More background information on "Speechless": Originally back when writing the seventh or eighth chapter, I had the whole rest of the story played out in my mind, and this would originally be the last chapter, but around the tenth or eleventh or so I decided I had put it in the genre romance so I might as well add another chapter for all ya style fans. So, just remember, this could have possibly been the last chapter, but I also wanted to tie up some last things like "What does Bebe want to talk to Wendy about?" so that will be answered... next time. As for this chapter: secrets are discovered, feelings are realized, and—FINALLY!—happy endings are made. And just to piss you guys off to make you wait until it's revealed: by the end of the chapter, you WILL know who started the RUMOR~
Alright, I admit it. Friday when Kyle and I were in that ditch and I told him we'd run away to California I was only half serious, so I couldn't believe it when I found myself buying our tickets online the next morning. Sunday at two fifteen in the morning, only flight that day to San Francisco airport, I booked us a cab to the Denver airport and the only two seats left next to each other in first class. Normally I would just get us two seats away from each other but I needed to make sure Kyle was comfortable—and I'm sure being next to me promotes that—and the fact that it wasn't our money we were spending, so there was no guilt.
Saturday Kyle and I just spent together in his room packing his things, then went back over to my house later to get all of my stuff. The whole time neither of us said a word, but he was always just smiling over at me, especially when he thought I couldn't see. Maybe this was like how it was for Kenny and Butters after Ike and I prank called them. Butters tried ignoring Kenny, then amends were made and they were closer than ever. That… and they started dating.
Besides packing, we really didn't have anything else to do, I got on the iPad and got us a hotel room with my mom's credit card. That made me think of the fact that if our parents decide to cancel their cards we should carry some extra cash so I dug through my dad's underwear drawer, and sure enough, under his old briefs with I swear had to have at least twenty-thousand holes in them, found his secret cash stash and grabbed two thousand. One thousand for me, one thousand for Kyle. If my parents cancel their card, it should be enough to get us home, or at least fed for a year.
Before, late Friday night, we had stayed up all night talking about it, sitting on his bed in the dark, you know, just barely being able to make out each others faces. We agreed that no one was to know, not even Kenny or Butters, no one would know where we were, and to keep it that way, we both had to resist turning on our phones incase they traced them or something.
We talked that night for a long time, really late into the night. He was so relieved we were going, he was close to breaking down a few more times, just because, well, we were running away all the way to California together where we might actually never leave. That was a little bit of a scary part, of course I was willing to do it for him and his safety, but I don't think I could take an eternity of people smelling their own farts. Oh god, what if I start smelling my own farts? San Fran's can't really be like that, can they? Never in my life before had I ever heard of people smelling farts, none the less their own.
The point is, we talked for a long time, after there was a long silence, he looked so happy he would throw up, luckily he didn't. He just looked away from me for a minute to wipe his eyes and I hugged him. Then the conversation was over, I booked the flight in the morning, and all we had to do then was wait. That had to have been the hardest part, because not only was I anxious to not have to deal with Cartman, I wouldn't have to worry about Louis coming back either! We both didn't know anyone in San Fran, and there's enough to do there to keep us busy forever, I didn't think we'd have a problem.
I'm not really attached to my parents. I mean, I love them and all, but not enough to feel bad about leaving, or feel like I might miss them or something. Same went for the guys. They were my friends and all, but something told me I wouldn't be having emotional issues about leaving them behind either. I guess Kyle really was all I had all along, and I'm kind of glad. You know, I might not have everyone, but I have Kyle, and he's more than enough. So, saying that, I really shouldn't be feeling the need not to go as we grab clothes from my drawers and shove them in my bag… but I do. I don't know why, I just said I don't exactly give two shits about all the assholes I know, but something inside me made it hard to want to let go of South Park. I might never leave San Fran after we arrive, or maybe we'd just end up staying the night, but for some reason I didn't want to go.
Oh well, we had bought our tickets, so it was too late for that.
