DISCLAIMER: I don't own South Park. It was created by Trey Parker and Matt Stone, and is aired on Comedy Central. I am using South Park for non-profit entertainment only.

Dirty Little Truths

Introduction

Words: 3,612

...

Ugh. I hate Mondays. After attempting to murder my alarm clock for the fourth time this morning, I lazily rolled out of bed. The clock read 6:47. Well, fuck. School started at 7:30. I got out of bed and stumbled to the bathroom. Once I was there, I stared at my reflection in the mirror. I was wearing an oversized navy blue Terrance and Philip shirt and red boxers. My black hair was messy and fluffy. Damn, I needed a haircut. I stepped into the shower, attempting to shake off my exhaustion from staying up until 2:30 the night before. I turned on the water. Oh FUCK it was cold! After the water warmed up I worked my Head and Shoulders shampoo through my hair before putting the same brand of conditioner in it. Next I washed my whole body with strawberry shower gel. Think smelling like strawberries is gay? High school girls like strawberries a lot fucking better than the weird-ass smells of "manly" things. I rinsed myself off with cold water and exited the shower, wrapping a towel around my lower half and walking to my room to get dressed. I stared at my closet for a few seconds before grabbing a pair of black boxers, slightly ripped skinny jeans, brown fluffy snow boots, a dark blue long-sleeved shirt, a red scarf, red gloves, my favorite red and blue poofball hat, and a Honey Badger t-shirt. After stuffing books and shit into my red backpack and slinging it onto my shoulder, I walked back to the bathroom. I dropped the backpack onto the floor and rapidly brushed my teeth before I picked up the backpack again and walked downstairs, taking an apple and an energy bar from the kitchen.

"Have fun at school, honey!" My mom, Sharon Marsh, called after me as I walked out the door.

"Bye Mom." I murmured tiredly in reply. After I grabbed my brown snow jacket from the coat hanger, I walked swiftly to the bus stop, hoping not to be late.

"Hey dude." Kenny McCormick greeted. "...Some night last night, huh?" He was referring to my tired eyes and tousled hair.

"Not now, Kenny..." I groaned.

"Come on, spill!" he encouraged. Kenny's one of my closest friends. Today he was wearing an orange fluffy snow coat, dark brown boots, brown gloves, and orange snow pants. He's poor as fuck. He buys all his clothes from thrift stores, and usually has a messy appearance. Back in seventh grade his grandpa (who he didn't really know) died, so his family got whatever money the guy had. Sadly, his dad and older brother blew a lot of the money on beer and cigarettes, but they spent a lot of it on food too. He grew a lot that year, and now he's 5'9- the same height as me. He has alluring blue eyes and charmingly unkempt blonde hair. Last year he got into a really bad fight and ended up losing two of his teeth, and because his family can't afford braces, the teeth that are left are really uneven. Kenny's also bisexual, and I'm pretty sure that he wants to fuck me.

"Nothing happened, dude. I was just talking to Wendy on my phone all night." I muttered.

"Well that's no fun. Unless it was phone sex!" Kenny said.

"I told you, Kenny. I'm still waiting for her. We're only 15, anyway."

"Yeah yeah, Stan. I know." Kenny said dismissively, waving me off as someone else arrived.

"Hey Kyle! Damn, and I thought I was late!"

"Hey Stan." Kyle Broflovski replied with a tired smile, probably deciding to ignore my comment.

"Are you okay? You look exhausted." I ask worriedly.

"Well I...sort of pulled an all-nighter last night." he said, gently laughing. "I'm such a fucking idiot."

"What? And you didn't text me?" I scolded teasingly. Kyle's been my super best friend ever since we were babies. People sometimes think we're gay lovers and we do share a lot of gay moments, but we don't care. Right now he's wearing a orange snow coat, dark green skinny pants, light brown tall boots, a green scarf, green gloves, and his old green ushanka. His red hair used to be in the style of a frizzy Jewfro, but he cut it short in 7th grade. Now, whenever he takes a shower, he uses a de-frizzing shampoo and conditioner on his hair, then straightens it with a straightening-iron thingy. The result is soft, touchable red locks. I love it and touch it all the time, but like most girls, he yells at me when I do. He has innocent emerald eyes that I stare happily into on a daily basis. See why people think we're gay? Anyways, Kyle is a really caring person who always knows how to comfort someone. Also, he's one of the best students at our high school. I admire that about him.

"No time, Stan. Since I was hanging out with you guys all weekend I couldn't finish three essays, a huge pre-calc assignment, a science paper, or study for the test on Friday!"

"Is all of that due today?" I question, panicking slightly.

"No, most of it is due next week, I-" Kyle started.

