Disclaimer: I do not own South Park; it is the property of Matt Stone and Trey Parker.
Stan stumbled back into class a couple minutes after the bell had rung.
Garrison, hands on hips, asked, "Stan, is interrupting my class going to become a regular occurrence with you? Because if so, you can just go march right back out to the principal's office."
The raven-haired boy shook his head emphatically, "No Mr. Garrison."
"Well, then you better just go take your seat."
Stan did so. Within seconds of arriving in his seat, Kyle whispered, "Stan, where were you? I didn't see you all lunch."
In all fairness, Stan tried to whisper back. But volume control was hard when you were twelve and had consumed four beers in the span of about twenty minutes. "Went to the woods," he replied, loud enough for the people around him to hear.
"Stan," Garrison snapped, "this is your last warning. Once more peep, and you'll have a detention."
"Sssssssorry dude," he slurred back.
Stan waited for Kyle to continue hounding him, only to be surprised when the redhead kept his gaze on the front of the room. Leaning over, Stan nudged his best friend and very carefully whispered, "Kyyyyyyle. Don'tcha wanna know why I was in the woods?"
In an equally soft tone, Kyle murmured, "Dude, are you okay? You're acting weird."
"M'fiiiiine," Stan said, once more forgetting about keeping his voice low.
"That's it!" Garrison roared, "Stan, I'm giving you detention, and you can go right to the principal's office."
"But I don't wannna," Stan whined. "I wanna talk to Kyyyyyyle."
The class giggled, and Garrison's face went pink. "Well that's too bad Mr. Backtalk. Now get out of my class."
"No!" Stan said. "You can't make me. I'm going to… to sit right here. And I'm gonna… gonna talk with my best buddy." With that, he deliberately turned his entire desk away from Garrison until it was facing Kyle. Stan stared at his best friend imploringly.
Kyle's eyes were blown wide, flicking between Garrison and Stan, unsure of what to make of the situation. Something was definitely wrong with Stan. He was acting more like Cartman than Cartman, for Moses' sake!
He cast a nervous look at their teacher, who seemed to be seconds away from smacking Stan. Before Garrison did decide to do anything drastic, Kyle said, "Stan… you really should go."
The look Stan gave him made Kyle feel like he was an absolute traitor. "But Ky," Stan whined.
"Hah, you see, you little bastard! Even your friends don't want you around," Garrison said.
"What? That's not true. I didn't say that," Kyle replied, despite his better judgement.
"Well since you're so eager to be with him, why don't you go ahead and join Stan in detention then, Kyle," Garrison said.
The class, predictably, let out a loud, "Oooooooh."
Flushing red, Kyle bit down on his lip to stop the angry, jersey-esque retort that threatened to come out. Instead, he grabbed Stan's hand and all but yanked him out of his desk. "C'mon dude," he muttered.
The teacher turned to look over the rest of the class. "Any of the rest of you going to be a problem today?"
The class was silent for a minute.
"Yea, if you're going to be yelling and blathering on all day, why don't you put that mouth to better use instead and suck my dick," came a heavily muffled voice form the back of the class.
There was a collective gasp from the students. Even Stan, in his inebriated state, was left to gawk at the speaker.
"KENNY McCORMICK, YOU LITTLE SHIT-STAIN. HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO ME THAT WAY IN MY OWN CLASS. GO TO THE PRINCIPAL'S OFFICE RIGHT NOW!" Garrison screamed.
Without much of a fuss, Kenny wandered over to his other two friends, who were looking at him as if he'd grown a second head.
"Eric, you go to the principal's office too."
"EY! What the hell did I do?"
"Nothing yet, but if those three are acting up, then I'm sure you've got something to do with it."
With an angry grunt, Cartman left his seat and growled, "Man, this is bullcrap!"
The four of them left. Once they were outside, Kenny said, "Don't pretend like you're not thrilled to be out of class, fatass."
