Ring! Ring! You've got a call, Jew!
I groaned and rolled over, feeling blindly for my phone. Some time last week Cartman had felt the urge to pre-record his own ringtone and program it onto my phone. It was irritating.
Pick up the phone, Jew! Pick up the phone, Jew!
And while I may be extremely good at 'tekkie-shit,' as Kenny so eloquently describes it, I have no idea how to change the ringtone. It's some new model with way too many fucking features. I mean, come on, what kind of phone needs-
ANSWER YOUR FUCKING PHONE, JEW!
My cellphone was screaming at me now. I switched on my light and- lo and behold!- it was right there on the nightstand. Without even looking I flipped it open. That ringtone fucking pissed me off. I wanted it gone.
"Kyle…?" A small voice said from the other end of the phone, voice trailing off like a question. Even through my sleep-deprived brain, I knew who it was.
"What's wrong, Stan?" I ask. Hearing that tone from Stan, so alone and full of defeat, I'm instantly awake. Awake and scared, millions of possibilities running through my head.
Stan could be in the hospital, dying as the seconds tick by.
Stan could be in jail, and this could be his one call.
Stan could be lost in the woods, terrified and hurt.
"Wendy... cheated on me," he whispers, "Can… can you come over?"
My eyes close and I'm aware of all the reasons that this is wrong. He's emotionally unstable, he's my best friend, I think at some point I fell for him, he belongs with Wendy…
But it's Stan.
"I'll be right there."
---AvinxMile---
A/N: I got two reviews... And I felt like writing... And I'm working on Overlooking You! I promise! I just love writing Kyle.
