I was alerted to some of the spelling errors I've been making, and I'm very aware that I screw up every once and awhile, but forgive me? It's a small price to pay for daily updates right? It still makes sense, yes?

BROVFLOVSKI

"Stan…I love you too, man," I said calmly. I stared out the front windshield. We were almost to town. "So, next time you think about doing something dumb, just think about how it will affect the people who love you. Next time, call someone for help sooner."

He stared ahead, expressionless. "We…we should probably just leave the truck in farmer Baker's yard…this is his truck, right?"

"Yeah…" I replied. I was not done talking about this though…

I think Stan has a problem… He doesn't seem to take his simple importance very seriously. He seems to think that he has to always be a hero to keep people liking him. It really shouldn't matter, but it always gets him into situations.

It wouldn't bother me if it weren't for the fact that I usually the one who he saved, and then I had to feel like some sort of needy "damsel in distress" as Cartman called me. Why couldn't Stan just be a kid and be selfish? I know I'd told him not to be selfish, but by thinking he was dispensable, he was being selfish…ah, it doesn't make sense.

Anyway, I was sick of feeling like I couldn't handle myself. I tried to take control of situations, but he always stole the opportunity. I always just fucked things up and had to call for help…

After a long car ride of psychoanalyzing my best friend, I'd come to the conclusion that Stan has a hero complex. He's constantly in this perpetual cycle of feeling bored or unloved then trying to prove himself worthy through good deeds.

I realize that it would be hypocritical to say I don't feel the same. But, I think we all do… Stan's situation was only different because he has put me in a situation several times where I have to fear for his life because he won't do it for himself.

Ah, I'm tired of thinking. I turned on the radio as we entered South Park again. "So dude, did you kiss Wendy?" I said curiously.

"No…" he admitted. "I was on my way to do it when the fat sack of talking shit kidnapped me."

"Ohoho…I like that new name…I'll us it next time we talk to him…" I said happily. It was an exciting prospect to have new insults for Cartman just handed to me. Considering all the trouble he was causing me… The next time I saw him, he was getting kicked in the balls…

Stan laughed. "So, did you patch things up with Rebecca?"

"Yep. She promised to clear my name for me. It was surprisingly easy…" I said smiling.

He grinned. The streetlights illuminated his face with an orangeish glow that wavered every few seconds just to return completely as we drove under a new light. It was good to see him put back together so soon after the break up. I guess when your life is put in danger, you sort of put things into perspective…

He drove surprisingly well, but it wasn't like he'd never had practice. "So, I'm guessing that with this new look and your datability, you're going to have girls all over you…" he said supportively.

I frowned at him. "You know I'm not into the dating stuff… It's all superficial," I muttered, letting myself fall back into the chair and just sinking there. Why does he have to care about this stuff?

"I dunno…it might make you happy," Stan said.

I snorted, "Do I seem unhappy to you?"

He shrugged. "I'd guess you'd do whatever makes you happy, and I guess you know what that is," he said, smiling at me. I snorted again, damn right I know what makes me happy. "So…about this new look…?"

"Ah…don't even start, please," I begged. "It was my mom's idea. I only agreed to get contacts. She swindled me into the hair cut and clothes…"

"Well, it looks good," he said honestly. He swallowed thickly. "You look good…"

I snickered, punching him in the arm. "And, you call me the fag?"

He smiled awkwardly, pulling into farmer Baker's gravel driveway and pressing the brakes. He put the car in park and turned to me. "So, guess we're on foot from here?"

"Yeah…" I muttered. I got out of the car and replaced all the wires I'd fucked with. The car shut off. Stan was waiting, leaning against the side of the car when I shut the hood and walked around to the other side. "Let's go…" I said calmly.

It was about a mile through town to his house. Mine was just a bit further into the neighborhood. I let him borrow my coat since his had apparently been taken. I was wearing long sleeves anyway. I didn't mind the cold. It was better than sweating to death in the summer, and it had always given me an excuse to wear the hat that my mom hated so much.

We walked in silence. I contented myself to listening to the crunching of our feet in the snow. It was times like these when, we could get away without saying anything. There was a mutual pact to momentary silence, so it didn't feel awkward at all. I glanced at my watch. It was almost midnight already. Tomorrow was going to be another long day wasn't it?

We stopped at his front door and he reached under the mat for the key. "So," I began, breaking the pact, "how do you think your parents will react when they see you alive?" I spoke conversationally, wanting to keep him just a few more minutes.

He just shook his head, frowning in thought. "I hope they'll let the whole thing go. I really don't want to talk about it…especially not with them…"

There was a moment of awkward silence where the air went stale and it wasn't our usual relaxation with each other. I wanted to continue our earlier conversation, but apparently he didn't want to dredge it back up… I didn't know what kinds of terror he'd seen while he was trapped with the gang, but he needed to just suck it up, because I needed to tell him.

