Hello everyone! I need to apologize for two things; first of all, I apologize for taking forever to update. My life has been craaazy busy lately but I PROMISE I am going to do better to update more often from here on. Secondly, I apologize that this chapter is short, but it is necessary with where I'm going with the story. Anyways, please continue to review because nothing makes me happier than when I get feedback. Enjoy!

"Well, just to let you know, you scored the highest on this last test, Eric." Dr. Priest told me as she smiled.

"R-really?" I asked, a bit in shock myself.

Dr. Priest suppressed a chuckled. "You shouldn't be so shocked, Eric." She said. "Honestly, you've earned it."

Her hazel eyes twinkled as she smiled. Even though this woman was in her late 40's and she had some wrinkles and she did have some strands of grey hair that somehow she could never quite get every time she dyed her hair, I STILL thought she was attractive.

I tried to give off the impression that I was blushing, but honestly I was bursting with pride inside. "Thank you so much Dr. Priest," I said modestly, tucking my chin.

"You're welcome Eric," She said, still smiling. I noticed that other students started to get closer to her, like they want to say something, so I decided I should probably leave on a high note.

As I stepped outside the Math Building this sunny January day, I realized how good the weather actually was for it being January in Colorado. Still bursting with pride, I reached inside my backpack and pulled out the test.

"A motherfucking 100," I mused as I eyed the beautiful red ink of Dr. Preist's, as well as a "Good job!" note next to it.

I breathed in the brisk but refreshing air through my nostrils and exhaled through my mouth as I stretched at the same time. This is already turning out to be a kick-ass semester.

During the last fall semester, after having that long talk with Kyle, he kept his word and DID go see a counselor in the Counseling Center at SPU. He said his counselor's name was "Josh Dunn", and that he was nice. The Jew made a comment or two that Josh was a little weird, and that he didn't really get the whole emo-fag-cutting thing, but that he had heard of it.

"He says he understands it, because he's had other students that have cut too," The Jew would explain. "But I don't think he really does. Sometimes I think he thinks I'm really fucked up, but tried not to show it."

I shrugged when Kyle told me that. A part of me thinks that it could just be because of his crazy mind, but then again, I don't know his faggy-counselor. Maybe he does really judge Kyle, deep down. But either way, I was just happy to hear that he kept going back to see him, since is allowed 25 counseling sessions per semester.

I also noticed that when the Jew started to go for counseling, he cut back on his drinking. A LOT. So much so that Kenny had to start seeking out new friends to get messed up with on a nightly basis. So instead of partying, the Jew was studying much more.

And maybe I was just imagining it, but the few times I would come back from class and he would be leaving to go to class (or vica-versa), I would of course say, "Sup, Jew?" And he would respond with "Hey Fatass," with a smile. A genuine smile. Lately the Jew seemed the happiest that I have ever seen him in a long fucking time. Despite the cold winter weather, he seemed so much more warm and full of life lately than he did during the fall semester.

I would say that I am actually proud of the daywalker, but that would sound so fucking gheyy, so I'm not going to say that.

NEXT SUNDAY

"Kinneh, it's your fucking turn to take out the garbage, you dumb fuck!" I yelled as I pummeled my white-trash roommate's door.

He opened the door and the room reeked of weed. Not to mention his eyes were bloodshot.

"Dude, can't you see I'm fucking busy?" He asked in between coughs.

"Can't you see all the fucks I give?!" I asked. "Just stop being a fag and do it!"

He shrugged. "Fuck you Cartman," He mumbled as he slammed the door in my face. I went back out and continued with the excel spreadsheet I was working on.

After about five minutes, I could hear the pothead come out of his room as he knocked on Butters' door.

"Wanna help me with the trash?"

"Sure, buddy!"

I rolled my eyes. Butters is such a bitch.

There was about 4 giant trash bags (and about to burst) and I half-way paid attention as Kenny grabbed two and Butters grabbed two. As they were leaving, Kyle came in, still wearing his nametag from work. He walked to the kitchen and I could hear him open a can of some-sort. I could see out the corner of my eyes that the Jew plopped himself down on the chair adjacent from the couch. I quickly averted my gaze to him to see what he was drinking.

A coke. Kewl.

"How was work Jew?" I asked nonchalantly, going back to my spreadsheet.

"Long and tiring," He said as he took a long sip from his coke. After a second, he added,

"Another excel spreadsheet?" He asked.

"Yeeeeeeeep," I replied sarcastically, not bothering to move my eyes from the screen.

"Christ," He said.

"It's like this in all my stats classes, Kahl." I said.

The daywalker shrugged. "I guess it'll pay off one day, huh?" He sighed as he stretched his arms out in front.

"I'm SO not looking forward to my classes tomorrow," He complained.

I sighed. "Me neither."

While the redhead took another sip of his coke, his phone rang. After looking at his phone, he got up and went to his room and shut the door.

I figured it was either a girl or his big, fat, bitch-mom. It's more likely the latter.

At first I didn't hear any of the Jew's conversation. But after about a minute I could hear him yelled, "WHAT?!" followed by some muffled crying.

I knew something wasn't right.

When Kyle came out, he didn't bother to hide the tears streaming down his face. He stood in front of me, jacket under one arm, simply stating, "I gotta go,"

"What happened?" I asked.

At first I could tell the redhead wanted to answer normally, but my question only prompted him to break down and cry more. He slowly sunk to the floor, propping himself up on his hands and knees.

"It's- it's…." He could barely talk as his shoulders shook. I got up from the couch and knelt by him.

"Kahl, what is it?" I asked.

"I-It's Ike," He choked out. Then, after he tried to gather his breathing, he managed to add:

"He was just in a car accident."