All-American Rejection, Ch. 2-Stab My Back
Disclaimer: Still no ownage of song or characters involved on my part.
Author's Notes: Noticing a small lack of reviews…I can't offer money, as I'm pretty close to broke right now, but I have Holiday Pastries of your choice available. Thanks to the one reviewer I've had so far. This will be a Kyle/Stan/Wendy chapter with a fair bit of dialogue, inspired by a little too much listening to alternative rock on the radio. These remain the creepiest lyrics I've ever seen, but the song itself doesn't sound all that bad…
-.-
Now we're broken on the floor
She just wants me to share her
It hasn't been this way before
She just wants me to dare her
Kyle, out of breath, had nearly run Stan over trying to get to him after school. Concerned, Stan propped up his boyfriend/lover/ "best friend," allowing the Jew to catch his breath and pack his bag. Once they were in Stan's car, and pulling out of the school parking lot, Kyle explained what he was in such a hurry about.
"Wendy knows," he said. Now it was Stan's turn to do a double take.
"Don't play games with me, Ky," he said.
"I swear to God I'm not, Stan!" the redhead insisted. "She cornered me in the library and blew our whole cover story aside. You need to talk with her, badly. She said she wouldn't tell, but she IS friends with Bebe…"
"OK, OK!" Stan said quickly. He knew the implications should Bebe Stevens get even a hint of anything more than friendship between him and Kyle. He dropped Kyle off at the other boy's home and headed off to Wendy's, a route he knew by heart. Her mother informed him she was in her room, and he brushed by her before she could ask if he wanted her to let her daughter know he was there, taking the stairs two at a time to Wendy's room, knocking on the door.
"Come in!" Wendy's voice filtered through, and Stan was in and had the door shut behind him almost before she finished. She looked honestly surprised to see him.
"What are you doing here?" she asked. "I told Kyle I wasn't going to tell anyone." Stan explained Kyle's worries about Bebe, which drew a laugh from Wendy, who told him that Bebe was as dumb as a post, and couldn't possibly draw such conclusions on her own.
"Kyle still seems to think that it might be a good idea if I go out with you for a while again though," Stan persisted. "Something about 're-asserting my masculinity,' if I heard him right." This really drew a laugh from the girl.
"Well, if Kyle insists, I guess I can share you for a while," she said, leaning over and giving him a kiss. Stan's response was decidedly half-hearted. She obviously wasn't Kyle, and it was clear that, this time at least, the "relationship" between Stan and Wendy wouldn't be a sexual one. Wendy was disappointed in this. It showed that it would make it even harder to keep their secret, because they were more into each other than perhaps even they consciously realized.
The phone rings
And she screams
Stab my back
It's better when I bleed for you
Walk on me
It never was enough to do
Stan, as a joke on Kyle's Jewish heritage, had Adam Sandler's "Hanukkah Song" as his ringtone for when Kyle called his cell. After Wendy pulled away from her kissing attack, Stan pulled the phone, which had gotten to "Bowser from 'Sha-Na-Na,' and Arthur Fonzerelli" from his jacket pocket, flipped it open, and answered.
"Hey Stan," Kyle's voice came through. "Have you talked to Wendy yet?" Typical Kyle, Stan mused, but he DID know Stan had a habit of doing things Kyle told him to rather quickly.
"Yeah dude, I'm there now. She finds the whole 'Bebe-finding-out' thing ridiculously funny, and the thing that she and I should get back together to 're-assert my masculinity' downright hilarious," Stan informed him. "Officially, we're a couple again, unless that bothers you."
"Not at all, dude," Kyle said. "Put me on with Wendy, I need to talk with her about something." Stan obligingly handed the phone over to his…girlfriend. Somehow the word no longer sounded right to him. He wondered to himself how long this would have to go on. 'Likely,' he thought to himself, 'until Kyle grows a backbone where his mother is concerned.' That was something that hadn't gone with age. Sheila Broflovski was still a bitchy dominatrix where Kyle was concerned, and Stan was certain that, barring a radical change in Kyle's mannerisms, there was no way the two of them would be able to come out as a couple until both were in college, hopefully somewhere not within a day's drive of one Mrs. Sheila Broflovski.
Returning his attention to Wendy, he found her laughing and going into something with Kyle that involved her talking really fast and looking at a day planner. Stan decided he would just ask Kyle later. It was Thursday, that meant they were going to study that night. Maybe more. Probably not, at least not until he was "broken up" with Wendy again.