"Next week? Why'd you do all of it then? And why are you studying for the test every single day?" I don't understand Kyle at all.

"To get it done! I'm not a procrastinator like you." he states affectionately. "And I have to study for the test each day so that I won't forget a thing about anything that could be in it."

"...wow. Wow Kyle. That's amazing."

"You guys have ALL that work to do? That fucking sucks ass." Kenny laughs.

"Kenny, you troll. I wish I wasn't in all honors classes. Whoever put me in them is some kind of sadist, I fucking swear." I groan. At that moment, Cartman walks up to us.

"Hey, fags."

"Um...hi Cartman." Kyle says absently. Awkward silence. "Yeah, I'm great, Cartman, thanks for asking. How are you fucking doing?"

"God, Jew, get the sand out of your vagina." Cartman comments. What an ass.

"Jesus, Cartman. Kyle was up studying all night last night. Shut the fuck up." I scold, happily defending Kyle.

"Trying to stick up for your little boyfriend, are we, Stan?"

"Cartman, he's not my boyfriend and you know it." Jesus Christ. With Cartman you can never know what to expect. I mean, he most likely has serious mental problems. Anyway, he used to be pretty much obese. He got sick of everyone calling him fat, though, so he awkwardly came to me for help in the summer before 9th grade. Honestly, I don't know why he came to me, but I guess Kenny just doesn't eat very much and there's no way Cartman could do that, and Kyle...well, Kyle's slim and toned but Cartman would just be too embarrassed to go to him. Also, I eat almost as much as Cartman but I work out on a daily basis so I'm mostly lean muscle, and therefore I know lots of muscle-building (and fat-burning) techniques. Ugh, I sound like a girl. Anyways, I decided to not be a dick and help him. He said he wanted to "boost his reputation" for high school. It was hard though. I had to force him to do 25 pushups and 40 sit-ups whenever he tried to eat anything processed. This plan caused us to break out in fights a lot. That helped get rid of fat as well. Also I had to make him eat salads, vegetables, and all-natural foods. Right now he's 5'10 and still big-boned, but he has a flat stomach and a fair amount of muscle all around. I'm...actually sort of proud of him. Don't tell anyone that though. Today he was wearing a big red jacket, brown pants, a yellow scarf, yellow gloves, big black boots, and his turquoise and yellow hat. He styles his brown hair everyday, and he has piercing hazel eyes that can stare right through you.

"Oh, Stan. You don't have to lie to me!" Cartman said. Ugh. Cartman fails at life. Nothing he says gets to me...unless it's about Wendy. But he doesn't need to know that.

"Shut up, fatass." Kyle saved.

"Ay! I'm not fat anymore, Jew!"

"You were fat for over 10 years of the years I've known you, Cartman. I'm not gonna stop." Kyle countered.

"Your mom is a fat bitch, but you don't tell her she is, Kahl!" Cartman retorted angrily.

"Don't call my mom a fat bitch!" Kyle responded, now getting flared up. Cartman grinned at this, and they plunged into an active, vulgar argument. Finally, the bus arrived. It was obviously late, and now I'm gonna have to deal with walking into class late. Again.

...

"Kyle Broflovski and Stan Marsh! You're late to class again, I see." Mr. Garrison taunts in his stupid voice. Ha. Just as I predicted. Why is this assmunch teaching Honors classes anyway? "What were you two lovely boys up to together?" A few people in the class snickered loudly. Ugh. Not this again. Kyle gave me a worn-out, exasperated look. I sighed and decided to do the talking for him.

"Mr. Garrison, sir, the bus was late again. We're sorry for the delay." Why do I have to pretend to respect this asshole of a teacher? It's cruel. I looked around the classroom. Even though smart, attentive people were supposed to be in this class, everyone tried their hardest to be in the back of the room. The only seats left were right in front of Mr. Garrison. Ugh. Fan-fucking-tastic. Even Kyle, being as academically hardworking as he is, visibly grimaces as he sits down next to me.

"As much as I'd love to believe you, Stanley, I doubt that that's the case. Don't let it happen again, okay?" Mr. Garrison continues. Luckily he doesn't say anything more after that, and starts to "teach" his class. I prop my head up on my hands and stare at the clock, awaiting the end of the period.

...

At about 5:37 P.M. on Friday I was laying in my bed listening to my iPod, completely bored. Kyle had scored 100% on his pre-Calculus test. I got 76%. How does Kyle fucking do it? Well, I guess he studied for it every day. I did okay though. 76% isn't that bad. I felt my phone vibrate on my chest. Finally.

