only car approaching was a single semi truck. But when the semi rushes past the red light, I knew. Goddamnit, looks like I'm dying today. I was really looking forward to hanging out with [f/n]!

I sigh and close my eyes, waiting for the painful impact. But instead, I feel hands shove me and I am flying backwards, body slamming onto the hard pavement.

*Reader's P.O.V*

I wave at Kenny when I notice him. He grins and waves back, when I hear the sound of an approaching semi. I glance at it absentmindedly, but freeze when I notice the driver. He was reading a goddamn comic book! My blood freezes and I look at Kenny, who had already started to cross the road.

He isn't looking at me as I a flying towards him, feet pounding on the ground and everything seeming to be in slow motion.

It's funny, I always used to wonder if I was the type to throw my life away for another. But to be honest, shamefully I would admit that I am too much of a coward to do so. I felt guilty about it, but I always figured I would save my own skin first. But here I am, running towards Kenny (oh God please no not Kenny), without even thinking about how I could die. All that mattered, at this moment, was making sure he didn't die.

I stretch out my arms, tossing myself at him with everything I got. I feel my hands connect with his warm body, and violently he is shoved out of the way.

Thank God, thank God, my mind hastily repeats till I feel the bone crushing impact of the semi truck. Everything gives away to blackness.

*Kenny's P.O.V*

My eyes fly open to witness the semi rushing past me, the wind roaring with it. It stops a few feet away, and I hear a door slam and loud cursing as the man witnesses what he did. The door slams again and the driver is speeding away, but the numbness taking hold of me prevents me from caring.

Blood, so much blood. The smell and sight of it makes my stomach clench in the telltale signs of oncoming vomit, but my eyes continue to follow the trail of blood. They rest on the small, distorted and twisted body that was [f/n].

The world seems to have stopped, the sound of rushing air filling my ears and my blood flowing inside of me like slush. Slowly I crawl across the hard ground to where [f/n] is, caring not about the warm blood that smears on me. Gently, I take [f/n] into my arms, moving her hair out of her face.

No, no no no NO NO NO NO! Why, why was this happening? I can't die! I can't die, not really, but not even [f/n] would remember when I die. But unlike the others, who unconsciously became indifferent to my death, [f/n] would cry each time.

I should have tried. I should have fucking tried to move away from the semi! Then [f/n] wouldn't have tried to save me. [f/n] would be, [f/n] would be…

Hot tears stream down my face and my body shudders violently in sobs. I bury my face into [f/n]'s hair, holding on to her for dear life.

Never again would I see [f/n] smile, hear [f/n]'s laugh, tease her, hang out with her, feel her warm skin and soft hair. Never would I be able to kiss her, marry her, be a real family with her. Never was I able to tell her 'I love you.'

"Oh my god, they killed [f/n]!" I hear the familiar phrase that Stan often shouted, but with my name. MY name, not [f/n]'s.

"Those bastards!" Kyle cries, with more feeling than when it was my death they would refer to.

I would come back. Always, without fail. But [f/n] was never coming back. I wish, with all my might, that I could die and stay dead. That I could go to [f/n] wherever death took her.

But I am still breathing, and hold onto [f/n] as I feel my world crashing to an end. God loved to laugh at me, at this horrible irony.

I should have been the one to die.

To Be Continued