I'M NOT DEAD! XD
I was just in Canada for a week is all. Went to see Niagara Falls. It was amazing~ Canadians are SO freaking nice…it's like an inbreed genetic trait or something. (And yes, they are obsessed with Hockey...it's not just a sterotype)
Anyways, here's this.
BROVFLOVSKI
"Kyle! Kyle, answer…please answer…!" the voicemail said.
"I can't believe you missed the phone."
"Look, I was getting my luggage and I didn't notice my phone vibrate. I'll just call him back, okay Wendy?" I replied, trying to keep the bite out of my tone. I wanted to keep an optimistic façade.
It was pretty difficult by this point. A biologist was transporting a full cage of hundreds of poisonous snakes to New York to do a live presentation. That was the only information that was released about the incident.
Then there was the play. I knew exactly what Cartman was doing with this, and I planned to put an end to this. He'd have to make my money back for me in an honest way. If he wouldn't have morals, I'd have to make up for it.
All in all, I was stressed out. But, I wanted to seem calm for Wendy. She was shook up from the snakes and extremely upset for some reason. She'd been completely silent since Stan had called on the plane. I didn't know what was wrong with her, but I had to prove that Stan cared about her. Otherwise, she'd break up with him again and it would break his heart…again.
Stan had tried calling five times and I hadn't noticed. I wondered if there was a way to set the phone to vibrate harder so I'd realize it was ringing…
After listening to his desperate voicemails, I felt really bad about missing his calls. Stan always had a…thing with snakes. He was probably terrified for me. Which was somehow…gratifying. And that little bit of pride that it gave me, knowing how worried he was, led to instant guilt. Wendy was feeling unloved because Stan had been more concerned about me.
The last three calls had been from the same number, so I guess he'd gotten a hotel room. I redialed the number and waited. There was really no wait though; he picked up immediately.
"Kyle?" he gasped.
"Yep…" I said, grinning. His voice still sounded just as horrified as before, but the fear was letting up.
"Ah…" he sighed. I could imagine him letting his head fall into his palms. "Did you get bitten?"
"Nope, we're both good."
"Both?"
I winced. He really didn't worry about Wendy at all. Maybe she should break up with him. "Me and Wendy…"
"Oh yeah…her. Is she there with you?"
"Not right now…" I replied. "Why?"
"Ah…no reason. I just…need to talk to her," he said, voice cracking.
"You do," I agreed.
He sighed, probably running his hand through his hair like he always did when he was really stressed out. Was it weird that I could figure what he was doing without even seeing him? God, we spend way too much time together. I hadn't even gone three hours without talking to him on the phone. "So, you're alright?"
"Not a scratch," I assured him. "Why are you so worried anyway?"
He was leaning against the wall now. I heard all the air leave his lungs like he'd collapsed against one. "Kyle…how did you feel when I was kidknapped by the skins?"
I glanced over at Wendy. We were standing outside the hotel Cartman had made reservations at. There were several other people from our school that I recognized. Token and Clyde had come as well as Bebe, Sara, and Red...probably others too; already inside.
"Well, I was mad that you just didn't care. You didn't stop and think about how it would affect me if you got yourself killed…" My voice faded off as I caught on to his point. I must have come off as uncaring just like he had back then. "Great…now I feel bad…thank you, Stan."
"You're welcome," he said sarcastically. "Don't try and be a hero, you said."
"Yeah…I know," I said, defeated. "I'm sorry I made you worry. But, you need to worry about your girlfriend too…she feels-"
"I don't care," he cut me off.
"What? S-Stan?"
"She…just doesn't interest me much anymore. I don't wanna keep pushing something that's not there. I mean… I don't know what I mean. Kyle, you won't tell her will you? I want to do this myself for once."
"You're sure? Stan, you worked so hard to get her in the first place. If you break up with her, those lessons I gave you will be useless."
He laughed on the other line. "Trust me, Kyle. They had a purpose..."
"What're you?"
"Well, see you in two days, right?" he said, voice pumped with excessive amounts of cheeriness.
"Ah…right," I replied suspiciously, letting him avoid the subject for now.
"Bye, Kyle. Love you," he said happily.