So, it was Saturday, we were just about done packing my clothes and stashing them in my closet so my parents wouldn't see, and Kyle was really starting to get fidgety. He kept running around looking at all my shelves for things we had missed, then insisted we go back to his house for a minute to pack his carryon because he forgot some things. I didn't mind, so we drove back over and he got his iPad which I later used to book our hotel, and the diary and some other stuff. Some books, his iPod—which I really didn't understand why he still had—and a turkey sandwich for when we got to the airport. After we went back to my place and hurried back up stairs so my parents wouldn't notice the bag he was carrying.
When we were safe from sight in my room, he threw the bag in with the others and flopped over onto my bed. Around that time it was about seven at night, my mom called us to dinner, and immediately after we retired to my room, got in bed, and fell asleep at around eight.
My alarm went off at midnight the next morning, October 23rd, I rolled over and shook Kyle awake who was amazingly still asleep.
"Dude, wake up! We have to get going!" I whispered loudly.
He opened his eyes sleepily looking at me, smiled, then sat up just to fall back down again against the pillow.
"Uhg," I groaned towards him then got up myself and went over to my drawers.
I opened them quickly, grabbing two pairs of jeans and threw one at Kyle, it landed on his face, he really didn't care. I got fully dressed, then he got up and did the same, I grabbed the three bags from the closet and Kyle got jackets and put his on as we walked quietly downstairs so to not wake my parents. It wasn't exactly necessary because they slept like the dead, but you can never be so sure. He gave me my jacket when I dropped the bags at the door then opened it for me and we went out to wait for the cab by the curb.
He didn't say a word as we sat there waiting, just looked over at me the whole time. Sometimes I'd look back over at him and he'd smile a little, so I would back. The cab eventually came, we hurried to throw in our bags and get in before my parents got the idea to look out their window and see us. When we got in and started off to the airport Kyle and I let out a collective sigh of relief. The hardest part was now over, all we had to do now was get on our flight and not crash—KNOCK ON WOOD. I looked around the cab a moment, nothing was made of wood, we're screwed.
Well, we made it to the airport without a scratch, so maybe I was just being over dramatic. I paid the cab driver and we dropped off our bags besides the carry on and went off to find the baggage-scanning thing. We got in line behind a few people and took off our shoes and stuff to put in those bins, he took his iPad from the bag and put it in there too and we slid the bin onto the conveyer belt. The people made us step through the scanner, when Kyle went through the alarm went off so they backed him up through it again and had him remove all other metal objets.
He looked over at me; 'I don't have any metal.' He signed.
"You're whistle." I suggested.
He took it off and handed it to the guy then proceeded to walk through and it didn't go off that time. Even after that they pulled us both over to one of those naked scanner things everyone had just put in. The ones that were on the news, I guess just because we were both pretty strong teenage boys they wanted to check if we were terrorists. I was first, the just had me stand in the middle with my arms extended and they started the scan.
It wasn't so bad, I didn't see exactly why people didn't like these things, they were just trying to protect people. Kyle refused to step in it for reasons I didn't know, so they just gave him the pat down. I was getting my shoes on with the bag on the other side of the scanner, when I was done I looked up at him, he was just looking over at me while the guy went down his left leg.
After, we went to find our departure lounge or whatever where Kyle ate his sandwich and I went off to find a Harbucks to get us some coffee and possibly a biscuit. I came back a minute later, we were actually at the airport, we were actually going on a plane to California, this was all happening. It was insane, and amazing at the same time, I mean, we could actually do this and get away with it! Right now at my house my parents were both probably asleep with no fathom this was happening. I gave him his cup then sat down next to him, I wondered how warm it would be in San Fran. Had to be warmer than South Park, I don't even think it snows there.
We were enjoying our coffee in silence, it seemed like we hadn't talked in a while. I guess it didn't really bother Kyle, I'm sure if I brought it up he'd say something like 'I'm not talking because I can't. Can't.' Oh well.
