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Chapter 1: All I Ever Wanted Was the World Chapter TextStan was only slightly tipsy the day Kylie first arrived at South Park High, a fact that he was somewhat proud of, all things considered.
He couldn't exactly say when he'd started taking a shot before making the trek to school, but it had become a part of his routine; he could hardly deny that at this point. One little shot of Jack in the morning was enough to take the edge off so he could deal, the alcohol seeping into his blood and making him loose. Life was easier to handle when it was cloudy, the sharp edges sanded down just a tad. So far, no one had noticed his pre-school shot of courage, and he planned to keep it that way. No, it was a secret best kept between himself and Jack Daniels, the half-full bottle languishing in his bottom drawer.
On this particular Tuesday, Stan was riding his buzz nicely as he sat in homeroom, the windows showcasing the falling snow as it wafted down in airy clumps. The sky was deluged in white, and the classroom had taken on a drowsy, warm quality as the students waited for the bell to ring; heads resting on desks and quiet chatter filling the air. Kenny was attempting to catch a few minutes of sleep in the desk next to Stan as Cartman shoved the remainder of a breakfast sandwich between his greasy lips. Stan watched the display with a languid air, his thoughts quieted from the alcohol and the warmth enveloping him as the heater creaked in the walls.
The door opened without preamble and in walked an unfamiliar figure, red hair shining in scarlet curlicues that fell against delicate, fur-covered shoulders. For the first time in awhile, Stan found himself taking an interest in something that didn't involve inebriation, and he sat forward; eyes drinking in the stranger.
"You must be the new girl," Mr. Mackey commented, glancing at the piece of paper she handed to him. "So, you're..."
"Kylie," she replied, her voice possessing an odd sweetness Stan couldn't pinpoint.
"And your last name?" Mr. Mackey asked, still reading over the paper but not looking up.
"I hardly think that matters to these people," Kylie replied, the sweetness taking on a bit of an edge. "Besides, it's written right there." She reached out a slender hand and pointed it out on the slip still gripped in the teacher's hand. "See?"
Mr. Mackey finally looked up, cocking an eyebrow at what he clearly considered insolence. Kylie just smiled back brightly, her nose scrunching up cutely.
"I see," he replied, handing the paper back which she took between manicured fingers. "Well, would you like to introduce yourself to the class?"
"Not really," she said, eliciting a quiet titter from the classroom. "Everyone knows that's a nightmare for a new kid. I'd rather just take a seat, if that's alright with you."
He just stared at her for a moment, a frown tugging at his mouth. Stan watched with amusement; clearly he had not been prepared for this sort of attitude so quickly. But really, what could he say? Kylie had an edge, but she was just so polite at the same time; exuding what could almost be considered subliminal bitchiness. Glancing away, Mr. Mackey scanned the room with narrowed eyes until they settled on the chair right next to Craig's, who was watching the spectacle with his typical stoic expression. He pointed it out.
"There, just sit there," he said. "The bell's going to be ringing soon anyway."
"Wonderful, thank you," she replied graciously, turning on her heel, white high heeled Mary Janes adorning her feet. As she made her way down the aisle, she raised an eyebrow at Clyde who quickly picked up his bag to give her space to walk by. A mint green ribbon was wound around her head, a bow nestled in her vibrant hair and complementing it perfectly.
"She's cute," Kenny murmured, having sat up upon hearing Kylie's back and forth with Mr. Mackey. "Don't you think?"
Even though Kenny had been quiet, Kylie looked up and stared directly at Stan, their eyes meeting for a moment and making his heart pound; taking him completely by surprise. There was wry amusement in the girl's shaded green eyes, but there was something else, too; something decidedly wild. For a moment Stan almost felt completely sober as he stared into those eyes, but as quickly as their gazes locked, Kylie turned away and settled into her seat. She set her bag on the floor and placed a Caboodle on the desk in front of her, opening it to pull out a tube of pink lip gloss. Almost everyone in the class watched as she daintily applied it to her lips, the boys' eyes taking on a lustful cast; faint predatory lights illuminating a multitude of covetous irises.
Stan couldn't help but admire Kylie. Not just because she was cute, which she certainly was, there was no denying that. No, it had to do with her demeanor, her completely unruffled nature. She had to realize that every person was staring at her in that moment, but she acted like she was completely alone; not even glancing around as she pulled out a compact and fluffed out her curls a little. She gave off a vibe that suggested she was used to being stared at and it didn't faze her. If anything, she expected it even if she wasn't going to acknowledge it; confidence radiating through her entire stature.
