Every day afterschool, Kyle and I would sit together in the study hall of our high school and wait. We waited for at least an hour until we went home. This was because my parents wanted me to study extra, but I knew it was an excuse to keep me away from home. Kyle's parents wanted the same thing for him, except they actually wanted Kyle to study extra. We were pretty much the only kids who stayed afterschool just for study hall, and a few other nerds. The nerds sat far away from Kyle and I, they were really weird.

Kyle was distant from me when we were in elementary. We grew as good friends from middle school up to high school. Now, in the eleventh grade, we've grown even farther apart than we've ever before. It made me quite sad. Kyle talked to me less and less when we started trying adult stuff, especially since I did most of it most of the time. He's a hardcore student, dedicated to his education and future. Contrary to me, I was just destined to become a hopeless druggie, alcoholic sex-addict living in the same if not worse conditions I already inhabit. To tell the truth, I secretly admired Kyle. He was the greatest person ever, he's always helping me out with complicated school work, lending me money when I need it, comforting me, and so much more. I knew that Kyle was the only person who actually understood me. And even though he most likely saw Cartman as the closest thing to a best friend I'd get, it was actually Kyle himself who was the closest thing I'd ever get as a best friend. It's just, the way he treats me, nobody does that. He is almost like…a god to me. Kyle is the God that never showed himself. Yes, I practically worshipped him, and gave many prayers of uncontainable gratitude towards Kyle. Gratitude… I could never pay enough back to my friend. And I hated myself for it. The thought that I couldn't give Kyle back for what he did, but actually doing worse than that felt like I was dying again, but not actually going to heaven nor hell, just making it a hell on earth. The worst kind of hell, in my opinion. So in other words, I'd rather die and actually stay dead than live knowing the fact that I was being a burden to Kyle, my own God, my beacon of hope in this hell-hole vortex of life.

Things were tense between him and I because of this. We barely talked anymore. The only precious time I got with Kyle was study hall afterschool. And the constant silence that resided between the two of us was murderously awkward. The question always ran through my mind, 'how did two close friends turn out like this?'. It seemed much too unfair. It seemed too strange and unreal. That I started to actually notice what a blessing Kyle was to me, when he has actually been doing this since we've known each other. I guess you don't know what you have until it's gone. I've always been taking Kyle's sweet compassion for granted, but when we started to really grow into adults, the flowing warmth coming from him just slowed down dramatically. It was as if he'd abandoned me. Nights were lost in tears over this. I was a burden to Kyle and he dumped me. I missed him intensely.

Sitting at the same table to the boy who I idolized, I mindlessly flipped through the pages of some random notebook loaned to me by the biology teacher. He was sitting far from me, on the other side of the table and on the other end. I slid the notebook upwards to cover my face under my eyes, and I smiled a little. I studied Kyle, who was currently engrossed in copying some notes down from a textbook. I let out a shaky sigh. The still atmosphere was practically killing me. It was much more painful than real death. Kyle and I had pretty much a broken relationship. During study hall, I'd occasionally try and spark up a conversation. I didn't know how to, however, so I just tried to ask random questions that might or might not be interesting.

"Kyle, did you ever have a pet?" I blurted out.

Kyle's eyes slowly rose from the words on the pages to meet mine. His expression didn't change. "Not any that I remember of," He replies. And then he goes back to work. He isn't annoyed. I know that Kyle knows that I want nothing more but to rekindle our old friendship. Unfortunately, he wasn't really up for it.

It was quiet again, with only the noises of the pencil scratching on the paper and pages being occasionally flipped. I cherished his voice whenever he spoke, especially when his words were directed to me. I desperately wanted to just have a simple conversation with him. I opened my mouth once again, but closed it. I haven't thought what I was going to say, and you know what happens when you don't think about what you say beforehand. I thought for a little more. Hell, there was a lot of time to think.

"Um, Kyle?"

His eyes lifted in the exact same manner as before. "Yeah?"

"Who do you like?"

Kyle's jade eyes darted to the left for a second and looked back at me. "Hm, nobody."

"Oh," I bit my lip, and sunk back into my chair. After a few more moments of silence, "But really, you can tell me. Trust me."

"Why, Kenny?" He was still looking at me, his eyes squinted slightly.

I groaned and shifted in my seat, scratching my head. "Because," I put on a trembling grin, "That would be super interesting," I looked upwards for a little, in fake thought. "And I promise I won't tell anybody else. Really."

He rolled his eyes. "Well, I told you. Nobody."

"I don't believe you." I said, my voice wavering more and more. "May I guess?"

"Umm… Ok then." He smiled and looked down at his paper in defeat. "And for your amusement, I'll tell the truth towards all your guesses. But I doubt you'll get the right answer."

I grinned wider. "Ok! So… Do you like… uh, Bebe?" That was the first person on my mind.

"No. I never did. She's so… Freaky." He said, smiling as he blankly stared at his textbook.

I chuckled a little. "Okay, well, do you like Wendy?"

