I really just felt like doing something light-hearted, something teen rom-com-esque. Here is the result!


'Good Morning South Park! I'm Lindsey Logan and I'll be bringing you our top stories shortly, but first here's a nice melody to get you up and moving from The Bellamy Brothers.' As the opening bars of Let Your Love Flow rang out of Stan's tinny radio he sighed and wound the window down again, the September chill infiltrating the car.

"HURRY UP KY!" He yelled at the green clapboard house before tapping his fingers on the steering wheel irritably. What on Earth was she doing in there? When she had yelled down from the window ten minutes previous she had been fully dressed, hadn't she? Stan's impatience had him doubting himself. He leaned out the window once more: "WHAT ARE YOU DOING? GET YOUR-" Stan jumped as the front door to the house swung open suddenly and a short but domineering figure stepped out on to the porch.

"Stanley Marsh!" Mrs Broflovski called. "What do you think you're doing screaming like a banshee outside my house?" She scolded him before adding: "A gentlemen would have come inside to wait, not hollered after my daughter like a New Yawk cabbie."

Stan gripped the wheel nervously now. Even though he had been acquainted with Mrs Broflovski since he was a child and knew her to be perfectly harmless if not strict, all four foot nine of her still set him on edge. "Sorry Mrs Broflovski." He offered as he ran his hand through his hair to steady his nerves. "Is Kyla ready yet? Only we'll be late for homeroom if she-" As if on cue a fiery haired whirlwind shot past Mrs Broflovski toward Stan. She was still in the process of chewing half a piece of toast in her mouth, her backpack and jacket swung from her arms and her thick soled boots pounded on the porch steps like thunder.

"Kyla!" Her mother cried, evidently caught off guard. "What-"

"Bye ma!" Kyla called over her shoulder having swallowed her rushed breakfast. As she slammed the passenger door of Stan's car she stared at him incredulously and Stan froze, completely paralyzed under her gaze.

"What are you doing?" She asked. "Drive doofus!"

"Right, of course." Stan cleared his throat and fumbled with the key in the ignition. As they breezed along the road Kyla wound the window down and stuck her booted feet up on the dashboard with a contented sigh.

"I can't believe we're seniors this year!" She announced. "I can remember freshman year like it was yesterday…"

"Yeah, and you were late then too." Stan commented, however Kyla only laughed. Kyla had one of the most distinctive laughs Stan had ever heard. Although, and he felt he had the right to say this as her childhood friend and closest confidante, distinctive was…subjective. Kyla's laugh was no girly giggle; it was loud, resonant, and powerful. While it wasn't grating or nasal or a cackle, it still made heads turn. Stan personally thought it was, quite simply, amazing. However he knew others, Eric Cartman cough, cough, who would shudder when they heard it.

"There's coffee in the thermos." Stan offered. Kyla dove for it, sighing happily as she clutched the thermos in her hands.

"Ah, I love you." Kyla sighed, before adding: "You do remember that we're supposed to be meeting everyone at the diner though? First day of school and all?" However, she lapped up the coffee enthusiastically.

"Well, actually, I was kind of wondering if you wanted to do our own thing this year. Petey's off of Elm Street does those amazing quadruple stack pancakes."

Kyla had spent the summer in Washington D.C on a special politics programme for A.P students. She had been debating with other A.P students from across America and had brunches with real senators at the actual White House and it would look phenomenal on her college transcript. He only knew this because his girlfriend, Wendy, had applied for the same programme and been wait listed. Stan had spent his summer under the hood of his new truck while Wendy did laps around the garage lamenting because not only did she not have a backup summer programme but she didn't have any summer plans either. She had turned down a trip to Hawaii with her grandparents with the reasoning she was going to be in D.C.

"That sucks babe. It really does. I know how hard you worked and how much you wanted it, but so did Ky, so that's all the sympathy I can offer." Stan didn't mention how he thought Kyla had cinched it at the interview stage; she had been calm and happy whereas Wendy was too intense, too desperate to prove she was qualified that dare Stan say her downfall had been wanting it too much. Wendy had gone tight-lipped and quiet but knew she couldn't say anything. When she and Stan had begun a 'real' relationship in junior year the first time Wendy had mentioned Kyla and Stan's 'closeness' had been the last. Stan was firm: "I know it's not ideal, your boyfriend's best friend being a girl. However Kyla and I have been friends since we could walk, our families are secondary to each-other. I'm an honorary Broflovski son and she's an honorary Marsh daughter. If you have a problem with Kyla then this will never work." In all respect to her, Wendy had obliged.

Stan had picked Kyla up from the airport since her father was working the day she returned, while her mother's Sedan was in the shop. He had been undeniably excited as he'd spent all summer fixing up his new (second-hand) Trailblazer and for an '88 model it looked damn brand new. At arrivals Stan instantly spotted her, for despite inheriting her mother's stockiness Kyla's fiery curls made it impossible for her to blend in; thick, effulgent red curls, so dark that many people refused to believe wasn't henna dyed. When they were face to face Stan grinned and pulled out her trademark ushanka from behind his back, which Sheila Broflovski had positively forbidden her from taking to D.C: "No daughter of mine is meeting senators in that ugly thing!"