"Number 65 to San Francisco, your flight will be early. Thank you." The lady on the intercom said.
Kyle and I looked at each other, that was our plane. He smiled then went back to his sandwich. It wasn't much longer when they pulled the plane up to the building then called all of first class to board. I got up brushing myself off then helped up Kyle, I got the bag and he threw away the last of his sandwich and we got in line.
This was it, the moment we got on that plane we were not coming back. The lady checked our tickets and I followed Kyle over to the plane where we walked a few feet down the isle before he took his seat next to the window, row three. I hauled up the bag above my head and shoved it in the overhead compartment, ignoring the warning sign and everything, then closed it and sat down next to him.
'We're going to California!' He mouthed, he was smiling widely.
We watched as all the other passengers filed onto the plane and made their way past us. Kyle and I made a little game of ranking people of their "Could be a Terrorist" quotient, 1 to 10, 10 being the highest.
Many people walked by giving us looks as we signed to each other eyeing them up and down, there was this one really big guy with a beard we ranked as a 10, he glared at us then actually signed back, 'Fucking teenagers.' Kyle and I looked at each other; we stopped playing after that.
When the last of the people had gotten on and they closed the door, the pilot came on the intercom, "Hello, this is Stacy Caplin, I am your pilot this fine morning, it is currently clear in beautiful San Francisco, we should be there in about three hours. In the meantime, please, sit back, relax, and enjoy free beverages and breakfast. We will be showing an in-flight movie; Toy Story 3. Headphones are three dollars or you can use your own, thank you."
"Toy Story 3?" I said looking over at Kyle, he just shrugged.
The seat belt sign came on, so we buckled up and that safety video came on. There was this one really loud kid across the isle from me complaining to his older sister about how he wanted the window, yeah, this was going to be a long flight.
Eventually, after what had to be an eternity, the plane started moving away from the terminal and we were off to the runway.
'Dude, I hate takeoffs.' Kyle mouthed looking back at me as I tried to see over him out the window.
"Really? Not me." I said not exactly paying attention.
I looked over at him a minute, he was glaring at me then offered me his hand. I laughed once then took it and he went back to looking out the window. We were waiting in line behind around five other planes for the runway, while we were sitting there Kyle just randomly squeezed my hand, so I squeezed back. That led to the pattern of both of us just doing it quickly one after the other until Kyle and I were literally trying to cut off each other's circulation to the fingers. I swear if I hadn't have pulled out yelling "Holy shit! That fucking hurt!" it would have popped like Justin Bieber's head. Of course, that made all the people around us glare at me and Kyle had to cover my mouth to keep me from yelling out more profanities.
The kid sitting across the isle from me was now smiling widely and his sister had her palm to her face shaking her head towards the ground.
'Stan! The hell!' Kyle mouthed when I had turned back to him. 'You want to get us thrown off the plane?'
The sudden roar of the engines getting ready to race off down the runway we were now sitting at the end of gave him the answer that it was too late for anyone to be throw off, crap that terrorist sign language guy was seriously going to kill us all now. Fuck and I still hadn't knocked on any wood! Now I was actually hoping I might get thrown off.
Feeling the plane starting to jerk forward down the runway made Kyle immediately grab my hand again and look out the window as we left planet earth behind and went off to live in the sky for the next three hours or so. The second we were up in the air and the pilot came on telling us we could use our electronics—save cellphones and laptops—he sighed letting go of my hand and dug through his pockets looking for his iPod.
A while later after listening to his McDreidel albums they started the movie so he turned off the iPod, put it away, and plugged the headphones into the armrest jack. The kid across from me was quiet during the movie, he was watching too. Just a little after the credits rolled the pilot came back on telling us we were going to be landing soon.
I looked over at Kyle after the intercom had been turned off; he was looking up at the ceiling as the "fasten your seat belts light" was turned on.
"You need me told hold your hand again, dear?" I asked jokingly.
