Yes, I changed the title. Why? Because the old one sucked and had nothing to do with the story. Also, the title 'Backstabber' just appeals more to the angst in the story and makes more sense!
A bit more news to tell you...if you haven't visited my website yet, you might want to. I've made posters for this story with pictures of people representing the characters. Some of them are quite cool—feel free to browse on over there. Or you can just read this chapter. If you wanna see the posters, the link to my site is on my profile.
Anyway, MERRY CHRISTMAS and enjoy the chapter!
Stan wished he'd just lain there, in the middle of the road, oblivious to the world around him and cold damp seeping through his clothes. He wished Wendy hadn't seen him fall from the window. He wished she hadn't come rushing out to wake him up. He wished she hadn't pulled him up and dragged him back into the house. He wished he hadn't let her run her fingers through his hair. He wished he hadn't liked it. He wished she hadn't started crying all over again. He wished she hadn't apologized. He wished he hadn't apologized. He wished she hadn't started kissing him. He wished he hadn't liked it. He wished he hadn't started kissing her back. He wished he hadn't pressed her against the cabinets in the kitchen. He wished he hadn't taken her shirt off. He wished she hadn't taken his shirt off. He wished her parents had been home. He wished he hadn't let her pull him upstairs to her room. He wished he hadn't pushed her down onto the bed. He wished he hadn't shoved his tongue in her mouth. He wished she hadn't battered his tongue against his. He wished he hadn't liked it. He wished he hadn't taken off the rest of her clothes. He wished he hadn't let her take off the rest of his clothes. He wished he hadn't fucked her.
He wished he hadn't liked it.
*
Kyla yelped when her locker door was slammed shut with a metallic bang. Cartman stood before her, his fat, ugly face twisted in a sneer. "Hey, Jew." He must have seen the burning rage in her eyes because his face fell and he took a step back, his hands out. "Hey, no hard feelings, right?"
Kyla's books fell to the floor with a clatter as she lunged at him. He grunted when her fist made contact with his fat cheek, sending him reeling back a few steps. She wasn't strong enough (or he was just too fat) to knock him right over; she wasn't satisfied yet.
"I told you I'd kill you if you told him," she spat, advancing towards him again, her fist in the air. "I told you I would wipe that goddamn smile of your fucking face for good if you told him!" She lunged for him again, but someone caught her around the waist and swung her around, away from her gaping nemesis. The fat fuck had his hand on his cheek, the stupidest look of shock on his fat fucking face.
Kyla struggled against her captor; she ended up bighting his hand. He yelped and let her go in surprise. Without thinking, Kyla whirled and socked him square in the face.
Before she could see who she had just assaulted, somebody else grabbed her and shoved her back against the lockers in a headlock so tight she couldn't breathe. She struggled and kicked, but Cartman wouldn't let up. He held her face against his thigh as he growled in her ear. "You'd better watch yer goddamn Jew back, bitch," he spat, tightening his grip further. "Touch me again and I'll hit you so hard yer cunt-hole moma will feel it. Got it?" He gave her a little warning shake for emphasis.
Kyla was presently turning blue and not paying much attention to what Cartman was saying. She desperately hit at his fat leg, making pitiful little choking noises. Cartman finally let her go, and she fell to the floor, gasping for air, retching as her lungs wailed in need. Someone was yelling Stan's name. Stan's name? Why...?
Kyla looked up, avoiding the gaping stares of the students that had gathered in the hallway, they're faces shocked, amused, or worried. She saw Cartman being dragged off by Craig and some other kid, his fat face bright red with rage as he tried to go at Kyla again. She looked around more and saw Stan standing a few feet away, nursing his bloody nose. Wendy was hanging off of his arm, trying to help him with a tissue. He was looking at Kyla with the strangest expression. As if he were...impressed.
Someone's fingers wrapped around Kyla's upper arms and pulled her to her feet. She gasped at the sudden movement and careened straight into Kenny's torso. He supported her easily, and when she looked up she saw that his brows were arched upwards in worry, the crease in between them prominent under the fluorescents. His cheeks were red, as if he'd run a long way.
