Summary: A drunken accident leads to fight between the two Super Bfs. Which leads to distance and silence. Both are left to think their relationship over while figuring out new feelings.

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"Your lockers a mess."

Thin, slender fingers reach up and rest on my shoulder as my head turns in my friends direction. He stares at me with his crazy hazel eyes, his maniacal little smile adorns his face and fits his many out of whack features. I lick my teeth—accessorized with braces. I was envious of Kyle, my friend. He had a stunning smile and milky, smooth skin. Decorated with these freckles that made him look adorable. Or well, as adorable as someone dressed like a homeless guy could look.

"oh?"

I say, not really meaning it to sound questioning. He nods and runs a hand through his unruly red hair. This motion reminds me of the few times he had not worn his hat in middle school. How his curly red hair would be sticking up in all places, Frizzy and untamed. Except now that we hit high school the hat was in the back of his closet. And with this new fad he was going through it seemed as if he just didn't care if it looked a mess.

He now looks up. Suddenly looking serious, he takes both of his gloved hands and rest one of them on each shoulder—squeezing.

"Stan, tell me. Your not becoming a hoarder are you?" He smiles at me and I just know he was mocking me. I lightly push his chest.

"Dude not cool! Don't make fun of me!" Kyle just continues to look down at me with that chesire cat smile. I sigh and pinch the bride of my nose, eyelids snapping closed as I ponder why this douchebag was my friend.

We've been friends since middle school, when north park and south park got mixed together into the same one. It started out in health class. I was confused and dazed. The funny thing was. North Park was also well known to be the richest town in the Park area. The kids wore famcy shoes and hats—bought from expensive brands and whatnot. I was unfortunate enough to be born in this rich neighborhood. Grandpa having lots of money to keep a roof under his head.

And that was pretty much it. Dad worked as a geologist and I worked the paper route.

All I remember from that day was this;

Staring with my big blue eyes at my old peers from North Park. I felt alone and confused—I was never so fond of any of them in the first place. Never was I invited to birthday parties or social events...what would make middle school different? I remember resting my head down on the cold surface of my desk. I remember hearing the loud screaming and obnoxious, maniacle laughter of someone I'd grow to hate. But most of all; I remember being pushed out of my chair.

And onto the cold floor.

"CAN IT FATASS. Like hell you'd ever be able to bag the new chicks. You couldn't even get Samantha Dunskin to look at you in 4th grade!"

I groan as I rub my lidded eye with the back of my hand. No one had noticed that I had been pushed down to the ground, considering the green hatted boy in a bright,orange jacket And a tubby boy with a blue and yellow beanie were going at it—I didn't blame them. They seemed to be fighting so intensely with each other.

I bite my lower lip and pick myself up, looking down. As I begin to back away from this boy with the green hat...I seemed to have moved too slow. Because I get whacked on the forehead with the back of his hand.

There is a small silence as everyone turns their eyes on me. Looking me up and down and examining my features. I was a new topic of interest for most. Others see nothing new—and after gaining the necessary information of who just got whacked in the face; they turn back to their introduction to health papers.

The green hatted boy looks over his shoulder at me. And for the first time in my life, I met those crazy Hazel eyes. The ones that may have been so stable at that time. Normal, at peace. But fiery and full of passion.

His whole body turns in my direction and rest a hand on my shoulder, frowning.

"Ay, sorry dude. Didn't mean to whack you."

For a moment I am lost, staring into those eyes. They were alluring.

But then I realized that time wasn't frozen. That the eyes I was staring in were shifting, looking to the side of the room where big, curious eyes were gazing at us.

I snap out of it, realizing he probably said something.

"H-huh?" I say in a low voice. He smiles at me.

"I said I'm sorry. I'm assuming you don't hear much of the gossip at North Park. My names Kyle Broflovski—and for the record. You might want to back off when the two of us are going at it."

I nod, my top row of teeth meeting my lower lip. His body begins to turn and I feel so much anxiousness as he begins to push himself past other students in the journey to his desk. I could feel the fatter boys eyes on me, as well as everyone else's as I squeeze my eyes shut, shouting out the words that would soon lead to a beautiful friendship.

"My name is Stan Marsh, a-and I LIKE YOUR HAT."

The boy pauses and looks back at me, smiling wide.

"Well Stan, you have good taste. Your alright."

And thats how I was landed with this jerk.

"I hate you so much Kyle..." I say as I shake my head. I can feel that stupid trademark grin of his. There is silence; but he knows that I feel just the opposite.

I frown and grab hold of the loose fabric on his raggidy brown jacket. Slowly I drag him towards the direction of the nest. The front of the school where everyone gets dropped out and picked up.

"Stan! So demanding!" He says as he continues to be dragged.

"Shut up Kye. We have to get to my house . Shelly is out and I want to drink some of her alcohol." I say, looking back at Kyle. He rolls his hazel eyes and I am tempted to stop and just smack him.

"What?"

"Oh nothing." He says. I stop and turn around abruptly.

"WHAT?" I ask, annoyed.

He laughs, resting both hands on my shoulder as he looks me straight in the eyes.

"Stan. Since when do you drink?"

I glare at my super best friend in annoyance.

Was he...doubting me?

"Kye. We've been to fucking parties together. Since forever. Don't tell ME you want to miss out on a chance to get drunk of of your mind..." I grumble the last part, making it come out kind of hard to hear. His eyes go wide and he lightly pushes me.

"Hell no, Stan!"

"Thought so"

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Next chapter is Kyle's POV. Sorry to stop there. =n= But It really needs to be told from Kye's point of view k?