"Stan…next time you're going to get yourself killed, call me, okay?" I said. "I'm here for you…"

He glared at me. "I didn't want them to track my call and hunt you down!" he said, getting all defensive when I said that, trying to justify his actions. His theory was invalid. He didn't seem to realize that if he died, I would probably go soon after. I'd already proven unable to survive the world without his help. He continued, "It wasn't your fight and I didn't want to get you involved. I was just trying to prote-"

"I DON'T NEED PROTECTING!" I snapped harshly. His hurt expression immediately calmed me down. I sighed. "Stan, we're in this together, okay?" I concluded. "If it were me…I don't think you'd want me to leave my will behind as a voicemail on a phone."

His mouth opened, trying to protest, but he didn't have anything to say to that. He had no idea how much this was bothering me. How could he just give up so easily without even considering asking for my help? Didn't he trust me at all? Did he think that I couldn't save him if I tried?

"If you're in trouble, than there's a way that we can get out, you know that. How many times have we done this sort of thing? If you would've just called me, we could've made it sooner. You're lucky Kenny was able to get Jimbo's help…"

"You're right, I'm sorry," he said, half-assing an apology. I guess he had his reasons for not calling even if I didn't agree with them. He opened the front door and let himself inside, leaving me standing on his doorstep. I let it go. There wasn't anything else I could say.

When I got home, my dad and Ike were sitting in the living room, avidly watching the news. "Kyle Brovflovski!" my dad shouted as I stepped inside. I sighed, closing the door behind myself.

"So, you've seen the news… Am I in trouble?"

"You started a gang war? And, you got your mother involved?" he shouted, furious.

"How long am I grounded?" I said, begging him to just get to the point.

"I'll let your mother decide… But go to bed!" he said, trying to sound threatening. It was almost laughable. We both knew that mom was the disciplinary figure.

"Gladly…" I muttered. I was exhausted. My legs felt thick and heavy as I walked upstairs and tossed myself on my bed, not bothering to change.

I had pretty weird and completely unrelated nightmares. The first one was about being blind in my left eye, the second was about being eaten by a bear, and the last was about the return of the necronomicon. God…my brain's pretty fucked up right now.

I only got five hours of sleep, which to be truthful, wasn't that bad, but I didn't finish any of my homework. I guess my grades could spare a few zeros…

"Here, let me clean up those bruises, bubbi…" mom said as I walked into the kitchen, still wearing my glasses and rubbing my hair dry with a towel. It was too early to worry about bruises…

I sat down and ate my wheat cereal while she dabbed my face with an ice pack. She set an asprin next to my glass of milk, kissed my forehead, and left for work. I frowned, glaring down into my cereal.

Things always went back to normal so quickly in this fucked up little town. I packed up my backpack, slung it over my shoulder and continued my routine. I walked to the bus stop up the street and met up with Stan and Kenny.

Stan seemed pretty upset still. But, this time, I'd let him work it out on his own. Kenny yawned, making me yawn, and Stan followed. Why is yawning contagious? Maybe I should look it up… I searched it on my phone.

"Hm…" I muttered. "Kenny, I guess you own my soul, and I own Stan's…" I said, reading off the internet.

"What?" they said in groggy unison.

"Says that if someone yawns because you yawned, then you own their soul…" I turned to Stan. "I own your soul."

"Good for you…" he muttered. We need at least one person who's a morning person here. I mean, really.

"G'morning, faggots~!" a certain fat asshole said, waddling up to us from his side of the neighborhood.

I remembered last night's promise to myself and I stepped in front of him. "Fat sack of talking shit-" I grunted, lifting my leg and kicking him in the balls as hard as I could. I looked down to see another foot had joined mine in its endeavor. I turned; Stan was standing in the same position as me, his foot also rammed into Cartman's scrotum.

Kenny just giggled into his hood. "Double nutcracker~" he teased.

Cartman fell to the ground crying. I just turned my back, not caring when he tried to grab my leg and ask for help standing. The bus pulled up and we took all our usual seats. I glanced out the window, hugging my backpack in my lap.

"Here," Stan said to get my attention. I glanced over. He was holding out my orange coat. "I forgot to give it back yesterday."

"Thanks…"

And so, everything was normal again. Well, besides all the stares and gazes I received now. Was this what it was like for Stan? People had never found me attractive, so this was a new thing for me. I was sure Stan had gotten this kind of treatment all the time. I wasn't sure if I liked it.

I mean…I didn't like it when I got it, okay? It was just fine if people stared at him…

I decided to eat lunch with Rebecca. She hardly ever had anyone eat with her. I guess people were too afraid that she might rub off on them (in multiple ways). I set down my tray and sat tentatively, waiting to see how she'd react.

"Morning," she greeted through a mouthful of food.

"Ah…yea, good morning," I said nervously. I took a bite of my kosher roast beef sandwich.

