Author's notes: Hey y'all. I'm so so so so sorry for the wait! But I'll explain it. If you don't want to know the reasons, just scroll down and enjoy the new chapter (I feel like it sucks, but hopefully you'll like it).
So, for those of you who are interested in my personal life *cough cough nobody cough cough*, I'm suffering of a bad case of writer's block. I wrote this chapter over twenty times (no kidding), and ended up deleting it twice. Twice. So yesterday at like, 3 in the morning, I wrote this. I hope you like it. I just hate to keep you waiting. Besides, I'm having a lot of issues on school.
Have a nice time and don't forget to leave your feedback! Xo
Oh, btw, my birthday's next Saturday (9/29)! Review as a gift? ;) thanks!

Being me isn't hard.

Living my life is.

Well, let me explain: being me is alright. I'm relatively handsome (from what I heard), I get great grades at school, my hair is much shorter and way better than it used to be (any signs of my Jew fro gone for good) and I'm in nice terms with myself.

Living my life, though, is a fucking hell. I have a stereotypical Jew pain in the ass mother, a brother who is seven years younger and smarter than me, a stupid dad, dumb as a rock teachers, and to seal the deal, a racist, Nazi son of a bitch 'friend' who gave me a blowjob at two in the morning yesterday, which means one thing: shit got 1792937 times more complicated.

I have absolutely no idea what I'm feeling. About Cartman, about myself, about other people, about anything.

I have no idea what I'm going to do.

Besides, of course, going to school. Nothing I can do about that.

Don't think I didn't try my best to stay home today though. But you don't have my mother, so you don't get to judge me.

I told her I had a fever and she made me get into a bath full of ice cubes to cool down my temperature when it's fucking freezing outside.

After that, I was slightly scared to fake any other symptoms. When I was figuring out a way of catching Chickenpox, dad yelled for me to go to the bus stop.

So I swallowed hard and walked out the door. Now I'm shaking and my hands are sweating a little bit, all because I'm afraid of seeing Cartman today.

The thought makes me frown. Hell, how bad could his reaction be? After all, he sucked me off. It doesn't mean he likes me, right?

But most importantly, it doesn't mean I like him, right?

Right?

"Kyle!" I stop dead in my tracks. It's Stan's voice. He has sunglasses covering his eyes and walks a little dizzily. Oh no. He's hungover. I totally forgot about the party. And about what happened in the party.

He probably hates me now. Probably thinks I'm a faggot. I should burn in hell. Oh my God, what if my mother finds out I made out with two of my friends? In one night? Fuck, she'd go nuts. Stan's probably nuts now. I'll probably get my nose busted open.

Oh well.

No. No, that's crazy. Stan wouldn't do that. Why am I thinking that? Stop it, brain!

"Kyle?"

"Uh, hey Stan." he looks terrified. I drop my backpack next to the bus sign and sigh. Here we go. "Look, dude-"

"I gotta talk to you." before I can answer, he clutches my arm and pulls me to the side, near some trees. "Just hear me out, okay? It's life or death!" I stare at him. Talk about drama.

"What?" I ask. He puts both hands on my shoulders, stilling my arms. I groan.

"So, yesterday Wendy decided she was too drunk to go home so I said I'd take her to my house and she could crash there since my parents weren't around. Alright, so we got to my place and we went up to my bedroom and one thing led to another and I fucked her and I'm think I got her pregnant."

My eyes widen unwittingly. Mostly because this subject is completely different than the one I thought he had in mind. Sucks for Wendy, though.

"Okay. Stan?" he looks at me. "Breathe." he does as he's told, taking huge, fake breaths dramatically. "So, first of all: did you wear a condom?" he nods. I drop my tensed shoulders. "Then why are you preoccupied?"

Stan rolls his eyes.

"'Cause she threw up right after it ended and she didn't stop until she vomited herself to sleep. And her boobs were a lot bigger in her shirt today when she was leaving earlier. And they didn't look that big yesterday when we were having sex."

My turn to roll my eyes.

"Dude...she threw up because she was drunk. And her boobs look bigger 'cause she pushes them up her chin and smashes them together with a magic bra or something. She is notcarrying your kid." he sighs in relief. Stan smiles slightly.