His eyes narrowed as they tore away from the light, 'Shut up, and yes, you do.'
I didn't like landings. Your ears hurt, you couldn't hear, and then when you touched down everything and everyone turned to Jell-O. When we were loosing altitude though, Kyle took out a pack of 5 gum, tropical flavor and handed me a stick. Chewing it as we fell helped a lot with the pressure, but I nearly choked on it once we hit the ground, it was a very loud "BANG!" accompanied by a sudden jolt and some banging above Kyle's and my head; not the gracefulest landing I had experienced. Once we had slowed down though, everyone turned back to normal—impatient and wanting to get the hell out of their seats—but we still had to pull up to the San Francisco terminal and wait a minute before Stacy Caplin turned off the seat belt sign. Then it was a race to get out.
Kyle was up before me, and as I fiddled with my seat belt, he got out into the isle and helped me. The second I was free he pulled me from my seat and I opened the overhead compartment quickly as the anxious people behind us tapped their feet waiting. The second that door was open though, Kyle's bag fell out opening itself spilling Kyle's junk all over the isle. The people behind us all groaned and we let them all by before proceeding to clean up our mess.
We both got on all fours, luckily in first class the isle was wide enough for both of us. Kyle was shoving some of his stuff back into his bag; I was taking care of his books and staking them next to me carefully. I was on the last one, it was the diary. It had fallen page open towards me; it was a diary entry from not too long ago. I picked it up slowly and closed it putting it on top of the pile, but not before glancing at the page, I only caught a few random words before I closed it: bricks, football, rumor, Stan, in love, fat ass, and true.
I didn't give any of it much thought, but as I looked back over at the rest of the stuff laid out over the isle, where the diary was there was a little crumpled green post-it note. I looked back over at Kyle, he was busy with something, so when I was sure he wouldn't see I snatched it up and shoved it in my pocket. Not too much later we were done and left the plane to go to the baggage claim where we got our other bags, then took the bus over to the rental car area and got a big black truck, kind of like mine I had back in South Park. We dumped the luggage in the back seats and I got behind the wheel with him riding shotgun.
"What do you want to do now?" I asked looking over at the clock. "It's still pretty early, we could wait until the cable car museum opens, or we could go to the Japanese tea garden or something. It's only like, five in the morning."
'Let's just check into the hotel.' Kyle mouthed looking straight out the windshield.
I leaned back in my seat still watching him, "Uh, alright, if you want to."
San Fran was actually kind of nice, there was no one out on the streets so early in the morning, but I didn't really get why Cartman hated it. And, there weren't as many hobos there as I had expected there to be, that, or they were all sleeping in trashcans or something.
Eventually I found our hotel, it was a pretty tall building, not around many other tall buildings, from the front it looked like it was entirely made of glass windows. I parked the car in the parking lot, then Kyle and I hurried inside to the lobby where I checked us in and got out key, it was more of a card actually. Eleventh floor, room seven. We stood quietly in the elevator all eleven floors, when we reached ours, Kyle ran out down the hall caring only his bag, leaving me to trail behind with the other two. He let himself in when he found our room, when I caught up I dropped our bags by the door closing it behind me.
"Oh my god." I said looking over the room; two beds, a small kitchen, a bathroom, a closet, a TV hanging up on the wall, and a balcony. They never said anything about a balcony, no wonder this place was so expensive. "Dude, did you see this?" I asked running over to it, Kyle came out of the kitchen and followed me as I opened the door and stepped out into the cold wind and ran over to the railing to look over. "Shit, Kyle, we're up really high!"
I looked back at him to see him roll his eyes as the wind blew his hair all over his face, 'Well, it is the eleventh floor.' He signed.
