I'M DONE WITH FINALS! Hor-ray! Let me celebrate with a chapter provided for all of you. A big thank you to my reviewers, my supporters, and my readers! A special thank you to my best friend, for helping me out with this one. I appreciate you!

Chapter 7- Not the One

I've accepted the truth. Kyle will never want to be with me. Okay, so I haven't accepted it yet. But it IS the truth.

Kenny and Kyle hang out all the time now. Whenever I call Kenny, it seems like he's over at Kyle's. I don't get it. I don't want to be an ass, but shouldn't Kenny care a little about how this makes me feel? No? I mean, I know that Kyle and Kenny are friends. I know that Kenny thinks Kyle is a cool guy, and he doesn't want to stop hanging out with him just because he and I had a fall-out.

All right, you've made your point. So what is Stan Marsh to do? I sit around and wait for Ken to get done with his capers at the Broflovski's. That is where he is right now. I know I haven't updated you very well. It's been a little over a week now that I found out that Kyle knows. He actually knows how I feel!

Has his attitude changed about me? He really hasn't talked to me one on one. I know that ignoring me seems like the best option for him, but that is destroying our friendship! And dammit, all I am starting to care about now is getting our friendship back!

I can't do this anymore. There was two times this past week that I thought I was going to lose it and confess all of my feelings to him on the spot! The first time was at Kyle's house. My last desperate attempt to win his friendship back. He had invited everyone around him to come over. Sort of a Christmas party type thing. Anyway, I figured he would never personally extend the invite to me, and seeing that everyone of my friends were going to go and it was a Friday night and God help me I was not going to spend another Friday night alone—I decided to go.

It was another opportunity for me to witness drunk Kyle. I have never wanted him more. He hung all over everyone…except…well you guessed it. I watched with envious eyes as he kept talking about how beautiful Kenny's eyes were, how sexy Emery's glasses were, how hot Jacob looked in this old army jacket he found in his basement. He hung a loose arm around Kenny, talking about they were going to have to start up a band with their "mad talent." And then it happened.

Bebe is always the subject of Kyle's flirtations when he is drunk. Don't ask me why. Yeah he talks about the others, but he doesn't play with their hair or hug them or randomly jump on any of their laps. I mean, if I didn't know better, Bebe and Kyle could have a thing going on on the side. But that's stupid. I know it isn't true. It didn't make it any easier for me to watch Kyle blatantly stick his tongue in her mouth and pretend to make out. I think…I think…I KNOW my expression mirrored that of some poor kid who just found his crushed run-over cat on the side of the road, the blood still fresh. Kenny saw it. He walked with me home trying a million different ways to comfort my fragile broken heart.

Kissing Bebe wasn't a big deal though. At the time, I thought I'd die. But the events of that night subsided, and I got over it. It was the NEXT Friday that really stabbed a steel plated machete into my chest. Kyle used the opportunity of a fun get together with a bunch of friends as a time to use his portable mistletoe. That boy…

At first it was Kenny. He leaned over, pecked him on the lips. Right smack on the lips.

Then came Jimmy. Everyone was drunk; otherwise I don't think they'd be willing to be that gay. But Jimmy acknowledged the mistletoe. Kyle kissed him quickly and undesirably. Jimmy turned and kissed some random drunk girl, and then he turned to me. He looked at me with this look in his eye that made me believe he wanted to kiss me. You see, Jimmy once confessed that when he first came back to South Park, he had a crush on me. He said I was nice, cute, and everybody liked me. I thought of this the second he leaned over the chair and announced to everyone that he wanted to kiss me because I have the best lips.

This no doubt made me blush. I mean, I was so flattered that Jimmy thought that about me. I didn't even know I had the power to attract guys. I underestimate my sex appeal. Ha.

Kyle heard this comment, and he spun around to directly face Jimmy. "Wait, what?" he screamed loudly above the music. "You think Stan has the best lips?" Kyle had been ignoring and avoiding me all night to the point I was almost in tears, I thought for a second he was saying that he wanted to kiss me to find out. I know I leaned over the chair that was supporting me so far. I leaned into Kyle, who was but a few feet away from me.

Jimmy looked up from his drink to a challenged Kyle. "Did you say that Stan has the best lips?" he repeated himself. I leaned in further. Hey, I was drunk too. Jimmy nodded and smiled at me. "We'll just see about that," Kyle said. But he didn't even turn his head to me. Instead, he pushed over the chair he was behind, grabbing the back of Jimmy's neck and pulling him into what looked to be a mind-blowing kiss. The force of his aggression pushed Jimmy back, but he eventually regained composure and returned the kiss.

