AN: It's been somewhat of a hellish past few weeks AND I have a sore throat to boot. So due to my not being able to talk, I figured I'd buckle down and write this chapter in order to allow the countdown to the last few chapters to continue. Thanks for all the reviews over the past few weeks everyone, they make crappy weeks a little better. :)

Short Stories with Tragic Endings

Kyle and Stan

Kyle

I am a horrible, horrible person.

I kissed my closest friends ex-fiancée and therefore have a special spot in hell for others just like me. Maybe I could have avoided it, and by it I mean hell, if I was truly sorry for what I did, if it was an accident. But it wasn't an accident, Stan and I planned the kiss, we agreed on it together. And to say I'm sorry for it? Well…I'm sorry it was Bebe's ex, but I'm not sorry it was Stan. So maybe I'm not really sorry at all?

When I got back to work after…hanging out with Stan, Chef was none too pleased with me. If we didn't have such history he probably would have fired me. By the time I rolled back into work I'd been gone for three hours. I'm surprised he didn't ask me to explain myself, though he did glare at me.

It was Craig who was more verbal about it.

"Where the fuck've you been?!" He said first thing to me when I walked in. His arms were covered in plates, and he seemed a little too distracted to really be bothered with where I was. But he quickly dropped off his plates before dragging me into the back room. "Well?" He demanded. "I've been busting my ass here, breaking a sweat and you come in JUST as the rush has been served. I thought you'd be gone an hour and a half tops, but over three?!"

"I-"

"And no bullshit responses either, I don't have time to coax it out of you. We have to get back on the floor before Chef sacks us both."

I avoided his demanding eyes and grabbed my apron from where I left it earlier, "I ran into Stan when I was about to leave our apartment," I told him. Craig knew why Chef let me have an extended lunch break. He knew it was so I could go gather the rest of my things without running into Stan…or so was the intention.

"So?" He spit out annoyed. "Did you guys get into an argument or something, is that it?"

"…no we didn't argue," I said as I grabbed my notebook and flipped it to an empty page before stuffing it in my apron.

"Then what?" He questioned crossing his arms over his chest. His eyes suddenly widened and he stood up a little straighter. "Holy shit…" he muttered

I froze in my actions and took a few shallow breaths.

"Did he…hit you?" He asked, and at that I felt the relief surge through me. I was so wrapped up in his false guess that I didn't even correct him. Before I knew it he was tearing off his apron and grabbing his jacket.

"Wait, where are you going?" I asked when I came too.

"To kick his fucking ass! How dare he hit you? What kind of friend is that? I mean Token hits me all the time but I usually deserve it and besides, Token's hits are nothing in comparison to Stan's. He's got star pitcher power behind that right fist, and it hurts like a fucking bitch!"

"Whoa dude," I said as I grabbed a hold of Craig's arm. "He didn't hit me. If he hit me you'd notice wouldn't you?"

He looked somewhat skeptical, but he roamed his eyes over my face and my body before he seemingly relaxed. "That's true…but then what happened? Spit it out already!"

I have few secrets in my life. I don't usually mind sharing things with people but what happened between Stan and I…I wouldn't mind if that stayed between the two of us. At least until we sorted it all out, but Craig was looking grim and I felt like if I didn't tell him he'd still storm over to Stan's like I was some princess in distress and beat the shit out of him anyway.

"We ah,-"

"If you two sorry excuses for waiters don't get the hell out here in five seconds you're both fired!" Chef took that moment to stick his head in the back to say that and then quickly disappeared. I took his cue, gave Craig an apologetic look and headed right onto the floor.

"B-but, hey!" I heard him say as I walked to the nearest table of people.

The rest of my shift was brutal with Craig giving me looks and Chef glaring at us both. Luckily for me I knew I'd find relief when the girls came in.

When they came in things were starting to slow down and there was time for idle talk and less working. The second they took their seats Craig practically leapt over to them and plopped himself down next to Porscha, who didn't look that pleased.

