Okay, so first day of summer and I didn't sleep at all last night. I watched like four horror films before bed and I couldn't even turn off the light to go upstairs…I haven't been this messed up since middle school.

Anyway, allow me to explain a little bit.

Stan is very confused right now because he knows he wants Kyle, but he doesn't know if he's in love or what Kyle thinks of him. Kyle is just completely oblivious right now and really isn't attracted to Stan yet. He hasn't even noticed anything different besides Stan acting weird around him. Kyle would be much quicker to come to terms with his emotions if he had them. He just hasn't had any yet, but Stan will fix that guys…be patient.

Now that that's out of the way…

BROVFLOVSKI

"Ey! Fat fuck!" I shouted across the hallway. Cartman immediately understood who was calling him and he turned around. I walked over and met him halfway, hands shoved roughly in my pockets. I could tell this was going to be painful for my pride. I gulped, "I…never thanked you."

He grinned like an eel and waited for me to continue.

I took another dry swallow. While I was quite impressed by his actions, I would rather drink the liquid out a glow-stick and die before admitting that to his face. I winced, "Thanks for…um…using a condom…" I muttered.

"Ah, what?" he said as if he hadn't heard me the first time.

"I'm not repeating myself," I said coldly. "And you can stop telling people I've got AIDS…" I muttered, realizing how easily this conversation could be misinterpreted by some overhearing.

"But, you do. I'm just warning them all," he said innocently.

I sighed. I was at an impasse. If I told him that I indeed didn't have AIDS and the money he'd given to Rebecca had been used to cure her and not because she was a prostitute, then he wouldn't pay me anything for the plans that he'd stolen. He'd probably say I didn't need the money anyway and it would be pulling teeth to get him to do anything to help me.

But, if I didn't tell him, everyone in school would think I had AIDS. Which…shouldn't matter, but somehow it still bothered me.

"Alright…do what you want," I said calmly. He knew it was bothering me, so my giving him permission wasn't going to deter him or anything. If anything, he'd just justify himself using my permission.

He frowned at my response, but shrugged it off. "Well…I guess that's no fun," he said. I highly doubted that would stop him from spreading the word though…

"Also," I continued. "How do you intend to compensate for the money you lost me?"

He shrugged, "I've got something planned. I'll be sure to send you some tickets in the mail when the first showing is."

He waddled away; back to his locker and slamming it closed. I sighed and leaned against my own locker. I didn't even want to know what he was doing. I had a feeling it would insult me somehow.

"Hey, Kyle…" a feminine voice said, dangerously close to my ear.

I turned in surprise to see bushy brown hair and a pair of cute brown eyes. They blinked in surprise and I laughed. "You sneak up behind me then get startled when I turn around?" I laughed.

She blushed and punched me on the arm. "You don't have to jump at me like that!" she dismissed.

I laughed.

"Hey, dude…" a deeper voice said behind her. I glanced back to see Stan had walked over with her. I didn't know that he knew her… This was weird.

"Hi…" I said, trying to keep the suspicious tone out of my voice. "What're you guys up to?" I said casually, propping my Spanish book in the back of my locker and shutting it forcefully.

Stan put a hand on her shoulder and leaned over to whisper something in her ear. She glanced at him and nodded in agreement. I stared at them, something twisting in my stomach. Why did this make me so angry?

Stan knew that I kinda liked Rebecca, so how could he just be moving in on her like this, right in front of me? Maybe I was jumping to conclusions… Stan wouldn't do something like that…

And, somehow I didn't really care as much if he did. At least, I wouldn't care if it wasn't him. Stan was my best friend. Rebecca was a girl who liked me. I don't know if I liked her back, but somehow I wouldn't care if like…Clyde or someone made a move on her. I would be happy if she just left love alone completely. I would be happy just to see her move on.

I just didn't want Stan fucking things up with Wendy again. I hated it when they broke up. It always put him in such a slum that he just wasn't himself…

Rebecca nodded and they were still talking in hushed tones. She turned and walked away from us, clutching her text books tightly. I watched her leave, feeling extremely confused. Why would she come over here just to walk away?

"Hey…" Stan said carefully.

"What's going on with you two?"I demanded once I was sure she was gone.

He glanced back to where she'd just been. "Oh, Rebecca? Nothing, I'm just trying to get to know her." He turned to me and smiled as best as he could manage. "If you're thinking about going out with her, then I want to be able to give you two my blessing…"

I stared at him. "Stan…you're my friend, not my mother," I reminded him. "Even if you don't approve, I'll do what I want."

He frowned, "Yeah, I know. I'm not trying to control you," he said defensively. "I just want to get to know her…okay? It's innocent."

I crossed my arms over my chest. The class bell rang, but we both ignored it. It wouldn't be the first time we'd been late for class. "I don't try to encroach on your relationship with Wendy…" I said.

He leaned against the lockers next to me. "I know…I'm just concerned. She hasn't exactly made your relationship easy and I don't want you to have to go through the same heartbreak as I do…"

I stared at him. That's what this was about?

He was staring at anything but me. "It's just that I've been suggesting that you get a girlfriend, but I don't want her to hurt you. Last time you tried with her she didn't exactly fall into your arms."

"Well…she'd definitely be willing to by now," I reminded him. "Rebecca likes me now. She's all over me…practically all the time."

