South Park © Matt & Trey.

Kyle –

God dammit.

I think I sent Stan running in the other direction. I shouldn't have kissed him.

I wonder if he expected it after I confessed. He knew I was gay – he was the first person I told. I was crying by the time I had finally got the words out. We were thirteen and Stan was known to be mildly awkward with that sort of thing. I thought he was going to hate me and drop me as a friend, but he didn't… Well, not yet he didn't. He just shrugged and said, "Dude, it's cool – nothing to cry about." Then he gave me a hug to show that he wasn't going to be scared of touching me.

I told Kenny a few weeks later, but he said he already knew. That didn't surprise me… what did surprise me is the fact that Cartman also knew. It surprised me further when he didn't threaten to tell the entire world about it.

Cartman…

Now Stan knows about him, too.

Goddammit, I feel like shit.

I don't know how the whole thing with Cartman started. It just one of those things that kind of happened. That's all there really is to it.

It was after Stan ditched me, and I didn't have anyone else in the class to pair up with for some stupid project. I ended up with Cartman and we were up in his room trying to get it finished. He wasn't cooperating and we were arguing. It was all fairly typical of us until the insults moved to a sexual direction.

"You desperately need to get laid," he droned on. "Too bad Kinny wasn't still around. I'm sure he would've pity fucked you, being the whore he was."

"Tsk, Cartman, come on!" I raised my voice. "Don't say shit like that!"

"Just kidding, just kidding," he said defensively. "Jesus Christ, calm down, Jew."

"Calm down?" I growled. "Don't badmouth him!"

"Ah, whatever," Cartman rolled his eyes.

"Besides, I can get laid if I want to," I hissed quietly. "I don't need anyone's pity fuck."

"Sure, Kahl, sure… but Kinny wouldn't care about a few jokes at his expense," he continued. "I can guarantee you that."

"No, you can't! You can't possibly know that!" I shouted.

"Sure, I can. Deep down, you know it, too. He'd want us to take things lightly and not be so fucking miserable... and c'mon, let's be real for a sec, Kinny was on top of anyone who showed an interest."

"That doesn't make him a whore…" I insisted.

"Ah, fuck off with that social justice shit, Kahl," Cartman said. "People won't ever stop calling people sluts, hos, whores, fags…"

"But they should," I snapped.

"But they won't!"

"Doesn't make it right."

"Ugh!" Cartman shook his head at me. "You're annoying. And a virgin."

I raised an eyebrow, "How does that make me annoying?"

"Because," he started, waving his arms around, "you need someone to remove the stick from your ass."

I felt my eyes narrow as I wondered where he was going with that comment. "What the fuck do you mean?"

He grinned, leaning in to whisper, "Bet you want it to be Stan, eh? I bet you want him to remove the stick and replace it with… something else."

I didn't know he even knew about my interest in Stan, but I guess he did and that's how he knew I was gay.

"Stop…" I mumbled.

He just grinned even wider. "Too bad Stan's with Wendy."

So, one thing lead to another. I guess the only reason he was able to make his move is because I was already down for the count and feeling like shit. I really didn't want to be forced to think about Stan, and Cartman was offering himself up as a distraction.

Anyway. I can't say I regret it, because I keep doing it…

Stan and I don't talk for the next few days and now it's Friday. That's okay… He probably feels bad about cheating on Wendy. Shit, I feel bad about it, too. I should have controlled myself.

"Are you coming tonight?" Butters asks me as we exit the building after school.

"Where?"

"To Bebe's."

"What's going on at Bebe's?"

"She's throwin' a party."

"Oh," I wrinkle my nose. "I'm not in the partying kind of mood. I'd probably just get too drunk like always and start crying and puking."

Butters gives me a sympathetic look. "Aw, well, would yah maybe come if I keep an eye on you?"

"I'll think about it."

He smiles, and changes the subject – mindlessly chattering about school and his long-time girlfriend, Lexus. Yup, our Butters is dating a Raisin's girl and a lot of guys are actually pretty jealous of him because of it.

I nod along to what he says, pretending to listen and take an interest. After minutes of doing this, Cartman pulls up in his car. "B-Butts, Jew, get in," he says after rolling down the window.

I let out a long and dramatic sigh.

"Here, Kyle, you can have the passenger seat," Butters offers me before hopping in the back.

"Awesome," I mumble, getting in the car.

"What's good?" Cartman asks once we're all settled.

"Kyle doesn't want to come to Bebe's party."

"Why the hell not?"

"Because," I start, "I know I won't have fun."

"I'll buy you alcohol," he offers as compensation. "Then you'll have fun."

"That's another reason I don't want to go," I mumble and he chortles at that. Cartman has had to drag my drunk ass home on a few occasions in the past. "How are you even able to buy alcohol?" I ask. "We're only seventeen."

"Fake ID, bitch."

"I'm not your bitch."

"Sometimes you are."

"Tsk, shut up!" I wrinkle my nose at him.

Butters laughs nervously from the back seat, not wanting us to start having yet another argument. I don't know why Butters even tries to stop them anymore. The fights are inevitable.

"How did you find Garrison's quiz earlier today, Kyle?"

"It went well," I say. "How'd you find it?"

"I think I did all right!"

"That's good."

Hopefully Stan found it all right, too.

"Did you have any tests recently, Eric?" Butters asks.

"Yeah," Cartman says.

"How did you do?"

"Well, I passed."

"You passed?" I ask, "As in, what, you got a 51, or perhaps an even 50?"

"No," he sighs, "for your information, Kahl, I got a 69." He then snickers immaturely.

"Well," I say, "that is a lot better than I thought. It's almost a B minus."

"Yeah, I'm not dumb… just lazy."

"I'm surprised you can admit that," I laugh.

"See, fellas," Butters says, "it isn't too hard for you to get along!"

I can't help but roll my eyes. This is hardly getting along.

I'm not sure how the grading system is in American schools haha, but where I live a 70 is a B- so that's just what I'm going by.