Chapter 2

"You ready yet?" Stan asked in impatience as he stood beside my closed bathroom door.

I hurriedly ran a comb through my messy, shoulder-length red hair. With a sigh, I tied it back with one of my mom's hair elastics and hurried into the hallway.

"Okay, let's go," I told him. Stan nodded and followed me down the stairs.

As I passed my parents on my way out, I said, "I'm going to North Park with Stan, Mom," My mother turned away from the television.

"Well, alright, sweetie," my mother replied worriedly. "You boys be careful out there," I just sigh and nod, throwing Stan a look, who was sniggering into his hand.

"I'll see you tomorrow," I added. My mother nodded, returning to the TV with my dad and Ike.

I lead the way out of my house and down the driveway to Stan's shitty truck. Stan slides into the driver's seat, and me into the passenger's side. He put the truck in gear and started down the dark street. His eyes were tired and bored already.

"If you get tired, lemme know, and I'll drive," I told him. Stan laughed.

"Do you even know how to drive?"

I felt my face redden. "It can't be that hard,"

Stan just laughed and shook his head. "So I guess when I wake up in a hospital room with a phone call from you from jail, I'll know why."

I gave him a look, and he turned back to the road. We talked lightly for a few hours on the highway: about school the following week, Cartman's latest asshole antics and college. Everything, I noticed, but Wendy. I didn't know whether to take it as a good or a bad sign – until I brought her up.

"So how's Wendy?" I asked cautiously. He shrugged, not taking his gaze off the lifeless road before him. "Did you get back together?" I finally asked bluntly. Stan said nothing at first, thinking hard, I could tell.

"Yeah. We got back together, but…" He trailed off. I pressed him.

"But what?"

He sighed with a shrug. "She's just so…so needy," he announced. I felt my heart lift slightly at the prospect of Stan finally having something to say about Wendy other than, 'she's an animal in bed', or, 'she's sexy'. He continued. "I think we just need a break, at least until college. Four years…I just don't know if I can do it without cheating again, y'know?"

Of course, I didn't know, but I nodded anyways. Finally, his words hit me. "Jesus, Stan, you cheat on your girlfriend?" I asked in sheer surprise. Stan's face went pale.

"It was only once, it wasn't a big thing," he said, his face becoming ridden with guilt. Before I could ask, he said, "Bebe. Last year. She told Wendy, and she was pissed, and she got over it. No big," I just nodded, letting it go.

Frankly, I had no idea how someone could betray someone they supposedly 'love', but that was just me. I'd never been in love – at least, not until recently.

We drove in silence for the next hour, until we were halfway through Middle Park, and Stan's eyes started to drop.

"Dude, you're practically asleep, let me drive," I said. Stan snapped up, eyes wide open.

"No, I'm okay."

I sighed as he slumped down again. "Seriously, dude, you're going to get us killed." Finally, Stan shrugged sleepily and agreed. He pulled over, climbed over me on the padded bench, and leaned against the passenger door. He murmured something about being careful. I chuckled and moved into the driver's seat.

Suddenly, I was very nervous. I breathed deeply, putting the pickup into drive and lightly tapped the gas pedal. My heart jumped as the vehicle slowly lurched forward. I pressed down a little further and drove slowly along the dark, barren highway.

I glanced at the clock built into the car and my heart pounded. It was past two am, and we were just getting off the highway to North Park.

I turned into the parking lot of a cheap motel and put the truck in park, heaving a large sigh. Despite taking two hours to cover the distance that Stan would've covered in fifty minutes, I was relatively proud. After all, we were both alive.

I turned in the seat, glancing at Stan's sleeping figure. I won't deny it: he was a fucking mess. His short black hair was messed up, random bits poking up at odd angles. His face looked worried, like he was having a bad dream.

I shifted over on the seat, only inches away from Stan. I shyly put my hand over his and rested my head on his shoulder awkwardly. Despite him being asleep, I blushed heavily. I shook it off and relaxed, realizing how tired I was.

Just as I was falling asleep, I could've sworn I saw Stan's mouth twitch into a smile.


"Uh…Kyle?" I snapped awake, jumping slightly at the sound of Stan's voice. "Could you, er, get off of me?"

I felt my face grow hot again as I nodded, sitting up. I untied my hair and ran my hand through it. Stan sighed, climbing over me again to the driver's side.

"Jesus, where the fuck are we?" he asked drowsily. "When did we get here?"

I shrugged. "You passed out and let me take over – and I didn't get us killed," I added smugly. "I got tired so I pulled in here at around two. 'S some motel in North Park."

Stan nodded, starting up the truck. Thankfully, he said nothing about the rather…compromising position we'd slept in. "What time is it?" I asked.

With a glance at his watch, Stan told me it was noon, and we sped through the overcrowded streets quickly to the DMV. When Stan pulled into the parking lot, he breathed deeply.

"You ready?" I asked him. He nodded and opened the door, pulling his blue-and-red winter hat over his head. I followed, putting my hair back into a short ponytail. We said nothing as Stan and I entered the plain brown building. I could tell he was worried. After all, this was the third time he'd applied for his license.

There was a small line, so we took a number and sat down. Stan stared out the window beside us, and I watched other people get their licenses rejected, accepted and taken away.

"Dude, I'm so nervous," Stan said finally, tapping his fingers on his knees. "Talk about something else to distract me."

I nodded. "Uh…well, I applied to Harvard yesterday," I informed him. "Don't worry, though, I made sure they wouldn't accept me," I added with a laugh. Stan smiled and nodded happily. He seemed distracted from his anxiety, so I kept quiet after cheering him up.

The young girl behind the counter finally called our number a few minutes later, and Stan hurried forward. I could feel the eyes of everyone in the room on us as I followed him. With a deep breath, Stan approached the counter.

"Name?" asked the bored-looking woman with the clipboard in front of us.

"Stanley Marsh."

She turned around and opened a drawer, fishing out Stan's file. He fidgeted where he stood nervously. I put a hand on his shoulder.

"Come on, man, it'll be fine," I reassured him. He nodded mindlessly.

The woman came back to the counter and took a few papers out of a folder with Stan's name on it, and have him the rest of the folder. "Well, looks like you've been approved, Stanley," she said, curling her lips to reveal crooked, yellow-brown teeth. It took me a moment to realize she was smiling.

Stan beamed, briefly leafing through the papers before throwing his arms around me in a loose hug; pulling back and giving me a light peck on the cheek. He ignored my flushed expression and turned back to the folder in his hands as he started towards the door.

I shook it off, regaining my composure, and followed him outside to his truck. He was still smiling as he hopped into the driver's side and me into the passenger's.

"Finally!" he said, laying the folder on the dashboard. His face brightened slightly. "I should call Wendy," he announced, taking his phone out and doing so. I gave him a look, but he ignored it.

"At least let me drive, then," I said, knowing that he'd be far too excited to drive calmly. He nodded and we switched places. I was much more confident in my driving abilities, now, and took to the highway much easier, trying desperately to ignore Stan's phone conversation.

It was about five thirty when we finally arrived back in South Park. (It would've been an hour ago, but I drove the whole way, listening in annoyance as Stan talked avidly with his girlfriend, ignoring his best friend.) I waved goodbye to Stan as I pulled up to my house and got out. He waved half-heartedly and drove off.

Judging by the half of the conversation I could hear, Stan was probably on his way to her place right now. And, though I had a good idea, I certainly didn't want to know what he had planned for the celebration of getting his license with her.


A/N: It'll get better, I promise!!