"She's more than cute," Stan replied, studying the girl's delicate back and the way her fur coat draped itself over her frame. "She's different."
As the weeks passed, Stan quickly noticed that Kylie wasn't the sort of person to actively seek anyone out. If anything, she seemed to have her own gravitational pull, and people just naturally flocked to her, making friends very quickly. But as he watched her, he saw that they weren't actual friendships; not in the true sense of the word. It seemed that she wouldn't allow for that, keeping everyone at arms' length and allowing acquaintances but nothing more. Every boy who had scraped up enough courage to ask her out had been shot down immediately, almost like she didn't even have to give the proposition a second thought.
"I don't want a relationship right now," she explained to Kevin Stoley, one finger tapping against her mouth; glitter sparkling on her long fingernail. "You understand, don't you?"
Kevin hung his head, a hangdog expression on his face, but he nodded slowly; eyes situated on the floor. Reaching out, she settled her hand on his chin and tipped his face up, a kind smile drifting across her glossy lips.
"You seem like a nice person," she said, softly. "I'm truly sorry but I'm afraid I wouldn't treat you very well."
Stan, who had been eavesdropping nearby under the pretense of retrieving his books from his locker, could only raise his eyebrows at that declaration. What the hell did it even mean? Kevin seemed just as confused, but he fairly melted into Kylie's touch as it lingered on his chin. Abruptly, she pulled away and ran a hand through her long curls, taking care not to disturb the ice blue ribbon she was wearing that day.
"Anyway, see you around."
Without another word, she turned away and drifted down the hall, walking alone and taking no notice of the stares following in her perfumed wake. Stan watched her as well, vision blurring a little from the shot he'd taken in the bathroom during lunch but sharp enough to take in her slender fragility, coltish legs wrapped in white leggings under a wispy blue dress. He almost went up to Kevin to offer his condolences for his shattered pride but decided against it. If he'd been in his position he wouldn't want any half-assed sympathy; no, he'd want to slink off to the shadows to lick his wounds in peace.
It wasn't too long before Kylie had created quite a swath of casualties through South Park High; decimated hearts scattered hither and yon. She was unperturbed though and she was never unkind, just matter-of-fact and unrelenting in her casual honestly. She wasn't afraid to speak her mind nor was she afraid to stand up for those around her, which everyone learned one fateful day in mid-December.
Lunch was in full swing, the cafeteria filled with voices and clinking cutlery; trays being slammed down and chairs scraped back. Kylie was sitting at her usual place in the middle of the room, a Tab clutched in one hand with a red and white striped straw laid against plump lips. She was paging through a Cosmo as the other girls gathered around her, Wendy sitting off to her side and Heidi taking the other seat beside her. Stan was sitting across the room with Kenny and Cartman but his thoughts weren't with them, his entire being focused on the redhead sitting like a queen among her handmaidens.
"Dude, you've been so spacey lately," Kenny commented, biting into an apple. He followed Stan's gaze and smirked, shaking his head a little. "So, you're caught under her spell too?"
Stan shook himself from his quiet vigil and felt for his flask in his pocket, having every intention of taking a quick nip after he ate his sandwich. He cocked an eyebrow at Kenny, annoyed at being pegged and even more irritated at himself for being so obvious.
"It isn't like that," he snapped, biting into his sandwich and wrinkling his nose; egg salad, again.
"Oh?" Kenny asked, setting his apple aside. "Do tell."
"What's there to tell?" Stan replied, agitated as his morning buzz wore off. Maybe he'd just forgo the fucking sandwich and dive right into the flask instead. "I think she's interesting. That's all."
"You think she's hot, don't lie," Cartman interjected, scooping up some residual nacho cheese with one plump finger. "Just like every other fucker in this stupid school."
Stan glared at him, almost feeling irrationally angry that someone like Cartman could lay eyes on Kylie and appraise her like she was nothing more than livestock.
"She's attractive," he conceded through gritted teeth. "But that's not the point."
"Then what is the point?" Kenny asked, propping his head in his hand and glancing at Stan with genuine interest; blue eyes devoid of antagonism.