She looked up at me as if she wanted to say something, but decided against it. She just chewed up whatever was in her mouth and swallowed. I glanced over at her, noting how skinny she was. Her cheek bones were poking out a bit and her fingers were thin. She was pale too.

"I see you got a haircut. It looks good," she complimented, stabbing a piece of potato off her tray.

"Ah…thanks," I said quietly. This was so awkward.

"…You don't have to eat with me if you don't want to," she said finally.

"I…do!" I reassured her, lying through my teeth.

"No you don't," she said smartly. "You're just eating with me because you feel like you need to be nice to me now since I helped you."

"That's not it!" I said defensively. "I just wanted to make sure you know that…um…" I dropped my voice. "There is a cure…"

"Yes, I know. But, you see, I don't have a hundred-thousand dollars," she snapped. I guess it was sort of obvious that she wouldn't…

"Well…I've got some rich friends; maybe I could call in a favor?" I offered.

She turned to me, smiling broadly, biting her lip. "Do you think it would work?" she said, eyes filling with hopeful tears.

"Well, all I can say is that I'll try…" I promised. She jumped up, tackling me with the tightest hug I'd ever experienced. I was thrown off my chair and we fell over onto the floor. The entire lunchroom went silent and everyone turned to stare.

"Thank you so much, Kyle! I love you!" she cried, tears flowing from her eyes onto my shoulder.

All I could think the entire time was "Oh my God…she's crying- …bodily fluids…keep away from me…keep away." I gently tried to pry her arms off without offending her.

"Get your diseased paws off him you bitch!" I heard a shrill voice squeal behind us. We both turned to see Red, Jennifer, Bebe, and Kelly all glaring down at us.

"Hey, seriously girls? You shouldn't talk to her like-" I began, but Kelly leaned over, ripping Rebecca off me. I was thankful to be free, but the moment I was, the cat-fight started.

I scrambled away, knowing that the police officers would come with the tazers…

-on the bus-

"It was crazy, dude!" Kenny said excitedly. "Rebecca was all over him and all the other girls were like 'He's mine bitch,' and Kyle's just kinda sitting there like 'What the hell…?' It was so funny! The whole lunchroom was watching!"

Stan just glanced at me to weight my reaction to the day's events. In truth, I found it all very tiring. Cartman was glaring at me, but what's out of the ordinary there?

Kenny sighed contentedly. "I told you the make-over was a good idea. You've got chicks fighting over you all over the place…" I swear; there was a hint of jealousy in his voice.

"If I had girls getting tazed because of me I'd be soooo happy," Craig said dreamily in the seat behind us.

"Shut up Craig!" Cartman snapped. "Nobody likes you!"

"No, fat lard, nobody likes you," he replied calmly.

"I'm not fat; I'm big-boned, you nasally little-"

"No Cartman," I interrupted calmly. "He's right. Nobody likes you…and you are fat…very very fat."

"I will get you Jew…I don't know what kind of pagan witchcraft you put the girls under in this school, but they're out of their minds to think you look any better than you did before."

"Just shut up, Cartman," Stan sighed.

"Seriously," Craig added behind us. "Quit being so jealous Cartman."

"Jealous of a Jew?" he snorted, turning in his seat as if the debate was won on that one little point.

Stan let his head fall onto the window dejectedly. I glanced over at him, feeling suddenly concerned. "Hey, what's wrong?" I said curiously.

"Just tired…" he lied.

I stared at him. It would make sense if he was tired, but for some reason, I had the impression it was much more than that. He had that kicked puppy appearance again. "Oh, God damnit…its Wendy isn't it?" I said, confidently.

"Not now, Kyle…" he muttered.

"Well, if it isn't her, than it must be your parents?" I pried. "How did they react?"

"They're fine, Kyle. Your mom drove them home and they're just a bit bruised. My dad was totally drunk and couldn't even remember last night. My mom was just glad to see that I was alright… It's all fine."

"Well…that's good. So, it must be Wendy then," I said, continuing to pry. He didn't seem to appreciate my curiosity as much as he should have.

He just glared at me. "Kyle, let it go. Not now," he said, body tensing noticeably.

The bus stopped at our stop and I had to stand and get off. The four of us filed down the stairs and watched the bus peel away from the stop. I didn't intend to let Stan's issue just slip past me. He'd never had an issue talking to me before. Why now?

We waved to Kenny as he turned into his driveway. It was just me and Stan again. I needed to know what his issue was. He waved to me lethargically as he turned into his driveway and walked to his front door. However, I waited a second until he turned around and I followed him, stopping the front door with my arm when he tried to close it.

"May…I come in?" I said politely.

Ah~ I feel so special. I love all your reviews :D

Internet was down on my laptop…I tried to fix the adapter, but our wifi is just being overpowered by one of our neighbors. I had to get a flashdrive to put this up on the home computer. P.S. to Kooly, thanks for the song, I love it XD Wrote this whole chapter listening to it. (over and over of course)