The air blowing against us wasn't nearly as cold as the winds we had in South Park, so we were immune as it pushed against us all the way up there. Kyle walked over next to me leaning forward over the railing looking straight ahead at the city before us. I watched him as his eyes traced over every skyscraper he could see, then as he got to the end of the city looking from right to left, his eyes locked with mine. I didn't feel the wind, I didn't see the city, and I didn't hear the police siren quietly going off in the distance, I was focused on Kyle, something was happening. He was concentrating below my eyes, arguing in his mind about something, for some reason, I just felt like we were getting closer or something. That feeling was turned off the second he tore his gaze from me and looked down at his hands that were gripping each other resting on top of the railing. Whatever it was he was thinking about, he wasn't going to tell me so I just patted his back then went back inside.
I really wanted to go out and do something that day, but Kyle didn't leave the balcony. Around eight or something, I turned off the TV and went out to tell him I was going to go out for a while, and that he could come with if he wanted. He signed a simple 'OK', then went back to gazing out over at the city.
I didn't get it, he was so happy before, we had gotten away from Cartman, we had ran away to San Fran together, but he was still upset about something. Obviously I had to do something about this, but as I went down elevator back to the first floor, I thought, maybe, this time it was something he was supposed to work out on his own. He'd have plenty of time to do that while I was out exploring the city.
I didn't get too far, mainly because I didn't want to take too much time getting back to the hotel, but also because I had never been to California, not to mention San Fran before, so I had no idea where I was going and didn't want to get lost. I was going down some street, it was probably two by then, I swear they had at least one Harbucks on each corner, not to mention tons of Jen & Berry's. That was when I spotted the little knickknack store.
I let myself in, by the door was an arranged assortment of San Fran snowglobes, I walked past those, over to the section I had seen in the window. There was a collection of little golden whistles on little silver chains. My thoughts: I HAVE TO GET ONE FOR KYLE. I grabbed—in my opinion—the shiniest one there and bought it. I was leaving the store; I shoved it into my pocket and was about to start walking again, when I felt something in there besides it. I pulled out whatever it was, it was a crumpled up little green post-it with some writing on it.
I flattened the thing out the best I could then read it silently to myself.
'Sure dude, you can tell me.' It said on one side in my handwriting.
I flipped the post-it over, definitely Kyle's handwriting on the back, 'I'm gay, the rumor was true, I love you.'
I stood there a second frozen looking at it; it all kind of made sense now—kind of. I dropped it purposely, then looked up over at our hotel building I could see was probably only a few blocks away. Top floor on the balcony, I thought I could just barely make out Kyle still standing there. That's why he was kind of upset. I needed to call him and talk about this. I had my cellphone in my hands a second later, the second after turning it on I flipped it closed and shoved it back into my other pocket, I couldn't call him about this, I couldn't even talk to him about this! If he wanted me to know, he would have told me, and after he tried to tell me and it failed if he still wanted me to know he would have told me again.
I just had to go back to the hotel and wait it out.
When I got back to the hotel room Kyle was coming back in from the balcony, so, for some unexplainable reason, I hid in the bathroom. Nice one, Marsh, I didn't know by "waiting it out" you meant this. But, really, what else was I supposed to do? Go in there and say, "Hey, I know you have a thing for me, maybe this should have been something we could have talked about before we ran away together?" To tell you the truth, I don't think I actually care. I mean, he loves me—and not in the platonic way—and I don't really mind. Actually, it kind of felt… nice to be admired. Of all the people I know, I was kind of glad it was Kyle, because, well, if it were any of the other guys I would have probably ripped their nuts off, including Kenny.
I was about to leave the bathroom, but speak of the devil; my phone went off. Big surprise—it was Kenny.
I groaned looking at my caller ID, I wasn't in the mood, but I still didn't really want to be a dick, so I picked up, "What?"
"Dude, Stan, where are you! Everyone's looking for you and Kyle! No one has seen you since yesterday, what the hell is going on?" He yelled frantically.
"Now you care?" I asked bitterly.
"Stan, we don't have time for this, your parents are freaking out, people are scared, and everyone's asking questions! Now where the hell are you and Kyle!"
