Chapter 4

"Kyle, what the fuck?" he said in disbelief. He pushed me away, stood up and staggered back, his eyes wide and his mouth agape. I simply looked at him. "Jesus…" he muttered.

My face went beat red and I felt tears well up in my eyes. I didn't know what I'd been thinking, kissing my best friend like that. I certainly didn't expect him to respond like I'd hoped, but this wasn't what I expected, either.

Stan just looked at me. Tears leaked out of my eyes, and I looked away from him. "I…I'm sorry, I don't know why…why I did that, Stan," I managed to choke out. He kept staring at me, expression surprised and dubious. My mind raced like never before.

My heart fell as Stan simply turned around and left, leaving my front door wide open and driving off hastily.

I stood there, my legs unable to move, my mind unable to process what had just happened. I stared out the door, not caring if the cold wind blew in and made me shiver. I wasn't sad. I wasn't even angry, just embarrassed, and nervous. Mostly, though, I was numb.

I could feel the blood rush to my face as Kenny laughed at me. I knew telling him what had happened at Stan's would be a mistake. I scowled and turned away from him.

"Christ, Kyle, chill," he commanded. He took a sip from the beer can in his hand. He quickly scanned the crowd in the bar for Cartman and Stan, who'd gone to bum some weed off of Clyde ten minutes ago. "I've been there, man. Can't win 'em all, right?"

I gave him a look. Like Kenny had ever kissed his best friend. Like Kenny had ever been pushed away by his best friend and watched him run away from him. I relived the event in my head, cringing as I recalled the look of horror that had stolen upon Stan's usually smooth features.

Kenny sighed. "Just give it some time, man, that's all I can tell you. At least to didn't try to feel him up," I must have worn an interesting look, because he laughed. "Yeah, I've been there," he said with a smirk and another drink of beer.

I simply shook my head and glanced toward the front of the bar again. Cartman and Stan were making their way toward our table.

Stan handed Kenny some money and a plastic bag, and the two sat down in our booth. Stan looked awkwardly at me, and I glanced at Kenny. Kenny gave me a look I couldn't understand, and Cartman gave us all puzzled looks. We stared at each other uncomfortably for a few moments before Cartman spoke up.

"Jeez, who the fuck died?" I almost laughed. Kenny and Stan rolled their eyes and took a drink. "Someone do some talking!" he commanded.

Stan gave him a look. "Well…" he cleared his throat distractively. "Me and Wendy are going to Denver this weekend," he said. Cartman scoffed, and Kenny was too busy eye-fucking some chick a few yards away to listen.

"What for?" I provided.

"She's going to see some family and said I should come. Whatever, though," he added, trying to seem uninterested. I tried to smile, but gave up easily.

My mother pounded on my door and demanded that I wake up for school. I groaned, sitting up and holding my stomach, remembering the dream I'd had instantly. How I hated that damn dream. I tried desperately to think of something else as that day in my living room relived itself in my mind.

I stood up and got dressed quickly, ignoring the rather throbbing pain in my head as usual. We really needed to stop drinking on school nights…

"Kyle, someone's on the phone for you!" my mom hollered up the stairs.

I groaned. "Okay, Mom!" I shouted back, grabbing a few textbooks off of my desk and throwing them into my backpack before picking up the phone.

"Hello?"

"Kyle?" Stan's voice asked.

I rolled my eyes. "No, this is Kyle's evil twin," I said, heavily adding the sarcasm. He chuckled softly. "What do you want, Stan?" I asked boredly, his laughing stopping abruptly.

"Kyle, we need to talk," he said quietly after a few seconds. I said nothing, debating whether to simply hang up or not. "You there?"

I coughed. "Oh. Yeah, sure."

"How about I'll drive you home and we'll talk. 'K dude?" he asked. I heard a loud, girlish laugh in the background and I immediately scowled.

"Why the fuck is Wendy over there?" I asked automatically. Stan sighed, making some stupid excuse about helping her with her homework before school. I, of course, new this was total bullshit, though, seeing as how Wendy was usually the one helping Stan.

After Stan muttered a few words to Wendy, to me he said, "I've got to go. Wrestling practice before school," I said nothing. "See ya," he added.

"Yeah. Bye," I said, even though Stan had already hung up the phone on the other end. Without letting myself think about what Stan wanted to tell me after school, I hurried out the door and started towards the school.