When Wendy snapped the phone shut, she tossed it back to Stan and informed him they would be going to get a pizza and go see a movie the next night. Stan shrugged, said "OK," and asked if he could leave. This too made Wendy laughed as she waved him out of the room. Stan wondered if the girl was high, and backpedaled out of the room, down the stairs, out of the house, and back into his car. Once he got home, he watched a "Terrance and Philip" rerun, ate some macaroni and cheese, grabbed his homework and headed over to Kyle's.
I can't get past her
Falling faster
It's true
It hasn't done a lot for you
True to his assumptions, Stan and Kyle did nothing more than homework that night. Well, that wasn't quite true. Stan had tried some kosher food Kyle's mom was making for some special occasion or another. He'd also asked Kyle what he'd talked to Wendy about.
He
almost instantly regretted asking. Kyle pulled out a day planner
with dates circled in red on it and handed it to Stan. He and Wendy
had ACTUALLY PLANNED OUT when Stan and Wendy would be
"together,"
when they would "break up," what nights they would "date,"
even what they would do on these "dates." Stan had to hand it to
Kyle, he was quite a nerd, but that only made him love him more. He
did note with a small bit of happiness that he had two weeks of
"Kyle-time" which was marked in blue in the planner on average
between each bout with Wendy, which lasted an equal amount of time.
"Exactly what," he asked, "makes you think I like having to be both of your boytoys?" he asked, pouting. Kyle had chuckled and pushed him towards the door, saying "Behave yourself with Wendy, and I'll make sure the time you spend with me will get you through it." Stan had perked up like a dog near food, a squirrel being offered an acorn, or Tweek being offered a quintuple shot of espresso laced with coffee.
"You realize if you don't, I'm gonna kick you squah in tha nuts, right?" he asked, imitating Kyle's nemesis, the nefarious anti-everything Eric Cartman, who's hatred of Jews and minorities was only surpassed by his support of the most radical conservative policies he could learn about.
"Look closely at the schedule, loverboy," Kyle hissed, "I almost always get you when we're on break for something or other. That means you get even more of what we both know you can't resist." The last was delivered in such a sultry tone induced at getting Stan to "cheat" on Wendy in much more subtle ways, involving locked bedroom doors, cell-phones, and right hands. Stan, while quite enthusiastic about such possibilities, decided to play the oblivious jock.
"You know I hate math homework," he said with a straight-face that quickly dissolved into a shit-eating grin as he got the reaction he was after: an overtly dramatic smack of the forehead by Kyle, which knocked the fading ushanka askew. Kyle righted it and retreated back into the house. Before he could slam the door in Stan's face, the raven-haired boy remarked casually, "I'll call you later, Ky. Talk to ya then!" he said cheerfully as the door shut, allowing him to return home. It was ten by the time he got up to his room and locked the door.
And every time he held you close
Yeah, were you thinking of me
When I needed you the most
Well I hope that you're happy
Cell-phone sex was enough to satisfy Stan for one night. He was NOT, however, looking forward to spending the next two weeks under Wendy's thumb. He pulled out the day planner, and noted with some satisfaction that the two conspirators had at least managed to agree to leave Thursdays alone for him and Kyle. He, however, would be made to do SOMETHING with Wendy almost every other night. Spend time at each other's houses to watch TV, dinners, nighttime walks on the beach, movies, SHOPPING EXCURSIONS (!)?(!)? For an entire Saturday, in North Park. Stan let out a very audible groan, and it wasn't one of pleasure.
He HATED shopping, even when it was with Kyle and mostly consisted of getting what they were after within fifteen minutes and spending the rest of their time in the mall making fun of stupid people they ran into in other stores, or the funny looks they got from people while doing so. Shopping with a girl would be almost unbearable. She would drag him to the clothing stores while she tried on millions of top and skirt combinations, asking him each time if a certain combo made a certain aspect of her "too big." They would be made to go to the stupid candle store, and the little dumb kiosks that sold crap nobody needed, and the jewelry store. God forbid they should actually go to the novelty store, or pause for a lunch consisting of burgery goodness.
Shopping with girls, to Stan, represented the ultimate unforgivable sin. It was, to this young Catholic, the only acceptable reason for suicide. Suicide in very creative fashions, like getting one's necktie stuck in an escalator so it can slowly choke one to death, or attempting to bungee jump from an upper level with a cord made of silk ladies' scarves tied loosely together. It was NOT worth it, to have to go through all the clothes shopping, shoe shopping, purse shopping, kiosk browsing, jewelry shopping, and THEN sit through a chick flick in the mall movie theater with crappy stale popcorn and diet coke, because they couldn't be bothered to refill the things people actually WANTED to drink when they were in the presence of a girl. God Forbid.
