Okay people well school starts tomorrow and I am dreading it. I'll try my hardest to get chapters up as often as possible, but I can only be on the computer for two hours a day once school starts. I hope I can do it!! Thanks for all the reviews everybody: each one gives me a warm fuzzy feeling inside!

"Okay, so I'm thinking that we should use black paper as the background and then border the text with red, and oh! We need a creepy font for the title; we should go on Word and check out what they've got.... Okay so my stuff will go here and yours can go here, but we'll have to see how much you write.... Oh, look at that! My stuff fits perfectly! Awesome! Hand me the glue, please? Thanks. Okay...there! Perfect! What do you think, Kyla?"

Kyla pushed herself onto her elbows and peered at the poster. The typed paragraphs were spaced out evenly on the black poster board, framed with red construction paper. They fit perfectly in the space provided, as if Wendy had already tried it out and cut and pasted so that they all fit. "It looks good," Kyla murmured. She lowered her head back down to her arms.

The two girls were lying on the floor of Wendy's spacious bedroom. Wendy was busy cutting and pasting, humming a cheery tune with perky vibrato that pissed Kyla off. Kyla had her laptop propped open in front of her, but she couldn't bring herself to put her fingers to the keyboard. Her brain was fried. The day had been long and tiresome. She had expected her first day back to reality to be that way. She hadn't expected, however, to be stuck at her best friend's girlfriend's house writing some stupid report that was due two days from now.

The door swung open and Wendy's older sister, Tara, came barging in, eyes on the screen of her keyboard cell phone. "I got the stuff you needed," Tara called in, tossing a plastic bag at Wendy. "Make sure Mom doesn't see that shit, or she'll flip her lid." She closed the door.

Neither of the girls heard Tara's last comment. They were both staring at what had just spilled out of the bag.

A box.

A regular cardboard box.

A little pink cardboard box that contained a pregnancy test.

Wendy gasped and grabbed for it, shoving it back in the bag. Her cheeks were burning pink. She stuffed the bag under her bed and sat quietly, her hands in her lap. Neither girl said anything for a very, very long time.

Finally, Kyla let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. "Wendy," she said, looking at the other girl with wide eyes. "Are you..."

"I don't know!" Wendy cried suddenly, tears flooding her eyes. "Oh, I don't know! I've been throwing up every morning, but I'm not sure if it's just a flu or if I'm..." She trailed off as she tried to blink back her tears. She was silent for a moment while she composed herself, and then she said, quietly, "I'm gonna take it now. Will you...I mean...will you stay with me?"

Kyla felt like she was suffocating. Dying. She stared at the wall above Wendy's head, trying to find her brain, and thus her voice. "Of c-course..." she said slowly, bringing her eyes down to meet Wendy's.

"Oh, thank you, Kyla. You're the b-best." Wendy snatched up the plastic bag and charged into her private bathroom, closing the door behind her with a snap. Kyla could hear her sobbing from where she lay on the floor, frozen in horror.

No. No. No, no, no, no, no, no, NO! Wendy couldn't be pregnant! Because that meant she had slept with Stan again, recently. How long ago had that party been? Three weeks? It wasn't like Stan kept Kyla in the loop about his sex life anymore. Who knew how many times they'd done it since then? Stanley Marsh...father of Wendy Testaburger's child...never to be the same ever again. Ruined for good.

Kyla got up and rushed at Wendy's bed, grabbing a pillow and stuffing it against her face to muffle her screams. Tears bubbled up in her eyes so fast her retinas burned. Oh, God, oh, God, oh GOD! PLEASE let it be a false alarm! PLEASE I'M BEGGING YOU! Oh, Lord, if you're up there...make it be a false alarm. Please.

Her silent prayers felt stupid and useless, considering Kyla hadn't spoken to God in years. But she needed someone to talk to, even if that someone happened to be someone whose existence was constantly questioned, and even if that someone was a bitch sometimes.

Kyla suddenly tossed the pillow away in disgust. Wendy and Stan might have had sex in this bed. She wanted nothing more than to leave this room, this house, this town...to just get the hell out of South Park and never come back. Go somewhere where all this crap wouldn't find her. Where thoughts of Stan wouldn't torture her and she wouldn't have to bear listening to their child laughing in their happy arms.

Okay, Kyla, get a grip. You don't even know for sure if Wendy is pregnant. And if she is, she's such a slut it might not even be Stan's! Calm down, you stupid bitch. Calm the hell down!

Kyla stood in the middle of the room, hugging herself so tightly she couldn't breathe properly.

God, how long did it take for that bitch to take a piss?

The door to the bathroom opened just as Kyla was thinking this and Wendy emerged, her face sticky with tears. She gave Kyla a watery smile and held up the pregnancy test. Kyla ran forth to look.

The single blue dash was the most beautiful thing Kyla had ever seen.