Cartman huffed and crossed his arms over his chest. Even if he was pleased, he certainly wasn't going to let them know that. "Whatevah."
"Stan, seriously, what is going on with you?" Kyle asked.
"I'm fine." His cobalt eyes glistened when he looked at his best friend. "Hey Kyle, we're already in trouble. Let's ditch and go do something."
The redhead made a strange squawking noise, one that Stan found strangely endearing. "What? No dude, my mom is already going to be pissed at me."
"Yea, cause she's a jersey jew bitch," said Cartman.
"My mom is not a bitch, you fat fuck!"
"Whatevah. Screw you guys, I'm going home."
"You're not going to the principal's office?" Kenny asked.
Snorting, Cartman said, "Why the hell would I? I didn't do anything wrong. Both Garrison and Principal Victoria can suck my dick. I'm gonna go eat some cheesy poofs and watch Terrance and Phillip."
Unable to help himself, Kyle got in one last jab. "Trying to break your own record of having the world's fattest ass?"
"EY! Fuck you Kahl."
"Just ignore him," Kenny said, voice muffled. With a huff, Cartman stormed away from them. To Kyle, the poor boy said, "Go ahead and see Victoria. We'll catch up. I need to talk to Stan."
"Noooo," Stan whined. "I wanna be with Kyyyyyyyle."
Hesitating, Kyle added, "Don't you think we should all go? She'll be suspicious if we left class at the same time, but don't show up together."
"Then wait for us outside. Come on, Kyle. I need to talk to him."
Furrowing his brows, Kyle asked, "And is there a reason you're not involving me?" He sounded hurt.
Stan, not liking his best friend's tone, reached out to put an arm around Kyle's shoulders and hugged him close. "Noooo! We tell each… each other everything!" Glaring at Kenny, Stan said, "If you got somethin' to tell me, then you can tell Kyle too!"
Annoyance growing, Kenny said, "If you want to tell Kyle later, be my guest. But right now, I want to talk to you Stan." His voice started to talk on a Mysterion edge toward the end, making Stan shrink a bit against Kyle.
With a sigh at their stubbornness, Kyle threw up his hands and said, "Fine, whatever. I'll wait for you guys at the principal's office. Just don't take too long."
Stan's fingers curled into Kyle's jacket. "Kyle, I want you to staaayyy," he whined.
"It's fine, Stan," Kyle said, his voice softening just a bit. He wasn't sure why his best friend was being so clingy all of the sudden. Especially when it felt like Stan had been avoiding him all through lunch. Kyle gently peeled Stan's fingers from his jacket. "We'll catch up later."
Stan made a very dissatisfied noise as Kyle began walking away, before he set his sights on Kenny. "Well…?"
Kenny narrowed his eyes, then looked around. There weren't any other students that he could see in the halls, but he didn't want to take any chances. Kenny grabbed Stan's arm and towed him over to the boy's bathroom. Once he was sure they were completely alone, he locked the door and turned to his friend. "You're drunk."
It took Stan a moment to register the words. Once he did, he blinked and waved a hand dismissively, "No I'm not."
"It wasn't a question Stan. Have you met my parents? I know what it looks like when someone is drunk."
Stan turned from his friend stubbornly and made as if to leave, "You're cr—*hic*—crazy Kenny."
The poor boy barked out a laugh and tugged down the hood of his parka. "Yea, like that was convincing." When Stan tried to turn the lock on the door, Kenny pulled his arm back. "Stan, talk to me," he commanded, the gravelly voice of Mysterion echoing against the walls of the bathroom.
"No, fuck you. I wanna see Kyle," Stan retorted angrily, trying and failing to pull his arm from Kenny's grip.
"Stan, stop being such a bitch, or maybe I will go tell Kyle—and maybe your parents while I'm at it—that you've been drinking for nearly two years straight!"
Stan froze. "What?"
Seeing that Stan was no longer trying to leave, Kenny let go of his arm. "You heard me."
