Author's Note: New fic and this time, surprise, surprise, this is NOT an OC story. I was thinking about it the other day and outside of that series of OC fics I've been doing, I haven't really written real South Park fanfiction. So I thought more about it; what could I write that could possible happen in the chaotic world that is South Park. More importantly. What could I write that would be in the same vein as South Park? Humor, parody, satire, that kind of thing. Thus, the first chapter of a short and sweet story. It's not going to be a long one, not as long as I have been writing but I hope you'll all stick around and read. Old readers, new ones, all are welcomed. So let's do this thing, shall we? Enjoy.
Disclaimer: I do not own South Park.
Warning: language
Chapter 1
It was 'tis the season to be jolly, white Christmas snow falling from a white and gray sky, gently tumbling towards the white powdered earth. Trees once green were coated in white, creating the feeling of a winter wonderland amongst the Rocky Mountains.
In the midst of this scenic landscape resided a small town tucked away in the depths of the mountain range. It was known to those within it and those from without simply by the name of South Park.
Guarding themselves against the chill of winter, families hid themselves in homes of brick and cement, heaters cranked up high and eggnog shared amongst those who were eighteen or older or who could get away with it. Inside these manmade shelters, it was nothing except rosiness and warmth, troubles pushed to the side as the holiday cheer permeated their troubled lives.
Of course, it wasn't just any old time during these winter months, far from it. It was that time of the year, the time of year where faith in humanity was renewed and suicide rates skyrocketed.
It was Christmas.
For those who dared, they ventured out into the frozen world beyond to seek out presents for the good boys and girls as well as the little shits who threatened to call up Child Protective Services if they didn't get that one thing they really wanted. For those who had done their shopping earlier or were procrastinating until the last minute, they remained in their homes, or respective work places, living it up with their families, or coworkers, getting ready for more to come in the upcoming dates until that special day arrived.
You would think that this feeling was all inclusive, anybody and everybody welcomed into it. However, there were those who were excluded no matter how unintentionally. Maybe it was due to having no family of their own. Maybe it was because they didn't have a home at all. Maybe it was because they were packing up to go elsewhere for the holiday season, someplace warm if you know what I mean. Or maybe it was because you were part of the only Jewish family in town and the exclusion was still incidental.
And maybe the fat kid several houses down had something to do with it.
Regardless, in the middle of this winter chill, a young member of this sole Jewish family wearing an orange jacket and green ushanka ventured out from the only building in town without a Christmas tree inside it. Hands gloved in green gloves were slid into the jacket's pockets and shoes that were particularly unfashionable made one step after the other on the icy sidewalk, never slipping once.
Though alone, this ten year old Jewish boy who went by the name Kyle Broflovski was outside of his warm and comfortable home not because he was depressed or anything. No, he just needed some fresh air and a walk around town seemed to be the best prescription. It had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that everyone he knew who wasn't related to him or adopted were too busy to hang out today.
No, really. Absolutely nothing whatsoever to do with that.
Okay, he might have felt a little bit lonely but that was to be expected. But other than that, he was fine. He was desensitized to this whole "all by himself at this time of year thing" he had going on.
He didn't blame any of the guys. They…they didn't know any better. They were all filled with excitement about getting free stuff from a fat man in a red outfit sliding down their chimneys in the middle of the night. It was only natural that they forgot about other things. They'd all come to their senses afterwards in time for New Years'.
Still didn't take away from the fact that he was still by himself.
But he had Hanukkah, didn't he? Presents for eight days! Sure he didn't get school off for it and some of the presents were really lame and what the fuck was up with lighting all those candles anyway? He had been told many a time but it hadn't yet stuck in his head yet. Must be all those kosher latkes he ate around this time of year. Latkes were awesome no matter what Cartman said about them.
Coming to a stop, Kyle looked both ways before crossing the street. In these winter conditions, cars would have a harder time coming to a sudden stop. He had had a few close calls before too, with the other guys definitely. For some reason, Kenny constantly got spooked and ran off and he wouldn't hear from him until the next day for some reason.
Now that he was on the other side of the street, he continued on his way, letting his feet guide him to wherever they wanted to go. He had no particular destination in mind; he was just walking around. Nothing wrong with that.
