Thank you everyone that has read and/or reviewed!

--

--

--

Okay, so Stan was pissed off about and a little amazed at what Kenny had done, but at least now things made sense. That was just Kenny reading sex into everything and spreading rumors, so it wasn't like it was based on fact, or something.

Because the project was due next Friday, Kyle insisted that they meet in the library that Saturday and research. When they arrived (Cartman whining about sacrificing his weekend for homework) they found that Kyle hadn't been the only one to come up with the idea; Wendy's group was there too, monopolizing the best tables in the back corner.

Stan shouldn't have been surprised. Wendy and Kyle bonded over research papers and midterms. It had all started in their freshmen year, when Kyle had discovered finals for the first time and nearly killed himself by going three weeks without sleeping and drinking nothing but coffee. He'd ended up nearly as bad as Tweek. Eventually his parents had had to check him into the psych ward, where he'd reportedly seen what was either God, or a faulty forty-watt light bulb. Kenny had assured them all that it didn't matter which, because they were both equally inefficient.

(Stan had asked him what God said. Kyle told him God spoke in a low electric hum incomprehensible to mortals.)

Then Kyle had found out that, even though he had went through a minor nervous break down, he still had only gotten second in his class. He'd tracked Wendy down and begged her for her secret; she'd agreed to tutor him and he'd apparently fallen in love with her flow charts and color-coded notes. Ever since then they'd gotten together every Thursday and studied or, as Kenny referred to it, "mind-fucked."

Stan had had a real problem with it at first. Kyle had laughed it off at first and assured Stan he was interested in one thing and one thing only from Wendy, and that was her timetables. After a while, however, he got fed up and told Stan to stop his bitching and get over it.

"Writing about all the good Hitler did. This," Cartman said, "is going to be the easiest assignment ever."

"Cartman," Kyle said through clenched teeth. "I'm warning you now, you say anything-"

"Let's open with his brilliant solution to the Jew infestation."

"God damn it Cartman, shut your fucking mouth!"

The librarian gave Kyle a dirty look. He fumed and began leafing through a book. They sat in silence for the next thirty minutes or a so; every time Cartman opened his mouth, Stan kicked him under the table.

"Damn it," Cartman finally broke out, "quit kicking me, you God damn hippie-!"

"Kyle? I need your help."

Cartman turned around in his seat; Stan, Kenny, and Kyle looked up from their books. Wendy was standing there, clutching a handful of notes and a book on Korean economics.

"What do you want, ho?"

Wendy glared at him. "I wasn't talking to you, Cartman," she said with contempt. "I need help with this project; see, my group is-"

"Tell you what," Cartman said. "I'll be generous and help you out. You be the labor and I'll be management. First, go get some books-"

"Cartman!" she snapped, "I don't need help from a racist, megalomaniac like you!"

"Christ, you sure are a bitch when you ask for a favor."

"Uh, Wendy?" Kyle tried to intervene, but Wendy seemed to have forgotten the other three boys existed.

"The day I ask you for a favor is the day a Galapagos tortoise flies out of my ass!"

"Well I always knew you had something stuffed up there."

"Wendy."

"You son of a-!"

"Wendy!"

"What?" she snarled, and then seemed to remember she'd come over to talk to Kyle. "Oh. Right. Well, Jimmy will only tell jokes and Andrew and Veronica just keep playing flirty grab-ass games, and I can't get any work done at all. All I can find is information on Kim Jong-il's illegitimate children and the Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty."

Kenny leaned forward and gave her a very blatant once-over. "I wouldn't mind grabbing a little ass myself."

"Ugh, Kenny," Wendy said and folded her arms across her chest.

"You're just framing them, you know."

She dropped her arms quickly and scowled at him.

"Sure, Wendy," Kyle said, chucking his book to the side. "I'm not going to find anything anyway. I'll grab a few books and go over it with you."

"Would you take Kenny with you?" she asked, glaring at the boy in question and fingering the hem of her skirt, tugging it down a little.

"Kenny, c'mon."

"I'd rather stay here," he said, grinning. "What do'ya say Wendy, we can blow off this project and get something to eat... Maybe you could blow me-"

"Come on, you poor piece of shit," Cartman snapped suddenly and grabbed Kenny by the collar, knocking over his chair and dragging him off mid-sentence. Kyle stared at them a moment, a little bemused, and then he walked after them.