"stan! theres a party at bebes tonite. its at 8. be there ;)" Kenny McCormick, 5:38 P.M. Aw, fucking sweet, dude! I haven't gone to a party in like, forever.

"Kyle! Are you going to Bebe's party tonight? :)" Stan Marsh, 5:40 P.M.

"Yep! I'm done with all the homework I got last Friday, so I'm free." Kyle Broflovski, 5:42 P.M.

"I'm coming over. :D" Stan Marsh, 5:43 P.M.

I looked around the house for another person. Sharon was away on a "date" with her "girlfriends". I still have no idea why moms call their female friends girlfriends. I found Randy watching TV.

"Dad, I'm staying over at Kyle's tonight, okay?" I told him. He shot me a suspicious look.

"Again? Stan, I'm getting a bit concerned." He said. Of course he was afraid that I was gay for Kyle. Psh.

"Fine, Dad. I'm going over to Kyle's and then to a girl's party." I admitted the truth.

"That's my Stan! Go get 'em, son!" His got up and slapped me on the back.

"Ow." I muttered. "Um...thanks, Dad. Bye." I slipped on my overcoat and walked out the door, reaching Kyle's house in about five minutes. Instead of ringing the doorbell, I decided to text Kyle.

"Answer the door, bitch." Stan Marsh, 5:56 P.M. In about twenty seconds, the door was opened to reveal Kyle in all his glory, without his hat on. His hair had regained some of its waviness but hadn't completely poofed out yet.

"Hey Kyle." I greeted happily, walking into his house.

"Hey Stan." he replied, giving me an affectionate hug.

...

Kyle and I did nothing together for two hours, and now we're getting ready for the party.

"Babe. Are you going to Bebe's party? :)" Stan Marsh, 8:02 P.M.

"Yeah, totally. You're going too, right?" Wendy Testaburger, 8:03 P.M.

"Yeah. See you there gorgeous." Stan Marsh, 8:04 P.M. Sweet. If all else fails, I can just make out with my awesome girlfriend.

"C'mon Kyle, let's go." I said to the redhead, putting my arm over his shoulder and leading him out the door. Bebe's house was literally a few houses away from Kyle's. It took us about two minutes to reach the party, and we made a grand entrance when I picked up Kyle bridal-style. Sure, I was just asking for people to tease me about whether I'm straight or not, but most people knew that we really were just best friends. The only two people who I really knew who teased about it a lot were Cartman and Mr. Garrison. As we walked in there was an outbreak of "Eyyyyyyyyyyy!"s and some people actually clapped.

"Let...me down! Let me fucking down, Stan!" Kyle protested, struggling in my arms.

"But Kyle...you know you like it." I teased, smirking seductively at him. His mouth went agape and he blushed tomato-red. "It was a joke, dude." I laughed.

"Aghh...let me down...!" He struggled harder. I finally gave in and set the shorter boy onto the floor. At that moment, Bebe walked up to us.

"Hey boys." She smiled, curling a strand of hair in her fingers. "Glad you could come...especially you, Kyle." I wasn't offended. Bebe has always thought that Kyle had a great fucking ass, and pretty much all the girls in my class want to fuck me anyway so with Bebe I can catch a break. Kyle blushed slightly, again. But before he could say anything...

"Heeeeeeeeeeeeyyyy guysssss!" Kenny exclaimed, walking between Kyle and I and putting his arms around both of us. "Hey...Bebe." he added, winking at the blonde.

"Screw off, Kenny." Bebe retorted, making a pouty face at him. Kenny hadn't gotten laid yet, but he'd sure as fuck gotten close. Kenny was one of the hotter guys in school (no homo) but Bebe wanted to stay away from him for some reason. "Anyways, guys, the snack and drink table is over there, and you guys can hang out wherever! See you later!" She smiled cutely and walked away.

"Damn...she's hot, all right." Kenny comments, and licks his lips when he sees her ass in the short, tight dress she was wearing. "Did you see her tits in that dress?" He whistles. Alright, maybethat's why she's attempting to stay away from him.

"Wendy's hotter." I say proudly. "Correction: She's more beautiful."

"Stan?" A feminine but dignified voice called. That was Wendy. "Are you talking about me?" I turn around to look at her. She was only two inches shorter than me at five foot seven.

"Yes babe, I'm talking about you." I bend down slightly to kiss the top of her head. She responds to this by tilting her head up and kissing me on the lips. I savor her sweet lips for a few seconds before gently entering her mouth. Then I wrap my arms around her and hold her closely. Kyle and Kenny look on.

"I'm soooooo jealous." Kenny mutters, walking away. I finally break the kiss and turn to Kyle.