I watched the two boys make out in front of my face, actually hearing the strings of my heart breaking and shattering into a million shards of emptiness. It was unbearable. I turned around, walked away, and left the party. Kenny caught up with me only after I had been walking for a good mile. I had no goal in mind of where to go. I just wanted to walk away. Away from it all…

Kyle knows I like him. He KNOWS, yet he still pulls shit like that in front of me. I think that alone tells me how he feels about me. I can't take this anymore. I know I've said that before, but Jimmy was the icing on the cake. I'm over it. I can't deal with my feelings, I can't like Kyle anymore. I don't want to like Kyle anymore.

So how come Kyle is the only person that I can think of right now?

I hear my cell phone in my back pocket, and I know its Kenny.

"Hey dude," I say, not needing to even look at my caller ID.

"Hey, you still up?" he asks. It is so sad. Kenny's always got this shit going on, and when he's finished up, he calls me, knowing full well I'll just be sitting in my room, playing my video games or watching TV. Man, I need a life.

"Of course," I reply to the fairly obvious question.

"K. Can I come over?" Kenny asks, and immediately my heart rate speeds up to normal again. Human contact…been…so…long…

"Sure!" I respond partially giddy. I haven't talked to Kenny since yesterday. That's a long time to go without him.

"Alright, I've gotta stop by Amber's for a bit, then I'll be over."

"Okay, should I expect you tomorrow then?" I joke, because I know Kenny's "for a bit" is at LEAST an hour. I sigh and resume watching TV, preparing myself for alone time yet again.

The sound he makes on the other end without a doubt proves he is sticking his tongue out at me. "I'll be over in 10 minutes." He hangs up.

"We'll see about that, Ken," I say to myself.

Amazingly. No. Outright miraculously, Kenny shows up thirty minutes later. I'm in shock.

"So what you been up to tonight?" he resumes conversation where we left off. I growl, letting him know that isn't the best question to ask me, cause I got nothing.

He chuckles at me. "You're fine, Stan. A lot of people sit at home sometimes. It doesn't make you a loser." Kenny always knows what I'm thinking, even without me hinting at feeling that way at all. It's incredible.

"Was Kyle's fun?" I say, immediately regretting saying it. I don't want to hear about him. I really don't.

Kenny makes a face that I can't decode. "Dude, I wasn't at Kyle's. But we know who is on YOUR mind," he says with a grin. Good 'ole Ken. Always up for lightening the mood. And I welcome that. Especially tonight. I don't want to turn into a Goth again, where I hate life and go on and on about pain. I'm not like that. I'm just pretty depressed right now.

But his comment intrigues me. I thought he was at Kyle's. "I thought you went to Kyle's," I say, repeating my own thoughts.

"I was going to, but then Mandy called, and I went over there instead."

Enough said. Kenny doesn't pass up a quality session with the ladies. I wear a look of approval and understanding.

"No, I don't know about this anymore," he says, inviting himself to sit on my bed. I scoot over for him. He plops down in one giant THUD, looking dissatisfied.

I give him my undivided attention. "What do you mean? I thought you liked this girl. Not just for a good fuck, either." Yeah, Kenny fucked her. He said he wasn't going to. But then he did. Again and again and again…

He shrugs his shoulders. "I thought I did too."

This man puzzles me. Mandy was turning into more than just a fuck buddy. I think Kenny was really starting to dig her. "Why the change of heart?" I ask, intrigued. He turns to me, his big blue eyes filled with…I don't even know!

"I'm not sure. But she and I were talking tonight, about you."

Whoa. Me?

"Well, about you and me. And how we're always together."

I nod for him to continue.

"And she says it bugs her. Because she's a super cool chic and all, this made me a little angry." He turns his whole body to face me now. "Don't get me wrong, she likes you. She thinks you're pretty cool. But, I don't know. She's jealous, I think."

"Jealous?" Of what?

Kenny smiles, and for the first time, it sends chills down my back. He's never smiled at me that way before. "Of our relationship," he says, with a hint of sweetness and hope hidden in his voice. Hope? For what?

He goes on, looking back down to the floor for answers. "I don't know, maybe its cause she's never had someone as close to her as we are, you know?" He looks back at me. "I felt bad for her, but I started thinking about the whole thing. And the weird thing is, I realized I don't even want to be around her that much." Is he leaning into me?

