This Could Be Anywhere But Here

notes: Hey, all. If anyone has read this story before now, I humbly request that you reread from start to finish. As you may have noticed, my updates have been few and far between. Part of that is due to major life changes, but also due to the fact that I am never satisfied with my work so this story has been edited probably somewhere between 15-50 times since I first posted. This is, in fact, the final chapter, but I do feel like the entire thing needs to be read to get the full effect of what I've been trying to pull off (since 09, holy fuck.) Last update was a full two years ago so yep, I totally suck. I know that's a lot to ask since this is long, but I appreciate anyone reading even a paragraph of this, so you don't really have to. More importantly, I hope you've enjoyed, and I appreciate all of my readers! This story has always been special to me, and I hope I've wrapped this up nicely. An epilogue will make an appearance, but this is the final chapter for the story. So please, again, enjoy! Thanks.

Chapter Thirteen

Any inkling of denial I had about my feelings towards Kyle has gone out the window. I'm over being a fucking idiot. I'm not overthinking it anymore, I know how I feel, and I'm running with it. Nothing makes sense otherwise. I love him, I do. So much so that I'll yell it from the rooftops, literally, if he would just answer my fucking phone calls.

I haven't spoken to him in almost a week, and I haven't seen much sunlight either. I miss him. I miss him a lot. I've called a bunch of times, but he won't answer. Half the time, I can tell he is pressing ignore. It's reminding me of college when I couldn't get a hold of him. Endless texts, calling… it's déjà vu all over again and it's fucking killing me.

Sleep has been nonexistent. I can't get his face out of my head from the argument. He looked totally hopeless. I can't let this go on, I have to talk to him. Even if nothing happens, I can't live with myself with how things are. I'm not even sure what I would say if I could get a hold of him. I just need to apologize, tell him how I really feel; that I've come to terms with it.

I just really need to fix this complete and utter fuck up that I've shoved myself into.

I can't get a hold of him otherwise, so I'm on his front step, staring at the lame sign on the door that reads, "The Broflovskis." I take a deep breath and knock, hoping that Kyle answers and hoping that his mother doesn't.

Thankfully, it's not the latter, but it's not Kyle either. Ike's standing in the doorway and looks a little surprised. I weakly smile at him, "Hey."

He nods, "Hey."

"Kyle here?"

He sighs, "He is, but you know he doesn't want to talk to you right now, dude."

Jesus. I wonder if Ike knows what's been going on. He's Kyle's brother, so he probably does. I sidestep, feeling a little awkward, "Yeah, I figured as much. So, is it too pathetic to ask if I can come in and sit by his door until he decides to talk to me?"

Ike nods, "Yeah, a little too pathetic. I don't want to see that. He just said that he doesn't want to talk to you and for you to go away, though he may have said it a bit more eloquently, like 'fuck off.'"

I raise an eyebrow, "He knows I'm here right now?"

He squints an eye, "Um…no?"

I check behind each side of Ike's head to see if Kyle is anywhere, hiding in the living room. Then I take a step back and look up, toward the second floor of the house. A curtain suddenly flies shut in the front window. I cup my hands around my mouth and yell, "Kyle!"

Ike steps forward, "Dude! The fuck, seriously? Come on, don't cause a scene. He just doesn't want to talk to you."

I roll my eyes. If he's not coming down, then maybe Ike can help out, so I have to ask, "Can you do me a favor then?"

He shrugs, "Depends on what it is, but if it keeps you from yelling in front of our house for all the neighbors to hear, then sure."

I pull the copybook out of my jacket and grip it tightly with both hands, emphasizing the fact that I'm not fucking around, "I need you to give this to him, but you can't open it. I'm serious, dude, you cannot open the book. I'm trusting you here."

He cocks an eyebrow, "Gay porn in there?"

"Yeah, lots. So don't open it."

"Sick."

"I'll buy you beer."

"You've said that before."

I sigh and try not to stomp my foot like a teenager, but it happens anyway, "Come on, I will."

"Ugh, fine."

I go to hand it to him, but pull back for a second, "I'm serious. You can't read it; you can't open it. I'll know if you do."

"Dude, I got it. Just remember the beer."

I nod, hoping to God that I can trust him. I hand him the copybook filled with our embarrassing notes throughout the years, "I need you to give that to him right away."

"Be the messenger boy, I got it."

"Thanks, Ike," I nod as he takes the book from me, somewhat already relieved, "Really."

"Yeah, yeah, just don't sit outside our front door either. That whole pathetic thing works out here, too," He waves me off and shuts the door. I linger for a second and look up at the house again. Just in case…

"Kyle! I gave Ike our book! You know what that means so make sure you get it from him right away!"

Ike swings the front door open again, "Dude!"

"I'm going! I'm going," I shove my hands in my pockets and turn to walk away towards nowhere in particular, dragging hope along with me that it's not too late.

XxxX

I make my way to Stark's pond for no other reason than the fact that I don't want to go home again. I've been in bed most of the week and I could really use a different view other than my ceiling.

Ever since I was a kid, I always got sentimental about Stark's pond. It's just this simple spot in town, but it's always so peaceful compared to the bullshit that is usually going on around here. It's normal. Kyle and I used to skip rocks in the pond, and drink after dark when we were in high school.

The thought makes me look down at my phone, and it's been over an hour since I dropped the book off. I want to call him, ask him if he got it. Ike better not be scanning pages and putting them on the internet.

I shudder. Fuck, he better not be.

