Hooray! It's chapter 10, and I'm on a rrrroll! YEAH! So I'm thinking this story will probably end up being between 15 and 20 chapters – long I know. Plus afterwards, I will probably be making a sequel to this - I already have a million ideas for it haha. But first comes first!
This chapter was REALLY hard for me to write, because I was trying make practically every line awkward and the whole chapter really tense… next chapter everyone will be getting a nice surprise:D
New contest! And more than one person better enter it, or I'll withhold the next chapter! I'm super serial! So enter!
Contest thing: I want to know what Cartman's wish was that Kyle tricked the genie out that resulted in its' demise and therefore saving his little brother Ike's life? Be creative people
The Prize is, as always, a fanart of your choice.
And now the chapter! Leave a review! You'll make me shriek!
A/N: Yes, Code Blue by TSOL is a real song – look them up! Oh, and sorry for the James Blunt bashiness – I needed something good for the boys to make fun of, and the song is so easy to reword. So it worked. Apologies to those who like him. But think about it. Most teenage boys wouldn't like that stuff, so it makes sense. I am trying to avoid making the boys look like over emotional little girls, and that will continue.
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Chapter 10 – Holiday Shopping in North Park KPOV
I looked at my clock. 7 am. Aaargh.
I had been tossing and turning ever since I got home from Stan's last night at a little past one. My mind had been running on overload, and I always find that whenever I have a
busy mind I can never fall asleep. This was especially exasperating during university, as I often found I could not fall asleep when I had an assignment due within a week. I either had to do the whole thing right away, staying up all night to do so, or at least jot down all my thoughts on a piece of paper. I often discovered my best ideas for topics and arguments hit me in the middle on the night. For that reason I had taken to keeping a pen and pad of paper beside me as I slept. Once I came up with an idea, and a good one at that, I was so scared of losing it that this was my only available solution. And even then I couldn't always sleep.
I'm such a nerd. And I swear to God, I'm turning into an insomniac too.
At around 3 am I had become increasingly frustrated with myself. So I got up, went to my computer and made an alphabetical list of all the books I needed for next term. I wrote down their codes and prices, and made a miniature budget out of that, factoring in taxes and totals. I repeated this task twice – once for books I could get at the used bookstore, and the second in case I had to buy the book brand new. After that, I went back to bed and fell asleep for an hour. I woke up at five, and have been lying awake in bed since.
I could argue that it was the fact that I had gotten way too much sleep the night before. But I knew it had much more to it than that.
No, this had to do with the way that I almost tried kissing Stan back at his party. We were both inebriated, of course. This had to do with the way that neither me or Stan instantly pulled away when we kissed last night. Total accident, of course.
It had to do with the way that I held onto Stan's shoulders after I was winded last night for a little longer than I knew I needed to. It had to do with the way that I found myself staring at his muscular chest last night when he was topless.
It had to do with the fact that I was still wearing his clothes.
The fact that I could smell his scent on them. The fact that I had no desire to take them off. The fact that I secretly have an urge to keep them and never give them back.
No, I had been lying in bed awake all night because I had become consumed with one thought, and one thought only:
I think I'm falling for my best friend.
The thought itself was preposterous. Stan and I were both males. Males are supposed to only be attracted to females. They fit together, biologically speaking.
It was one of the most basic instincts of all living things. Eat, kill or be killed, reproduce, die. Males and females reproduce. Males and males don't.
So why was I feeling this way? This horridly wonderful feeling that I never want to let go of was quickly consuming me. I Imagine Stan's reaction:
Yeah, Stan, I think I like you.
Um… well I like you too Kyle.
No. I mean LIKE you, like you.
…
Runs away
End scene
Ridiculous. This could simply just be because of my lack of success with girls lately, or the fact that I just missed my best friend. I couldn't possibly…. Like him like THAT!
…Couldn't I?
I've been trying to ignore this sensation in the pit of my stomach, but I just won't leave me. It's like a mixture between happiness, nausea, and extreme anxiety, and it grew stronger the more I thought about Stan. I touched the fabric of the shirt and brought it up to my face. It smelled lightly of cologne and it was slightly musty, like dorms rooms did. It smelled like him. Stan.
Wrapping my arms around myself, I rolled onto my side. Stan had looked so good last night. The Fuck da Police shirt was a nice nostalgic touch. Even though the movie sucked, it was nice to hang with my best friend again, whispering stupid remarks about the movie into his ear, watching his reactions…
Damn. I think I really do like him.
…Goddamnit. This CANNOT be good.
If Stan knew, he'd probably never want to talk to me again.