"I'd honestly rather spend my time with you."

WHOA, big newsflash to Stan! Is Kenny hitting on me? Is he telling me something? Dude, how could have I not seen this before? I look back into his eyes. He's waiting for me to say something. To do something.

I don't even think. I lean in, my face closer to his than it has ever been before. I don't even hesitate when I feel his soft lips upon mine. I push my face against his, parting my mouth slightly.

As I lift my right hand to his cheek, I realize I don't feel his breath. His lips aren't moving with mine. He's cold and stiff.

I open my eyes, peering into big frightened blue eyes. Open wide. I pull back and notice that his body is frozen. His mouth is parted as if to say something, and he isn't blinking. His eyes lose focus of me, and though still big, they don't appear to be focused on anything. Yet they are still staring.

Oh no…

"Uh…" I begin. Great. GREAT. I totally read that situation wrong. Kenny, my only friend left in the world is going to hate me now. I fucked it up. My God, I'm an idiot!

"I'm sorry, Ken. I'm sorry. I thought you were trying to tell me something and I…I don't know. Shit, this is fucking embarrassing. I'm so sorry!" I say over and over, doing my best to distance myself from him. He has yet to move a muscle or blink.

"I don't know what I was thinking. I guess I'm just so upset about the Kyle thing and I'm lonely and I guess I just thought…" I try. But my pathetic attempts are failing. If Kenny doesn't function soon, I'm going to have to give him CPR cause he's going to pass out from not breathing. And for him to wake up to me giving him mouth-to-mouth…I don't think that would be a good idea.

"Wow," he says. "I did NOT see that coming."

I laugh nervously. "Me neither."

"Alright. Well. Stan. I'm going to go," he stutters, so obviously awkward and unsure.

"Okay," I respond. I know he can't stay after that. No matter how badly I want him to.

"Have a goodnight," he wishes, and he backpedals out of the room. Almost as if watching me to make sure I don't run over and pounce on him.

"You too," I reply, really fucking nervous about what is going to happen between him and me. I am praying Kenny is just as cool about this as he has been with everything. Everything I have ever told him.

As soon as he's gone, I fall back into my pillows, letting out a huge groan. I have the WORST ideas ever! I am never NEVER going to be spontaneous and gutsy like that again. Never. I bring my hands to my head, pushing on the sides. "OH MY GOD!" I cry out into the air. "I'm such a fucking retard!" No idea why I did that. No idea. I don't like Kenny like that. He's hot, yes. But he's Kenny. KENNY!

I just kissed my best friend.

---

Pick up, Ken. Pick up! His phone is off. Its Monday morning, and I'm not sure if he's picking me up today. We haven't talked since that horrible, HORRIBLE night in my bedroom. Three nights ago. This has been the longest time I have ever gone without talking to him. We usually hang out on Fridays, Saturdays, Sundays, Mondays, Tuesdays, well, all week. And we talk even more than that. It was interesting trying to find something to do on the weekend without him. I called up Jimmy one night, and we hung out. The next night I played a bunch of board games with my grandpa. On a Saturday night.

"Hello?" I hear after the billionth ring.

"Kenny! It's me!" I gush, grateful that he even picked up.

"Hi." His reply is short and unfriendly. Merely a routine greeting.

"Hey. I was just wondering if you were gonna pick me up for school."

"Uh…hang on," he tells me. I hear a bunch of garbled words, probably from him covering up the receiver with his hand.

I wait impatiently. Who is he asking? Why does he have to ask if it's okay?

"Hey, Stan?" he says, I guess seeing if I'm still there. "I think I'm riding with Jimmy today. My car broke down."

"Oh…" Is this a lie? "Alright. Well I can pick you up then, it's really no big deal."

"Oh. Well, he's already here. So we're gonna go. See you at school!"

Click. What! Wow, he totally hung up on me. What if my car was broken too? Quite possible, the piece of shit.

"Hey, mom, I'm driving to school today!" I announce when heading out the door.

She pauses from cutting oranges to look to me. Confused, she yells, "I thought it was Kenny's turn today." Damn, she really stays on top of it.

I shrug my shoulders, uncomfortably shifting my weight. "Yeah well, we kind of had a…fight." Yeah fight. Eighteen-year-old males like to fight. We're animals. Fighting is manly. Sounds a hell of a lot better than the truth.

She frowns. "You two are always on good terms. What happened?"