"Dumbass, that's the fiction section, politics is on the other side of the library..."

Wendy fidgeted with her skirt a moment later, then she sat down next to Stan and smiled at him. He returned it halfheartedly, then glanced away and drummed his fingers on the table. Stan never really knew what to say to Wendy. He hadn't spoken to her at all from fifth grade through to eighth, and then suddenly she was over at Kyle's house all the time.

Unfortunately, while he preferred awkward silence, Wendy seemed determined to make awkward stabs at conversation.

"I heard you asked out Liz."

"Mmm," he said. He really didn't want to talk about it, because he really didn't want to think about it. He cracked open a book and flipped through it, hoping Wendy would get the hint.

"Are things not going well with Kyle?"

Stan dropped the book on his foot. Swearing, he reached down to snatch it back up and rubbed his toe. "Look," he said, "Kenny made the whole thing up, there's absolutely no truth behind it, and-"

"Kenny?" Wendy repeated. "What does Kenny have to do with anything?"

Stan frowned. "Didn't... didn't you hear it from Kenny?"

"No."

"Then who did you hear it from?"

"No one."

"... What?"

"Was it supposed to be a secret? Sorry, but you guys aren't exactly subtle."

"What? Wendy, we aren't dating."

She gave him a confused look. "Why not?"

"'Why not?' What the hell do you mean, 'Why not?'"

"I mean, you two obviously like each other."

"No we don't! I don't! We don't!"

She frowned at him. "But... even back in fourth grade, you got all jealous because I was his partner for that egg assignment."

"Wha... I was jealous because he was your partner!"

"Really?"

"Yes!"

"Oh."

"Why does everyone keep saying that? Kyle and I are BFFs! And that's IT!"

"Right," Wendy said. "Boy Friends Forever."

"BEST! BEST Friends Forever!"

"If you keep yelling like that," Kyle said, reappearing with an armful of books, "you're going to get us kicked out of the library." Cartman and Kenny were trailing along behind him; Cartman had apparently decided to turn Kenny into his own personal pack mule, as he was carrying twice as many books and Cartman had none.

"What are you yelling about, anyway?" Kyle asked, dropping back into a chair and flipping to the index of one of the books.

"Kyle," Stan said, twisting around in his chair. "People think we are dating."

"Oh?" Kyle said, not looking up from the book, and in fact pulling it up a bit to hide his face. "How... shocking and unexpected."

"Yes! Exactly!" Stan said, who'd been wanting his reaffirmation since yesterday afternoon.

"Dude, are you still going on about that?" Kenny asked, dumping his load of books onto the table.

"Christ! This is ridiculous!" Kyle shouted suddenly, slamming his book against the table.

"I know!" Stan said. "It is completely baseless-"

"Not that," Kyle said, waving him off. "This fucking project! That asshole Mr. Dorcas gave me Hitler on purpose."

"Did you find anything on Kim Jong-il?" Wendy asked hopefully. Kyle gestured towards Kenny's books.

"I got one on the state of their economy, military, and everything. It's all this library has."

"Thanks so much, Kyle," she said genuinely, grabbing the books. She gave Stan a somewhat concerned smile, hugged her books to her chest when she noticed where Kenny's gaze was directed, gave Cartman a furious look, and walked back to her own table.

"She's got fantastic legs, doesn't she?" Kenny said brightly. "She's a bit flat, but that's what happens to sporty girls, I guess."

"Damn it, Kenny," Stan growled. "Can you not think about sex, or is it the only thing keeping your head from imploding?"

"Look, I'm sorry about the flyers. What more do you want?"

"I want you to stop starting these stupid rumors!"

"You were all laughing when I convinced the fourth grade Clyde only had one testicle," he muttered, though his comment was indecipherable because of his hood. He coughed and said clearly, or at least as clear as he was capable of being, "I'm only saying what everyone else is thinking."

"What! Everyone does NOT think I am gay!"

"Oh, really? Then what were you and Wendy talking about?"

Stan made a furious sound. "I'll ASK them."

Kenny lifted an eyebrow. "You're going to... ask the entire school if they think you're banging Kyle?"

He colored a little but remained firm. "Yes, damn it! And they're all going to say no, too! Right, Kyle?"

"Mmm," Kyle said, burying himself in a textbook.

--

TBC