Okay Kyle. Calm it down. You are taking this waaaay too far. Who says you have to tell Stan? Plus you're not even totally sure if you like him.
Well, at least that last part will be sorted out soon. After all, what could better help me than spending a full day with the person in question?
I pulled Stan's shirt off over my head, and bunched it underneath my head, using it as a pillow.
I fell back asleep breathing in the scent of Stan's shirt.
--
I honked the horn on my car, waiting for Stan to exit his house. It was approximately noon.
Stan and I had developed this routine for the past five years. On December the 22nd at noon we went to North Park to do our holiday shopping. I say holiday because Stan gets his Christmas presents, and I get something for my family for the last day of Hannukah. It's become a bit of a tradition between us if you will. We used to have to take the bus to get there, but now I had a car so it worked out all the better for us. I had already gotten Stan his holiday gift so basically all I had to do was get something for my mom, dad and Ike. And maybe Kenny. But not Cartman. He's an asshole. Besides, I used to get him presents and he never thanked me or got me anything back. So fuck him.
I drummed my steering wheel and listened to the radio as I waited. I honked my horn again, impatient.
I waited another five minutes. I began to feel frustrated. I honked out a tune on the car horn. Twice.
Just as I was about to honk the tune for the third time, I saw a figure approach the window in Stan's room. Sure enough it was Stan. From what I could see, his hair was disheveled and he was wearing a pajama shirt.
Had he just woken up?
Stan cracked open his window, and motioned me to come over. I turned off my car and got out.
"What the fuck dude?" he shouted down at me. Yes. I had just woken him up. Hah. He deserved it though.
"I should ask you the same thing!" I shouted back at him. "Let me ask you something, Stan. What day is it?"
"I dunno."
"Go do me a favour. Check the date, then come back here."
Stan left. After a minute, he reappeared. His expression was a mix of horror and apology.
"Dude. I am so sorry, I totally forgot."
I smirked. "Yeah, I figured that when you came to the window still in your pajamas. Let me remind you that you forgot last year too. Good thing Kyle never forgets," I said, tapping my head, "or your family would have had to do without Christmas presents."
"I am so sorry," he repeated, cheeks darkening slightly, probably from embarrassment. "Come inside while I get dressed. I won't be long, I swear." Stan flashed me an apologetic smile before he closed the window.
The door to his house was unlocked, so I let myself in. I took off my shoes and sat down on the couch in their family room. Just sitting on the couch brought back memories, and I shivered slightly.
Shelley was sitting at the other end of the couch, eating a waffle that sat on a plate on her lap. She took no notice of me, and kept her eyes glued to the television.
"Hello, Shelley," I said, trying to be friendly.
"Shut up turd! The show!" she said, gesturing towards the TV, not taking her eyes off of it for a second. I glanced at the set, and saw she was watching some Tuesday morning television special, guest starring some random celebrity.
So I sat there on the couch, looking at the TV but not really watching it, while I waited for Stan to finish up.
Mrs. Marsh took this opportunity to walk into the room, drying a dish. She saw me and smiled kindly.
"Why Kyle! I didn't know you were here! When did you get here?"
"About five minutes ago, I'm just waiting for Stan, and then we're going to go Christmas shopping."
Mrs. Marsh rolled her eyes at me in a motherly way. "That's my Stanley. Always leaves everything until the last minute. So how are you finding Harvard?" she asked me, changing the subject.
I smiled at her. Stan's mom was so nice, it kind of weirded me out since I was so used to my own mother, who was in fact, quite opposite. Stan's parents were pretty open about stuff, and so was my dad, and even Ike, but my mom. She's a different story. Sure, she preaches open-mindedness and the like, but if it has anything to do with her family, she is totally intolerant.
Which is why she'd butcher me if she found out about these strange feelings I'd been having for my best friend.
Mrs. Marsh gives me a questioning look, and I realize that I've spaced out. What was she asking me again? Oh right. Harvard.
"Uh, sorry. I didn't sleep too well last night," I replied truthfully. "Uh, Harvard's been great. Stressful sure, and a lot of work, but it's a great place."
"Well, I hope my son doesn't hold you up much longer-"
"I'm not holding him up mom." Stan came running down the stairs and skidded to a stop at us. His hair was damp.
"Dude, did you manage to shower too in that time span? Bravo," I said admiringly.
Stan grinned lopsidedly at me. "Shower? What? Nah, I'm just really sweaty."
I made a face. "What? Ew, sick!"
"THE SHOW!" Shelly hollered, turning around to glare at us.
Stan had learned by now to avoid that deathly glare Shelly was giving us. His black eye from two nights ago had almost completely faded by now.