Yet…was that his imagination or was that Stan's house right over there? It was, wasn't it? He wasn't delusional enough to tell himself that it wasn't. You know, he was just going to walk past it, that's what he was going to do. Walk past it, not even looking at the windows to see the Christmas-y atmosphere inside of it. Just walk pass it Kyle. Just walk…
He was looking towards the windows. Well, at the very least they were frost covered so he couldn't see through them. At least there was that mercy. Thank Jehovah for small—
The window shattered as some object, Kyle couldn't get a good look at it, crashed through it.
"Damn it turd! I'm gonna kill you!"
"Aaaaahhhhh!"
Sounded a lot like Christmas in there.
He continued on his way, not learning from past mistakes and letting his feet guide him to wherever they wanted to go again. Each breath he took laced with the cold chill in the air. Nothing better to wake you up. His travels took him past groups of carolers, all singing songs about the holiday in which he had little involvement with other than to save it once a year or so. He trekked through downtown and Main Street, Christmas decorations from the religious to the secular displayed prominently all over the place. Cars parked up and down the street as shoppers hurried to and fro, laden with bags and packages.
If you listened closely, you could hear fights in some of the stores. Huh, hadn't heard that swear before. Wait until he told the guys it…several days from now. Damn it, school would have to be out now, didn't it? The one place where they were all forced to socialize regardless of time of year.
It was too crowded in these parts, though, and there were a lot of adults. Hardly any kids so really, there was nothing for him here. He changed directions and continued on his way, the crowds of consumers dwindling the further he got away from Main Street. With all this walking he was doing, he was getting a little bit tired. Should he go find a place to sit down and rest or should he head home?
Hmm, didn't feel like going home just yet so he supposed that he'd find some place nice and quiet and try not to think about anything that would get him depressed. There was so much for him to be grateful for that he really had no reason to be depressed, right? He had more than some people had so that had to count for something, right?
You know, all this self-affirmation stuff he was trying to do wasn't really helping. Come on Kyle, get it together. This is an overused plot device here. You're better than this.
Don't think, just find a place where you can take a load off your feet for a while and just…just do something like marvel at the snow or something. Hopefully it wouldn't be too lame because if he got caught at it, he'd either be teased by the other guys or be called a fag. Neither of which were things he wanted happening.
Yeah, this place over here, this quasi-park-like place looked like a good place. And yes, he was aware that he had used the word place three times in the same sentence. So sue him, grammar Nazis. Forgetting that stuff, it was nice here. Really it was. Large trees, a dirt path, even a stone bridge over a babbling brook. What better place to enjoy nature or star in a melancholy montage?
He headed over to the bridge, coming to a stop in the middle of it. Leaning forward on the chest high, for adults, wall that lined the edge of the bridge, Kyle placed his arms on top of the cobble of granite and cement, pushing himself up so that his chest now rested above his arms, his feet dangling in the air.
That was better. Time to let his legs rest a bit. He'd hang out here for a bit before continuing on his walk. In the meantime, he'd take in the trees and the privacy they afforded him from the hustle and bustle of South Park. He let out a sigh and relaxed…
There was an echoing sigh beside him, a few feet away maybe, and he glanced that way while wondering who else was out here.
Imagine his surprise when he found another boy there, about his age too if he were to guess by physical appearance. Clad in black, it seemed this guy had the same idea as him and had propped his upper body on the bridge rail wall, or whatever the term it was for it, his feet dangling a few inches above the bridge floor.
Looked like he had been here a while from the looks of things though how Kyle missed seeing him, he did not know. The dude was dressed all in black, including the scarf, and did not blend in with the white atmosphere. There was no headgear or anything which revealed locks of hair as black as night.
Not that that was unusual or anything. Kyle knew a lot of guys at school with black hair. Girls too if he thought about it. But jeez, he wasn't sure about the pale skin. Did this guy not get out a lot? If that was the case, that might be why he didn't really recognize him. Or he could be someone who moved in recently and this was the first meeting him?
Didn't adults know what moves could do to children? They could be so cruel.
"Hey," he said, trying to be friendly. Now that he was getting a better look, he had the feeling that this guy was also lonely.
Brown eyes moved over and onto him, looking at the Jew inquisitively. "Hey," the boy greeted back, somewhat uncertain.