His expression darkened and became more strained. He forced a smile through reddened cheeks. "Yeah…and I'm…happy that it's finally working out…" he ground out.

Was he alright? Would it really bother him if I decided to ask Rebecca out? He kept suggesting I get into the dating scene. God, he was being confusing! I frowned and put a hand on his shoulder. "Look, dude. I've got a lot going on right now. Between school, all this drama, extracurricular activities, and trying to get my debt under control, I don't really have time for dating anyway."

He smiled sadly. "But if you did…?"

I sighed. That was a question I didn't have the answer to. How was I supposed to know what I wanted? I was fifteen for fuck's sake! (Almost sixteen, but still!). "Do I really have to answer that?" I sighed.

He just stared at me, his blue gaze piercing.

"I…I know that I don't love her. I like her well enough. She's smart and funny and very self-assured. But, we don't really have any history. Why do you care so much, anyway?" I demanded.

He stood from the side of the lockers. "I'm your friend, that's why," he said dismissively. "Let's get to class…"

…

We went back to avoiding each other for the remainder of the week. He was stressed out about his driving course, and I didn't feel like dealing with his pissy attitudes. Apparently he'd gotten his answer he wanted about Rebecca and he'd decided he could leave me alone after that.

I didn't really care though. I hung out with Kenny for the rest of the week. Kenny was good conversation. He listened well and didn't mind picking fun at you because it was all in good humor.

We were walking home from school on Friday. Stan had his final driving test for his license today. It was getting warmer, so Kenny had taken down his mouth cover and just wore his hood.

"Are you going to see the show on Monday?" Kenny asked.

I glanced at him, "What show?"

"Cartman's Broadway musical…"

I stopped completely and looked at him. "What? Cartman's putting on a musical?"

"Yeah…he's been working on it since last week… The book of Jew…he didn't tell you?"

"That little fuck…" I muttered. He was going to make some Broadway musical about my life wasn't he? There was no way I'd allow this to happen. "Where is he?"

Kenny shrugged. "I 'unno…probably working on it. He's bought us plane tickets, but I don't feel like going. You want mine? Give it to someone else…" he said, reaching into his pocket and passing me a plane ticket.

I didn't want it. I just stood there and stared at it. Was this a fucking joke? Why couldn't he give it a rest? It seemed like everything that went wrong in my life stemmed off some shit that goes down because of the little shitlings that live in this Godforsaken town.

I should just move. I really should.

I stuffed the ticket in my pocket and took out my cell phone. I sent a text to Cartman, "Where are you?" and I put it away.

"What are you going to do?" Kenny wondered.

"I'm going to kill him…" I growled honestly.

He laughed nervously, "Ahem…maybe you should try to rationalize…" he suggested. But I didn't want to rationalize. I wanted to kill him. I stood there, considering different ways I could do it. Different methods of torture I'd use before finishing it.

Kenny watched as my grin slowly became more and more like a shark baring its teeth. "Ah… Maybe it won't be so bad," he began. "I mean he's insulted you so many times that he can't get much worse right?"

I resumed walking, "No, Kenny. That's completely inaccurate. Cartman can always outdo himself. It's his talent and its how he keeps us hating him," I snapped.

"Kyle, we've always just put up with it. We can't get rid of him, alright?" he pleaded. I was glad that he was taking me seriously. Stan never did when I talked about killing Cartman. But, it's what I wanted so badly.

"Just submitting to it, Kenny?" I said coldly. "Just putting up with him? I'm sick of it. I want him out of my life."

"What choice do you have Kyle. If you kill someone, you'll go to hell. Trust me…" he said darkly.

"I've already considered that. I still think it would be worth it…"

He grabbed my arm and turned me around. "Don't do it! I'm telling you right now! If you kill Cartman, you'll go to hell and you'll have to listen to all the drama shit that Satan does with Sadam Hussein. I thought I had the whole situation kinked out for him, but he just keeps going back to his old ways and you shouldn't have to put up with it! It's…well…it's hell!"

I stared at him. "Kenny…" I said hesitantly. "Are you alright? You're not making sense…"

He took a deep breath. "If I told you, you'd never listen. I've tried telling you before…"

"Is this that weird thing you keep trying to convince us all. Like…you can't die or something?" I said, growing impatient. Kenny pulled this story out his pocket all the time, and I was getting sick of hearing about it.

He just shook his head. "Next time I die, just talk to Stan…hopefully you'll believe him…" he muttered dejectedly.

I hated seeing him like this. He did it often lately. I don't know why this got to him so much…I think he'd actually convinced himself that he'd come back to life if he died. I wanted to say something, but I'd tried so many times. There was no changing his mind. I wished he could see a therapist, but I wasn't going to pay for him to do so.

"Hey, Kenny…maybe you should come over my house for awhile…" I offered. I was in advanced placement psychology class. Maybe I could figure out what was wrong with him…

"Kyle, I don't want to be psychoanalyzed. There's nothing wrong with my brain," he insisted. "There's just something wrong with my soul. It won't die."

I sighed and just waved him off as we passed his house. He would understand when he was ready. I guess all teenagers do sort of feel immortal sometimes. Even me. I can't imagine the future or growing up…I used to picture it. I thought I would be an astronaut, and then I'd planned on becoming president. I just didn't know anymore. I didn't know anything…

I've been so lazy today that I'm lucky this even got written at all.

Sorry, not much fluff.

Review plz~