Either Stan and Wendy had made up, or they were really fucking good actors.

I stared in agony as I watched my best friend and his girlfriend make out down the hallway. I looked away, taking the long way through the school to get to my locker.

By the 'long' way, I meant that my locker was a few feet away from them, and I would have to go up a floor, through the hallway, down into the shop, through the gym, and back around the corner. But it was better than getting closer.

I hurried up the stairs, running straight into Craig. I stumbled backward and groaned, realizing that I'd banged heads with him. My hand flew to my throbbing skull, and I grunted a 'sorry'. He sighed, looking up and flipping me off as he brushed past me in irritation. I looked up, to see Butters trying to stifle a laugh as he walked by.

Making a point of ignoring him, I continued through the hall and down the steps into the shop. To my surprise, Kenny was inside, leaning over a broken car.

"I didn't know you did autoshop," I commented. Kenny looked up and nodded. It was the end of the day, and I knew Kenny didn't take shop class. At least, not since fourth grade when he'd been grinded through a power tool.

"Lets steam off, y'know?" he muttered, reaching his hand into the front of the car. "It's nice to not have think about anything for a bit. Nice to not have to go home for a few more hours…"

I didn't say anything to that. We all knew Kenny had a rough home life, but Stan, Cartman and I never mentioned it. It was better that way. I figured things must've been really bad if Kenny, the school's resident whore, would rather be at school than at home jacking off to a playboy magazine.

"I gotta go," I said.

Kenny smirked. "Going to talk to Stan, right?" I gave him a puzzled look. "Just a lucky guess," he murmured, turning back to the shitty car. I fought the heat rising to my face and hurriedly said goodbye. I rushed through the gym and down the hall to my locker.

Thankfully, Wendy had left, (hopefully to jump off a bridge…) and Stan remained, waiting for me. I took a deep breath, knowing how awkward this was going to be.

"Hey," Stan said casually as I spun the lock on my locker and opened it. "What's up? Haven't seen you all day."

I shrugged. "You seemed…busy, with Wendy," I said stupidly. Stan bit his lip as I shoved my books and things into my bag.

"Well, Wendy decided that we could go out without having to sleep together," he said, almost cheerfully. I nodded. "So we're not mad at each other. That's good."

I shut my locker door and flung my backpack over my shoulder, following Stan towards the front of the school.

"So," I began uncomfortably. Stan said nothing, just looked around the empty hallways. "You wanted to talk about…stuff," I stated, not being able to bring myself to say it. Stan simply nodded as we stepped outside into the cold.

We said nothing more as we walked through the parking lot and hopped into Stan's truck. When we did, Stan sighed.

"Kyle, I'm sorry."

My eyes widened in shock. Of all the things I'd been expecting, none of them came close to that. I tried to collect my thoughts quickly, my heart pounding.

Before I could think straight, I blurted out, "What the fuck are you sorry for? This was all my fault," and Stan simply shook his head.

"I…I was such an asshole," he said quietly, his face growing red. "I was just surprised, y'know? It's not every day I find out my best friend, well, since Kenny, is…is…" he couldn't say it. After all that 'sorry' bullshit, he couldn't even say it.

I gave him a look. "Say it, Stan."

"Gay."

I just stared out the windshield, nodding.

Stan didn't say anything for a few minutes. He started up the truck before he said, "It's okay, Kyle."

My jaw dropped. Then, after the surprise, I was pissed. "It's okay?" I demanded. "You pushed me away, and got up, and stormed out!" Stan sighed, looking around the vehicle awkwardly.

"It was just shock, okay? Wouldn't you be surprised if you thought your best friend was…normal, and all of a sudden, he fucking kisses you?" he said persuasively. I simply shrugged; focusing on the emphasis he'd put on the word 'normal'.

Stan said, "Look, Kyle. I get it," but I cut him off.

"Oh, you know all about having a crush on you best friend, do you?" I demanded sarcastically, fighting back tears.

"Yeah," Stan all but whispered. He suddenly grabbed my hand, entwining his fingers in mine and leaning closer to me. My confused mind raced, trying to process what was happening. "I do know," he added huskily, his breath on my neck.

And suddenly, for the second time in a week, my best friend's lips were so wrongfully on mine.