"Alright, well we better get going! Bye mom! See you later!" Stan said, taking my hand and pulling me out the door. He seemed really eager to go. I felt a jolt of electricity shoot through my arm at his touch.
Stan pulled me out the front door, only letting go of my hand when we reached the car. I pulled out my keys, unlocked it, and got in. The radio started playing again.
The second Stan closed the door, he turned to face me. "Dude, I am really sorry."
Why is he being so apologetic? "Dude, don't worry about it. You only made me wait like five minutes anyways. How did you ever manage to shower in that time?"
"I told you, I didn't shower. I'm just a sweaty person."
I rolled my eyes. "Well, if that's true, your sweat smells good. Like REALLY good. Kinda like flowers actually. Did you use your sister's shampoo or something?"
Stan sniffed his arm. "I don't smell anything. Maybe it's just your car or something."
I raised an eyebrow. I grabbed Stan's head and pulled it in towards me. His arms flailed for a moment, before supporting himself with one hand against my chest.
Holy mother of fuck. I think my kidneys just exploded.
And just like that, I was wondering what it would be like to kiss him, and for real, not being forced into it or anything.
Trying to ignore my thoughts, I sniffed his head, which sure enough gave off a very flowery smell. It was quite unlike him.
"Nah, dude it's totally you." I released his head, and Stan's took his hand off my chest a moment later. He kinda paused a pit…
Stop it Kyle. You're just imaging things.
Stan was still trying to deny it. I smirked at him.
"Don't worry Stan, we all get the urge to Herbal sometimes." I pulled out of his driveway and drove down the street.
We continued this senseless banter for a while, until James Blunt came on the radio.
"Dude! That guy sucks ass!" Stan exclaimed.
"Do you think it would kill him to sing in-tune for once?" I chime in.
"Or not let his voice crack whenever he says 'you're beautiful'?"
Stan starts off the song, scrunching up his face, trying to make his voice crack at every possible opportunity.
"My love is sexy-"
"My love is hard-" I add in.
"I saw a young boy-"
"Down by the shore-"
"He smiled when he saw me-"
I snorted. "He was with another man-"
At this, we both cracked up, and it took a moment for us to collect ourselves.
Stan took up the chorus, singing as high pitched and horribly as he could
"You're be-eea-u-t-i-faaaaaaawl, it's trueeeeeee!" he screeched.
I added in "I saw your face, rounding second base-"
Stan finished it. "But it's time to face the truth. Fuck, I think that I'm a fruit!"
We both collapsed laughing at this, and my eyes teared up so much from laughing so hard that I couldn't see properly and almost ran a red light.
"Oh fuck dude, change it! I can't listen to this anymore!" I gasped. My stomach burned from laughing.
"Dude, the radio sucks. Do you have any CDs?" I nodded and motioned towards the compartment in front of him. He opened it and rifled through my CDs. He smiled as he found a burned one with the title "Stan and Kyle's picks, 2004" written roughly on it.
"Dude, you still have this?" he grinned at me.
"Fuck yeah! How could I get rid of that thing?" I laughed as Stan put it in. We spent most of the hour drive up to North Park listening to our own personal favourites from nearly two years ago. Stan roared with approval when Code Blue came on.
"I totally forgot about this song dude! Yes! YES!" He cheered the song, and belted out the lyrics.
"NEVER GOT ALONG WITH THE GIRLS AT MY SCHOOL!"
I quickly joined in, and we both screamed out the lyrics while banging our heads to the beat.
"BUT I LIKE IT BETTER WHEN SHE SMELLS OF FORMALDEHYDE!"
Out of the corner of my eye I saw somebody from the next car over look at us strangely, but I didn't care. Stan turned up the volume louder.
"I WANNA FUCK I WANNA FUCK THE DEAD!"
Stan rolled down the window and stuck his head out, screaming the lyrics at people in the nearby cars at the top of his lungs. One woman looked really freaked out, and I didn't blame her. When Stan turned to face me, he had the air of a delusional person. And my God, it turned me on. Which scared the shit outta me.
By the time the song was over we had screamed ourselves out, and we were both fairly quiet for the rest of the drive.
By the time we got there, our screamed-out silence had turned to awkward silence which had turned to forced conversation about nothing. Truth be told, I didn't have much to say – I mean we talked pretty much every day in university, and now I've spent the past three days with him – and I think he felt the same way. Plus I didn't want to blurt anything out that would sound 'suspicious', if you get my drift.
"I'm hungry," Stan announced as soon as I turned off the car in the mall parking lot. "First stop is the food court."
"You lead the way then," I replied. "I have no idea how to get around this mall."
"You've been here just as many times as I've been here," he told me, tsking me.