Well, mom. If you really must know, he came to me to talk about this girl he was sleeping with but didn't like anymore, and I mistook his words and actions as hitting on me, and I kissed him and now things are really awkward. Hmmm…. better go with "Girl" instead.

"Stanley Marsh, don't you be putting girls in front of your friends. A crush goes away, but friends are forever. You remember that."

"Will do, mom," I say, eager to get out of the house and away from this less-than-comfortable conversation. If only I could tell her. I don't know if she would understand, but I know she would support me no matter what. I always thought that if I did end up dating Kyle, she would be the type of mom to invite him in for family fun night and bake us chocolate chip cookies and ask about our relationship. Maybe I could be wrong. Guess I'll never know. I'm not the one he wants.

I pull into the school parking lot in just the knick of time to drop my access books off at my locker before heading to my first period class. Shit! Next period is study hall with Kenny. Well, this is going to be swell. Last Friday he excused himself to help out with something for Mr. James. Then in Advanced Lit. he barely said anything to me. But now a whole weekend has passed—would things be any different? From the sounds of that phone call, doesn't sound like it.

The announcements came on the first few minutes of first period. I stopped spinning my pencil on the desk when I heard the school was selling their annual Christmas flowers. Now, I'm not usually this lame, but maybe if I got Kenny one of the friendship color flowers he would laugh it off and things would be cool again. I excuse myself from class to go down and sign up for them to deliver one yellow rose to him. On the card, I write:

Sorry for the misunderstanding. You're still a rose to me. Then I erased it. How gay can I be? Wow.

In place of that, I write Sorry about the other night. Can we still be friends? with a winking smiley face. Kenny will get my humor. I sign my name and hand over the pen to the sophomore girls in charge. The girl I give my card to blushes slightly when our hands touch. I smile warmly at her. She's cute, and I like that she is too intimidated to talk to me. Her eyes avert my gaze, and she files my card along the name Marsh, Stan. I walk away, my spirits lifted.

Second period comes and goes. Kenny doesn't ignore me, but he doesn't talk to me either. He actually works on homework straight through. I chalk it up to the fact that he probably does have a lot of homework. No doubt endless nights of sexual pleasure can be time consuming. My best guess is that he will continue the Mandy charade for a while. Even if it is only to reaffirm his masculinity.

I'm excited for this Friday when they will hand out the flowers. Friday is the last day before Christmas break. My mind drifts to Kyle. What does he do on the holiday break? Hanukah is something I've never experienced, and I'm curious how eight days of presents and partying can work without going broke and being exhausted.

I don't have time to think. The bells rings, and I head off to my next class.

Spanish with Kyle is dreadful. He keeps looking my direction without looking at me. Every time I see his eyes wander to me, he turns away with a disgusted look on his face. What the hell? Did Kenny tell him what happened?

KENNY MUST HAVE TOLD HIM WHAT HAPPENED. Shit.

Dude, that is not cool. He shouldn't have sold me out like that.

I watch Mr. Jones for the remainder of the period, mesmerized that he can talk without wiping away the mouth gunk that has accumulated so badly it causes his lips to stick together.

Advanced Literature is even worse. Kenny asks for another partner when paired up with me for a small group activity. He says he's sick of always working with the same person, which satisfies Mr. James. But I know the real reason…and I'm starting to get pissed.

I decide to write him a note in class, complete with illustrations. Last time I attempted this, I was sent to detention. But this has purpose. It will help mend my friendship.

Dear Kenny,

I know you're avoiding me, and for probably good reason too, but don't you think its better to just forget about this and go on with our lives? I hope that Mandy is cooler now. I'm really sorry about interrupting your story with my…um…spontaneous stupidity. But dude, life without you has just been miserable. Please don't ignore me.

Yours truly,

Stan

I folded it up neatly, placing it in his book when he wasn't looking. I have to get my best friend back.

Then it hit me. Literally. I was walking down the hall to my next class and I ran into an open locker. But somehow that made me think. All of this worrying about Kenny has made me almost completely forget about Kyle! Maybe, in some fucked up way, this whole experience was to help me get over my true crush. This is relatively exciting news, and though I have a huge bump on my forehead, my headache is starting to go away.

I write Kenny another note, thanking him for indirectly helping me through it all. Even when he doesn't help, he's still helping. That kid's amazing.