The girls haven't ever seemed particularly fond of Craig, and he's never been oblivious to that fact and yet that was the first time he had invited himself over to their table. I was prepared to rescue the girls when Craig glanced over at me as he spoke.

"Kyle vanished for three hours with Stan and he's yet to tell me why, I wonder if you gals can drag it out of him," and with that he slid off his chair, gave me a smirk and proceeded back to work.

Three pairs of eyes slowly turned toward me and while Porscha and Lexus didn't seem as if anything was off about it where I had been and who I was with, Mercedes…well, looked like Mercedes and there was something gleaming in her eye. She was smiling like she knew exactly where I was and what I was doing but to my surprise she didn't ask about it. None of the girls did, they simply asked for their orders before talking about the newest trends from Donna Karan.

After I had sent in their order I made sure to give Craig a smirk back to let him know he wouldn't be find out anything unless I told him. And I did plan to, just not that moment.

Work for the remainder of the day didn't get any better after the girls left. Craig kept hounding me every chance he could and finally, in front of a customer no less, I yelled at him. "I'll fucking tell you later okay?!"

All eyes ended up being on me and I hadn't been that embarrassed for such a long time. I had decided to go to the back to calm down a little. When I felt ready enough to face the floor again my cell phone went off flashing Bebe's number.

"What's up Bebe?" I asked, trying not to think that just a few hours earlier I had been making out with the guy she still loved.

"Kyle! I'm so glad I caught you, do you mind maybe going over to Craig's or something for a few hours rather than coming back here when you get off work?"

"Uh," I paused. "Sure, I guess I can do that…why, what's going on?"

"Stan's coming over to talk with me! I think this is going to be it Kyle! This is my chance and I'll bet he's come to his senses now! I'm kinda nervous you know?" She laughed hesitantly into the phone and I swallowed a lump in my throat.

"I'd be too," I muttered back halfhearted, but reassuring all the same.

We hung up, I let Craig know, and he said begrudgingly that I could come over for awhile. I can't even remember what I did at Craig's, but I'm pretty sure it involved him still trying to pry me for information and me worrying over what Stan and Bebe were doing.

I actually didn't like the idea of them being together, alone. Though I wasn't sure for what exact reason. If because I was afraid Stan would be his usual blunt self and say something without thinking, or if because I was afraid Bebe would miraculously get through to Stan and have him take her back. Oddly enough I was a bit of a wreck and after two hours I said my lame excuse for a goodbye to Craig before I bolted out his door and drove to Bebe's.

To say I was completely appalled at the sight the sight that greeted me when I first walked in would probably be a lie. As much of a bastard as it makes me, I was a little…relieved to see her crying. Crying meant Stan hadn't taken her back. But my conscious was pretty quick in giving me a kick in the ass and I immediately settled over her to comfort her.

She told me everything I expected her to say expect for one minor detail.

That Stan told her he would take her back if she was okay with the idea of being with someone that could never love her correctly. I was kind of a mess at hearing that. I was pissed at Stan for his wording, though I understood it, and I felt awful for Bebe. And for a second I wondered what would have happened if Bebe had agreed, what would that have meant? That everything Stan and I did, and said earlier was null and void?

I didn't want that…

It made it harder to soothe her, to be the supporting friend, but I did the best I could and if her clinging to me meant anything I think I can say that I was of help. When her crying started to get he best of her I made her go lie down, promising to bring her something to eat even though I couldn't cook shit.

As I attempted to labor away at her meal I could only think of Stan, even though Bebe was still crying. It sort of made me question what I was doing, and who I was becoming by doing it.

After I gave her the meal, and after taking it away when she assumed it was soup, I let her sleep and chose to stare at my phone.

"What am I doing?" I asked myself as I stared into Bebe's blank television screen. I was trying to make sense of that earlier afternoon all the while trying to remember my role as a good friend. Somewhere in the thinking about both those things I realized something.