Even if Kyle doesn't want to talk to me again after this—never mind, I can't even entertain that idea right now. He has to.

My phone vibrates.

Where are you?

My heart stops.

stark's

I hope that means he's on his way over here. My eyes start looking in every direction for Kyle, hoping that's exactly what his text means. And for the next twenty minutes, every single noise could be him approaching, but it's mostly squirrels or random homeless people shuffling through.

Legs kicked out in front of me, and I'm practically sliding off the wooden bench, tired of waiting. It feels like an eternity since he texted me and it's not like he lives far. Maybe he only asked where I was because he's checking for spots to avoid instead of planning to show up. There's always that.

A tall figure starts to appear across the pond.

Kyle has one hand in his pocket, and our notebook in the other. I smile because I'm giddy, yet nervous. He could totally be here to punch me in the face, but at least he's here. He chose to show up, I could still have a shot. This is a good sign.

He approaches, and he's not wearing his glasses, or his hat. He's in his brown jacket and jeans, very casual. I'm not sure what to do. I want to walk up and hug him, but I don't think that's appropriate right now.

Fuck, he looks great without those glasses. And the short hair, long enough for just a bit of curl to form, totally works for him.

It's kind of fun just embracing these feelings without second guessing myself all the time. He looks fucking hot right now and I want to kiss him again. Yep, totally went there, totally mean it. Totally hope I can do it again.

He's standing right in front of me and I can't begin to try and hold in a smile even though he hasn't said anything yet. He could still hate me right now, but it doesn't matter. I'm just excited to see him again.

I stand up so I am eye level with him, and he looks at me, biting down an awkward smile. He holds the book up between us, "Really?"

I smile back because it feels safe. Good sign number two. I cross my arms, "Well, I couldn't get a hold of you, so you left me no choice."

"Voicemails are a thing."

"Pretty sure I left a few of those."

"Most of them were just, 'call me back.' Not exactly an apology or what you wrote in here. Where did you even find this?"

"It was wedged between the back of my bed and my wall." I look down, "So you, uh, read what I wrote?"

He nods, "I did."

"And?"

His smile fades, and his eyebrows dip with what seems like frustration, "I mean, what is there to say, Stan? Though we were intoxicated, you finally took that leap—you, I'd like to emphasize, not me—and actually kissed me. Something I've been hoping for since, honestly, I don't even know how long. And then the next morning, you metaphorically kicked me right in the nuts by bailing the first chance you got. How can I effectively express how you've made me feel over the past week?"

I practically wince. So much for the good signs.

He pauses, entirely too long, "I guess I can only say, 'my heart has been raped.'"

I bark out a laugh, and he does too. And despite the weight of the overall situation, we probably laugh for too long, "Okay, I totally, totally deserve that. Did you happen to stumble upon the latest message in there, after laughing at my goth kid poetry?"

He nods, a more serious disposition falling over him, "You spell 'I'm sorry' a little differently than normal people, but it's a start."

The conversation feels light, and I think this is heading in a good direction, but I have to let him know that I'm serious here. I step forward and grab his free hand, "Can I say something?"

He swallows and nods, obviously feeling unsure, but at least open to it.

I take a deep breath in, "I know I'm not handling this well. I'm sure you've noticed."

"Kind of hard not to."

"I've been acting fucking weird, I admit that. But, having you back is the best thing that's happened to me in years. I don't want to lose that again."

"I can't handle just a friendship, Stan. You—"

I squeeze his hand, "You want to let me finish?"

He rolls his eyes and I swear blushes a bit. He directs his sight to the ground and decides to keep it there, "Sorry."

"I'm the last one to figure this out, but you know I love you, right? I always have? Fucking Kenny knew all along, apparently. Not like he decided to share that insight any earlier, though."

He's not looking back up at me, so I grab the book from his free hand and drop it on the grass beneath us. I gently touch the bottom of his chin and tilt his head to look at me. His face is vulnerable, his eyes big, but I have his full attention. I take both of his hands in mine and keep his eyes with me, "I mean that, dude. I really do love you. Like I said, it's fucking weird, and everything in between, but in a good way. In a kind of amazing way. This is new for me and I'm sorry that I was a bit of a fuck up while trying to sort my feelings out, but I'm serious about this, Kyle. You are not a guinea pig so I can experiment with my sexuality. You are my life, totally and completely. I'm not right without you."

He doesn't blink, and I feel his hands tighten in mine.

I continue, "I want to take a shot at this. Not being friends, and not some weird in between shit where we just cuddle and wrestle to be closer to one another, but like a real shot at a real relationship," I suddenly stop before assuming too much. He could totally not be ready for that, "I mean, ya know, if you want to."

He scoffs, and his eyes seem a little glassy as he rolls them anyway, "Jesus Christ, of course I do, Stan. You have no idea how long I've been waiting for you to say that. I've been in love with you for-fucking-ever. It's about goddamn-time you realized i—"

I don't let him finish and interrupt him with a kiss. In no way, shape or form can I hold how excited I am that he's on board to wait any longer. I had to kiss him. His last muffled word quickly turns into a smile and I feel his arms come around my waist as he gives in. I pull him close to me and he feels so right I could so strangle myself for not doing this ten years ago.

Kyle,
Listen, I don't regret anything between us. I love you. I always have, and by the looks of it, I always will.

XxxX

The end! Yes! Please let me know what you think, hope you've enjoyed it. In the future, I'll be sure to complete something before I go and only update once a year. o_o