Nothing' much to say. Except, I just watched the Critter Christmas episode! Haha! That was funny. "Except for Kyle. He died of Aids two weeks later. GOD DAMMIT, CARTMAN!" HAHA. Er … Just read …

"I've got a big, fat, fuckin' bone to pick with you, my darling. In case you haven't heard, I'm sick and tired of trying. I wish you would take my radio to bathe with you, plugged in and ready to fall." – Alkaline Trio

Edge

Kyle's POV

School sucks ass all day. Nothing holds my interest for long and by last period of the day, I'm sitting in English doodling sadly on the back of my notebook. I'm moping, but I don't care.

I had totally fucked things up with Stan. He got a little freaked out after we kissed, making up some bullshit excuse that he didn't want to miss school. Stan would fight world war three if it meant no school. I hated how he ran down the street, leaving me there, upset and heartbroken. He sent me all the wrong signals, but he still has the balls to hug me. And then he fucking throws all hopes out the window.

I hate him. I fucking hate him.

But I love him more than …

"Mr.Broflovski!"

My head snaps up in surprise and I feel my cheeks turning red as my classmates' laughter erupts around me.

"You can daydream about your girlfriend, or whatever has your mind so occupied, later! Pay attention!"

I want to shoot the teacher for embarrassing me, but I can't help but wish it were a girl who had my mind so occupied.

The teacher launches back into whatever the hell she was talking about, secretly watching me the whole time to see if I'm listening. I bow my head low to the desk and watch as the drawing I created is smudged with my tears.

But I can still see the redheaded boy holding the raven-haired boy so closely, defending him from all harm.

I walk home in a daze, sobbing freely once I'm away from all signs of life. My tears feel frozen on my face and snowflakes are falling onto my head. I want to wipe away the salty drops on my cheeks, but I keep hoping that Stan will come along and see how he makes me feel. I want him to see what he's done. He's totally with my head and feelings and I wonder if this is how any girl must feel when a guy dumps her.

I pass Stark's Pond and automatically u-turn back to it. I'm still sobbing and the wind whips painfully around my head.

I sit myself down on the bench, wrapping my arms tightly my chest. I cough dryly, my nose running. I'm shaking from both the cold and my tears. My vision is blurring from the tears and the pond in front of me is nothing more than a mass of colour.

"Christ, Stan. Why'd you have to do this to me? Why?! I-I …" I look at the sky, the snowflakes hitting me dead on in the face.

I'm suddenly so angry. I'm angry at Stan, at myself, at the world …

"FUCK YOU, STAN! I HATE YOU!" I'm screaming and my words are echoing all around me but I don't give a shit. I just don't care …

I'm shuddering and I bury my face in my hands, crying my heart out.

"Don't cry, Kyle."

I almost jump 3 feet in the air and I turn around to find Kenny staring at me with sympathy. His eyes are wide and incredibly blue. He looks ready to cry himself. He arches a leg over the bench and straddles it, watching me with that same steady look.

"It's okay. I know what happened between you and Stan. I saw it all. I'm so sorry."

I stare at him in awe. He was watching us? The little sneak.

"You were spying on us?"

Kenny shakes his head sadly.

"I saw you run out and I thought maybe something happened between you and Stan. I wanted to see if there was anything I could do and then I saw you kiss him. I saw how he pulled away and backed off. Kyle, I know what he's doing. It's not fair to you and I'm so sorry."

I sob harder and throw my arms around Kenny's neck. Kenny got it. He understood and he was the only comfort I had.

He pulls me into him, gliding his hands on my back, letting me soak his jacket in tears. He smells so good and it's then that I realize I didn't want to shoot Kenny in my dream. I just wanted someone to feel my pain and understand it.

I'm so vulnerable and I hate it. I hate knowing that Kenny could take total advantage of me right now. I hate how I know he wants to kiss me. But Kenny won't. He's respectful and he's people-smart; something you can't learn. You've either got it or you don't.

He lets me cry for a few more minutes, helps me up and walks me home. I'm so exhausted that I let him guide me with gentle hands and caring gestures.

"It's cool that you cry, Kyle."

I look at him shocked.

"Do you get some sick pleasure from it?"

He shakes his head, his blond hair flopping in front of his eyes.

"Not many guys can do that. A lot of them are too proud. Crying helps and it's cool that you don't bottle up your emotions."

It's hard to believe this was coming from the perverted creep I had known my whole life. The guy who set things on fire for the hell of it, smoked and drank, and was always dying and coming back … screwing around with fate. Tempting it.

"Thanks, Kenny." I say quietly.

He nods, embarrassed. His hood is down for once but his hair is so long that it covers his eyes. I put an arm around his thin shoulders and we continue walking down my street, the snow still falling all around us.

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

It's late that night and I'm sprawled out on my bed, reading Spiderman comics. I hadn't read them since I was 12 years old, but I was desperate for a distraction.

I knew Stan didn't mean to hurt me, but I wish he hadn't run. I wish I didn't kiss him. I wish my eyes weren't so puffy. I had been forced to search through Mom's cosmetics until I found some under eye cover-up that would get rid of the puffiness. I was truly finding my inner-homo and that scared me because the more I discovered, the more I realized how comfortable I was with it all.

