Sorry for the delay on this chapter, I meant to have it posted yesterday but my creative juices were at an absolute stand-still yesterday. So the first part of the story, mainly the part with Craig and Kenny, might not be all that great so I am VERY sorry.

Enjoy, please. : )

"Uuugh," Kenny looked at his high school and sank. Once you went in that place, there was no coming out until school was over and roughly 7 hours of your life had passed you by. He started to whine loudly as he and Craig moved closer and closer to the large building.

"What's your problem," Craig didn't look concerned.

"I can't do it, man."

"Christ's sake, it's only Wednesday Kenny."

Kenny stopped and turned to his friend, a look of pure desperation on his face. "Let's skip."

"Jesus."

"C'monnnn."

Craig sighed loudly, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Will you shut up if I skip with you?"

"Yes!" A hopeful expression soon filled Kenny's face. Maybe he wouldn't have to drown in a goddamn class room all day!

Kenny gestured excitedly with his arms when Craig agreed, but then called his attention back to his friend to hear the rest of his sentence. "-But I'm going to first period, I like science."

Craig didn't look too happy so Kenny thanked him and started walking away quickly. He yelled to Craig behind him and practically skipped away with glee. "I'll meet you at Stark's Pond!" Craig just nodded to himself, turned around and went to class.

Kenny ran the entire way to Stark's Pond; he couldn't get away from his class rooms fast enough. He knew it was only Wednesday, and he should rightly be able to handle more than just two days of class, but he couldn't. The idea of having to sit in a cold room with no windows and listen to somebody talk about something they didn't understand was unbearable.

Kenny set his back pack on the ground and sat beside it. He thought for a while about some of his class mates. He pictured how his life might be if he still hung out with Kyle, Stan, and Cartman. He chuckled quietly, if he still hung out with them he'd probably be dead right now. There was nothing wrong with his old friends- well there was nothing wrong with Stan and Kyle, he just hated being the expendable one. It's like they didn't realize or care that every time he died, he went to Hell for an unknown amount of time.

Kenny laid back in the snow, crossing his arms behind his head.

He wasn't bitter towards them, he was just sick of it. He didn't feel like joining them on their crazy adventures just to be the one that got eaten by an extinct species of dinosaur or crushed by some random tree branch, large rock, or elevator. He enjoyed Craig because Craig was just Craig. He wasn't Craig: Voted most likely to be Hitler and send all minorities into oblivion. He wasn't even Craig: Star foot ball player and voted happiest couple with life-long girlfriend. He wasn't anything but what he truly wanted to be, and Kenny was oddly attracted to it.

He reached his hand out in front of him, stretching and flexing his fingers. He laid there thinking for the whole hour and a half it took Craig to be excused from class and arrive.

"What are you doing?" Craig had walked up to Kenny and stopped, noticing that his friend was oddly captivated by his own hand.

"Look, I can't move my ring finger without moving my pinky."

"That's the same with everybody," Kenny looked up at Craig for the first time since he'd been there.

"Oh yeah? Show me."

Craig held up his hand as if to show Kenny that he couldn't move one finger without the other as well, but instead he just flipped Kenny off.

Kenny frowned slightly, placing his extended arm back behind his head. Craig threw his back pack on the ground next to Kenny's and sat down.

"So…" Craig tried to lie down next to his friend, but the snow was too cold on his back and he sat up again. "Why did you want to come here?"

"I don't know, is there some place you'd rather be?"

"Not really, there's just nothing to do here,"

"We could swim," Kenny sat upright suddenly.

"What? No we can't."

"Yeah, Dude. Watch," Kenny stood up off the ground, walking to the edge of the icy lake.

"Kenny, what are you doing?"

Kenny took off his shoes and left them in the snow, walking toward the dock just a few feet away from him. Walking on the dock was colder than walking in the grass and it made a small burst of chills to rack up Kenny's spine.

"You can't swim in the water, Kenny, you'll drown," Craig started to stand up, walking closer to Kenny.

His jacket was unzipped and discarded, leaving Kenny in only his thin shirt before it too was thrown onto the dock.

A flutter made Craig's stomach sink when Kenny had started to discard his clothes, but he brushed it off. He picked up his pace, walking to the edge of the dock and mentally preparing himself for anything Kenny might do.

Kenny started to sprint toward the edge of the dock, but skidded to a stop on the very last plank of wood, turning and laughing to his friend. "Don't worry, I'll just come back."