"Are you okay?" he demanded, his voice higher than usual.
It struck her. Kenny was really worried. There was fear in his eyes as he took in her pale face and raspy breathing. She nodded; she couldn't speak yet. He carefully pulled her into him, hugging her gently so as not to irritate her air intake any further.
"Are you sure?" he asked, pulling away. His eyes darkened with anger. "I'm gonna kill that son of a bitch."
"Allow—me," Kyla managed to choke out, smiling weakly.
Kenny's face broke into a careful, wary smile; his eyes were still burning with anger.
"I'm fine," Kyla assured him, straightening herself out. "I went at him."
"You what?" he demanded, his eyebrows disappearing under his bangs.
"I hit him," she declared proudly.
"You hit Cartman? Why?"
She smirked. "Do I really have to have a reason?"
Kenny chuckled lightly and rubbed her upper arms with his palms. "Well, good on you, Kyla. But, do me a favour? Next time you go to hit someone, be sure you know how to defend yourself in case they come right back on you. Promise?"
She laughed: a raspy, horrible sound. "I promise."
"Cartman's such a douche; he would hit a girl." Kenny rolled his eyes, but his jaw was tight.
"He didn't hit me," Kyla told him, defending her dignity rather than him. "He just—"
"Tried to kill you." Kenny finished bitterly.
"He wouldn't have actually choked me to death. I think I can safely say that if I died Cartman would be quite distraught." She smiled at the thought of Cartman bawling at her grave.
"Yeah," Kenny said coolly. "Then he wouldn't have anyone to slap around."
"We've never fought before," Kyla pointed out. "Not physically, anyway."
"Hey, Broflovski," someone called. "Nice fist, you got there."
She turned around. Stan was standing a few feet away, that cute little lopsided smirk on his face, dry blood waiting to be cleaned off of his nose. "But next time...hit the enemy, not the accomplice."
Her face fell and her eyes went wide. "Oh! Stan—my God, I'm sorry!"
He held up a hand, silencing her. "Don't worry about it. It didn't hurt that much. I'm just hella impressed you actually hit him."
"He deserved it," Kyla said darkly. "The fat fuck." She looked back at Stan, who was still smiling at her in that odd, yet slightly cute, way. "I'm sorry I hit you, Stan."
"My fault."
"What? How is if your fault?"
"I got in the way. Dunno why I did that. I really should have just let you pummel him."
"And let her get pummelled back, I see," Kenny snapped, staring Stan down with disdain in his proud blue eyes.
Stan's face fell and Kyla hated Kenny for a few seconds. "She's fine," Stan said, gesturing to her. "Look at her."
"She wasn't fine a few minutes ago," Kenny retorted.
"Kenny, it wasn't Stan's fault." Kenny started to say something but Kyla gave his chest a shove. "Come on. You know it wasn't. If you wanna point fingers, bring 'em here." She pointed to her face.
Kenny growled obscenities as he retreated, mumbling something about going to class. That was bullshit; Kenny rarely bothered to go to class anymore.
By then the crowd of witnesses had pretty much dispersed. Kyla and Stan were practically alone in the hallway. Kyla looked around, a little surprised a teacher hadn't come storming in during the little squabble. Then she looked at Stan. His mouth was twisted to one side as he bit the inside of his cheek, looking at her.
"Where's Wendy?" she asked, just for something to say. She was scared that saying the bitch's name would make her appear.
"Went to class, after I shook her off my arm," Stan explained. The comment wasn't accompanied by the usual eye-roll or scoff. In fact, he looked thoughtful as he spoke of his girlfriend. Like he actually cared about her all of a sudden.
Kyla shuffled her feet, raking her brain for something intelligent to say. This was stupid. Since when did she have nothing to say to Stan? "You didn't call me last night," she said stupidly, biting her lip.