For as much as I cared about Bebe, I cared twice as much for the what could be with Stan. I had made my decision. All the same, even with what I was feeling for Stan, I wouldn't allow it to be that simple. I couldn't.

I had to ask him something, I had to be sure he stood where I stood, and that he knew where this would take us and if he could possibly be willing to stop our progression if it came to that. Because if we had to…I would. I just cant be that cruel, I can't be that selfish.

Stan

I park my car at the side parking lot of Cherry Kiss and wait inside for Kyle to arrive. I'm a little early due to my nervousness at his sudden call on getting together here. Eventually my agitation gets to be too much and I decide that what I could with is some fresh air. I step outside my car and sit down on my hood looking down the dark and deserted main street of downtown. If this were any other town besides South Park I might not be so casual about staying out here in the dead of the night. But since it is my hometown the only thing I have to worry about are all the drunken fools that I've known since childhood.

When I see a car make a right turn and head straight for me the lights blinding me slightly, I swallow the lump in my throat and wait for Kyle to park his car. He's relatively quick about it and I watch as he stretches out of his Hybrid with…a basketball under his arm.

He's dressed in a track suit and I eye him confused. He tosses the ball lightly in the air before looking at me. "Is there anywhere we can play on a court?"

"Wh-right now?" I bumble out and he nods. "Umm…" Of course there are places to play but he's lost me. He called me out here, sounding like this was going to be one of those infamous talks from daytime television and he only wants to play basketball? At eleven thirty pm? "The elementary school," I toss out.

"It's lit at night?" He asks doubtfully and I realize he's right.

"The high school then. They keep one on to watch out for vandalism and stuff like that…you want to play basketball?"

"Yeah," he says heading for my car and I get the impression that I'm driving and we're leaving his car here for the time being. "I haven't played since I've been here. I've been antsy to get on a court again."

"Um…okay," I say slowly and we head into my car. Driving to the high school I keep looking over at Kyle, wondering what the hell he's doing. Is he avoiding what he wants to ask me? I want to ask him about it, but he looks so…content. As if he hadn't just called me out here to talk but to honestly play a one-on-one game.

When we pile out and head for the court, Kyle marvels at South Parks high school and I remember that the high school didn't exist when he was here. They built it when we were in middle school when they realized there was nowhere for us all to go in a few years.

"Not bad," he says looking around once we reach the court. I watch him peel off the track jacket and dribble the ball in an almost experimental way. "Do you want first possession?" he asks and I stare at him.

He honest to God really wants to play a basketball game?

"You honest to God want to play basketball?" I voice my thoughts out loud and for some reason he looks momentarily surprised, but he quickly nods.

"Yeah, it'll be interesting. You don't want to play?"

I shake my head, "Kyle its not that I don't want to play I just…I thought you called me out here to talk, not play around."

"I'm getting there," he mutters. "But I kinda need a bit more time to…get the courage to say it."

My heart rate increases ten fold at what he said. It sounded bad and good. "You can have first possession," I manage out and he nods giving me a small smile.

"That's your first mistake," he replies as we get into position. I give him a confused look and without much warning we start.

Kyle was always good at basketball when we were kids, and he had said he played intramurals at Stanford but fucking hell I didn't realize he was this good. After about a half hour he's successfully ahead of me by twenty-two points. It's not even because he's stopping me from making baskets, it just when he makes one it always goes in.

"You're not going pro, why?" I press exhaustedly when he steals a ball from me. I hadn't even seen him.

"I'm too short, that and I don't normally play this well."

"Are you saying I'm a lousy player?" I ask bluntly, frowning.

"I'm saying there are other things besides my skill fueling me right now, that's all."

I sigh and watch Kyle make another basket.

He grabs the ball and whips around dribbling it toward me. He's taking in a few deep breathes and I'm doing the same, though his eyes are far from mine. "You know what I decided when I admitted to myself that I had left you behind eleven years ago?"