Still, not much of a talker, huh? Well, let's see… "Nice day," Kyle commented and immediately swore internally at himself. Was that the best he could come up with? Nice day?
"Uh huh," the boy nodded.
"So…what are you doing?" Kyle asked cautiously, thinking that this boy thought he was lame.
"Looking at the snow," the boy answered.
Oh thank Jehovah. He wasn't the only person with that lame idea.
"What about you?" the boy asked.
"Oh. Same thing, I guess," Kyle answered.
"Don't you have any friends you could be with?" the boy asked, Kyle wincing a bit not at the pointed question but also at the high pitched voice that sounded like a seventh grader whenever their voice cracked. Except this wasn't for one hilarious second but perpetual.
Oh, way to go. Ask the one thing that he didn't want to answer. Well, since this boy answered him honestly about the snow, he might as well be honest here too.
"They're all…busy," Kyle said.
"Busy?" the boy asked.
"Yeah, busy. With Christmas," Kyle said.
"Shouldn't you also be busy with Christmas?" the boy inquired further, his brown eyes completely focused on Kyle now.
"Not really," Kyle admitted. "I'm not…my family doesn't celebrate Christmas. We're Jewish."
"Ah," the boy nodded.
"Well, what about you?" Kyle asked, hoping to turn the conversation away from himself. "What about your friends?"
"Don't have any," the boy said. "I have…problems making any."
Well, that last part preempted him from asking further about it. There was still more he could ask, though. "What about Christmas?"
"I don't celebrate it either," the boy replied.
Whoa. Don't tell him that there were two boys, the same age or so, in South Park, Colorado, that didn't celebrate Christmas. What were the odds of that happening?
"Why don't you?" he asked. "Don't your parents…?"
"Not at all," the boy said. "Not even Santa."
Wow. That sounded really…sad in a way. Not even Santa? What kind of bastards were this kid's parents? Even he himself believed in and got all jolly for the jolly old man and his reindeer-driven sleigh. Really, Kyle felt a bit bad for this kid. Say…this kid was alone and he was alone. Maybe they could be alone toget—that was so gay, there're no words to describe it.
Why be alone with somebody else when they could do something together instead?
"Wanna hang out?" he suggested.
The boy blinked at him owlishly. "Hang…out?"
"Yeah, you know, do something," Kyle elaborated. "I don't have anything better to do and I'm guessing you don't either. So let's find something to do."
The boy blinked at him again then nervously answered, "Sure. I guess."
"It'll be fun, trust me," Kyle said soothingly. Then, as if it had occurred to him, he introduced himself. "I'm Kyle," he said and held his hand out for a shake.
The boy stared at him for a moment, uncertainty screaming from his body language yet he hesitantly accepted Kyle's hand and mustered enough confidence to say, "I'm Damien."
Rectus… Dominus… Cheesy Poofs…
"Did you hear something?" Kyle wondered, looking around at their surroundings.
"No," Damien answered.
"…Kay. Well, come on," Kyle said, releasing Damien's hand and gesturing for the other boy to come with him. "My house is this way if you want to come over or is there something you want to do?"
"I'm very new to this," Damien admitted, his uncertainty holding him back. "I'll do whatever you want to do, I guess."
"We'll start with some video games and go from there," Kyle said, planning the rest of the day out in his head. "Do you play video games? Because if you haven't, you've been missing out. What am I saying, of course you play video games…"
By now he was babbling as he led Damien away from the small park and towards his humble home. The black-haired boy didn't seem to mind though so Kyle continued to, in his eyes, make a fool of himself. Still, it was better than being all alone, he had to tell himself. There was still the rest of Christmas break and he was sure that at some point he would get back together with the other guys.
What's the worst that could happen?
Two weeks later…
Stan was not looking well the morning of the first day of school of the new year. No it wasn't because he was sick or recovering from being sick. If only that were the case, he'd still be home and missing school. Well, he wouldn't miss school because who really misses school? Not ten year olds, that was for sure.
The problem that Stan was facing, though school was a big one, was that he hadn't spoken to Kyle in a while. A long while. Eighteen days, fifteen hours, thirty-nine minutes, seventeen seconds, and counting but who was really keeping track of that? He was having trouble remembering when the last time he had even seen his best friend much less spoken with him.