He started, as if he had forgotten she was there. "Oh. Yeah. Was I supposed to call you?"
"No. I don't know. I thought you might." Stupid. Stupid, stupid. Kyla should have just said good-bye and skipped off to class, but she found herself reluctant to leave Stan's presence.
Stan nodded as if her reply made perfect sense. He wasn't paying attention. Off in his own world...
"Wanna cut?" Kyla asked. The question had formed out of thin air, and before she could stop it it was out there.
Stan looked up, bemused. "Kyla Broflovski cutting class? Never thought I'd see the day."
"I have P.E.," Kyla explained, waving the stupid class off. "Let's go skating or something."
Stan kept on chewing on his cheek, contemplating the offer. It was tempting. Kyla watched as he mulled it over, unconsciously tapping her foot. Stan shook his head slowly and stuffed his hands in his jeans' pockets. "I can't. I'm meeting Wendy at lunch."
Kyla's heart sank. "After lunch?"
He laughed. "I've got a spare after lunch; I'm gonna go down to watch Wendy's volleyball game."
Wendy Wendy Wendy Wendy Wendy WENDY!
Kyla clenched and unclenched her teeth, wondering what to do. Why did she have this sudden urge—need—to hang out with Stan? She'd survived before, when he spent all his time with Wendy. But this week she'd grown used to his after school visits and weekend outings. She'd thought she'd won back his friendship. But something must have happened with Wendy; she must have yelled at him or something. Now he was probably feeling like a bad boyfriend and ditching me to make it up to her.
Kyla huffed and shrugged, trying to make it seem like his abandonment didn't matter. "Oh. Okay. Well, I'll see you later, I guess."
"Yeah." He was going to bite his cheek off the way he was gnawing at it. "See ya."
"Bye."
Neither of them moved.
"Maybe—"
"Yeah."
Silence.
"I'll just—"
"—go." They both said this at the same time.
Stan's eyes shone. That smirk was back. "You dropped your books," he pointed out without looking at the mess on the floor.
Kyla blushed and dropped to her knees. Stan remained where he was, watching her gather her things and shove them into her bag. She straightened and her lips formed a tight line when she realized he hadn't moved. "Don't you have somewhere to be?" There was no one in the hall. Class had started ten minutes ago.
He shrugged.
She bit her own lip and shuffled her feet, reluctant to move away. What was wrong with her? What was wrong with him?
"Do you want to talk?" she asked quietly.
His eyes widened slightly, and then he nodded slowly.
She sighed and passed by him, heading for the door. "Come on, then. Let's talk."
He followed her outside, where the wind was stirring up the fresh layer of snow in violent gusts. Kyla's curls went wild, bloody locks against the white background of the school grounds. Stan's bangs were blasted from his face, his scarf flapping behind him as they moved for the cover of the huge oak tree by the gym.
"So?" Kyla asked, waiting for him to start talking. "What do you want to talk about?"
"It's not a talk," he whispered, not meeting her eyes. "It's a confession."
"Hit me with it."
"It might upset you."
"Why?"
"It might."
"Well, whatever. Bring it."
"I slept with Wendy."
Kyla felt as if he'd slapped her. Too late, she realized she probably looked it, too. Stan's face fell when he looked at her, his mouth tight as if he wished he hadn't told her. She shook her head and plastered a smile onto her face, reaching out to clap him on the back. "Well, well, well," she said as enthusiastically as she could muster. "It's about time, dude! When?"
"Saturday night," Stan said, as he exhaled quickly, his tense expression turning to one of relief. "It just sorta...happened."
Kyla laughed once and toed at the ground. Snow was beginning to fall in light, clumpy flakes, turning the deserted schoolyard into a glittering wonderland. It was quiet as they stood there together; the snow absorbed any ambient noise from the road beyond the schoolyard.