"So? I have a shit sense of direction."
"Is that how you managed to drive us here then?"
"Dude, shut up," I said, playfully shoving him on the arm.
At least, it should have been a shove. I changed my mind about halfway through, so what happened is I jerked my arm out rapidly then back in, barely brushing his shoulder at all. Stan, startled by my weird arm twist, jumped about ten feet in the air, causing him to stumble and fall into me. We both plummeted to the snow-covered ground, Stan on top of me. What was with all the falling lately?
Before either of us had a chance to react, I irrationally screamed out
"GET OFF OF ME!" Stan immediately jumped off of me, looking shocked at my outburst. I felt my cheeks burn red from embarrassment. What the hell is this? I never blush.
"Uh… uh… dude, sorry… it's…just that…," I said, looking for an answer. "It's just that you kinda… elbowed me in the ribs!"
Stan's face immediately turned apologetic. "Shit… man I am so sorry…"
I immediately felt guilty. "Dude… don't worry about it… it just… startled me… that's all…" Okay, there is seriously something wrong with me. When was the last time I had ever paused that much in a sentence? Pretty much never.
We wordlessly wound our way to the food court.
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And that was the day. Pretty much the most awkward day I have ever experienced in my entire life. It was horrible, I almost wish we had never gone. I might even be scarred for life.
At least one thing was for sure. I totally, without a doubt, like liked Stan.
And this was very, very, very not good.
I pretty much feel like I was entirely responsible for the awkwardness of the entire day, even though I knew this wasn't true. Both of us had been ridiculously jumpy for some reason, and all conversation was ridiculously awkward, no matter the subject. I hope to God that this was just a one-time thing, but something inside of me tells me otherwise. It is the same part of me that is telling me I like Stan in a more-than-friends way.
Maybe it was all my fault…
Incident 1
"Huh, dude, maybe I should get my mom this," Stan said, holding up a book. I peered over at him, and did a double-take. What he for serious?
"Erm, Stan, you do know what that is, right?" I said carefully.
"Sure! It's an exercise book!" He looked at me innocently.
"Stan…. Goddamnit."
"What?"
"Read the title."
Stan looked at the book suspiciously. "1000 great positions… so what?" There was a picture of a woman stretching her legs on the front cover.
How could I possibly explain this to him without horribly embarrassing him and myself?
"Just trust me man, your mom's not going to want that."
Stan looked at me, confused. "How do you know? It's just a dumb exercise book dude… what's the big deal?" Stan proceeded to flip through it, looking at the picture. I watched his face slowly turn from confusion, to awareness, to shock, to horror. He let the book fall to the ground with a slight yelp.
I couldn't help but snicker at the horror plastered all over his face. "Dude, I told you she's not going to want that." I picked it up and read the back. "This book introduces you to the lovely world of kama sutra. There are over 1000 techniques in this book for you and your loved one to partake in… if you are not 100 satisfied, we will provide you with a full refund… dude, did you even read the back?"
Stan shook his head slowly, his face deathly pale. "Oh man…," he choked out "-you could have just TOLD me you know, and not hinted at it-" Suddenly a greenish hue appeared in Stan's face.
Uh oh. I knew that face anywhere. Stan was getting ready to blow chunks. His weak stomach hadn't improved over the years one bit. I quickly ran to the nearest employee and blurted out "Where's the nearest bathroom?"
The employee looked at me with raised eyebrows. "Hold up cowboy. Straight down the hall on the left. Don't spring a leak now."
Ugh. Not cool. "It's not for me, it's for him," I told him, gesturing towards Stan, who was quickly walking out of the store, hand over mouth.
"Aw sick! Don't let him puke in my store!" He whined at me. I glared at him, then ran back to Stan, leading him to the washrooms. He was barely even in the stall when his mouth exploded. I held the door shut behind him to give him some privacy, while others in the bathroom gave the stall and me weird looks.
End scenario
Yeah, so that was fun. Do you know what was even more fun? Inside the music store.
Incident 2
"Dude, I have no idea what the hell to get my sister," Stan told me.
I raised my eyebrow. I was about to speak when-
"Stop doing that!"
I was genuinely taken aback for a moment. "Doing what?"
"That thing you do with your eyebrow! Stop it!" Stan glared at me, face red.
"What, is it getting you all hot or something?" Snickering, I raised my eyebrow again.
"Don't!" Stan shoved me.
"Ah! What the fuck dude?" I shoved him back.
"Just stop!" He shoved me again.
I shoved him back. "Calm-" He shoved me, stepping closer.
"It's-" shove. I stepped closer, glaring at him.
"the-" shove.
"really-" shove.
"fuck-" shove.
