I'm glad I got so many reviews for the first chapter! I love you guys so much!! Well, here's the second. I got the cartilage in my ear pierced tonight and it hurts right now . It was funny. My sister took me and the guy asked me how old I was and I was like, "Uh, sixteen." (Shifty eyes) You could totally tell he didn't believe me. I'm such a bad liar. Haha. So anyways, read on!

Hard to Breathe

Kyle's POV

It had begun to snow when school let out that afternoon. Fluffy white dreams fell gracefully from the open sky and I only smiled.

This was the most peaceful time of the day for me. School was over and I was in my solitude with nothing to disturb me as I went home. I walked past Stark's Pond and was shocked to see that it was completely deserted. Not a living soul in sight. Trees decorated the edge of the pond and they looked dazzling under their dresses of snow. The silence was deafening, however.

It was sort of unusual to see it so empty. Most of the time, it was swarmed with screaming kids and their parents, deprived of quiet time. I remember the happy childhood memories I had there.

"Hey, Kyle! Wait up!"

Whirling around, I can see Stan and Kenny hurrying to catch up with me. Stan slips slightly on the icy ground and pulls Kenny down with him, squealing in surprise.

I can't help but laugh at the scene. Each time one of them tries to get up, they have a war of keeping the other one down. Kenny pushes a sad attempt for a snowball in Stan's face and immediately receives a face wash in the snow.

Kenny grins when they finally get up and stand in front of me, but Stan scowls, coughing hard into his gloved hand. It appears that only Kenny was having fun.

"Smooth, you guys. Real smooth." I laugh.

Kenny loosens the drawstrings on his hood and I can see his blue eyes twinkle mischievously. He blows his blond bangs out of his eyes.

"It was pretty graceful for Mr. Smooth, here." Kenny chuckled, jerking his thumb out in Stan's direction.

I grinned at Kenny's comment and promptly received a glare from my best friend.

"So, what's the hurry? Why are you guys walking this way? Stan, I thought you had football practice …?"

Stan shook his head.

"Fuck no. There is no way, come hell or high water that I am playing in this freezing weather when I already feel like shit. Coach won't care if I skip for one day."

He rubbed his hands together and hopped from foot to foot, trying to keep warm.

"Kenny and I were thinking we'd come over to your house and play videogames or something. Whataya say?

I would've liked to just go home and finish my homework in peace, but Stan's eyes were too much. I hated the intensity I seemed to drown in every time I looked at him. So instead, I nodded.

"Sure, come on."

The three of us walked on down the street. In Kenny and Stan's eyes, Stark's Pond went unnoticed. In my eyes, I silently vowed I would visit my old childhood friend again.

----------------------------

Later that night, long after Stan and Kenny had left, I wandered up the stairs, excusing myself from the table after I ate.

My room was dark and eerie. Only the light from the stars and streetlights outside came through. I flicked on my light and headed over to my desk. I sat in the chair for a long time, spinning absentmindedly around, wondering what I should do.

Now, I know I should be doing homework, but I just couldn't focus. My mind was preoccupied and what was really driving me nuts was the fact that I didn't now what it was preoccupied with. It was like there was a secret memory at the back of my mind begging to be told.

Sighing heavily, I extended my arm down and flicked on my computer. I hardly ever went on unless I needed to type up a paper for school, but hey, it was good for a few laughs every now and then. Aside from that, I wanted to write Stan an email.

The screen came to life and I watched as the desktop loaded.

Every kid at school had the same chat service. I know that Cartman and Stan used it a lot. I had toyed around with it a few times but I found it stupid. All the conversations were small talk and if you started bad mouthing someone to another person, they could easily copy and paste.

I avoided going on, even if it meant being able to talk to Stan. It was too informal. Instead, I opened up my email and proceeded to write to Stan. Him and I exchanged emails every once in awhile and he didn't know it, but I saved every email I had ever gotten from him. When him and Wendy were together and I felt tossed aside, I would just read them. It gave me some reassurance but made me long for him even more.

Deep down, I had known I liked Stan as more than a friend. I probably first found out in the ninth grade. I could remember the exact moment I felt my heart pounce at the sight of him.

-Flash back-

The whole gym class had been forced to do 10 laps around the gym after Cartman kept talking when the teacher was giving out instructions.

"God dammit, Fat boy. What part of 'shut the hell up' did you not understand?!" I complained watching Stan as he took the lead of the entire gym class.

I trotted behind, panting and trying to keep up with his pace.

"Aye! I'm not fat. Jesus Christ, and that bitch is probably just on her period."

Stan rolled his eyes and shot me a grin.

"Sure, Cartman. Just keep telling yourself that. 10 laps isn't too bad anyways. The coach makes us do more when it's warm out. Now that blows!"