He turns back to the basket and aims before taking another shot. It goes in, like all the others in a perfect release. Another air ball.

"I told myself," he goes on when I don't answer. I'm still trying to catch my breath. "That I would never betray another friend. Never." I watch him as he picks it up from rolling on the cheap cement job. "If you were in my position what would you do?" he asks abruptly. "If this was between Kenny and Bebe, like it is for me being you and Bebe. "

"It's different," I say finally managing out something.

"How?" he questions fingering the little round bumps on the basketball. I guess we're done playing.

"Because I don't…I mean, I don't…it's hard to say."

"Then give it a shot."

I almost want to glare at him. He knows damn well what I want to say but cant exactly form into words right in his criticizing face.

"You know I don't feel the same way I did about Kenny that I do for you. It's completely different…" I mutter.

"And if it wasn't?" he prods. "We both already know who you would choose, who you did choose."

"Kyle I-"

"I mean lets be realistic about this for a second. For now lets think about the people around us, everyone who would be affected," he snorts. "I'd be damn lucky if Bebe ever talked to me again. We both risk a huge amount of disapproval just for that alone. And what are we going to tell our parents? I know your mom and dad are pretty cool. My dad might not mind but my mom…hell I don't even want to think about that right now, but I go home in one month Stan. ONE MONTH. What then? I'll be back in California and you'll be here. What do we do about that distance? The physical distance of 1300 miles that's going to be between us? What's the point of even starting anything? We might as well save a lot of people a lot of heartache and not even bother."

I grab a hold of his shoulders to stop his reasoning, forcing him to look me in the eye and causing him to drop the basketball. "What about our heartache?" I question in a low voice. "I understand where you're coming from Kyle, I do. No, I haven't thought about it as much as you because I haven't cared. I've been more interested in you, in the fact that we could be an us if we wanted. What I'm feeling, for you of all people is so new to me! Its new and weird, and confusing, and really uncomfortable at times. But it's exciting and for the love of God I'm happy at the idea of trying something with you. Anything with you, even if we have to deal with distance, and Bebe, and people not liking it. Nothing ever stopped us from doing what we wanted to do when we were kids, why should that be any different now?"

"…because we're eleven years older and wiser."

I shake him very lightly and he frowns, "Kyle." I breathe out. "We're only nineteen. We can still afford to be a little selfish, at least for a little bit longer."

I feel him slump slightly against my hold and I don't even hesitate in pulling him toward me.

"I haven't asked you want I wanted to ask you yet," he says resisting my pull and standing firm where he is.

"And what's that?" I question wondering how that entire array of questions he just asked couldn't be one of them.

"I'd already made up my mind when I called you," he admits looking down at the cement. "Even with all the shit we're going to have to deal with…I still really want to do this with you. Be an us and all that…" he mutters.

I feel myself grin and I don't try to contain it, "then what's your question? Did you bring me out here just to psyche me out?"

"No, I wanted to be sure that you really wanted to do this, do you?" he meets my eye again.

"Of course," I mutter dropping my arms from his shoulders and starting to rub his arms. "Of course I do."

"…good." He gives me a warm smile and I start to get lost in a whirl of returning emotions. Questions fill my head, thoughts of what he just said, everything that could possibly go wrong, but its all irrelevant because he and I are –

"There is a catch though," he suddenly breaks into my thoughts and my arms freeze from their movements.

Kyle backs away from my grasp and rubs the back of his neck looking off and slightly more uncomfortable.

"Catch?" I repeat and sounding like something got caught in my throat.

"Yeah."

I hold back the urge to pinch the bridge of my nose. "And what's this catch?" I ask.

"You," he starts as he turns away and goes to retrieve the long forgotten basketball that's lying to the side of us. "You were able to choose someone over the other when it came down to it. You told me you could pick Kenny over Bebe…and that's where we differ. I cant…I cant pick you over her."