He was worried, wondering if something had happened to Kyle or maybe he had done something wrong and Kyle wasn't speaking with him, or, or something was being hidden from him and it was bad, really bad. Damn it, where was Kyle?!
Well, maybe this drought of his best friend's presence would come to an end this morning. It was the first day of school for the new year and Stan had refused the worry his mother had expressed upon seeing him at breakfast. Stan was going to the bus stop and he was going to see Kyle, maybe demand an explanation or something. Because really, who neglected their friends, hmm?
Really. They had to be major douchebags or something.
That sight that greeted him at the bus stop was Kyle-less though it did have plenty of two other boys, one in an orange parka and the other with a red coat and a yellow poof ball hat. That was okay; while not common there were times when Kyle was the last to show up. Didn't happen often but it happened enough that Stan wasn't ringing any alarms yet. There was still plenty of time for Kyle to show up.
Taking his place in line with his other two friends, his brown coat and red poof ball hat making him stick out from the other two, Stan tuned in to their voices just as Cartman, the one in the red coat and yellow poof ball hat, said, "Okay, okay, I'll ask him Kenny."
Ask him what, he wondered.
"Hey Stan? Have the last couple of weeks been as good for you as they have for me?" Cartman asked.
"Cartman, I don't know how but that sounds so wrong," Stan said.
"What's so wrong about it?" Cartman challenged. "Don't tell me you've been missing the Jew."
Stan stared at Cartman but said nothing. That silence, however, spoke so much to the fat boy.
"Oh. My. God. You are missing him!" Cartman exclaimed. "You can't be serious! Let me tell you, the last couple of weeks have been so great for me. No annoying, Jesus-killing Jews annoying me. 'You're stupid Cartman.' 'That's not going to work Cartman.' 'Shut your fucking face you Anti-Semetic asshole.'" Those last few sentences had been said in a high falsetto. "Nope, heard none of that. It's like I died and went to a Jew-less Heaven."
"I haven't heard from him in weeks," Stan stated.
A muffled reply came from Kenny, the other boy in the orange parka, but Stan easily translated it as, "Really?"
Cartman gasped. "Could it be true? Have my birthday wishes finally come true? Is Kyle dead? Or dying in sweet, self-deserved agony? Oh please let it be both!"
"That's horrible!" Stan exclaimed. Then, almost desperately, "Kenny, have you heard anything from Kyle?"
Kenny shook his head, making the appropriate, muffled, "Nuh uh."
Now Stan was more worried than ever. None of the others had spoken or heard from Kyle in weeks! Was Cartman right? Had something bad happened to his best friend?
The image that sprung to mind was a deathly ill Kyle, practically on his death bed. Weak coughs and harsh rasping that served as breathing made his best friend all that more frail.
"Where are you…cough-cough…Stan?"
The rumbling of the school bus brought him out of his imagination long enough for him to follow after Kenny and Cartman and find a seat on the yellow contraption. No sooner had he found a seat that another awful vision assailed his mind.
This time, it was one of Kyle and his family being held hostage by some stereotypical kidnappers or terrorists. He could practically see Kyle holding his younger adopted brother as tight as he could, tears in the corners of his eyes as he was terrorized by the barrels of machine guns all aimed at him.
"Someone help us! Stan!"
"Hey. Hey." Someone was snapping their fingers by his ear trying to get his attention. "Stan? Hey, I think Stan's broken. Stan? Is something wrong?"
"Don't worry about him, he's just being a little gaywad," Cartman's voice intruded through Stan's imaginative theories. "He hasn't seen his little boyfriend in a while."
"I'm not gay Cartman!" Stan growled at the other.
"Are you talking about Kyle? I haven't seen him in a while."
"I know. Isn't it great?" Cartman chortled. "No more will that Jew sully the air we breathe. I hope some serial killer's torturing him. It's nothing that he doesn't deserve."
Before Stan could further reprimand the anti-Semitic, another vision of Kyle in some dark, dank basement, bound to some kind of chair or device that had lots of sharp instruments attached to it while a deranged psychopath was telling him that he wanted to play a little game. For some reason there was a puppet on a tricycle but that could have been Stan's twisted imagination there. What wasn't twisted was the fear on Kyle's face as he cried out for help.