"pissing-" shove.
"down-" shove.
"me-" shove.
"Stan-" We were literally inches away, and I was just about to shove him again, when-
"JESUS CHRIST, GET A ROOM WILL YOU?" Some grade nine hoe had shouted at us, and her group of skanky friends laughed.
Now, I normally would have immediately thought of a clever come back, but seeing as those thoughts exactly were in my mind at the time, my mouth dropped, and I stepped away quickly from Stan. He did the same. It took me a moment to realize that a bunch of stupid preteens had just insulted us. And no one, and I mean no one, got away with that.
"Shouldn't you prosti-tots be in class learning your multiplication tables or something?"
The 14 year old teen squad screeched at the insult. Their leader popped a bubble. She clearly thought she was the best thing that happened to the planet. She wasn't overweight, but she wore a miniskirt that was five sizes too small, causing a ripple of skin to billow over the edge. Totally sick.
"We're skipping," she said nonchalantly. "We don't need to take that shit from a bunch of goddamn teachers. All they do is preach and crap."
Wow. What an intelligent comeback. You must be real badasses.
"Hey, you guys wanna come back to my place? We can show you a sweet time," she said, winking, popping another bubble.
Okay, excuse me, but WHAT?
"Okay, listen here little girl-" she squawked at me – "-there are three reasons why that won't work. You can count to three right?" I continued on, ignoring the glare. "One – you're like what, 13 or 14? We're like five years older that you. I don't even know if that's legal. Two- judging by the way you can't buy clothes the proper size, I'd guess that you guys are either totally poor or probably tramps. Kinder-tramps in fact. That's not cool. Three – like I said, you're probably tramps. So who knows what STDs we could pick up from you?" The girls shrieked in dismay.
I felt bad for picking on someone five years younger, but she deserved it. That girl needed to be taken down a few pegs. Me and Stan went to leave, and Stan called over his shoulder
"See you ladies erm… well… NEVER!"
"FINE!" the leader screamed at us. "Go back to your faggy little lives, you fuckers!"
I wasn't about to let a comment like that bother me, but Stan thought otherwise. He whirled around and screamed at the sluts "We are not fags you goddamn hoe!" The girls ood and aahed at him, and I saw his face starting to go red with anger.
I took Stan by the shoulder and turned him around, facing me. I muttered in his ear "Dude, just let it go. They don't know what they're talking about." Stan stared at me for a moment, considering our options. Then he slowly nodded and turned around and left with me, flipping the girls off behind him.
"Stupid skanky hoes…." Stan muttered to himself, glaring at his shoes, face still red.
End scenario
And that was the day. Pretty much anything that came out of my mouth was stupid and pointless to say, or would inevitably make the current situation even more awkward.
Do you think I could have made the fact that I like best friend any more obvious? I mean, good going Kyle. Way to hold back Kyle. Way to freak Stan out. He'd have to be a total dolt to not know what was going through my head. I mean, he knows me better than anyone else right?
I found that any time I was merely looking at Stan, my mind drifted, thinking about different scenarios that could occur. He caught me accidentally checking him out once, but I think he'd just thought I'd zoned out or something, because he waved his hand in front of my face. I had muttered something about not being able to sleep the night before, but that got pretty old after three or four times.
I really, really hate myself right now. I mean, why can't I just face the fact that me and Stan are only friends, and that's all we'll ever be? I mean, the guys had like 7 girlfriends. You can't get much straighter than that.
But still, even though I'm most likely imagining it, I can't help but wonder. I mean, Stan blushed more today than I think I'd ever seen him blush in his entire life.
Shut up Kyle, he doesn't like you. He's more likely to like that prosti-tot than you.
Ouch. That stung a lot.
My only option is to give him space for a few days, to let him forget about this horrible day and to get myself under control. Then I'd just ignore these stupid urges and force them out of my mind. Surely, they'd eventually go away.
You can't just force your feelings away Kyle.
Says who?
Says logic. And logic makes sense.
I pictured myself, leaning in towards Stan. He was smiling at me, and I shuddered as our lips touched. He touched my cheek, and I leant in. He rested one of his hands on my thighs, and I wrapped one of my arms behind his back. My whole body was pounding with desire, and I felt my whole body get increasingly hot as our bodies became pressed closer together. Stan shifted his hand on my thigh….
Oh effing hell! I shook my head roughly, but the daydream wouldn't go away. I felt my cheeks flush hot, and my hands were shaking slightly.
I buried my face in the pillow on my bed, screaming into it until my voice died and I couldn't scream any more.
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How was that for tension? Eh? EH?
I feel so bad making the boys go through all this! But it will all be worth it in the end!
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