I sat up on the counter, "You're a real asshole, you know that right?"
"Do I have to repeat myself? WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU! Some people think you're dead, you know that right?" He yelled making me pull the phone away for a second. "Where are you!"
"You really are a fucking selfish dick." I seethed. "Is that all the matters to you? 'Where are we'? You don't care enough to ask me if I'm alright or why Kyle and I left? You don't care about us, you don't care about Kyle, all you care about is your stupid ass boyfriend!"
I heard him sigh, "Stan, I'm sorry, is Kyle there? Can I Morse him?"
I groaned looking over at the bathroom door, "He's busy." I lied.
"Then I'll just talk to you, Stan, what's up? Why did you leave?" He asked now that he was finally calmed down.
"That doesn't concern you, it's between me and Kyle, and I don't think he'd want you to know." I said narrowing my eyes.
"Stan, dude, you can tell me, you, Kyle, and I have always been best friends, we were always together, you can talk to me about it. It'll always be us three, please Stan."
I practically blew up then, "You're not our friend, you haven't been our friend since the moment he woke up! Even before that when the rumor was going around, you were never there for him like I was! You didn't care then, you didn't care when he was in a coma, and you don't care now! You're not our friend, I don't know you."
There was a long pause, then he sighed a long, sad sigh.
"Stan, please don't talk to me about the rumor, it's not relevant anymore—"
"NOT RELEVANT!" I yelled cutting him off. "Not relevant! You've got to be kidding me! Not relevant!" I laughed a bit, I'm pretty sure that alone freaked him out enough, so I continued. "It's the reason for all of this! That rumor was the reason Kyle was alone at the Synagogue, it was the reason Trent went after him! The reason he was in a coma, the reason he's mute, the reason all the kids at school gave him shit! It's the reason he was almost killed, and the reason he almost committed suicide! It's the reason I gave up my home and everything I had to make sure he'd be okay! It's that fucking rumor's entire fault for everything! It's the reason he was too afraid to tell me he's in love with me because Cartman would murder him!"
"He told you?" Kenny asked, he sounded seriously surprised.
"No! He didn't! I had to find out myself, that rumor screwed up his life beyond repair, just three fucking words and his whole life was ruined!" I yelled, it was a good thing the door was closed or Kyle might have heard me scream his secret to the world. "I swear, Kenny, if I ever find out who started that rumor… I'm going Chuck Norris on them!" I screamed at him.
"Stan…" Kenny said so low it was almost a whisper. "I… I know who started the rumor."
I froze there for a moment, he knew? For how long? Why the hell didn't he ever tell me this before?
"Kenny, you know?" I asked after calming myself down. "How long have you known? Who was it?"
He sighed, "I always knew… they're a friend of ours… you have to understand though, I didn't tell you because I knew you'd kill them if you found out, but you can't be angry at them! …Trust me, if they knew what was going to happen to Kyle, they never would have said a word. You just have to understand…"
"Kenny… who is it?" I asked, he was silent. "Kenny, come on, please tell me, I need to know."
"Why!" He suddenly yelled. "So you can take out all your anger on them? What the hell is wrong with you!"
"What's wrong with me? What's wrong with me! They probably deserve it, do you have any idea what they put Kyle through?"
"Well… I…" He said trailing off.
"DO YOU! I'M GOING TO KILL THEM, I SWEAR, THEIR BLOOD WILL BE SMEARED ALL OVER THE SCHOOL GYM WALLS! I DON'T CARE WHO IT IS, THEY CAN'T GET AWAY WITH IT!"
"I DID IT!" He yelled over me making me freeze again.
"…W-what?"
"I started the rumor, alright? I did it!" There was a pause. "I… I had no idea it would get that bad… I just thought…"
I had to talk to keep myself from gasping continuously, "You just thought what? That no one would mind? That everyone would congratulate me? Everyone would be so happy for us? The two gayest little friends in South Park, now one of them finally realized there feelings, is that what you thought would happen? This is the really world! It doesn't work that way!"