Craig just stood there. He realized quickly that Kenny was going to do whatever Kenny was going to do, so he simply sighed and picked up Kenny's shirt, shoes, and jacket, placing them on top of their back packs' so they would stay dry. He then walked up to the edge of the dock again. Kenny was looking down at the ice-water beneath him. He discarded his pants and threw them at Craig. "Dude, 'the fuck are you doing? I don't want to see that."

"I don't want 'em to get wet, they're my only pair!"

"Oh you don't want your clothes to get wet? 'Kay, here's an idea: Don't jump in the goddamn water!" Craig threw the pants back at Kenny, but he just placed them on the snowy dock behind him.

Kenny shook his head and backed up a few feet. He waited about as long as two fractions of a second before launching himself into the frozen pond like a cannon ball.

Kenny always did weird shit like this, doing things that were seemingly fatal to others. Craig wondered if Kenny did them for that reason- because he could. It must have been exciting to cheat death like that. He'd stand on the very edge of high roof tops, jump into literally freezing water like this. It was fascinating to Craig, way more fascinating than science class. He was oddly drawn to Kenny's absurd actions, the things he'd say, the actions he'd take. He was so different from anyone else at school that it was surprisingly refreshing to be around him.

Kenny resurfaced in a matter of seconds, happily screaming. "WOAH! We should NOT be in this water, Craig!"

"Yeah, no shit!" Craig walked to the edge of the dock to help his friend out of the water. "Don't pull me in, I swear to god."

Kenny took his hand thankfully and was lifted until he was securely standing on the dock once again. He stood there hyperventilating with the biggest smile on his face until he had the means to put his clothes back on. He picked up his pants as if he was going to throw his clothes back on and then stay by the pond, but Craig stopped him.

"No way, Dude. You need to come to my house and take a hot shower."

"But I just did."

"That, was not a shower. That was you trying not to die for about a second. C'mon," Craig gave him his own jacket and the one he'd previously discarded.

Kenny put his pants on over his soaked boxers, placing his shoes on his feet and wrapping his and Craig's jackets around his body. They walked to Craig's house slowly and upon arriving told Craig's mom that Kenny had fallen into a pond by accident and the two of them were made to leave school.

Dylan was excited, to say the least. He tried to calmly walk through the halls at lunch time while he searched for Bebe. The entirety of his plan was written inside of his spiral, it was without a doubt the best plan ever. He walked into the Science wing, she was no where to be seen. He walked into the lunch room, no luck there either. He searched the hallway that held the girls bathroom, but the blonde girl had not turned up anywhere. He began up the stairs, searching random hallways until suddenly he heard his nick name.

"Hey, Goth Kid!"

He turned to where the voice had come from, spotting Bebe inside their shared English room. "Don't fucking call me that."

"S-ooorry. You never told me your name," Bebe was sitting on top of her desk, her back pack in the seat behind it.

He sat on the desk across from her, opening his own back pack and fishing through it for his spiral. "It's Dylan."

At first, Bebe didn't understand what he was saying, then it dawned on her that he'd told her his name and she didn't know how to respond. In all seriousness, she hadn't actually expected him to tell her his name and now that he had, it was weird. She felt shallow all of a sudden. She pictured hearing his name and going 'Ooooh, I remember. That is your name, how silly of me to forget!' But that's not what happened. She had legitimately never heard his name before. "Oh…" Was all she said.

Dylan stopped looking through his back pack and looked at her. "What?"

"No, nothing it's just-"

"What."

"It's just I never pictured you as a Dylan…" She lied and felt even more awful for it. She couldn't believe that she had asked this complete stranger for help, a pink tinge of embarrassment filled her cheeks.

"Whatever," He didn't seem at all bothered that Bebe had had no clue what his name was. He yanked the spiral out of his back pack quickly; flipping to the page with the plan scribbled all over it, and thrust it into Bebe's hands.

She read through the notes very carefully, letting the entire thing sink in before placing the spiral down on her lap and looking Dylan in the eyes. "Wow."

"Yeah, you can change some of it if you want, y'know."

"No, no. This is great!" She laughed a little and read through it quickly once again. "It's perfect!"

Dylan smiled to himself. Even though this was Bebe Stevens complimenting him, it still felt nice.

Suddenly Bebe stood up. "Okay, let's do this."

"Do what?" He looked at the spiral. "Right now?"

Bebe nodded vigorously. "Yep, we have to set everything up soon if we're going to get him today. Let's shoot for the period after lunch."

Dylan, granted, was a bit surprised at Bebe's eagerness, but as soon as she'd grabbed her bag and headed for the door, he did the same. They walked down the hall side by side, discussing things like the best way to go about this and the best object to use for that. Pretty soon by the end of lunch they had everything set up.