"But you just said-"

"I know what I said, and I know what I want to do…and I'd be more than willing to go through with it but…"

"But?"

"I want Bebe to be okay with us. I want her permission otherwise I won't even be able to look at myself."

"Her…permission?" I say slowly, trying to digest his wording.

"I've thought about it all day and I've realized this is what I have to do to be able to accept myself, to be with you."

"Her permission…you want Bebe's permission…" I mutter.

"I do."

"She won't give it to us," I tell him dumbly.

"You don't know-"

"Yeah, I do."

"She might."

"She wont."

"You don't know that!"

"Why would she?!" I suddenly yell. "What kind of person would? What girl would give her best friend her blessing to being with her ex-fiancée who she still has damn strong feelings of love for?!"

"And what kind of person," he yells back and whips around to face me. "Would go off with their best friends ex-fiancée? A fucking prick, that's who! A goddamn liar, a bastard, a heartless good-for-nothing son-of-a-bitch that should die and go to fucking hell! That would be me Stan! If we went ahead anyway without Bebe's support that would be me! I don't want that to be me!" His voice starts to lose its edge and tone and his shoulders begin to slump again, and the ball drops from his grasp rolling away…

He isn't facing me again and from the look of things he's probably rubbing his eyes in wariness.

Watching him stand there in the darkness with only the little bit of artificial light oddly enough makes me feel lonely. I can't help it. Not just that but I'm frustrated, more than I should be. I want to move on, with him. But I understand what he's going through.

If only we hadn't separated, if only I hadn't gotten involved with Bebe. If only he hadn't gotten involved with Bebe. The 'if onlys' are endless.

I take a few steps toward him and stop when I'm a foot away.

"I don't want to be that guy," he says again, this time quietly and I find myself reaching an arm out toward him. It lowers before it makes contact and I take in an inner deep breath before taking that one extra foot forward and encasing him in my arms.

He tenses in surprise but at least, I think to myself, he's willing to lean in toward me. Though I wonder if it's a conscious move or not…

"I know…I wouldn't want you to be him either. And…you could be right. Bebe could…she could be okay with this." I say weakly, not believing a word of it and tightening my grip around Kyle. I feel like if I don't do it now I might not ever. Not a single part of me believes Bebe will approve.

It could be because of our close proximity, or maybe its because I really feel like I'm actually going to lose Kyle before I've even had him. Or maybe its because of all the emotions, or the surrounding environment of being alone in the middle of the night. Either way without thinking too much on it I turn my head slightly and kiss the base of his neck, nuzzling it slightly as I brush my nose over it and nudging aside his hair.

He doesn't tense, but I hear his breathing hitch and become a little raspier. He doesn't tell me to stop, but I won't disregard what he already said about not being that guy. Nevertheless I want to stay like this just for a while longer, just in case we don't get to experience this again.

I kiss his neck a few more times and again he doesn't tell me to stop, but with a heavy heart I realize besides the change of breathing he isn't going to respond. I guess it's the only way he's controlling himself. He won't stop me, but he wont exactly encourage me either.

"Kyle I-" I suddenly say and stop all at once. "I…" I what? I don't know what I'm trying to say. I drop my head dejectedly on the base of his shoulder beside the neck I was kissing only a few seconds ago.

"I'll be back tomorrow," he says. "I haven't forgotten the agreement so…I'll be back tomorrow."

I tighten my grip once more around him and take a second to take a slightly deep breath, trying to make it not so obvious that I'm breathing in his scent. "Okay," I say hesitantly and release him from my hold.

"Let's give Bebe a week, just one before I…approach her about this," he says.

"Sure," I respond knowing I'd probably say sure to anything he asked of me at this moment.

The two of us are silent. I can't think of anything to say and neither does Kyle it seems. He abruptly turns back to face me and I'm curious at his smile.