"I was just trying to get you two together…"
I laughed then, I laughed a crazy laugh trying to keep myself from crying at the same time, "That really backfired, didn't it?"
"Stan, please, just…"
"Just what? Are you happy? You go to sleep every night in you comfy little bed in your outrageously huge house thinking about how horrible life is for Kyle all because of you, and are you happy? You have your boyfriend; you have the guys, are you happy!"
"NO!"
"GOOD!" I screamed back. "I can't believe… of all the people… this is lower than Cartman…" I paused. "You're dead to me. Don't call this number back."
With that, I hung up the phone and looked at myself in the mirror. I didn't remember crying as much as I had, there were tears still running down my face. I… I had to tell Kyle.
I walked out of the room, Kyle out on the balcony again looking at the city, I let myself out to him and stood next to him for the longest time before saying, "Kyle, I know who started the rumor."
By then the wind had stopped blowing and it wasn't cold, he got up and turned around to look me in the eyes, 'You know?'
He didn't look very happy to hear, he was kind of apathetic, anyway, I went on to tell him, "Kyle, Kenny started the rumor. I was talking to him on the phone and… he told me. Kenny started the rumor."
Kyle just turned back away from me to look back out over the city again, 'Yeah, I know.' He mouthed.
"Wait, what?" I asked running up closer to him to get him to mouth it again.
'I said I know.' He signed looking back at me. 'I always knew.'
With that, he left me on the balcony and went inside locking himself in the bathroom with his iPad, probably going to go learn new sign language words or something, I didn't follow him. He knew Kenny had started the rumor. He knew the whole time. I walked back into the room and plopped down on my bed to think some more. I hated Kenny. I hated him with all that I was. He was never there for Kyle in the hospital, he didn't think he was going to live, he never visited him, he never took the time to learn sign language, he never put up with taking him to lessons, and he sent all his time trying to help Kyle when he had his meltdowns. He wasn't there for him when he came back to school and all the kids gave him shit, he just stood there when Cartman tried to kill him the first time, and he didn't give up everything to run away with him to save his life! He didn't care enough to do any of that stuff when I did, and some how he was still our best friend!
I calmed myself down a minute, he was our best friend and wouldn't do anything for us because that's all we were; best friends, and we all had lots of best friends. Hell, even on some crazy low level Cartman was still our best friend, but no way in hell would I do all that for him.
I bet Kenny would do all that for Butters. But, I can't compare Kyle and I to them, they're in love, or, at least I think they are. He would never do all that shit for Kyle or I because all we were was friends, so why would I do it all for Kyle? All we were was friends, super best friends I'll add, but in the grand scheme of things they're the same, so what made us special? I know if it were me, if I were in a coma and lost my voice Kyle wouldn't hesitate to save my life and book the first flight out of South Park for me, but maybe that was because he was in love with me.
Because he was in love with me, I kind of repeated it in my head a second time. I spent two and a half years waiting next to him at the hospital, I spent every waking moment with him when he woke up, I learned sign language, I took him to his lessons even though it meant being raped by Louis. I was there for him when the kids picked on him for being mute, secretly gay, then being out, and I saved him from being beaten, killed, and committing suicide. I started new lives for us in San Fran leaving everyone behind. I was okay with him being gay, and I was okay when I found out he was in love with me. There were only two possible explanations:
1. I was fucking ballistic and high the whole time it all happened
or
2. I was fucking in love with my best friend.
Yeah, probably the second one.
Apon my amazing discovery, I shocked myself so much I accidentally yelled "HOLY FUCK!" out loud, making Kyle run out of the bathroom.
'What? What's going on?' He mouthed looking around the room frantically, I swear I felt my stomach churning violently: yup, definitely the second one.
"Oh, uh, nothing, I just… scared myself." I said scratching the back of my neck looking down and to the side.
