This is my first fanfic ever, so here goes nothing. I got the idea from listening to the Spring Awakening soundtrack, so the story is based on that. Not sure how long it's going to be, but hopefully I will be able to make the next chapter longer. Please leave constructive advice! I have never really tried writing before so I am a bit unsure. Thanks!

Don't own South Park. Sad day.

A pair of slender, blue-clad legs faded into the distance, leaving behind no trace but a lingering longing.

Kyle Broflovski woke with a start, his body wet with sweat and sticky with… the result of this recurring vision. He groaned in frustration. He had once again fallen asleep at his desk, unable to concentrate on his biology homework. Although he normally excelled in school, recently his grades had been dropping because he just couldn't bring himself to focus on anything but his recurring visions of hazy legs and breasts and unidentifiable longing.

He stared glumly at the essay he had started to write, unfinished and smudged where he had drooled on it in his sleep. 6:30 am, not enough time to finish a passable paper. He sighed and decided a better use of his time would be a cold shower. That sometimes helped him focus enough in school to take notes and not fall asleep in class.

If his grades didn't pick up again, his mom would throw one of her hissy fits and ground him or worse. As Ike progressed rapidly through school, Sheila and Gerald expected similar excellence from their older son. When Kyle started performing poorly, Sheila tended to get violent. If Gerald was home, he could temper her anger, but he had been taking longer and longer hours at the office and left Kyle and Ike alone to face their mom's wrath.

As Kyle stood in the shower, he remembered his childhood. He would give anything to return to the simplicity that was fourth grade. Well, his fourth grade life wasn't exactly simple, what with trips to space and Somalia and Peru and Iraq, and killer celebrities and imaginary creatures and ex-vice presidents and ginger kids on the loose. Still, at least he hadn't been plagued by constant thoughts of sex. The cold water made his skin prickle, but he could feel some of the tiredness and the confused haze leaving his mind.

He turned off the shower and dried himself, slinging the towel around his waist. He stood in front of the mirror, critiquing what he saw in the reflection. He was still as skinny as ever, with his ribs jutting out a bit and his arms lacking any significant muscle. Though he had finally started growing the summer before, he was still in the gawky phase that many eighth grade boys fall into, with hands and feet too big for the rest of him. His hair still stood on end, the mass of red curls refusing to cooperate with the laws of gravity. His eyes were ringed with bluish circles, and his cheeks were hollow. The stress he was under was not helping his complexion. He sighed and turned away. At least he hadn't felt the urge to give in to the Jersey look that he always had at the back of his mind.

After dressing and grabbing a quick piece of toast for breakfast, he ran out the door, not saying goodbye to his mother. Morning confrontations were never fun. He walked to the bus stop, the same stop that he had been standing at for eight years, and saw Stan Marsh, his best friend, standing in the same spot he always stood in.

Kyle often found himself envying Stan. Stan never seemed to be troubled by thoughts of female anatomy like Kyle was. He just flashed girls a grin and they fawned over him. He was even starting to outperform Kyle in some subjects, especially history. Stan also had grown about six inches in the last year, and was blessed with normal, straight black hair. And although his dad could completely embarrass himself in front of the whole country, at least Stan's mom was supportive of her son and not full of unrealistic expectations.

"Hey dude," Stan said when he spotted Kyle.

"Hey."

"Did you finish the biology homework? I can't believe they are making us learn intelligent design. It's like the people in charge of the curriculum are blind old men who completely disregard modern thought," Stan ranted.

"Dude, I couldn't finish it. I couldn't start on it till twelve thirty because my mom was screaming at me till then as usual. I'm surprised the neighbors don't file a noise complaint. She probably keeps up the whole street. Plus the whole theory makes no sense to me anyway, " said Kyle.

"That's rough, dude."

Kyle saw their other two friends, Cartman and Kenny, approaching.

"Sup, Fatass. Hey, Ken."

"Don't call me fat, you Jewish asshole! Sup, Hippie."

"Hmmy dmmds"

Cartman was still as fat as ever. His added height had done nothing to reduce his width. He was even more defensive about his size, now that girls were showing interest in all of his friends. He had never been spared so much as a glance by any of the girls, and Kyle was pretty sure the last action he'd seen was when he had been raped by the Snooki in fourth grade. He still freely insulted the boys he reluctantly called friends, but his taunts had become less inventive as time went on. After an episode with Kevin Stoley involving lava and a new Darth Vader suit, Cartman had been forced into psychotherapy by the state. His therapist had recognized his musical skill, and encouraged him to express himself through piano. The music lessons calmed him down considerably, and though he still thought up elaborate evil schemes, he was much less passionate about actually carrying them out.

Kenny was still attached to his orange hoodie, though even with his face obscured, the girls still mooned over him. He exuded a self-confidence and had an arrogant mannerism that attracted females like flies. Kyle knew Kenny would have been ecstatic about this turn of events, had he not confessed a secret to his friends. Kenny was harboring a strange and sudden crush on Butters Stotch that he had lamented about to Kyle, Stan and Cartman for months. He assured the others that he still loved boobs, but something about Butters captivated his attention. He had been working tirelessly to attract Butters, but to date it seemed that all his efforts were in vain.

The four stood in companionable silence as they waited for the bus to arrive.