"Oh it's good to be home; darling I missed you." She'd sighed and kissed the hat.

However with a week before school started again that airport pick up was all Stan got to see of Kyla. Every time he called by it seemed her mother was whisking her off somewhere to see a relative or prepare for the upcoming senior year. Basically, Stan wanted his best buddy to himself for just a few hours, rather than having to share her with the rest of their friends. This however, was exactly the reason Kyla wanted to go to the diner. Her nose wrinkled and her freckles danced; she was unimpressed.

"Petey's? On the first day of senior year? Blasphemy, Stanley! Heresy!"

"It was just a suggestion." Stan muttered, swinging his car on the road toward the diner. He could tell how much it meant to her to have one final year of tradition; Kyla was far more sentimental than Stan and Lord knows he had a tough time letting anything go. ('A hoarder' the school councillor had told is mother, who thankfully had been adamant Stan would grow out of it and left him be.) So Stan obliged and chauffeured Kyla to the Three Pines diner. He sat in the corner of the booth and ate his eggs while Wendy cuddled up to him and planned out what they would do with the free period they both shared this semester. He knew her affection was genuine but also that she didn't want to listen to Kyla regale their peers with what she did over summer; Wendy wasn't bitter but she was proud. Stan on the other hand, didn't mind admitting his bitterness. He wanted his best friend to himself for a while, they had been stuck in traffic on the way home from the airport but that still only covered Kyla's summer adventures and briefly Stella's restoration (yes, Stan had named his car). Kyla had been busy ever since and he knew it wouldn't lighten up once the little brainbox started classes. He'd just wanted to see a bad horror movie with her or go on a late night drive to skim rocks across Stark's Pond like they always did over summer. Since Wendy commandeered shot gun in Stan's car from the diner to school, Kyla happily caught a ride in Token's shiny new Range Rover.

"This is so awkward because I used to date him but, don't you think Kyla and Token would make a cute couple?" Wendy's voice broke Stan's reverie as they drove.

"What?" He snorted. "No way. He's too…clean cut for Kyla. He has the brains for her yeah, but he couldn't climb a mountain with her. He'd be too concerned about getting his expensive, top of the range hiking boots dirty."

"True." Wendy laughed.

"Kyla," Stan found himself continuing. "Kyla doesn't care too much about intellect, she wouldn't date an idiot but she'd prefer someone who could get his hands dirty with her, to have fun."

"Like who?"

"Like-" Stan stopped himself suddenly; his cheeks grew scarlet. You were going to say 'me', weren't you, idiot? He thought. While your girlfriend is sat next to you. Dumbass.

"Stan? Why are you blushing?"

"Because…" Stan wanted to pretend to be engrossed in the road but he knew he couldn't avoid it. "Because I hate to admit that my best friend might be super compatible with…Kenny."

Wendy was quiet for a moment and Stan was wondering whether she actually had figured out his real answer, until she said: "Oh wow, I never realised it either, but Kenny and Kyla could actually work." His heart sunk more than he thought it would. No way. Kenny was too abrasive for Kyla, wasn't he? Stan had never been so eager to get to class.

At lunch Stan looked around for Kyla, however when he spotted her enclosed by several girls from their grade he decided he'd better regroup. He grudgingly joined Token, Kevin, Craig and Clyde and was promptly followed by Kenny. Stan didn't mind eating lunch with Token and Kevin, who were decent conversation, and Craig was tolerable most days; Clyde however, ate like a slob and grossed even Kenny out, who would pilfer whatever he could from everyone else's trays. It only got worse when Cartman, Butters and Tweek invited themselves over. Stan ate miserably as his peers bickered, belched and bullshitted.

"So," Kenny announced. "Cathy Shrager stuck her hand down my pants behind the gym this morning."

This was not how Stan had anticipated his senior year starting.

He knew Kyla hadn't forsaken him, she was just catching up with all her friends today; Stan wasn't her only friend in the world whether he liked that fact or not. He was just wanting for more…classy company.

"God, if any more people climb up Broflovski's ass she's gonna' have a hard time running track in gym." Cartman sneered. Stan blushed furiously as if Cartman had read his mind rather than the situation being mere coincidence. Luckily, nobody seemed to notice.

"Because Kyla actually spent her summer doing something interesting and productive Cartman." Token said. "Unlike you, who spent the entire summer playing video games in your mother's basement."

"Like I care about meeting shitty senators." Cartman snapped back. "If I wanted to have lunch with criminals I'd go over to Kenny's house and fight over a toaster waffle with his parents."

"Fuck off Cartman," Kenny retorted. "They were acquitted."

"Anyway," Stan interjected. "You're just pissed off because you don't like Kyla but everyone else does. Which is as ridiculous and petty as it sounds."