"Ah…love you too," I replied and he hung up. I stared at my phone, watching the little numbers trace the seconds until I hung up as well.
My lessons had had a purpose I guess. It was a useful skill either way. Was he after Rebecca? No…Stan wouldn't betray me like that, I knew he wouldn't. But, if not her…than who? Wait…did he just say that he-…for me-? Well, I guess it was obvious after all this time, but…still. Maybe he meant a little bit more when he said he loved me.
I shook my head. That was preposterous.
Stan and I were best friends. We were like…brothers or something. I wasn't lying when I said I loved him, but how could I not? It was Stan. He was perfect in every way. We were compatible on every level, and that was why we'd remained friends through all our little arguments.
But…if he gave me the chance to make us more…would I take it? Maybe he was trying to give me the chance all along… Those little lessons…it had felt so nice to have him touch me like that.
Since I wasn't actually the one losing my virginity to Rebecca when I'd done it, he'd given me the closest thing to a sexual experience that I'd ever had. And…I'd liked it.
So, that made it final. If Stan made the first move…I'd respond back in earnest. If not…
"Kyle! I'm so glad you're here!"
I turned just to be tackled by a blur of orange. All my previous thoughts wiped momentarily from my brain. "Kenny?" I cried. "I thought you couldn't be forced to come?"
He shrugged casually. "Neh, I changed my mind. I thought about it and…well, it's not like I have to go to the play. It's a free trip to New York. You'd have to be out of your fuckin mind to let that pass by."
I grinned at him. It was nice to have a familiar face that I'd truly be glad to see. "You're completely right," I agreed. "Are we gonna go grab something to eat? My mom gave me like…sixty bucks for two days in the city."
"Well, if you insist, I'll let you buy me a pizza!" he laughed.
…:::…
MARSH
I hung up the phone, grinning uncontrollably.
Rebecca and I had checked into a little motel off the side of the road in Parachute, using my dad's credit card to pay. It was maxed out completely now so we'd have to make some money somehow to rent a taxi. We'd need a lot if we were gonna make it to L.A. still.
"You got ahold of him?" Rebecca said, coming out of the bathroom with a towel over her hair. She'd just come out of the shower.
"Yep."
"And he's fine?"
"Ah…perfectly fine," I said, collapsing into the hotel bed. I stared up at the plaster ceiling, smiling like an idiot.
I felt the side of the bed dip down. I glanced over. Rebecca had sat down next to me. "Why're you so happy? Just cause he's alive?"
"Well, there's that…and…he said he loves me…" I said giddily.
Her expression fell considerably. I bit my tongue. I'd forgotten that she liked Kyle too…God that was an asshole move. Nice job, Stan!
She forced a smile. "That's good… I mean, are you sure he meant it like that?"
"Oh, I'm positive he didn't," I said, still smiling regardless. "But, it's still nice to hear, y'know?"
"I'm sure…" she muttered.
There was an awkward silence after that. I remembered the time Cartman had been joking around, saying that every time there's an awkward silence, a gay baby is born. I almost laughed again.
"Well…we should look for a job or something…" she suggested calmly. "I can only make so much money on the streets…"
"Oh, hell no! You are not thinking about whoring yourself out again, are you?" I demanded angrily. I thought she'd grown over this. It still disgusted me to think that she had ever stooped so low.
"How else are we going to make money?" she demanded, obviously sick of herself as well.
I was about to answer, but there was a sudden knock at our hotel door. I chose to answer that instead. I peered through the peephole to see a man with a dark blue fedora and a business suit on. I glanced back at Rebecca before answering the door.
"Are you Stanley Marsh and Rebecca Cotswald?" the stout man said.
I stared at him. What the hell? Who was this freak? How did he think I would react to something like that 'yes of course, you're only an old creep that followed us to our hotel room and somehow knows our names. Of course, you can come in.'
I did the most logical thing. I slammed the door in his face.
"Who was that?" Rebecca demanded from behind the wall to the bathroom.
"I've got no clue," I replied. There was another knock at the door, louder and more persistent. "Apparently he hasn't left," I muttered.
"Oh, just let him talk or something," Rebecca said. "He's not going away until you do."