"Don't hurt me! Please! I'll do what you want! Somebody! Anybody! Help me! Stan!"
So engrossed in this vision that Stan continued to allow it to develop and much to his horror watch it become incredibly bloody, he didn't notice when the bus had arrived at the school, various bodies moving around him to leave. Kenny had to shake him in order for him to get off the yellow vehicle so he wouldn't end up have to take an extended ride to…wherever it was that school buses went when they weren't shuttling kids around. One kid had stuck around on a bus and hadn't been seen again. His name might have been Kevin but Stan couldn't be sure. There were a lot of kids in school named Kevin.
Nevertheless, he followed Kenny off the bus and made it a point to ignore Cartman as the other kept enjoying their Kyle-less world. What did he have to be so happy about, Stan wondered. One of their friends, his best friend, was missing and no one had a clue as to where he was. He could be on some island in the middle of the ocean, starving to death, and calling for help—
Ow. That was the door. Why didn't anyone stop him from running into it?
"HAH! Oh this is great! I've never had such a great day in my life!" Cartman guffawed. "I can't wait to see what happens next! Ain't that right Kenny?"
Kenny said nothing but he did take his eyes off Stan to look at Cartman for a moment before returning his gaze to Stan.
"Kenny?" Cartman tried again when he got no answer? "Come on Kenny, say something. Kenny? Kenny?"
Once again Stan began to tune everything out as he entered the school, heading for his locker like he did every day. He didn't want to listen to Cartman anymore, lest his overactive imagination be inspired to come up with even more gruesome and horrible fates for his best friend. He was easily given to suggestion as it was.
Reaching his locker, somehow not suffering anymore incidents that could potentially embarrass him, he reached over to twist the knob of the combination lock. Turn clockwise twice around, counterclockwise once, then direct to the last number and—his locker wasn't opening. Now that took him out his self-imposed stupor. Trying the combination again, he once again found that his locker wasn't opening. What was this shit? This was his locker! He knew the combination! Why wasn't it—this wasn't his locker.
A glance towards the number on the metal door revealed that he was indeed at the wrong one. In fact, this was Kyle's locker he was at. Which meant there was a different combination involved. Kyle was really on his mind, wasn't he? Oh God, this was torture.
"Dude? Are you alright?"
Stan's eyes widened. He knew that voice! He knew it so well! Almost robotically, his head swiveled slowly to his left and there, right there, looking just the way that he had last scene him was Kyle. He looked alright, perfectly healthy, and no signs of psychological trauma. While the same couldn't be said for himself, Stan felt relief flood through his ten year old body like a flood.
"Thank God you weren't kidnapped by serial killing terrorists," Stan blurted out. He meant every word of it.
Kyle raised an eyebrow. "O…kay… Thanks. I guess. Could you…you know…move?"
"Huh? Oh!" It seemed like any word Kyle spoke could cut through any cognitive haze that his brain could throw up and the boy in the red poof ball hat moved to a side, allowing Kyle access to his locker. He was just so overwhelmed that his best friend was alright and unhurt and hold on a second.
"Why weren't you at the bus stop?" Stan demanded as he remembered what had put him in such a mood.
"Huh?" Kyle was looking at him, confused as to what he was talking about. Eyes lighting up, "Oh. That. We got a ride from my dad."
Hold on. We? As if there was someone else with Kyle? "We? What do you mean by we?" Stan half asked, half demanded.
"I suppose you're going to find out anyway," Kyle said under his breath yet Stan heard his every word. Find out about what exactly? "Stan, over the break, I made a new friend."
Time seemed to stand still along with his heart. Kyle…made a new friend? But…but Kyle sucked at making new friends! And he sucked even more at keeping them! And why did it feel like someone had sucker punched him in the stomach?
"A…new…friend…?" he repeated slowly, the words almost being torn out of him.
"Yeah. He's a guy who goes to school here," Kyle said.
A new friend who was a guy… And went to school here…
Something burning was ignited within Stan, a certain green-eyed monster rearing its head. Only one question was on his mind at the moment.
WHO?