"So we're gonna watch this happen, right?" Dylan looked at the short girl next to him.

"Oh hell, yeah."

"You're not worried about missing class? I thought you stupid jocks liked school."

"Okay there are a lot of things wrong with that statement," Bebe put her hand on her hip and looked up at Dylan. "One, I'm not a jock, I'm a cheerleader-"

"Same thing!"

"Na na na na, no. Okay listen to me. Girl jocks are the like super aggressive lacrosse players that do girl rugby and like powder puff foot ball and shit. Cheerleaders are just hot."

"Says you."

"Two," Bebe raised her voice, trying to ignore his comment. Dylan just laughed and crossed his arms, looking at her. "Nobody likes class, jocks just go to class all of the time because if they don't then they get kicked off of the foot ball team. And three, screw you, you like go smoke behind the school instead of going to class all the time."

"No I don't, you've just never noticed me sitting in class before," Okay, so just because he could hold a conversation with the girl didn't mean she was decent. She was still a stupid blonde bitch, she was just also mildly entertaining.

"Yeah, well, whatever."

Dylan smirked and looked forward once again. Next period, Clyde was going down.

- - - - After school.

Dylan set off for his house after school swelling with pride. His plan had worked out perfectly, Clyde had been so embarrassed that he'd run out of the class room and into a bathroom at the other end of the school which, hilariously enough, caused many more people to be included in the not-so-inside joke.

Dylan and Bebe were so happy with the results that they'd spent an extra couple of minutes together before parting to their respective friend groups (Dylan parting instead to arrive late to his class). But now the whole deal was over with and the both of them could continue on with their lives, never speaking to each other again…

Dylan didn't quite have enough time to diagnose his sudden drop in mood, he'd heard something snap behind him. A twig maybe? Whatever it was, it didn't matter anymore because he heard a voice. "Hey, Red Goth."

Dylan got very angry very quickly and turned around. "Don't fucking-" Before him stood four of what appeared to be SPH's biggest athletes. "'The fuck do you want."

One of the four men stepped forward. "We heard you don't have a very good sense of humor. We thought we'd act like the nice guys we are and help you change it."

Whatever these guys were doing didn't sound like something Dylan wanted to be a part of. Now you must understand, Dylan would never ever run from a fight. Especially a fight against dumb-ass jocks, but something in the back of Dylan's mind told him he wasn't going to live through this.

Two of the beast-like men took steps forward, and Dylan's eyes grew wide. He took a step back, hesitating when the group in front of him didn't make a move. He nervously took another step backward- wrong idea. The group made a move to grab him, so he turned and tried to sprint away but it was too late, one of them caught his arm. The guy jerked him so hard toward them that his back pack flew off his arm and onto the grass beside them. Before he knew what'd happened, his head started spinning from a fierce punch to the face. Another of the men punched him, making him dizzy enough not to catch himself before he hit the ground. He held his bleeding nose. "What the FUCK!"

"You think it's funny to make fun of somebody like that?" Dylan rested his throbbing head against his hand, he really really wanted his vision to stop spinning.

"Listen to him, man, he's laughing about it right now. He thinks it's fucking funny."

"Well I don't think he'll be laughing much after this."

Dylan held his stomach, it didn't feel right. He didn't know what it was, but he did know that being kneed there so many times would make something not right. It felt soft, had it always felt that soft? He didn't remember. As the four boys started walking away from him, he heard them start talking again.

"Goddamn little faggot, I hope he learned his lesson."

"Yeah, I'm sure he did. I hope that girl learns her lesson too."

Despite all of the blood that was probably filling his ears, Dylan swore he heard them threaten Bebe. He started trying to talk, but only little grumbles came out at first.

"Is he makin' noise over there?"

"Ew, he's like coughing up blood."

"Don't," Dylan shakily started talking, lifting himself on weak arms. "Don't fucking touch Bebe."

"Don't talk to me, you emo fuck."

"Didn't you hear me?" Dylan put a hand to the bleeding half of his forehead, searching for his back pack lazily. "I said don't you fucking touch her," Dylan hated Bebe Stevens, don't get him wrong. There was just something seriously FUCKED UP with four guys ganging up and doing to her what they'd done to him.

The guys scoffed, saying something he didn't quite hear before they all magically disappeared somehow and it was all of a sudden dark outside. Dylan tried to scream at them before they vanished but by the time he'd finished his sentence, they were gone. So he kept saying the same sentence over and over until he realized that he was somehow in his bed. He put his hand to his throbbing head and said it again.

"Don't touch her."