The schedule was in Kyle's handwriting. For example, tomorrow night he was to
5:30: Pick up Wendy at her house (for God's sakes, dress decently and clean out your front seat!)
6:00: Arrive at restaurant (reservations are in your name, just ask and slip the maitre'd $20)
7:15: Ask for the check (don't skimp on your order. I'M the Jew, not you! )
7:30: Leave the restaurant (remember to tip 15)
7:45: Arrive at theater (you'll be seeing "We Are Marshall," Wendy thinks Matt McC is hawt. Bleh)
9:30ish: Leave the theater (assuming she doesn't want to see the credits)
10:00: Drop off Wendy at her home
10:15: Get back to your room
10:15:01: CALL ME!
Stan grinned, especially when he read Kyle's comments on the movie they were to see. He was initially surprised. "We Are Marshall" is a football movie, but apparently Wendy had a crush on McConnaughey. Well, one actor didn't make a movie, at least not for Stan, who pointed to Leonardo DiCaprio as an example for people who went to see movies just for one person. Or, as an even better example, "Gigli." Stan couldn't wait for the football action to begin, because it would initially be crappy and he could make fun of them, and then by the time the movie ended, be in envy of their "skills."
The phone rings
And she screams
Stab my back
It's better when I bleed for you
Walk on me
It never was enough to do
The next night rolled around, and Stan-having cleaned out his front seat and dressed nicely-drove to the Testaburger residence to collect Wendy, who was dressed in an obviously-new skirt and blouse. After making the obligatory niceties, they got into Stan's car for the drive to the restaurant, Wendy talking about how crappy school had been that day and how she was looking forward to seeing "McDreamy" with 70s hair coaching a bunch of young studs. Stan resisted and urge to smack himself in the forehead and issued a series of non-committal sounds, focusing his attention on the road.
The restaurant experience was equally uneventful. Stan wasn't really paying attention to Wendy, his thoughts were on a person of another gender entirely. It had only been one day, and he already missed being with Kyle. Although…Kyle didn't dress in skirts or really enjoy movies. He over analyzed them to death and-this is where Wendy interrupted Stan's thoughts by hitting him in the head with a roll to let him know his pasta was getting cold. Stan sheepishly grinned and took up his fork, inhaling most of the fettuccini before Wendy could get in another two bites of her Caesar salad, leaving Wendy to mutter something about "boys."
This triggered Stan's thought processes again, as he picked at the creamy noodles he wondered what Kyle was doing at the moment. He didn't know that Kyle was on the other side of the restaurant, and was in fact shadowing Stan and Wendy. He had a different hat on, switched glasses, and wore a fake mustache, but it was indeed Kyle. An extremely confused Kenny was playing the part of his "business associate," because Kenny remained one who wouldn't turn down the prospect of getting food on someone else's dime.
"…and so that's why I think that the dinosaurs were like Soviet Russia," Wendy finished. The pure absurdity of the statement was what shocked Stan of his funk this time. That, and there was apparently nothing else on his plate to pierce with his fork.
"Stan, are you listening?" Wendy asked as Stan checked his watch, noting the odd-looking businessman calling for his check. Shit! It was 7:15. Obviously in a hurry, Stan flagged down their waiter and procured their check, leaving two twenties to cover the bill and the tip as he practically dragged Wendy from the restaurant, ahead of the businessman and his companion, determined to stay on schedule.
I can't get past her
Falling faster
It's true
It's better when I bleed for you
The rest of the excursions followed a similar pattern. Stan just barely got through them, and secretly reveled in the late night phone chats with Kyle, and slaved through the week to get to Thursday, the oasis in his desert of a week. The two weeks with Wendy couldn't get over soon enough, and the two with Kyle, even with the time off from school, flew by. Stan chalked it up to the naps after sex that both he and Kyle still succumbed to, shaving two-to-four hours off each day.
The turn of events, overall, was working out. Far better, in fact, than the "Stan's got to study with me" excuses that they had been using previously. The fact that the status quo had been reestablished with Stan and Wendy's on-and-off again relationship meant that after a certain period of time, Stan would be sent "crying" to Kyle because Wendy "broke up" with him again, only to "make up" a couple weeks later and start the process going again. Nobody in school noticed anything suspicious in this, because that was just how things went. Wendy was a slutty, undeserving, stone-hearted bitch, Stan was a poor, run-down, constantly mistreated kid, and Kyle was his Super Best Friend. All of this was fact, and wouldn't change for the students at South Park High despite all of Cartman's fondest wishes.