The last period of the day is Geometry and I walk into the room, taking a seat next to DJ. She is wearing a low-cut tank top today. I don't know what the hell she is thinking. It is freezing outside, and not too much warmer in here. But she lays her tie-up sweater on the back of her chair and leans into me, arms folded to increase her cleavage. She looks pretty good today, I decide.

"Hey cutie," she flirts, nudging me with her shoulder. I smile back at her, eyes trying to not focus on her exposed chest. It's times like this when I thank the Lord for allowing me to be attracted to women. She leans over even further and plays with a piece of my hair that is probably sticking up or something.

I look down to complete my homework at the very last minute, but when I look back up, Kyle is standing at the front of the classroom. I blink several times, unsure of whether or not I am imagining him there.

Nope. He's there. Upon closer investigation, I see he is holding a clipboard and standing impatiently for my teacher to sign something. Who knows. He looks over in my general direction, and I literally stop breathing. DJ's hands are lost in my hair. She went to town after I didn't push her away the first time. I look over at her, who is looking at Kyle and smiling, and Kyle, for the first time looks at me. He looks at how close I am to DJ. He says my arm draped around the back of her chair. And his eyes…correct me if I'm wrong…but they show anger!

Okay, so what does that mean? His eyes are narrowed into slivers, and he is giving me the most disapproving look without actually giving it to me. He's gotten really good at doing that.

"Thank you, Mr. Broflovski," my teacher says, snapping Kyle out of his evil glare trance. He looks to my teacher, smiles politely and nods. He leaves the room, stealing a glance at me once more.

What was all that about?

I have no idea what happened. But Kyle just looked at me more in those last few minutes than he has in two weeks. Weird.

"Are you two fighting?" DJ asks, air headedly. She's not interested in Kyle and I's relationship, or lack thereof. She just wants down my pants. And you know, some how I feel like I want the same. I ask her to go out with me after school today. She squeals excitedly and jumps up and down in her seat. I find this a perfect opportunity to write Kenny another note, telling him I'm back to the female persuasion. He doesn't need to worry. I sign it the same as the previous two, and as I walk out of the classroom with DJ not far behind, I march up to Kenny's locker and slip it through the little vent slits.

"What are you doing?" DJ skips up next to me. I reply with an inaudible mutter and she and I walk out of the school, her arm linked in mine. Nobody sees us. This is perfect. Wendy doesn't see us. That's even better.

You know, Wendy is actually true to her word. She's been cool to me since that night. I think when I called her up the next to day to apologize some more, she thought I was making too big of a deal about it. But I can't be too sure. So I apologized like hell until she was laughing at how ridiculous I am.

Okay. The next thing I did, you're not going to be happy about. Please don't judge me. I'm lonely. I'm horny. And I'm pent up.

DJ was absolutely horrible at everything she did. When she went down on me, I thought I was going to fall asleep. I can tell she's done this a lot. She had a routine. It was boring, it was useless. Then, about a half hour of her sucking away, she woke me up with an agonizing scrape of the teeth. I think I'm going to have bite marks on my penis for the next few weeks. It's not a fucking hot dog! You DON'T bite down.

Still, she pleased me. After it was over, I pulled her up to my level and sucked her mouth dry of any saliva left. We were naked under my covers, and another few inches, we could have been fucking. I didn't have a condom though, and who knows what kinds of diseases this girl has. She's not exactly the purest of princesses. She got me pretty hot and bothered again just by dry humping my leg. She went down on me again, and I let her. She was much gentler this time.

All and all we spent a good three hours in my bedroom. I don't think I've ever been so physically exhausted. I'm a total asshole. I didn't even drive her home. She said it was no big deal. I was too tired to move.

I lay in my bed, staring up at the patterns on the ceiling. I thought she would release all of this tension, satisfying my craving. After she left, I realized I have never wanted Kyle more than I did at that very moment. I guarantee Kyle is a God in bed. I can just tell. And yes, I've thought about that. And it doesn't freak me out.

I want Kyle. So bad it hurts. I roll over, closing my eyes and once again imagining he is right beside me. Pretending it was he who made me this tired.

Pretending he feels the same way. When I open my eyes, I realize that's all it will ever be. Pretend.

My bed grows ten times in size. I look over to the cold, empty side, letting out a frustrated sigh.

In the past week, I have managed to alienate my best friend, disgust my crush, and whore around with probably one of the biggest whores in school. What lies next you ask? My thoughts drift into an analytical state. A few minutes later, I hear my phone ring.

I look at the Caller ID, surprised and excited. "Hi!" I answer.

"Hi Stan. We need to talk."