"Well of course you would think that Stan, you're her 'best friend', which is really creepy at this age might I add. Who else here actually likes Kyla?" Cartman surveyed the table for a response. The boys all looked at each other in mutual agreement this was a stupid question.

"I like Kyla." Butters spoke up from the end of the table. "She always picks me for her team in gym."

"Yeah after everyone else, Butters." Clyde muttered before conceding: "Yeah I like Kyla."

"I think Kyla's great." Token added.

"See Cartman, stop being an asshole."

"I like Kyla but I don't think she likes me." Craig offered, a statement Cartman immediately seized upon.

"Exactly. Thank-you Craig Nathaniel Tucker." Cartman scoffed, ignoring Craig's following obscenities. "I hear you all singing the Jewesses' praise but I guarantee she doesn't return the sentiment."

"She does too." Stan glared. "Stop trying to drag her down Cartman, it's only the first day back."

"What? I'm just being real bruh." He glanced around again. "Fine, if you're all so convinced that Broflovski doesn't think she's better than all of you then how about we make things interesting?"

Stan's stomach knotted. "Hey, you've twisted everything Cartman, that's not what you first said."

Nobody noticed Stan's objection however as Kenny asked: "Interesting how?"

"I have received an early Christmas gift from my grandmother, who is literally crazy but hey I'm two hundred dollars richer." Cartman cleared his throat. "I think we should all add to this cash pot, make it nice and juicy like a Thanksgiving turkey, and whoever succeeds in getting Broflovski to go with them to Winter Prom also wins the whole pot."

The unimaginatively named 'Winter Prom' was for junior and senior classmen only, although sophomores were allowed providing they were someone's date. It was a concept designed to 'alleviate the winter blues' from supposedly hard working students, as if South Park weren't covered in snow for seventy percent of the year. Stan hadn't attended last year because he and Wendy had had a stupid fight over his bad habit of belching in public and his ever so mature response had been to retaliate with: 'Well I guess I'm not escorting you to Winter Prom.' Wendy had gone with a senior instead. Kyla, who found Stan's situation hilarious, went skiing with her family and proceeded to email him a picture a day of her on the slopes, in the hot tub, even one with Seth Wescott, one of Stan's favourite snowboarders who was taking a secret break at the same lodge. He was mad at her upon her return for all of five minutes until she presented him with Wescott's autograph and a bucket of salted caramel taffy.

Of course, the tables had turned. Everyone was a senior this year and it was their last chance to go to what was actually quite a fun night.

There was silence.

"No way," Clyde said. "You'd never part with two hundred dollars."

"Yuh huh Clyde; I would if I could turn it into more money you stupid dick." Cartman sighed. "It's called making a profit."

"What's the catch, Cartman?" Token asked. "Surely there's some rules, regulations of some sort…"

"Ah I knew I could rely on you Token." Cartman cleared his throat. "I am above all, a business man,"

"And a dick."

"And a racist piece of shit."

"Aye!" Cartman pounded his fist on the table to command their attention again. "To ensure a fair and efficient bet, there must be some rules and even exclusions. One, to participate in and possibly win the pool you have to have paid in yourself. Two, Broflovski cannot know about the pool, the point is to convince her to go with you on no other grounds than that you are secretly a charming gentleman or perhaps in Kenny's case a poor asshole but damn you're a sex-god-"

"It's true." Kenny commented. "It's a blessing and a curse."

"And finally," Cartman pointed at Stan. "Stan cannot participate on the grounds he is her butt buddy."

Stan glared. "Good. Even if I didn't have a girlfriend I wouldn't want to; this thing is stupid."

"Oh yeah, what about girlfriends?" Kevin Stoley finally spoke up. "I don't think Esther would see the funny side of this."

"Another clause, dudes with girlfriends are excluded, so Stan, Kevin and Clyde, see you later." Cartman jerked his thumb over his shoulder.

"In that case I'm out too." Token held up his hands. "I've been Skyping Nichole on her exchange in France, when she returns to school in a couple of weeks we're going to give things another shot."

For some reason Stan's heart sang. Kyla and Nichole were really good friends; Kyla would never date Token if she knew he was involved with Nichole.

"Hey!" Clyde shouted. "I want in on a few hundred bucks! Why should I be excluded because I'm dating Bebe?"

Cartman grinned. "Fine Clyde I'll make you an exception, if you want in I'm not going to stop you, it only increases my winnings."

"You idiot Clyde." Craig sighed.

"I'm still going to refrain, but I'm willing to throw in some good money just to see Clyde participate." Token opened his wallet and pulled out a few crisp bills.

"Cartman," Kenny chirped up. "Can I bring my chip in by yours tonight? I don't have it on me just yet."

"Why, haven't stolen it yet?"

Stan could do nothing but watch as a steady but prosperous pool of money began to collect on the table. It had already begun.


See I even gave you music in the opening sequence, I should write a screenplay.