"If we played for an additional hour do you think you'd catch up to me?"

I shake my head and try to hide my disappointed smile by aiming my head downward. Basketball. Our change of subject.

"I wouldn't be able to catch up if you gave me two. You're going to have to stop playing so well," I try to joke.

"Then that'd be like letting you win."

"I have no problems with that."

I'm surprised when I feel him lift my face up. His eyes grove over mine, going back and forth. He's looking for something…and all I can do is stare back. I'm even more surprised when he leans in and captures my mouth on his. But it's so fast, and so sudden that I don't even get the chance to respond before he's jogged away to retrieve the goddamn basketball again.

When he turns back around to toss me the ball I give him a questionable look and he shrugs, not bothering to hide his blush.

"One for the road, you know? Just in case…"

I nod slowly before I shake myself out of the daze. Grinning, I check the ball back to him. "I have one hour to kick your ass."

"Don't you mean one hour to not make an ass of yourself? You are twenty-four points behind me," he laughs as I growl at him and get ready to defend my basket.

As we go back to our one on one game and Kyle goes back to handing my ass to me. I decide that if things don't go the way we'd like them to, that this is okay. It's not what I'd want, and it's not what he'd want, but it'd be okay. It'd be better than nothing.

Now all I have to do is try to believe my own words. It'll be hard for me to honestly feel like I'm cool with what's happened.

After having Kyle for such a short amount of time and knowing the experience of it? How the hell could I possibly go back to being just friends? I'd almost think that if I couldn't have him, it'd have been better if he'd never come back to South Park at all. But just almost.

"We should head back, it's getting late," Kyle says as I make a basket some hour later.

I nod in agreement. Our final score? It's not even worth repeating.

As I end up pulling beside Kyle's car in the parking lot that we had left it at I wait for him to leave. Instead he sits where he is looking straight ahead and I'm reminded of something Kenny had said in a similar situation as this.

"I'm not giving you the awkward goodbye kiss," he had said. Or something like it. The thought makes me want to laugh so I do. Kyle turns to look at me, his eyebrows furrowing.

"What's so funny?" he asks.

After I've chuckled a little more I let him know. "I was reminded of something Kenny had said to me awhile back," I say and enlighten Kyle on the memory. "It was the same night he had told me that he had written a will," I finish no longer finding the memory amusing.

"I wish I could have joked like that with him," Kyle says lightly and I glance at him.

"Yeah, his humor was one in a million. He knew just how to make you laugh and how to push your buttons."

"…he's everything to you isn't he?"

I nod without hesitation, "he was."

For some reason Kyle beams at me and as I'm about to ask him what for, he leans over to slowly to meet our lips. He stays there for a long time, with his lips just touching mine without any sort of movement before he slowly drags his lips down slightly, kissing my bottom lip firmly.

"Another for the road?" I question softly when he pulls back, but still close enough for me to be eyeing his lips wanting more.

"Something like that," he responds before opening his passenger door. I grab a hold his wayward left arm before he can leave my car.

"She might say no," I tell him referring to Bebe.

He glances over at me after he's looked at something I can't see for a moment. "She might say yes," he responds before gently pulling his arm away. "Goodnight Stan, I'll see you tomorrow."

I give him a slight wave rather than verbally returning the departure and watch as he hops back into his white car. He starts it and takes off without a moments pause. Rather than follow suit, I sit in my car for a second and think about what he said.

Kyle said that Bebe might say yes. Not that she would. He never said she would. It seems he doesn't believe his own words either, which makes me more uneasy than I want to be. Even though I know Bebe wont agree to this, a part of me felt a little better at the idea if Kyle believed it. But he doesn't, and I don't know what to think.

-FG

AN: Hmm…I've been wondering…where do you all live? I'm starting to get the impression that quite a number of you guys don't live in the same country as I do. Its curiosity really, you don't have to tell and if you choose to I don't need to know your exact location. A country or even a continent will suffice :)