I hope that love he gave you
Was just enough to save you
You nearly broke my heart
Just look at what you're tearing apart
Wendy, of course, was used to all this. It was South Park. Stan was the guy she didn't deserve and was way too big a bitch queen too. At first she'd asked, very defensively, if she wasn't entitled to a little payback for all the ruined berets and outfits he'd puked on. As time went on, however, and she dumped him again and again and again (and again), the more she convinced people that she was a heartless bitch who just didn't care.
When Kyle had suggested scheduling this routine to allow them to share Stan, the idea had intrigued her. That way, they'd be able to maintain a semi-stable relationship, and she'd be able to maintain her reputation. More importantly, it would be easier to keep their secret. Who, aside from Cartman, who accused every male in the school except himself of being a "queermo gaywad assrammer," would ever question Stan's heterosexuality?
They really were cute together, she reflected. Following night after night of no action from Stan, she had taken to fantasizing about the two together. One question she still hadn't answered was who went where. On the one hand, it had always been hard for Stan to be "on top" because of his asthma, but on the other, it was more likely for the nerd to be the "submissive" to the star quarterback-jock-type's "dominant." She had solved this by convincing herself that they switched. It made it so much hotter. She knew how hot Stan was, and pieced together a picture of Kyle based on what she'd heard from the girls he'd dated.
In between fantasies and dates with Stan, she'd managed to use her position of authority as editor of the school newspaper to go over Bebe's gossip columns with a fine tooth comb to make sure no one was speculating as to the relationship between herself and Stan, and Stan and Kyle. Any reference she found was deleted and rebutted to Bebe, who-gullible girl that she was-believed it only until she heard it again from somebody else that Stan and Kyle were "100 totally" in "wuve" with each other.
Stab my back
It's better when I bleed for you
Walk on me
It never was enough to do
Eventually, Wendy got tired of defending the secret from Bebe, and out and out threatened her that if she had to delete ONE MORE mention of Stan hooking up with Kyle from her column, she'd pull the entire thing and not let Bebe write anymore of them. Wendy had never liked the gossip column in the first place, she only tolerated it because she was friends with Bebe.
Blowing it off as "one of those things that's only interesting the first or second time you read it," and convincing the girl that Cartman was probably the person starting all the gossip about the pair (neither girl liked the Fatass), Bebe agreed to never write about a possible homosexual relationship between the Cows' star QB and the Senior Class President again.
Cartman-his plans for revenge against the hippie and the Jew thwarted-took to writing scathing letters to the editor where he continued to push his insinuations. Wendy simply shredded them, and bumped his opinion column when he tried to use that as a mouthpiece for them in favor of a school survey on "Whether or Not Terrance and Philip Are Starting To Lose Their Originality" that was overwhelmingly affirmative in its conclusion that the Canadian duo were starting to get old.
I can't get past her
Falling faster
It's true
It hasn't done a lot for you
After Wendy passed word of Cartman's attempts to expose the two, Kyle, Stan, and Wendy tightened up the charade, much to the chagrin of Stan and Kyle. They decided that Kyle would start studying over at Stan's house during their two weeks together for a change of pace, in case Cartman was actually on to them (Wendy assured them, based on what he had written so far, that he was not), but the two lovers decided it was better to be safe than sorry.
Wendy almost felt sorry for what the two of them had to go through to maintain their secret. It shouldn't have to happen, but she didn't know why it actually did. She thought the War with Canada had cured Kyle of his inability to stand up to his mother. Little did she know. Kyle suspected that he would suddenly befall all manners of bodily harm should he and Stan come out in South Park. Graduation was only a couple of months away, if they could continue the charade that long, he and Stan would head to college as quickly as possible, wait a month, then come out.
It's better when I bleed for you
It never was enough to do
It hasn't done a lot for….
Wendy just wondered if they'd be able to pull it off.
-.-
Author's Notes: OK, not as bad as I thought. Surprisingly, it's actually kind of cheerful. Maybe because I've been getting plenty of sleep lately, tonight being the obvious exception.
Kindly review for your Holiday Pastry of Choice, and stay tuned me doing another crack at Move Along. This is actually harder than I expected. I suspect that a certain someone will throw a certain monkey wrench into some certain plans of a certain "hippie" and a certain Jew. Why am I using the word "certain" so much? I don't know. Maybe I just like typing it now. Kind of a repetition thing.
Anyway, rambling, so I hope to wake up to some nice, fresh reviews tomorrow morning! Thankies much,
El Autor