A year and a half was a long time. Kyla kept forgetting they'd been dating all this time. Sex was bound to happen at some point. Stan had been putting it off. Kyla wondered what had triggered the testosterone so suddenly, but decided she didn't want to know. A week ago she would have been all over him, poking and prodding and begging to know all the gory details. But now...everything seemed different, somehow.
"I don't regret it," Stan said after several minutes of deafening silence. "Not really. I'm just...I don't know. I don't feel any...different about her, or anything romantic like that, but I feel like now I have to...be with her more. You know? Spend more time with her. Be a good boyfriend. If I started distancing myself now...she'd get the wrong idea. You know what I mean?"
Kyla nodded, shivering slightly. She bunched her hands in her pockets and shrunk into the collar of her jacket. A red curl was touching her cheek continuously as the breeze carried it along. It was annoying, but she ignored it, and focused on the matter in front of her.
So Stan was no longer a virgin. Wow. She remembered back in fifth grade, when it had just been Kyla, Stan, Cartman and Kenny—no Wendy, no romance—the four of them had placed bets on who would lose their virginity first. Of course, Kenny had been first—they'd been right about that. Next would be Stan—right again. Third would be Cartman. She scowled. How pathetic it was that they'd all thought that fat ass would lose it before Kyla would. Was it just because of her religion, or was it...something more? Was she not sexually appealing? Okay, stupid question. All she had to do was say the word and Kenny would have her in bed in five seconds flat. She guessed that back then they'd all known each-other so well that they knew how she'd feel about it.
Anyway, there was still time to win her bet and lose it before Cartman. Who had ever said Cartman wasn't a virgin? They guy had never had anything close to a girlfriend.
She shook herself of the unpleasant thoughts and faced reality. It seemed like Stan was waiting for her to say something, so she just said, lamely, "Yeah, I see what you mean." Then she remembered what he'd said, and her face fell slowly.
Stan took a deep breath, finally getting to what he needed to say. "So I guess...what I'm trying to say is..." He looked her in the eye, and she saw just how much this pained him. "We can't hang out anymore."
Kyla opened her mouth, but words escaped her.
Stan continued breathlessly. "I talked to Wendy. I tried to get her to understand about us—but Kyla, I'm sorry. She just...she's been really upset with me lately, and I can understand why. I've been neglecting her." He buried his hands deeper in his pockets. When he spoke again, his voice was soft. "I really enjoyed spending time with you again, Ky. I missed it. I really did." She met his gaze and smiled softly. He returned it. "It was like the good old days again. Just you and me. And Kenny and Cartman, of course. And I promise, Ky...first opportunity I get to call you up, I will." He paused and then sighed roughly, kicking at the snow. "This is actually killing me."
"Stan." She put a hand on his arm. He froze. She spoke slowly and clearly, even though her insides were far from calm. "I can't do this anymore."
He looked at her, his eyes wide.
She continued firmly. "You're in a—serious relationship now, with Wendy. And Kenny and I...we're getting there. Maybe it's about time we realize...we accept..." Come on, Ky. Keep it together. "We're drifting apart, Stan." His mouth puckered as he dropped his gaze, shuffling his feet. She removed her hand from his arm, dropping it to her side dejectedly. "You know we are. We have been for a while. We're not kids anymore, Stan. It's not as easy as it used to be between us. Our genders, now, seem to matter more than it ever did before."
Stan's lip trembled. Kyla put a hand on his shoulder. "Stan?"
He shrugged her off and shuffled away, his shoulders hunched. She stood, frozen, watching him go. Then she ran after him, grabbing for his hand. "Stan."
He stopped, waiting.
"I wish..." For what? Fairness? Life doesn't come with that package, darling. "I wish it wasn't like this, Stan."
"I made a mistake, Ky," Stan said softly. "I'm sorry." He stepped out from her grip and walked away.
And this time, she let him go.
Ah, there. That's much better. See, the other way I had it was just silly. It was OOC, is was OTT (over the top), and didn't leave enough room for the next chapter. Sorry for the rewrite, but I was losing sleep over it lol.
Please review!
See ya in 2010!!!!