"It's funny really," Kyle continued on, oblivious to the boiling turmoil within Stan. "He's been going to school here for a while and I hadn't noticed. He's a real good guy once you get him to open up. A little weird but a good guy." As he had spoke, Kyle reached to grasp the combination lock dial and spun it clockwise twice, counterclockwise once, then straight to the last number. A click and the door opened.
Stan's nostrils were nearly flaring at this point. Why was Kyle complimenting this asshole who dared become Kyle's friend? He wasn't liking this, not one bit.
"I haven't heard from you since…since Christmas!" Stan exclaimed. "What the hell dude! Are you telling me you've been hanging out with someone else this whole time?"
"What? We haven't? But didn't we…? Oh I see." Forgetting his locker for the moment, Kyle faced Stan completely, a small smile on his lips. "Sorry about that. I lost track of time I guess. I was having so much fun over the break."
Having more fun without him, Kyle meant. Lost track. Right. What was he saying, this didn't sound right. It didn't sound right at all! Stan had been busy frantically waiting to get in touch with Kyle or at least see him and the whole time Kyle was having fun? Without him? And with someone else? What was wrong with this picture?
"Hey dude," Kyle greeted while inadvertently directing Stan's anger at another boy dressed all in black. Stupid black turtleneck. Did his grandmother get him that for Christmas or something? So stupid looking. "Did you wash your hands?"
"Of course," answered the other boy who looked to be their age. Pale-skinned hands were held up as if being presented for inspection. "Feel them if you want."
"How do I know you didn't just get them wet?" Kyle challenged. Goddamn it Kyle, stop being a hygiene freak and introduce them already! He wanted to know this asshole's name so that he could start ripping on it.
"I used soap this time! I swear!" the asshole said defensively.
"Kyle…" Stan grounded out.
"Hmm? Oh sorry," Kyle said. "Stan, this is the guy I was telling you about. His name's Damien."
Rectus… Dominus… Cheesy Poofs…
Kyle frowned. "Did you guys hear that?"
Hear what? Stan wasn't paying attention. He was too busy trying to stare down this Damien asshole with his asshole brown eyes, asshole pale skin, and asshole black hair—what? Black hair?! Was Kyle trying to replace him?!
"Anyway," Kyle continued when no one seemed to be replying to his previous question, "Damien, this is Stan. My best friend."
"Damn right," Stan said. "I'm his best friend."
"Stan?" Now Kyle was frowning at him but Stan only had eyes for this Damien loser. Heh, he was taller than this guy!
"Well, it's nice to meet Kyle's best friend," Damien said pleasantly, grating on Stan's already frayed nerves. "I wonder why it took so long for him to introduce us."
Kyle dropped his frown and chuckled awkwardly, pulling at his collar nervously. "Yeah…guess we were having so much fun that I forgot."
He was having fun with this douchebag? Oh hell no! Kyle wasn't supposed to be having fun with anyone else but him! He was the best friend here, the super best friend even, not this asshole!
"Why is he looking at me like that?" Damien asked Kyle, turning away from Stan.
"I don't know. Stan?" Kyle reached out a hand to see if he could shake Stan out of whatever funk he was in.
"You can do so much better Kyle," Stan snapped out of it, Kyle's movement attracting his fury. "Did you spend the whole Christmas break with this douche? Why didn't you call me instead? We could have had fun together!"
"Excuse me?" Now Kyle looked offended, as if he was the one that was called a douche. "Don't call him a douche, asshole. Now say you're sorry. It's not his fault that he was the only other person in South Park who wasn't too busy celebrating Christmas to hang out."
"That's another thing, where the hell were you! With him?" Stan spat out accusingly.
"Stan, like every other year, you hang out with the other guys and talk all about what you're going to get for Christmas, intentionally or unintentionally leaving me out. I spend most of the Christmas holidays alone and by myself. Forgive me for wanting to hang out with someone who doesn't forget that I don't celebrate it," Kyle stated. "I try, I really do, but I usually get gypped. I'm not playing that game anymore. I guess this time you got a taste of your own medicine. Now, can we forgive and forget and try to get along?"
"That doesn't sound too bad," Damien said amiably.
"Don't be trying to be Mr. Nice Guy over here!" Stan snapped at the dick who dared to steal his best friend's attention. "Kyle's my friend! Mine!"