I snorted.

"Easy for you to say, Stan. This comes from Mr. Jock himself."

He laughed.

"I can't help that I was gifted with athletic skills … which, by the way, can't be said for Fatass."

Cartman wheezed.

"Shut up, you fag!"

Kenny trailed behind, laughing. All his years of smoking were catching up to him.

By the time we had all completed the laps gym was over. We all headed into the boys shower room, laughing and discussing our plans for the upcoming weekend.

"I think we should all go see that new movie that just came out … you know, the one with Jennifer Lopez. I think it was called Gigli." Stan mused, peeling off his sweaty gym clothes.

"Aw, dude! No way! I heard that movie sucked ass. Plus, I hate that stupid bitch." Cartman groaned, throwing his shirt and shorts to the floor.

I didn't pay attention to this conversation. I just didn't understand. I was so focused on watching Stan undress himself and step into the shower. There were stalls that separated each one, but I couldn't keep my eyes from trailing.

He groaned slightly as he stepped under the hot water and closed his eyes, leaning his face into it.

"God, I love showers after a workout like that."

Cartman flicked water over the stall at him.

"That sounded really faggy, you whore."

Stan gave him a slight glare, not really being serious.

"So, what do you want to do, Kyle?"

I shook my head, red curls scattering across my forehead, curtaining my eyes.

"Huh?"

Stan laughed, water dripping onto his face from his dark bangs.

"Earth to Kyle. I was asking if you wanted to see that Jennifer Lopez flick."

I actually couldn't have cared less but I nodded and tried to hide the blush that was creeping up my face. Christ, what was wrong with me?

Stan shut off the tap to his shower and stepped out, wrapping a towel around his waist as he went. I shut mine off, too and followed.

"Man, we've got friggin' Math after this."

I didn't mind Math, but I watched as he pulled his boxers on, his back to me. He pulled his shirt over his head and ran his hands through his damp hair. It was messy and various pieces stuck out everywhere. It looked good.

"Uh, yeah. Math's okay, though."

Stan grinned and gave me a slight shove as he sat down beside me on the bench, pulling his pants on in the process.

"You should tutor me one of these days. My parents will flip if I fail again."

I managed another nod and tried hard to ignore the feeling in my stomach. I had butterflies. I, Kyle Broflovski, had butterflies.

How odd. How very strange.

Stan seemed less like my best friend and more like eye candy to me.

What was happening? I never acted this way. I wasn't a fag. Why was I suddenly trying to sneak a peak at Stan in his underwear?

-End of Flashback-

I feel that familiar blush creeping into my cheeks as I remember that day. It had been so strange. What provoked it? I didn't think I'd ever know.

I turned off the computer, suddenly too distracted to write the email. My face burned and I pressed my palms against my cheeks, trying to cool them down.

"Might as well finish my homework." I muttered.

Halfway through an English composition, the phone rang, startling me and sending papers scattering off my desk and onto the floor.

Cursing, I bent down and retrieved them all before I picked up the phone.

"Hello?" I said less than friendly. I hated being broken out of my thoughts like that.

"K-kyle?"

I switched the phone to my left ear. I could hear better out of it.

"Yeah. It's me. Stan?"

I heard him hold back a sob.

"Y-ye-yeah. It's me. Can I come over? Please?"

I froze. I hadn't seen or heard Stan cry since we were young. This didn't sound too good.

"Are you okay, dude?"

"Can I p-please just come over?"

My heart skipped a beat and I felt a little guilty. I was so happy Stan was coming over that I had forgotten he was upset and something was wrong.

"Uh, yeah. Sure, Dude. Come on over."

I eyed the clock.

6:47pm

Since it wasn't all that late, I don't think Mom would mind Stan coming over. She loved him like he was her own. I'd just tell her he needed a lot of help on his homework and it couldn't be done over the phone, but I wondered deeply what was wrong with Stan.

I had never heard him like that. His voice sounded dragged down and heavy. Not to mention the fact that he was obviously crying. It scared me. Stan hardly ever cried. He was tough and usually the most well rounded of our friends.

I watched out my window. It was dark and the streetlights brightened up the sidewalks so much that it left little to the imagination. A lady jogged by holding a leash and a golden lab trotted alongside her. I never understood those people. Who the hell jogged at night in the winter?

I trailed over to my bed and I flopped down on it. I was agitated. I wanted, needed, to know what was wrong with Stan.

I couldn't stand waiting. I was probably one of the most impatient people ever. Most importantly, when Stan was unhappy, I was unhappy.

I peered outside at the tall figure slouching towards the front of the house. I didn't move though.

I watched, dazed, as Stanley Marsh came up my driveway.