Chapter Two – Kyle's POV
I had been driving for nearly two days straight, and I breathed a sigh of relief as I started to recognize the familiar landscape around me. In less than an hour I would be home again. When I first left for Harvard, I thought I would be happy to get out of my hometown and away from my family for a while, especially my overbearing mother. Now I couldn't wait to get home – I hadn't even realized until now how much I missed them. My workload had been so deep, I had barely had time to eat, let alone think about my family. Even sleeping had become a distant memory for me – in the last three weeks during exams, I had pulled too many all nighters to count.
Becoming used to the lack of sleep has its good points though. I hadn't stopped to sleep since I left Harvard two days ago. This may have also been to the insane amount of caffeine I had been consuming – I was so hyped up right now, I think I was even twitching a little – I laughed as I was reminded of Tweak. I wondered if it was safe for me to be on the road anymore – oh well, it was ridiculous to stop at this point, being so close to home and all. I wonder what Stan would say if he actually knew that in the past two days, I had downed five extra large cappuccinos, at least eight coffees and ten red bulls.
Stan. His name struck a painful chord within me. I hadn't seen him since September, before we left for university. He was the main reason I seriously reconsidered not leaving to go so far away for – my mom would have skewered me though, if I had passed up on Harvard. I had been so used to seeing him every day at high school, it came as a bit of a shock to me when he suddenly wasn't there. I even woke up in the morning a few times, thinking about how I couldn't wait to see his reaction when I told him something, then feeling sick as I was suddenly reminded that we were hundreds of miles away – the only interaction we got was through the phone and MSN. Sure, we talked lots – nearly every night – but it wasn't the same as being in person. I remember one night about a month ago, I was so stressed out about a million assignments we had to do all due that week, that I totally lost it at like three in the morning. I called him, and even though I had woken him up (at this point, I had lost track of time) – he patiently listened to me scream at him on the other end about how much I hated it here and how much I hated all my professors for like an hour. Afterwards, I felt much better and was able to work the rest of the night. He was the one person in all of South Park that I missed the most, and thought about the most. But that was normal right? After all, we were – are – best friends. I was looking forward to spending the next two weeks with him. If I was lucky, maybe he wouldn't even talk too much about his girlfriend.
Hah. Fat chance. Stan never shut up about that girl, Mandy something-or-other. Sometimes I just felt like telling him that I really didn't care about what Mandy did, or what Mandy said, but that would be cruel. It was just that Stan always seemed to have a girlfriend hanging over him; first Wendy, then Monica, now Mandy. Even when they weren't there, Stan talked about them so much that it was as if they were.
I wasn't jealous or anything, either. I guess I kind of envied him a little – he was always the one with 'the girl,' while I somehow managed to stay single through all of high school. It wasn't that I wasn't interested in girls – believe me, I've seen plenty of cute girls walking around campus – I guess it's just that I don't think I'd really have time for one – I mean with the work and all. Yet I somehow can't stand it when I see a couple walking together – I think to myself 'why isn't that me?' It's no one's fault but my own I guess. Or maybe my father's. He was the one that blessed/cursed me with this so called marvelous brain that prevented me from having little time to do things other than study. That was why I was looking forward to doing nothing for three weeks, chilling with Stan, and catching up on sleep.
I snapped back to reality as I realized that I had turned onto my street. I really should stop doing that – spacing out while I'm driving, that is. What if I killed someone? Or worse, what if I dented 'Blitzkrieg?' I cringed at the thought. My car was my one true love, the one thing that would love me unconditionally. Cartman used to tease me about being in love with my car, but I could never deny it. Truth is, I loved Blitzkrieg almost as much as I loved Stan. But not THAT way. Of course not. Stan was like a brother. Plus, I was straight.
I glanced down my street. I grew excited as I saw my house. My home. Then my stomach clenched when I looked at the figure on the other side of the street, watching. It was Stan. By the looks of it, he had been out walking his dog. I quickly dismissed the feeling in my stomach as pure excitement.
I pulled up into my driveway and turned the engine off. I got out of my car, turned around, and let out the girliest squeal I had ever heard in my entire life. Mortified, I quickly covered it up by plastering my face with a stupid grin and waving, willing my cheeks to not go red from humiliation. I hoped to God he hadn't heard it.
I saw him return the greeting casually, and I let out a sigh of relief. I would have never heard the end of it if he had heard me. What had gotten into me? Stupid caffeine…
"What, did you drive all the way back?" he yelled at me teasingly. Of course he knew I had – I had told him a week before we left, and had a good laugh at how my mom had ceaselessly tried to convince me to take a plane. Taking a plane would have meant parting with Blitzkrieg for three weeks, and being out of a ride during that time as well.
"Are you kidding?" I joked back as I crossed the street. "I could drive this thing forever! Besides, there's no way I could part with Blitzkrieg for three weeks!" I gave Stan a brief friendly hug, and I swear to god it felt like he almost melted into me. Or was I just imagining it? I quickly let him go as he looked at my car and stated skeptically
"I still say it's weird you named your car that."
I grinned as I remembered the day I announced the name. He had given me this blank stare and said "Blitz-what?" I rolled my eyes and explained to him that it was pretty much the coolest word in existence and that it was German for a 'swift raid on a village'. So what if it was ironic that these Blitzkriegs mostly occurred during the Second World War, and I was Jewish? That didn't make it an any less cool word. Plus it made me feel European, and I liked that.
"And I still don't give a damn what you think," I retorted, then changed the subject. "So when did you get back?"
"Late last night. I actually just woke up like an hour ago."
I felt a twinge of envy. I checked my watch, even though I already knew what time it was. "It's four o clock dude. When the hell did you get so lazy?"
Stan smirked at me, and I knew he had thought of some sort of clever retort. "Around the same time you named your car Blitzkrieg."
I snorted and responded by lightly punching him in the arm, to which he responded by smacking me upside the head.
"You're such a dumbass," I laughed. "Why do you hate that name so much?"
Stan thought about this for a moment. "I don't hate it, it's just really –"
Stan was cut off by the voice I dreaded the most.
"JEWISH!" Eric Cartman cried. I turned to see him walking down the street. Amazing he could still do that, seeing as he was as fat as he had ever been. I twitched in annoyance.
"SHUT UP CARTMAN YOU FAT FUCK! AT LEAST I HAVE A CAR!" I normally don't snap that fast, but the lack of sleep and way too much caffeine seemed to have affected my patience as well. Then I heard my mom's voice.
"Buhbi, is that you?" she opened up the front door. Crap. I was hoping to talk to Stan for more than thirty seconds. I turned to face him.
"I guess I gotta go now," I said regretfully. "I'll see you around Stan." I turned and headed towards my house.
"Hey Kyle?" I heard Stan's voice behind me. I turned around. "A bunch of people are coming by my place tonight. We're going to get pizza and movies and – shit," he ended lamely.
I smiled at him. "I'm there," I assured him as I walked up my porch. As I was closing the door, I heard Cartman shout one last thing:
"Actually, it would probably be better if you didn't come. We're not planning on renting any Jewish movies." I angrily flipped him off before slamming the door shut and immediately became swept up in an embrace from my mother.
End chapter two