"Sorry for making you feel like a third wheel, dude," I laughed breathlessly, now putting my arm around Wendy's waist and settling my hand on her slim hip. Wendy and I were both smiling, but I was smiling like an idiot.

"...That's alright, Stan." Kyle says awkwardly, fiddling with his hands self-consciously.

"You know, Kyle, you should give Bebe a chance. She, well, she really likes you." Wendy tells him with a smile and heart-melting kindness. I turn to her, mouth agape, before grabbing her and smashing our lips together. The kiss was sloppier this time, and I brought one of my hands up to run through her silky raven hair.

"...I'll consider it, Wendy. I guess I should leave you guys alone." Kyle said. Wendy broke the kiss this time.

"No, I'll go. I should go hang out with Bebe. See you around, Stan." She smiled shyly at me before winking and walking off.

"Man..." I sighed. "She's so amazing..." I faced Kyle, smiling dreamily.

"Uh...yeah." Kyle muttered.

"Oh, hey again." Kenny appears again. "I hit on Bebe again. She punched me in the face." He pointed to his black eye, grinning stupidly.

"Damn dude, what did you say?" I ask him.

"'Hey Bebe. Why don't we go upstairs so I can touch your fucking gorgeous tits?'" Kenny admits, not missing a beat.

"Ugh, Kenny. Are you drunk or something?" Kyle questions. Hm...is there alcohol at this party?

"...maybe just a liiiiittle bit." Kenny responds, smiling sheepishly.

"Wow! Is there alcohol here?" I ask excitedly. Sure, 15 isn't the best time to start drinking, but I did it when I was 10 and survived. Besides, don't little kids in Italy drink watered-down wine? Why do we have to be 21 here? Fuck the police.

"Uh-huh. Come over here, bro." He leads me to the drink table. There was a punch bowl, cans of soda in a container of ice, and a closed ice chest. There was a piece of paper on the top that said "WARNING. DRINK AT YOUR OWN RISK. -Bebe :)" I laughed slightly at the note, and opened the chest. It was full of beer cans. I shrugged and grabbed one, opening it and taking a few sips.

"Jesus Christ beer tastes bad." I comment, grimacing.

"Keep drinkin', dude." Kenny encourages.

"Stan, is this really a good idea?" Kyle asks me worriedly. "You really shouldn't-"

"Kyle, loosen up. You should have some too." I tell him, smiling and taking another can out before handing it to him. He sticks his tongue out at the can and hands it to Kenny.

"More for me." he shrugs before chugging it. I drink some more as quickly as possible. Pretty soon I was finished with the can so I grabbed another one. I wanted to feel the buzz soon.

"Please, Stan...don't you remember what happened when-" Kyle continues, but cuts himself off when Clyde Donovan and Token Black walk up.

"Chug! Chug!" Clyde cheered, jumping up and down. Token shrugs and grabs a Dr. Pepper.

"I'm not getting drunk." He murmurs.

"Well I am." says Clyde, taking a beer and drinking it so fast he chokes.

"Idiot." Token mutters.

"Hey guys." I greet. "Where's Craig at? I haven't seen him yet." Craig Tucker was part of my usual lunch group. Most of the time he didn't really say much and could be kind of a dick, but he was my friend nonetheless. A better friend than Cartman, anyway.

"He's just laying on the couch and flipping people off as they walk by." Token answers while Clyde starts to chug another beer. "Clyde, you're going to kill yourself."

"Challenge accepted!" I heard Clyde declare. Great. I finished my second beer and took out yet another one. I was feeling a bit drunk now. After talking with Token, Clyde, and Kenny for a little longer and drinking more beer, I finally felt wasted.

"I love you...guys." I slurred. "Let's get...married."

"I love you too, Stan." Kenny agreed. "Let's make sweeeet love in the...garden." We laughed drunkenly.

"No, noo...let's make love in...ass..." Clyde added.

"Great...great idea, Clyde!"

"My peniiiiiis is 10 inches long."

Token shook his head and walked away with a smug smirk. Kyle bit his lip, hung his head, and trotted off.

"Kyle?!" I shouted. "Don't go, bro!" But he didn't look back. I shrugged, my hazy mind deciding that he was okay.

I think I kissed Kenny at one point, but I'm not sure. The rest of the night went by in a blur.

...

"Stan, wake up! You have to leave NOW!" Bebe yelled, shaking me awake. I tried to focus my blurry vision.

"H-huh...?" I muttered.

"My parents are almost here!" She helped me up and led me out the door.

"Sorry, Stan. Walk home, quick! You were asleep in my guest bedroom all night. Go, go, go! Bye!" She pushes me out the door. I stand there, confused. ...Huh?

What the fuck happened last night?