"I never said he wasn't," Damien said slowly.
"Stan! What is getting into you!" Kyle exclaimed.
Stan grabbed Kyle by his shoulders and held him at arm's length, boring his blue eyes into the other's. "Kyle, drop this guy and come with me. He's nothing but trouble."
"What the hell are you talking about?" Kyle retorted. "The only thing he hasn't been is trouble."
"Thanks," Damien said.
"Keep out of this," Stan snapped.
"Why are you talking like this?" Kyle demanded. "Can't we all get along?"
"Do you really need me to reply that?" Stan asked heatedly. "Kyle, you're my friend. Not his. Let's go and rip on Cartman like we always do."
"No Stan," Kyle said, knocking Stan's hands off him. Now that was a surprise. Normally Kyle wouldn't turn down the opportunity to make fun of Cartman. Had…had Kyle been replaced by some kind of robot lookalike? "I don't know what's gotten into you," Kyle continued, interrupting his thoughts, "but I don't like it."
"Kyle, we have this thing, this theme. We don't need anybody new in it. Now come on. We have so much to catch up on," Stan pleaded with Kyle though what he really wanted to do was drag the Jew far away and—
"No," Kyle refused. "I…I think we might have to…to separate."
"Separate?" Stan repeated, not liking it.
"I think we need to see other friends," Kyle said.
It was like being hit with a wrecking ball or shot in the heart. It was like the world had frozen up and time stood still in that single instant for the sole purpose of prolonging it. Wait, maybe he had heard wrong. Maybe…maybe Kyle hadn't really said what he thought he had said. Yeah, yeah, he misheard was all. Kyle didn't really say that. Nope.
"What?" he asked for further clarification and perhaps to hear what Kyle really said.
"I said we need to see other friends," Kyle said.
And out through the window went his denial. This couldn't be happening! Kyle…Kyle couldn't be leaving him for someone else! Could he?
With that, the world stood still once more.
"Stan?" Kyle frowned as he snapped his fingers in front of Stan's face, getting no response.
"I think you broke him," Damien said helpfully.
"Yeah, I'm thinking that too," Kyle agreed. "He'll get over it. I think."
"If you're sure about that then let's get to class," Damien suggested. "We don't want to be late."
"Of course. Right." Kyle nodded in agreement, taking his books out of his forgotten locker which had been opened this whole time. As he shut the door, he looked in worry at Stan. "You think we should take him to the nurse?"
"He doesn't look sick," Damien shrugged.
"Well it's his business if he wants to stay in the hallway," Kyle said. "Why don't you show me where your class is? I need to see that there are other fourth grade classes in this school."
"This way," Damien said, gesturing in the direction of where they needed to go.
As Kyle walked past Damien, he did not see the other give a look at the still frozen Stan, a small smirk forming on his lips as he turned to follow after him.
Wendy found Stan still in front of Kyle's locker moments later, the girl excited to see her boyfriend after the break. She'd been out of town at relatives for the Christmas break and had only been able to talk with Stan over the phone.
At one point during a call, she could hear some yelling from Stan's sister and the call abruptly cut off. After that she hadn't been able to speak with him. She was wondering why Stan was ignoring her but wasn't about to jump to conclusions just yet. There could be a good reason why Stan hadn't been answering her calls or replying to her e-mails and text messages.
It had to be a really good one though.
So in the frame of mind of allowing Stan one attempt to explain himself, Wendy approached Stan from behind and greeted, "Hey Stan."
Stan didn't reply.
Wendy waited for a moment, waiting for Stan to look at her or even say something but nothing. Nothing at all. He was still standing there, staring straight ahead with this look on his face. She couldn't think of any reason why he would be doing such a thing.
"Stan?" she repeated as she moved around so that she was face-to-face with him. Now that she was getting a good look at him, it looked like Stan had just been through some kind of breakup. It was similar to the face he had had when she had broken up with him the first time.
But why would he have such an expression on his face in the first place?
"Stan?" she said one more time, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder and shaking him slightly. "Stan, answer me."
Stan did answer though he didn't use words. He looked down, stuffed his hands into his pockets, and turned and walked away.
Wendy was flabbergasted. What was going on?
Why did she have this feeling that her world was about to be shattered?