"...yeah. Yeah, you're probably right. Thanks, man."
I sigh, a little reluctant. It feels so good to do this. To pretend it never happened. Pretend we never almost hooked up.

Probably because that's what I'm used to. Pretending bad things never happened and move on. Just swiping the dirt under the rug. That's what my whole family's used to doing.

We never talk about that one time mom threw a party and caught Butter's dad making out with mine. That's how we work. Except, of course, when the crisis is about me; then, we can freak out. But when dad cheats on mom with another married guy (who is one of my friends' dad), we just ignore it.

That's mostly why it feels so weird to bring this up, but I have to. I suck in a deep breath and let it out through my nose.

"Look, Stan, about yesterday..." I trail off, hoping to God he gets what I'm saying. But of course he doesn't. "I think we should just drop it. You know? Just...forget it. Forget it ever happened."

He frowns.

"What'cha talking about?" my fingers ghost over the scars in my chest on their own accord. Huh?

"You don't...remember?" I try to control my voice so it doesn't sound like I'm hurt or anything.

"No...what 'never happened'?" his eyes suddenly widen. Oh. Of course I had to push it until he remembered! Fucking shit, why do I always fuck shit up? "Dude...did we do something, like, NC-17?"
I roll my eyes at that, because really? I then force a laugh and punch his arm.

"You should've seen your face! You actually bought it?"

He lets out a breath and joins me as I pretend to laugh my guts out. Okay. He doesn't remember. God, he's really hungover. So, if I remember it (and yeah, I may deny it, but I remember all the details...unfortunately), that means I wasn't drunk at all?

"So Cartman was right, huh..." I whisper under my breath.

"What?"

"Oh. Nothing. Forget about it. Let's go, the bus' here." we shove ourselves inside the school bus, Kenny and fat ass meeting us inside. The moment I cast a glance at Cartman, I freeze.

Really.

I just froze in a spot here. The bus starts to move but I can't do the same. I'm just...paralyzed.

God, I never noticed how handsome Cartman actually is...his hair is just a little too big in the front, falling over his eyes and making him look sort of mysterious (which turned out to be weirdly sexy). He's wearing a plain gray t-shirt that's kind of large for him. I deduce he used to wear it when he was still a fat ass, what he's not anymore (that'll be his nickname for life though). He's lost a lot of weight since he started working out, a few months ago.

At first he hated it. His mom made him stop eating junk food and start lifting weight. Now he just does it himself. Partly because he liked the result and partly because his mom hardly has the time to take care of her son, considering of the job she has. His jeans hug his legs perfectly, getting slightly bigger in all the right places. And Cartman's old, beaten up Converse shoes? So freaking hot.

"You want a picture, Jew boy?" Cartman says, not looking up from his iPod, where he's currently playing Trigger Fist. When he dies in the game, and I don't answer (I'm still a little dumbstruck), he looks at me. "It lasts longer."

I sit down next to Kenny, staring blankly out the window. After a while I manage a "fuck you, fat ass", muttered under my breath. It all makes sense now.

All those girls always rubbing themselves against him, coming back every time he claimed to be gay (which he is, but they don't believe it, or choose not to), kissing him at parties, doing him favors...

A heat suddenly rises within me. It's undeniably jealousy. Rage.

I've never felt anything but total apathy for chicks from school. Except for shame, but that doesn't count.

But now I get it. He's secretly hot. Well, secretly for me, because apparently everybody already knows it.

How come I never noticed it before?

Is it because I'm too stuck in the past to actually recognize we all changed?

Or maybe...maybe I'm just blind to changes. With my cold, unstable family, maybe I just needed some part of my life that was safe, and forever will be. I mean, my friends are my second family. But they've changed. And so have I.

Maybe I just need time to stop.

So I can figure this all out.

So I can stare at him a little longer.

I mean, I've been glancing Cartman's way with the corners of my eye for what feels like decades now, but all I want is a full view.

Maaaaaybe without clothes this time.

A/N: Sooooo...did it suck trash? Sorry. :( I just HATED Stan's reaction but I couldn't figure anything else out! I just threw in some Stendy there (sort of to break the whole Style thing. I know a few of you didn't like that BUT THANK YOU FOR NOT HATING ME! Ha-ha). I feel like I disappointed all of you. Your opinion is really important for me. After all, you are my readers! But well, expect the other chapter somewhat sooner. Bye!