Stan lapsed into a contemplative silence, hardly able to formulate a response because he scarcely knew the answer himself. How could he explain that he clung to the bewitching redhead because she actually captured his interest, something that hadn't happened in so long he could barely conceive of it. He'd been drifting through the days like a sleepwalker, Jack Daniels burning through his blood and making the waking hours bearable, but after Kylie had arrived, he almost felt like he'd partially woken up. True, he was still drinking, but he didn't feel as listless, the hopelessness abating somewhat when his eyes settled on her; her fire lighting up the world and making him feel something for once.
If Stan had been better able to articulate himself he might have been able to piece together some of his thoughts, but as it stood he could only shrug and clutch at the flask in his pocket. His gaze flitted back to Kylie and his heart almost stuttered to see her lean her head back and laugh at something one of her friends said, pearly teeth shining among glittery lip gloss. She was a vision in a hunter green sweater dress, a matching headband pushing her scarlet curls off of her forehead. All at once though, she righted herself and when her eyes drifted upward they immediately locked with Stan's, and the connection was like a streak of lightning pointed straight at his core. After a moment, she winked slowly, feathery lashes resting against soft, freckled skin.
"Dude, did she just wink at you?" Kenny asked in an awed voice. "You saw that, right?"
"N-no, of course not," Stan stammered, hardly believing what just happened. It had been a fluke, right? There was no way she would've ever afforded even that small gesture to someone like him, a quiet, out of the way person who could barely struggle through the days.
"You should go talk to her," Kenny said, tapping him excitedly on the arm. "I think she's sort of into you, man."
"Sort of into me? That's reassuring," Stan replied, rolling his eyes. He'd immediately broken eye contact with her as soon as she'd made that slight overture, too afraid to look back and risk meeting her gaze again. Now he really needed a drink, to slow his frantic heartbeat; to quiet his racing thoughts. Before he could stand and flee to the bathroom though, a commotion could be heard coming from Kylie's table.
"Excuse me?" Kylie was saying, looking up at Clyde with obvious distaste, perfect eyebrows arched. He was leaning on the table like he owned the place, cocky attitude on full display as he leered at the scandalized redhead.
"I said I want to take you out this Saturday," Clyde said, sliding one hand into the pocket of his letterman's jacket. Ever since he'd become the captain of the football team he'd walked around campus like he had a set of sterling silver testicles; his entire manner radiating a cock of the walk superiority. It was undeserved, but that didn't stop him at all.
Kylie glanced around the table like she was conspiring with her own personal court, the other girls watching with narrowed eyes as they took in the scene. When she looked back at Clyde she seemed even more irritated.
"I thought you were going out with Bebe," she said, picking up her Tab again and slowly removing the straw and laying it aside.
"Bebe? Please, I dropped her this morning," Clyde replied, waving a hand dismissively. "Besides, I've been wanting to ask you out since the first day you got here."
"Is that so?" Kylie asked. Turning her head, she looked at Wendy. "Would you mind moving aside for a second? This will only take a moment."
Wendy looked puzzled but did as Kylie asked, standing up and moving out of the way so there was no one between Kylie and Clyde.
"Bebe really cared about you, you know," Kylie said, holding the Tab loosely; her casual tone belying the expression on her face. "She was crying in class this morning. Did you know that?"
"So?" Clyde shrugged dismissively, standing and jamming his other hand in his jacket pocket. "I made it pretty clear when we first started going out that I didn't want anything serious with her. It's her own fault for getting attached."
Kylie smirked and shook her head, fluffy curls catching the overhead lights and illuminating copper highlights. She looked around at the girls again, who were all radiating hostility at this point; almost the entire cafeteria zeroing in on the melodrama unfolding.
"Did you hear that, girls?" She asked, incredulously; her tongue drifting over her full bottom lip. "It's Bebe's fault for having feelings. Isn't that rich?"
"Hey, that's not what I -"
"Quiet," Kylie said, softly, cutting him off. She cut her eyes back to Clyde and now her whole expression had changed, raw fury only serving to make her prettier. Her eyes darkened slightly, taking on the appearance of a forest deluged in shadow.
"You know what you are?" She asked, standing slowly and brushing at her dress daintily. "Hmm?"
"No, what?" Clyde asked, suspicion finally registering on his face. He could be considered boyishly handsome, even if his demeanor gave off a callous disregard for basic decency.
"You're the walking talking equivalent of a yeast infection," Kylie said. "You're the type of person that does shitty things and then blames the other person for being hurt. Just so you don't have to take ownership for being an insufferable prick. Does that sound accurate?"
