So, I've been wanting to write this. For a bit. Because I love the song White Houses! Each chapter is someone else's POV, and there are a million pairings in this. I don't know the definite pairings, but there will be a bunch! Except Kyman. I'm sorry, just... no.
Also, it'd be cool if you suggest a pairing you totally like, even if it's crack. My favorite pairing is a crack pairing, and I invented it xD (it'll be in this story)!
And who's to say we won't burn it out?
And who's to say we won't sink in doubt?
Who's to say that we won't fade to gray?
Who are they anyway? Anyway they don't know
If there's one thing I'm sure about, it's that Wendy and I are over. Done. Finito. Fin. Whatever else language you can think of, we're done. But the thing is, we're still together. I know that sounds hella contridicting and shit, but I mean that we're still dating, but we don't like each other the way we used to. There's no spark there anymore, you know? It's almost like we're just putting up an act everyday, playing the roles of Park High's power couple of the quarterback and the star soccer player. You'd think that I'd date Bebe, since she's head cheerleader and the Homecoming Queen and all that jazz, but I liked Wendy. Straight black hair, blue eye'd Wendy. The only girl I know who can run almost every club, be class president, and the captain of the girls soccer team. To be honest, Wendy might be one of the most amazing people I've ever met.
But she just isn't the most amazing. That person, my friends, is the person that I think about when Wendy kisses me, and even though I know we're both over each other, I still feel like a douchebag. In a way, it's almost like I'm cheating in my mind, and I just want her to dump me already, but I think she's waiting for me to dump her. But we both aren't stepping up and ending it, which is just making everything worse especially since the homecoming game and the homecoming dance is coming up, and everyone's already expecting Wendy and I to go together. Like we have been going together to every dance, ever since the fifth grade. It was almost law that we had to go together, like it was written in stone.
Only I didn't want her to kiss me after I make the winning touchdown. I don't want to pose for pictures with her for her parents. I don't want to dance with her while we both wish we're with other people, and I don't want to be crowned King with her best friend. I just didn't. Call my freaking psycho, but I wanted to do all that with a boy. Yes, you heard me, a boy. Stanley Marsh, Park High's star quarterback, is into boys. But wait, want to hear something even better? That boy I was just talking about, remember him? Yeah, that's my best friend, Kyle. Jewish Kyle with the curly red hair and the big green eyes Kyle. Yeah, the one on the track team and he's captain of the debate team! Oh, how'd you know, you clever fool?
"Stan?" I heard my name and I turned around, all James Bond style, to see my other best friend, Kenny McCormick leaning against my locker. He grinned then, rolling his cerulean eyes at my impressive turning moves. He ran his tongue over his lip, over the bump of a lip ring before speaking again. "Dude, movies tonight. Don't bring the wife."
"Shut up, man." I shot him a look, closing my locker as we fell into step to walk to lunch. Kenny and I have made it a ritual to walk to lunch together, because ever since freshman year last year, we've always had classes together. Kyle always got into AP and Honors classes, so the only time I saw him was during gym, lunch, and Italian. And gym was an every-other-day class.
"I'm just saying," Kenny drawled out, flipping his dirty blonde hair out of his eyes, and I could hear the tinge of a country accent. "You've been together for like, years. It's law that you guys are gonna get married."
"Dude, no. We're not. It's not even like..." I waved my hands around, looking for something to say without giving away that there's just no spark left in our relationship. "Like... like-"
"Like you're even in love anymore?" Kenny piped up, giving me one of his lop-sided grins. Fucking Kenny with his fucking blue eyes and his fucking freckles and his fucking knowledge to know everything. I'm serious. Kenny can look at you and just know what you're feeling. He's like freaking psychic or something, it's almost like he knows you more than you know yourself. Plus, he's the only person to ever survive one of Craig's glares and live to tell the tale.