"I'm sorry!" the man cried on the other side of the door. I glared through the peephole at him. He was fidgeting with a briefcase. "I didn't mean to come across as a threat! I'm trying to offer you a gig at my restaurant. I heard you singing on the news and I think you'd be a big hit!"
I exchanged an excited look with Rebecca and she nodded enthusiastically. I turned back to the door. "Okay…here…" I said, slipping the complimentary notebook under the door with a pen. "Write down the time, place, pay, and anything else on there and slip it back under…and…um…thank you."
The notebook slid back under the door. "I hope you'll be there. I'll pay in advance…"
"Thank you, sir…and I'm sorry I slammed the door in your face."
There was a laugh on the other side and I heard him walking down the hall. I turned back to Rebecca. "I think we should take it," she said calmly.
"I do to0, but…don't you think it's just a little too good…"
"You want to know what I think?" she wondered. I nodded. "I think you're paranoid," she concluded. "We've only been on the road one night and we've already totaled your truck. What else could go wrong?"
…:::…
BROVFLOVSKI
"So, they threw out his retainer with the trays and we had to buy him a new one. I swear, it's like the universe wants us to stay poor," Kenny ranted. He was saying something about his brother, Kevin.
"You just wouldn't be Kenny if you weren't dirt poor. I'm sorry, Ken, but yes…the universe wants you to stay poor," I said. He glanced at me, noting my sarcastic smirk. We busted up laughing.
He punched my arm. "God, you really fucking suck, Kyle!"
I laughed. "Hey, I'm buying you pizza, chill out!"
He pouted, shoving his slice deeper into his throat and nearly choking on it. I swear he eats like he might die any second. Still, it was nice to have some simple conversation. Kenny was simplistic…maybe I could talk to him about Stan. But…what if he told Cartman? No…Kenny wouldn't do that.
"Hey, Ken?" I said carefully.
His eyes rose from his pizza; teeth still planted firmly in the cheese. He was still grinning stupidly. Oh, wow…he looked like a puppy. I laughed into my palm quietly. "What?" he said; mouth full.
"I think I need to talk to you…about Stan…"
"Hm?" he said.
"I think…he's breaking up with Wendy…for good."
Kenny perked up, staring at me. "Why?" he wondered, setting down his slice of pizza.
"I just…think he doesn't like her anymore."
He froze. "What?" he said, bewildered. "How is that even…possible. Stan and Wendy have been…forever…they've just…dude, since they were nine!"
"Yeah, I know," I muttered, fiddling with the straw of my cola. I'd need to check my blood sugar later...
"So…if not Wendy…who does he like?"
I considered telling him my suspicions, but I pussied out at the last second, and I shrugged. "Hell if I know. Does he have to like someone all the time?"
Kenny shrugged in response and took a monstrous bite of his pizza. He'd already downed four slices. I wanted to see how many he could eat before he got sick. It was sort of a ritual. If someone bought him food we made bets on how much he could eat.
"So…what're you doing about Cartman's play?" he said after finishing his seventh slice. I'd eaten the last one, just to have a reason to pay for it. It was totally worth it. Kenny would be on the toilet for the rest of the night. New York pizza was always the greasiest.
I grinned. "I've got a diagram I drew up on the plane ride here. I've got it all planned..." I said, smirking.
"Oh, really? I've decied I'm probably just gonna watch it. I mean…if you're gonna trash it anyway, I might as well be amused, right?" he reasoned. "But…you actually thought up plans on that plane ride? I was fucking terrified that whole time. I'm surprised I didn't get killed…"
"I'm surprised that nobody I know was bitten…" I said. It was still astounding.
"I'm surprised that I wasn't bitten," he repeated.
"I mean, there were at least five deaths, and four hospitalizations. It was really a blessing that it wasn't anybody we know…"
"Yea…like me!"
"Um…right?"
Yay~ an update.
I promised myself I would put one up the day I got back, so here it is.
Next Chapter is the play and Stan and Rebecca make it to LA.
I know it's kinda vain and presumptuous, but…is it too early to ask for fanart?
I'm on Deviantart, so…it would be so cool to see a picture of my story on there…(I'll just dream about it…)
Reviews make me type faster~