A hush fell over the room as everyone stared at Clyde, complete shock stealing the cockiness from his features. Soft giggles could be heard running through the crowd, but other than that it was so quiet that you could've heard a pin being dropped. He turned bright red and when he drew his hands from his pockets, Stan could see that they were clenching into shaking fists.
"You fucking bitch," he seethed. "Who the fuck do you think you're talking to?"
"I already told you, the embodiment of an intolerable infection," Kylie shot back, not missing a beat. "You're also the type of person who calls a girl a bitch just for speaking the truth. Typical." In an instant, she swung her arm upward and unleashed a stream of fluid from her bottle of Tab, the contents drenching Clyde's face. He just stood there, completely taken aback as a ripple of discord broke through the crowd; everyone coming to life at once.
"I think it goes without saying, but there's no way in hell I'd ever go out with you," she added, setting the empty bottle down gently. "But thanks, anyway."
Clyde seemed to have exited his own body as the entire cafeteria began to laugh, the fluid soaking into his hair and drenching the front of his jacket. Kylie was gathering her things as the girls at the table pointed at Clyde, all of them erupting into gales of giggles at his humiliation. He didn't move an inch even when Mr. Mackey blustered over, his face stony as he swooped down on a very calm Kylie.
"Young lady, you march yourself -"
"Down to the office, I know," Kylie interrupted, already walking away. She glanced over her shoulder at the other girls and waved a little. "Let's meet up at my place after school, okay? We'll help Bebe celebrate her liberation from that poor example of the patriarchy." As she walked by Clyde she patted his arm condescendingly.
"Better luck next time, tiger."
Once again, every eye fell on Kylie as she sashayed out of the cafeteria, the din only truly returning once she was gone. Mr. Mackey glanced at Clyde and shook his head tiredly, daring to put his hand on Clyde's shoulder and directing him toward the bathroom. Clyde angrily shook him off and finally seemed to wake up, stalking out of the room as his face continued to burn a bright red; jeers and taunts following him as he went. Stan just sat in silence, his thoughts drifting away from the room and following Kylie instead.
"Okay, maybe you talking to her wouldn't be the best idea," Kenny commented, biting into his apple again. "She seems a little feisty."
"Clyde has a point, you guys," Cartman chimed in, slurping up some Coke. "She's kind of a bitch."
"You would say that," Stan said, pushing himself up from the table. "You're a shit stain just like Clyde."
"Where are you going?" Kenny asked, smirking at Cartman as he shot daggers at Stan; muttering under his breath.
"To the can," Stan replied, already turning away; the flask practically burning a hole in his pocket. "See you in class."
He walked, head down, to the bathroom, ignoring the aftermath of Kylie's public demonstration, gossip flowing through the air like noxious vapor. Walking into the silent room, he headed into the first stall and immediately felt calmness descending as he shut the door and locked it. Fishing the flask out of his pocket, he plopped down on the toilet and took a long pull, Jack burning down his throat nicely as it settled in his empty belly. He hadn't finished his lunch so he was almost certain he was going to be sitting pretty before too long; the haze helping him coast through the rest of the day.
As much as he tried to empty his mind, his thoughts kept turning back to the tempestuous redhead, her flashing eyes and cutting words; brash confidence threading through everything she did. He just couldn't help but admire her unspoken faith in herself, offering up no apologies for her conduct; walking through the world like she owned it. If anything, her entire personality shouted to the world at large that it owed her something. He smirked, remembering her flinging her drink in Clyde's face, his utter consternation as the fluid flowed down his skin.
"That fucking bastard," he murmured, taking another sip. "He deserved it."
Idly, he glanced at the tiled wall next to him, his eyes floating over ghostly graffiti from bygone days; most of it unspeakably crude. In bright red marker someone had written "For a good time call Kylie: 1-800-CUNT" in huge block letters, no doubt penned by one of her spurned suitors. Rolling his eyes, Stan reached into his backpack and pulled out a black Sharpie and set to work blotting it out, annoyed that people would respond this way to being rejected. As he eradicated it, he noticed another message that genuinely made him smile:
"I DESERVE THE WORLD."
After he finished covering up the offensive graffiti, he circled the statement and added a couple stars for good measure; Kylie's face clear in his mind with every mark he made. Vaguely, he became aware that he was feeling the first stirrings of desire as her smile rested in his thoughts, and quickly he reached for his flask and drank deeply; relishing its burn.