She let out a strangled sob and threw her arms around Wendy, who started to cry all over again. A thought struck Kyla as to why the hell she was hugging a girl she thought she hated, but she was too happy to care.

Thank you, God. Thank you.

*

But, as it is, God can pick and choose when it comes to being an asshole or being a saint.

It was five in the morning when Kyla's phone buzzed. She groaned and rolled over, trying to ignore it. It kept buzzing and buzzing, as if whoever the hell was calling her really needed to talk to her. She rolled back over and reached for her phone, sighing sleepily. She opened it and put it to her ear. "Hello?" she asked in a horrible groggy voice.

"Kyla!" The voice on the other side of the line was frantic. "Kyla, oh my God..."

Kyla pushed herself up onto her elbows, frowning slightly. "Whoa, whoa. Who is this?"

"It's Wendy," the girl wailed.

"Wendy?" How the hell did she get Kyla's number? "What's going on?"

"I woke up half an hour ago to throw up," Wendy cried.

Kyla groaned. TMI. "So?"

"I freaked out and took the other pregnancy test—there were two in the box—and, oh my God, Kyla, it was positive!"

Kyla sat bolt upright in bed, smacking her head on the dorm ceiling. She cursed and rubbed the soon-to-be goose egg. Her heart was racing a thousand miles per hour. "What?"

"I don't know! It was negative the first time, I know it! Maybe I did something wrong the first time! But this time it said positive! It had the little pink cross on it! Oh, my God, Kyla! I'm fucking pregnant!" She began to sob uncontrollably. She kept saying things, but Kyla couldn't understand her when she was sobbing like that.

Kyla's heart sank into the pit of her stomach where it began to congeal.

God, you fucking son of a bitch...

"That doesn't make sense," Kyla said quickly. "How can you be not pregnant and then twelve hours later be pregnant? That's stupid."

Wendy kept on crying, and then abruptly stopped. "Oh."

"Oh, what? What, dammit!"

"Oh, Ky...you're gonna think I'm the stupidest idiot in the world, but...the first time I didn't take the plastic off of the pee stick."

She was right. Kyla did think Wendy was the stupidest idiot in the world. "Oh, my God, Wendy."

"Oh, I'm such a stupid moron! Oh, my God. I'm pregnant. My mom is going to kill me!" She began shrieking sobs again.

"Well, if you don't want her to find out, stop screaming," Kyla snapped. "What do you want me to do about this?"

Wendy hiccoughed. "I just needed to tell someone."

Kyla sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Okay. But I don't know what to say, Wendy. What do you want me to say?"

"Tell me what to do!"

"You think I've been pregnant before? How am I supposed to know what to do?"

"I thought you were pregnant!"

"WHAT!"

"Well I heard that you got pregnant with Kenny's kid and aborted it," Wendy said sheepishly.

Kyla exhaled sharply, her hands balling into fists. The rage made her see red, but she fought for control. "That's the biggest load of crap I've ever heard. I've never been pregnant; I've never even had sex. So whatdya want me to do, Wendy!" The last bit was louder and harsher than she had intended, but the anger she felt towards whoever had started that rumour had taken over.

Wendy was sobbing all over again.

"Is it Stan's?" Kyla demanded slowly.

"What?"

"Is. It. Stan's!"

"I don't...know."

Kyla's breath hitched. "What!" she exclaimed for the third time that night. This was far worse, if possible, than finding out Stan was the father. So Wendy was a big whore. This was going to crush him. Maybe.

"Well, it c-can't be Stan's," Wendy moaned, as if realizing it for the first time. "We haven't had sex since...gosh, it's gotta have been three months now."

"Well, it's definitely not his if that's the case," Kyla said breathlessly. The pain in her heart was growing. But this time, the pain was for poor Stan. "Goddamn it, Wendy. I kind of hate you right now."

Wendy's sobs started again. Kyla sighed in exasperation, fighting back tears. The stupid bitch had Stanley Marsh. One of the kindest, sincerest souls in the world. She had everything, and she threw it all away. Threw Stan away as if he were just another bachelor. Oh, my God, that stupid, stupid cow. How could she do that to him? Kyla cried herself to sleep every night over that boy, and here was his girlfriend saying she'd slept with some other guy!

"Who's the father, Wendy?" Kyla spat, her voice dripping with venom.

Wendy hiccoughed, "I'm so sorry." And the line went dead.

Kyla cried harder than she ever had before.

Two chapters in one day! Sorry it's so short! It wasn't even more than 2,000 words! But I wanted to get it up before school started, and that seemed like an appropriate place to stop.

To Anonymous By Choice: I'm not entirely sure if that comment was meant to be negative or not...Also, they were piss drunk. They're not really gonna be thinking about morals or anything. And, dude, I'm in high school, I know how the dances are WITHOUT alcohol...I can only IMAGINE what they're like with it! LOL

Please review, they are welcomed!

We will find out the real father soon enough. ;-)