I turned over on my back, abandoning my comic on the floor. Staring at the ceiling, my thoughts trailed back to Stan.

I wanted so badly to pick up the phone and call him. I wanted to hear his voice. I wanted to tell him how much I hated him, but, also how much I loved him at the same time.

I finally leave my room, heading for the kitchen. I was thirsty and bored. It's dark when I get in there and strips of light shed across the tiled floor. It's quiet and still. Peaceful; I love it. I can see how late it really is by the tiny digital clock on the stove.

I open the fridge, taking out the filtered container of water. The light from inside hurts my eyes seeing as they had been reading by a dim lamp. I rub them and walk towards the cupboard, tapping the fridge closed with my foot as I go.

Settling myself down in one of the kitchen chairs, I tap my left hand repeatedly on the tabletop, sipping my water with the right. It hurts to swallow and I automatically assume it's from all the crying. My throat felt so dry and sore. I hoped to God I wasn't coming down with the flu. But, it would save me from having to deal with Stan at school. I'd have to eventually, anyways …

The phone ringing broke my thoughts.

A bit startled, I raced over to it, making sure to not cause any unneeded noise that would wake up my parents. Also, they'd freak if they knew someone was calling this late. It was after midnight, for God's sake. I wondered how the phone didn't wake them up already. Ike must've set the ringer to high, again.

I looked down at the ringing phone and checked caller ID. It was the number I had known my whole life. The one I dialed almost everyday.

Randy Marsh.

The hell? That meant it was Stan. Why was he calling? Was he calling to apologize? My heart flip-flopped and I pick up the phone after the second ring.

"H-hello?" My voice cracked under pressure and all I received on the other end was a soft click and the dial tone filled my ears.

I placed the phone down softly, confusion etched into my face. Why the fuck would Stan call just to hang up on me? And it was so late …

Maybe he was calling to apologize, but he chickened out at last minute and hung up. It was possible, but it felt like there was something more than that to it. God damnit. I would never know. It's killing me.

Frustrated, I slammed my empty glass down in the sink so hard I was almost scared that it would shatter.

I stomped back up the stairs and into my room, slamming the door as hard as I could without taking the risk of waking anybody up.

I'm so fidgety and restless. I've also noticed that I'm cracking my knuckles like I did when I was ten. I need something, anything, to get my mind off Stan. Going for a walk might not hurt but it's so late. Mom will kill me if she finds me sneaking out. I need to get out of this house though. I need to get into the fresh air.

I slowly push open my window, pleading with it under my breath to keep quiet and not creak. Once it's safely open enough for me to fit through, I climb up on my desk and sling my legs out first, grabbing onto the drainpipe outside for support. I inch myself out and shimmy down the drainpipe, catching my sleeve on the corner of the window and ripping it.

"Shit." I breathe.

Mom would kill me when she saw it. It gave me such a thrill to be doing something so disobedient for once. I felt the tingle of excitement from my toes to my head.

I dropped with a soft thud to the ground, landing on one knee and smudging it with the mud from the ground. I picked myself up, swiping once over for any caught leaves on my coat.

The moon was bright and full and the starless sky was brightened up by it. The mountains, acting like a backdrop, shadowed the houses and made them seem relatively insignificant.

On the top, I felt like the houses. Small and always in the shadows. Deep down, I knew I could be like the mountains. I could make people notice me and respect my feelings. I couldn't let Stan do this to me. He wasn't going to get away with hurting me like this, again.

I walk along the sidewalk, hands in my pockets, and quietly whistling an unrecognizable tune. It was a perfect night. The kind of night where lovers would take walks and hold hands under the night sky.

-Flash back-

He pulls back after a few seconds and leaves his taste lingering on my lips and making me long for more.

"Stan? What's wrong?"

He pulls back, blushing and looking like a small, cornered animal. It feels good to know that I'm the one who is affecting him like this.

"Um …hey, uh. Maybe, we should go into school. I don't want to miss it."

I glower at him suspiciously. He turns away, looking down, up, everywhere but my face.

"You don't usually seem to care that much, Stan."

He shakes his head, looking more flustered than before. He's watching his feet and avoiding my eyes. He's still got bags under his eyes and they're rimmed with red so slightly, you have to be really close to him to tell.

"Look, Dude. Let's just go in. This is getting weird."

He turns around before I can protest and takes off in the direction of the school. I watch him disappear around the fence.

"Weird, huh?" I ask the cloudy sky. "You don't know how weird this is going to get, Stan."

I follow the footprints he's made in the snow and make myself believe that I don't really want to cry over him. But I still do anyways.

-End of Flashback-

I bend down and scoop up a handful of pure snow. I pack it tightly into a slight deformed snowball and chuck it at the side of a house, running before I see it hit.

I run maybe 20 feet and I have to stop because I'm panting for air. My lungs have been filled with sweet icy breath and I exhale slowly, letting it last.

Behind me, I can hear Stan. His footsteps echo in my ears and make me loathe him even more.

"Kyle! Hey, Kyle!"

He's getting closer and I suddenly wonder if he followed me.

"Kyleeeeeeee!" His voice sounds raspy and strangely croaky, like he's just woken up after a long sleep.

I turn around ready to face my destiny.