He snorted. "No way would I like Stan's girlfriend. She's gross anyways."

"Haha, of course. So, is it Red?"

"Yuck. I'm not another asshole who's in love with that chick." He stuck out his tongue in a cute way, and absentmindedly turned a page of the book.

And so I went through all the other girls in our classes. And interestingly, his answers all seemed to have something in common. "So Kyle, according to all your answers you've given me, you believe all the girls are nasty in some way. Are you gay?"

He lifted his face from the textbook and gave me a slightly disgusted look. "Why should I say that? I'm not going to give any hints."

"Oh. Then it must be Stan."

"No," He said sharply. "That's kind of sick, actually."

I fiddled with the corner of a page in my notebook. "Are you sure you're telling me the truth?"

"Yes," He groaned. I smiled. Kyle seemed to be getting irritated, but I knew that he was getting some amusement out of this conversation. Besides, he was smiling himself.

"How about… Craig?"

"Seriously, that will never happen."

"Well, I guess Butters?"

"No, Kenny." He said, snickering a little.

I ran through the rest of the guys in our school. He declined each one of them. And soon I guessed pretty everybody we both knew around our age. There weren't any more people to guess. And by this time, study hall ended with the bell.

"Oh, looks like it's time to go home," He said, and suddenly started nervously packing up. After, he rushed out of the room. I packed my stuff as quickly and chased after him. I joined up with Kyle as we reached the door at the front of the school.

"What is it, Kenny?" He asked as he pushed open the door, and we were welcomed by the cool breeze of the outdoors.

I didn't answer right away. I let out another shaky sigh and looked up to the bright late afternoon spring sun, shining proudly in the clear sky. I let the calming wind play with my hair, letting the tiny ice crystals it carried send chills through my body. It was tranquil outside, no other soul was out in the front of the school. I smiled in slight shame and looked down at the side.

"I… Forgot to guess one more person…"

"Oh? Well, who do you guess?"

And I felt like my body was melting. The warmth of his voice, it was just sweet, like honey. Well, not like I ever tasted honey, lest I could afford it. Wait, I shouldn't get off topic.

"Do you like me?"

He turned to look at me fully at my face. His bright, full jaded eyes full of intent, and his beautiful pastel lips parted slightly, and his cheeks rosy red from the frosty air. The descending sun hit the side of his head at such a wonderfully perfect angle, and the diamond dust falling around us formed a halo around his head. And I felt so small in his almighty presence. My knees started to feel like jelly. My heart felt like it burst and the pieces turned into billions of tiny butterflies. Was my admiration more than it should be? Knowing this was the moment, I slowly closed my eyes and leaned in.

My lips met with the warm inside of his palm. Opening my eyes in surprise, I see that he covered his mouth with his hand. I pulled back, putting on a look of pure shock.

"What the hell, Kenny? You are the last person on earth I'd fall in love with. I'd rather fuck Cartman than make out with you! You're such a dirty man-whore, druggie and inconsiderate asshole jerk I've ever met! Do you know how much I did for you, how much I cared for you, and what did you give me in return! And cigarettes and booze doesn't count! I fucking hate you! You don't know for how long I've been holding this in! Go die and go to hell! And die in that hell and go to the hell of that hell! And die in that hell and go to the hell of that hell, and so on! Just keep going down, Kenny, because that's all you'll ever go!"

I stared at him, my jaw touching my feet. Oh no he didn't. I lept from my feet and pinned him on the ground. "Kyle Kyle Kyle Kyle Kyle," I hissed, grabbing his cheek with my fingernails, and tried to tear the skin off. "WHAT THE FUCK? YOU. DON'T. FUCKING. KNOW. THE HELL I GO THROUGH! YOU FUCKING SPOILED LITTLE ASSHOLE! YOU FUCKING THINK THAT ALL I WANT IS BOOZE AND SEX? WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR REASON TO HATE ME MORE THAN CARTMAN! I APPRECIATED YOUR CARE! MUCH MORE THAN YOU'LL EVER THINK! KYLE! YOU ARE MY FUCKING GOD! NOBODY! NOBODY EVER TREATED ME THE WAY YOU DID! I LOVE YOU! I FUCKING LOVE YOU! WHAT THE HELL AM I WITHOUT YOU!" And the tears layered my eyes, fell in thick streams. What my fists collided with were so freakishly cold. I was so lost, I felt so misunderstood, so confused. I spout out more shit at him. I just don't know anymore. I stopped abruptly, and lifted my knuckles to inspect the blood. The cold sweat suddenly stung on my skin. I got off of him, to see his still and disfigured face. Did I kill him? A few seconds. And the hand is pinching my throat.

"Not yet," He whispers, smiling. "Go to hell and stay there."

He squeezes both hands around my windpipe. And the setting sun disappears just like a ghost.

If you wanna flame, then bring on the heat, haters. I suck at making fluff. Honestly, I wanted this to be fluff at first, but my mind twisted it up.

South Park isn't mine.