'Uh, alright.' He said smiling, then left out to the balcony again, I swear, what the hell was it with him and that balcony?
Holy shit, I really loved him. About fifteen or so years it took me to figure that out, man was I slow. I had to do something, definitely waiting around any longer for him to confess to me was going to be pure hell, there had to be some way I could go about talking to him about it, I mean, I liked him, he liked me, doesn't that mean we should be together by now or what? As much as it pained me to do, I had to call Kenny, because, really, who else was I supposed to talk to about this.
I punched in his number, I wasn't so angry now, so maybe we could work something out.
"Stan?" He asked, it sounded like he was really sorry for earlier.
"Uh, hi Kenny, I'm… sorry I yelled at you, I need some advice." I said looking over at Kyle through the glass door.
"Oh, what about?"
I looked around a minute, "Well, about Kyle, I mean… I really like Kyle, but I'm not really sure what I should say to him."
"Oh, so is this about getting him out on a date, or getting him in bed?" He asked automatically in a better mood.
I laughed, "No one can stay mad at you Kenny, I swear, especially me."
"Woe, woe, woe, I thought you just said you like Kyle, I got a boyfriend, thank you."
I smiled, "How do I get him to confess to me?"
There was a pause, "Really? That's what you want my help on? I'm more of a gives ideas of sex position are best to use kind of guy, you might want to go to Craig on that one."
"Are you maybe hinting something about Craig's sexuality?" I asked trying to hold back a chuckle.
"He did kiss you, didn't he?"
"Hey, how do you remember that?"
"I know people, anyway, the thing is, you really don't need to ask anyone about getting him to tell you, it's pretty easy to come up with a few ways on your own, you know." He said.
I raised an eyebrow, "Really? Now if it's so easy, you come up with an idea."
"Oh, here's a good one: ask him!"
"Ask him if he's in love with me? Dude, I could have came up with that!"
"Exactly! And no, you have to be more subtle than that, you have to ask him something like, 'Hey, is there something on your mind?' or 'You look like you're really thinking hard about something, wanna tell me?'."
"Dude, you're a genius, thank you!" I sighed smiling.
"Yeah, I try, now what are you doing still talking to me? Got get him!"
"Alright, I'll talk to you later Kenny, I'll tell you what happens, bye."
"Bye." He said, then I hung up.
I put down my phone on my bed and sneaked over to the door, it was probably nine now or something, it was dark in the sky and the city was all lit up. The wind had come up again, blowing it lightly around my face as I closed the door loudly behind me making Kyle look over his should back at me and smile. I walked over next to him and looked out over San Fran with him, it was really neat, we could see the Golden Gate Bridge in the distance to the very right.
"Hey Kyle, I'm glad we came out here together." I said starting a conversation.
'Yeah.' He mouthed still smiling.
I pulled on his shoulder making him turn towards me, "Dude, you learn any new signs when you were in the bathroom with the iPad?" I asked.
'A few.' He mouthed looking down at him feet.
"That's cool." I looked back at the city again, then at him. "You spend a lot of time out here, why?"
'Oh, you know, thinking about stuff, about people, you know.' He signed.
I turned over to him again, he did the same looking at me, there was a long pause of us just staring at each other, "Kyle, is there something you wanted to tell me?"
He looked away a second biting his lower lip, then looked back up at me holding up his hand forming a single symbol. It was like "Y" but his first finger was also up, like those signs people make in the crowds of rock concerts as they headbang to the music, his palm was facing me.
I laughed a second looking at his hand, it was obviously a new word he had learned, "What does that mean?"
He straightened himself so we were eye level with each other and he stared directly at me, I didn't feel the wind, I didn't see the city, and I didn't hear the police siren quietly going off in the distance, I was focused on Kyle.
He smiled slightly giving me all his attention the mouthed three words slow and clear, 'I love you.'
I smiled wider and mouthed back, because, really, what else could I do?
'I love you too.'