I open my mouth to talk, but Kenny holds up his hand, speaking before me. "Don't even try denying it, Stan. It's so freaking obvious. For one, your kisses look forced. Second, I saw you two at the Graduation Dance last year looking at different people. And yes, I know you were looking at a boy."
I couldn't even fucking say anything, because Kenny knew me better than he knew boobs, and trust me, Kenny knows boobs. So I just stood there awkwardly, not saying anything while he gave me a smug grin as we entered the cafeteria. Kenny nudged me when Kyle looked up and waved, pushing his thick-frame glasses farther up his nose. I shot Kenny a glare before sitting down next to Kyle, Kenny taking his seat across from us.
"Did Kenny tell you about the movies?" Kyle asked, his voice instantly calming me down.
"Yeah, what are we seeing?" I questioned, my calm feeling evaporating when I saw Wendy and her friends walk in the cafeteria. I don't mean to sound arrogant, but we sit at the 'popular' table, so to speak. Most people are always confused as to why Kyle sits with us, but it's plain and simple. I love him. No, kidding, it's because we're best friends. I do like him though.
"The Last Exorcist." Kyle answered, not looking up from his algebra homework. Kyle is one of the only people I know who does his homework at lunch. He's also the only Jew I know.
"Aw man, Craig's not coming, right?" Kenny exclaimed, earning the famous finger from Craig, who sits beside him.
"Hey, fuck you." Craig shot him a glare that would've sent a nun running to confession, flipping his dark bangs out of his eyes.
"I'm sorry Craig, but you're ruining my game here." Kenny said lazily. "Everytime we see something scary, everyone attaches to you for some reason."
Craig scoffed. "And you think I want that? It's fucking annoying."
I stopped listening to their conversation when Wendy took a seat beside me, exchanging hellos with everyone before turning to me. "Stan, what are you wearing for Homecoming? I have to match you according to this one," She pointed at Bebe, who wiggled her fingers at me, waving and pursing her bright red lips.
"I don't know, black? If I show up in any other suit color, I'll look like a queer." I said nonchalantly.
Wendy smiled, writing a few things down in her notebook. "Purple it is, then."
Basically, the rest of lunch went on like that. Kenny and Craig arguing, Cartman and Kyle arguing, and Wendy and I making strained conversation. Like I said, Wendy and I are faking this whole relationship. I don't even know why, it's obvious she likes someone else and that so do I, but in my case, I hope it's not obvious who that someone else is. Or else I could just kiss everything goodbye. They don't let gay guys play football. It's just the rule of high school.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxx
"This movie fucking blows," I whispered to Kyle, who I could tell was scared out of his wits. Kyle's just like that, you know? Really girly over things like scary movies and stepping in mud. Kyle shot me a look, squeezing my hand even tighter when the creepy-ass possessed girl was all creepy. I looked over at him, a small smile tugging at my lips as I watched him. His bright, green eyes were wide, staring at the screen, glazed over with fear. His pretty pink lips were mouthing something that looked like a prayer, and his hand was basically crushing my hand. I could feel my bones rubbing together in some hella uncomfortable way, and it kinda hurt, but just the fact that Kyle was holding my hand, even in fear, was enough to keep me there.
I broke away from Kyle to look to my right when I heard Craig mutter something along the lines of: "I swear to the Lord, I am going to stab someone."
I don't really blame him, either, I'd be pretty annoyed if I had a bunch of people crowded around me, holding onto me for dear life. Sometimes, I feel sort of bad for the guy, you know? Especially since even though this is guy's night, almost every boy was attached to him because every boy I know is a friggen scaredy-cat. Kenny was clinging to his right arm, Clyde on his left, Tweek was in his lap, and Token was sitting a few seats away, shaking his head and laughing. Token's the chill black guy that makes fun of all of us 'cause we're poor and he's hella rich. He also criticizes the fact that I say 'hella'.