For a moment silence reigned as the two boys stared at each other. Kenny's gaze was challenging. Stan's was just shocked.
Finally, it was Stan who broke. "How…" he licked his lips nervously. "How long have you known?"
"A few months. But once I figured it out, it wasn't hard to put two and two together and notice a pattern."
Stan swallowed, "And what was that pattern?" He thought he'd been so careful. If Kenny knew, was it possible others did as well?
"That you've been acting like this ever since your parents nearly got divorced for a second time." Kenny sighed and raked his fingers through his dirty blonde hair. "We all knew you got drunk that one time, when you came crying to Kyle while we were busy with…" Kenny wrinkled his nose, "Cartman Burger. Ever since you've behaved a bit different. Not usually as explosive, though." He eyed Stan.
Sighing, Stan rubbed his palm over his eyes. "Usually, I try to keep it to just being buzzed," he mumbled. "Not drunk."
Kenny nodded at the confirmation.
After a moment, Stan looked up at his friend. "So… why haven't you told anyone else? If you knew for so long."
Kenny shrugged. "You don't tell people about how I still get high."
"But it's just pot now," Stan protested, "not cat piss or anything. It's not hurting you."
"And usually, you don't let alcohol get the better of you." When Stan still looked like he was going to protest, Kenny said, "Look, Stan, do you want me to tell other people?"
"No!" Stan exclaimed immediately.
"Alright, then why are you making a fuss?"
"I… don't know," he said. Stan slumped a bit and rubbed his eyes, "God, Kenny, it's just… maybe sometimes I do want people to know, so I could talk about it. Or so they'd make me stop." He let his eyes fall shut, adding, "I don't want to stop, though. Not really. I mean, I hate being dependent on it. I hate being like my dad."
Kenny grunted. He knew the feeling.
"But," Stan continued, "it helps so much." Stan cracked an eye open to look at his friend, who pretended not to notice how glossy Stan's gaze was. "When I'm not at least buzzed, everything is just…" he let out a rough sob.
"Shit," Kenny supplied. He still remembered how Stan had been in the weeks between his tenth birthday and the day at Cartman Burger.
Stan just nodded.
Kenny walked over and wrapped an arm around his friend's shoulders. "It's going to be okay, Stan," Kenny murmured, much like he did with his sister when their parents were fighting. Because no, it wasn't okay right now. But life moved on. His parents eventually stopped fighting for the day, and Stan would eventually figure this out. And whether he asked for it or not, Kenny would be there to support him.
Stan didn't cry. Sure, his eyes were a bit watery, but he stubbornly wiped his sleeve over his face. A few minutes of silence passed with Kenny holding him, before Stan looked up and gave Kenny a small smile. "Thanks."
Kenny clapped him on the back. "No problem, dude."
As they left the bathroom, Stan had to admit that the talk had definitely taken a huge weight off of Stan's shoulders. Kenny knew, and he wasn't going to rat him out. Instead, now Stan had someone he could actually talk to about it—someone who wouldn't just shrug him off or annoy him like the goths.
Just as he'd said, Kyle was waiting for them outside of Victoria's office. He looked at Stan immediately, but the questions died on his lips when Stan shook his head.
"Trust me dude, you really don't want to know."
Kyle frowned at the response, before eventually shrugging it off. "Well, you seem better, at least."
Stan nodded, "Kenny talked some sense into me. Sorry I was behaving like such an ass… again."
Kyle wanted to stay mad, but hearing Stan's genuine apology and seeing his guilty eyes, Kyle found him self smiling and said, "No big deal, dude."
"Alright lads, times to face the music," Kenny said, pulling the hood of his parka back up before pushing the door to the principal's office open.
I am very grateful for everyone who has read the story thus far. If you're enjoying it, please think about leaving a review for me. It really does make my day when I get a notification saying someone liked what I write enough to comment on it.