I didn't really pay attention to the movie after that. What's the point? The basic gist of it was that some stupid girl is schizophrenic, but no no no, she says Satan a few times so she must be possessed, and a priest tries to get it out. No thanks, I already saw The Excorsism of Emily Rose, you cheap knock-off. Kyle got really into it though, and when the credits rolled and the lights turned on, the first thing he did was look at me and say: "Wasn't that hella dank?"
Let me tell you one thing about Kyle. He substitutes 'hella dank' for you know, normal words like 'awesome' and... I don't know, 'tubular' or something. I don't know what people say, people are awkward. But anyway, Kyle says some pretty funky shit sometimes, you know? Not just this stupid hella dank thing, but he also says weird things that just make no sense sometimes. The kind of things that I just sit there and nod my head for, pretending I know what the fuck he's talking about.
"That's so stupid," I roll my eyes and he shoots me another look, getting up and letting go of my hand. I stood to my feet, falling into step beside him and the other guys as we left, talking about the movie.
"Gah! It was so... ngh!" Tweek spat out, clutching his shirt in a death grip that caused his knuckles to turn a snowy white. His whole body convulsed as we walked out into the night, and I almost felt bad for him for some reason. Maybe it's because the kid's pretty troubled.
"I missed the whole thing." Craig replied nonchalantly, flipping off a random little girl who happened to stroll past.
"Dude, how could you, it was like, louder than... planes." Clyde snapped his fingers the second a word came to him, earning a 'look' from Craig, which is different from a glare.
"Oh, gee, I don't know, maybe it was because I had three guys attached to me shrieking while this one-" He stopped to point at Token. "Laughed at me."
"You shouldn't have such soft arms, you were asking for it," Kenny laughed, throwing his arm around Craig's shoulder, earning a look from Tweek. If you haven't realized by now, we 'look' at each other a lot.
"Hey, fuck you." Craig shrugged out of Kenny's grasp, and Tweek rushed up to wrap an arm around his waist, still shaking like a nervous wreck of... nerves. Yeah, nerves.
Craig and Tweek aren't together, if that's what you're thinking. More-so Tweek is just really protective of his best friend ever since Craig got a girlfriend, and Craig's the only guy that can relax Tweek. Once, Craig wasn't around so Clyde tried calming him down, and Tweek (unintentionally) gave him a black eye. Tweek's just like that, you know? Ever since we were kids, he just spazzes and twitches and drinks coffee. That's just his thing.
We make a turn, and I almost wish we didn't, because we turned onto the town plaza, and guess who was sitting in the plaza? Wendy and her friends. And of course, all the guys start nudging Craig and I 'cause we're the ones with the girlfriends, and Bebe's head literally whips around and she smirks when she sees all of us, whispering something to the girls and they all look over like a freaking Omen or something.
"Craig!" Red squeals, hopping up and running over to him, standing on her tip-toes and planting her lips on his. Tweek mumbled something, backing away to go sit on the wall. "Hey! Kyyyyle!" Bebe's voice pierced through the air, sing-songing Kyle's name. I saw fear flash across his eyes for a moment, and I couldn't help but laugh, even if I was jealous. Bebe's had a thing for Kyle since the third grade, and Kyle's been... scared of Bebe since the third grade.
"Help me." Kyle muttered before Bebe threw her arms around him in a hug, linking their arms and basically dragging him along with her. I felt bad when Kyle looked over his shoulder at me, one last desperate glance before Wendy was in my line of vision.
"Hey, Stan." She forced a smile, pecking me lightly on the lips. She adjusted her light pink beret, taking my hand and leading me over to one of the smaller tables just outside of Harbucks.
"Stan, I've been thinking." She says slowly, and my inner Stan is like YES. DUMP ME. NOW.
"Yeah?" I say hesitantly, trying to sound worried even though this is what I've been waiting for.
Wendy bites her lip, looking down at her hands before back up at me. "You should match Bebe's dress, since you two are going to win Homecoming King and Queen."
Motherfucker.
