My proofreader disappeared, so this is self-revised. So ignore any mistakes, unless they're super-major or something.

Stan and Kyle made up, and they're hanging as friends...

Yes, that means that they are in speaking terms and will be talking to each other
No, it does not mean that any chances between them are gone completely. Or else this story would already be done, right?

Every two responses bumps update date a day. Current update will be on Friday 29th.

My myspace, if any of you should want to contact me easier, since I'm on it so much, is jbd420ct. (insert that after the normal myspace address... you know what i mean...)

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Review Responses! (chapters 5-8) - Since I do not want to wait until chapter 10
Aurifex - Yay! I got her last name right. That's rather interesting how I got that right. And i love your 17-letter-long word, lol
Coffeey - Thanks for reviewing! Haha, you'll see soon enough how Stan changes his view on Kyle... in the meantime though...
Venus-gurl - I'm glad you like it. A fellow reviewer has actually translated the sentence as a review, but the significance of what it says isn't very important.
Bookyboo - Hooray for French! Or at least paying attention in it, lol. Thanks for reviewing!
Bloody Auzzie Bogan Mate - Thanks for the review. Again, the translation is on the reviews page courtesy of Bookyboo
SomeRandomKyleBroflovskiFan - Thanks for reviewing! Yes Kyle loves Stan... but his resolvement to accept lower standards may come as a problem in later chapters... cough
Nor Monisaux - You haven't reviewed in a while, but thanks for your support so far! Your ideas are actually pretty good, and I might consider it, either in this chapter or the next. Keep reading and stuff.
cjmarie - I couldn't forget you, of course. Thanks for proofreading all this stuff! I most definitely appreciate it, even though you detest French, haha.

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The lunchroom was a very busy place on Fridays. It was extremely loud as everyone began to share their weekend plans. Friday was also when the cafeteria served their best food, which contributed to even more excitement. The daily dose of gossp was also being passed around. And of course, Friday was test day, and so test answers were being sold for unbelievable prices.

The three boys were seated at a table, and though the absence of Cartman was still an awkward thought they had gotten used to it. Stan and Kyle sat next to each other, and the two were reading through biographies and works of Edgar Allen Poe that Kyle had checked out a few moments before. Kenny could only sit and eat his lunch as the red-haired boy took furious notes on the material he was reading. Stan wasn't as rapt about the subject as Kyle was, but he managed to write down a couple of key points.

"Are you going to eat your sandwich?" Kenny asked. Kyle shook his head, and Kenny was quick into snatching it from Kyle's area. Kyle began to mutter things under his breath, and Stan supposed that he was reiterating key facts. Stan looked at his own list of bullet points and frowned upon how small his was.

"Kyle, how much notes do you have?" Stan asked. "I can't really figure out what to jot down." Kyle glanced up from his book and turned to look at his partner's notes.

"We're trying to figure out how each part contributed to the literary world," Kyle replied. Then, glancing at Stan's paper, he added, "you didn't write down very much..."

"That's what I said," Stan said, "I can't really figure out what to jot down."

"Well... just write whatever. We'll figure something out." Kyle gave Stan one last shrug before turning back to his book. Stan gave a frustrated sigh before following suit.

"Hey Stan," Kenny piped in, now that the previous conversation had ended, "that was a really inspiring speech you gave earlier today." Stan felt his face heat up at this compliment.

"I'm not sure how I did it," muttered Stan. "I guess I wanted to tell Cartman my reasonings against that stupid ANTIGSA club he made." Stan could see Kyle's head rise up from the mentioning of the club.

"I think Cartman was the only one who didn't applaud you," Kenny continued. "I even caught Craig clapping to your speech."

"What was your speech on?" asked Kyle, though Stan was sure that Kyle already knew.

"We did this debate in American Government today," explained Kenny, "where we were supposed to argue on a controversial topic. We ended up talking about homosexuality. Stan wasn't supposed to debate about it, but Ms. Kitorese chose him to speak because no one else wanted to."

"I see..." said Kyle slowly. "What side did you take, Stan?"

"Pro," muttered Stan. This was clearly not a confortable subject.

"It was pretty good for improvisation," continued Kenny. "Now he's just got the weekend to come up with something even better."

"On Monday Cartman's presenting con," said Stan. "He's probably going to slaughter the whole gay community with what he's going to say. His views are so extreme sometimes... you know him and his persuasive self." He frowned at his friend, who had hung his head. "Don't worry Kyle, I'll get something together. Though if I could... well, never mind."

"What Stan," muttered Kyle weakly.

"Could I.. interview you and stuff...?" Stan couldn't see it, but Kyle had grown a rather shocked facial expression at the sound of the idea. "I mean, I mean... I need personal views on the matter and stuff... and I won't mention your name either, Kyle. I promise." Stan's gaze never left Kyle, who had still refused to return his gaze. Kenny sat in front of them, across the table, and at the moment he felt rather uncomfortable. Eventually Kyle gave a nod to approve Stan's request, but only raised his head slightly in doing so. Stan was confused; why was Kyle so afraid of looking at him?

"I'll see you later guys," said Kyle, closing his books and packing his things. "Stan, after your detention you can stop by my house to work on the project. I guess you can interview me then too..."

"Thanks," replied Stan as his friend walked away. Then he turned to Kenny.

"I'm going to be so screwed on Monday," Stan sighed, looking at his own lunch now. Somehow the lettuce, ranch, and the roast turkey didn't interest him much anymore. "Cartman's gonna murder me; I know it."

"You'll do fine," replied Kenny, taking a bite out of Kyle's sandwich. "Just do your research... there's gonna have to be some argument to help your case. And that interview with Stan may give you a non-factual edge, if that makes sense at all."

"But what if that interview upsets Kyle?" Stan asked. Kenny glared at Stan.

"You know Stan, it amazes me how you actually don't like Kyle, based upon how you react to him. But he already agreed to it. You'll both be fine." And as the bell rang to hinder any response Stan might have had, Kenny stuffed the rest of his sandwich into his mouth and fled to class.

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The rest of the day seemed to pass rather quickly. Perhaps it was because the second half of class was a period shorter than the first, and because he had more relaxing classes towards the end of the day. Whatever the reason truly was, Stan found himself standing in front of his English teacher's room earlier than he would have liked to be there. Sighing with contempt, he twisted the doorknob to begin serving his detention.

Mr. Absenence didn't bother talking to him, merely dismissing Stan to sit down in any of the desks. Stan took a seat near the front so that when he was done serving his time he could escape rather quickly. He had remembered the rules of Mr. Absenence's detentions, as his teacher had explained it to the class on the first day of school. Detention is not a study hall; you will sit at your desk and remain quiet, doing absolutely nothing except for staring at the board. No exceptions.

"You're here until 3:30," muttered Mr. Absenence as he browsed through the daily newspaper's comics. Stan sighed and immersed himself with the whiteboard. It was rather dirty, as Stan had come to notice, and the writings upon the board were difficult to read because of all the eraser marks. Stan stared at the board for several long minutes before having to stare at something else. He wished that Mr. Absenence didn't take down his clock simply because of detention.

Stan glanced upon all the posters that were plastered on the wall, many of them being visual representations of literary terms. He glanced at onomatopoeia, which he could never spell properly without saying it phonetically (O-no-MA-to-PO-ei-A). Then his glance fell upon metaphor, which had a garden hose being compared to a snake. He glanced upon a few more posters, bored out of his mind, when an odd fellow burst into the classroom.

"Is this where Stan Marsh is?" asked the man. Stan looked at the man and had a hard time suppressing his laughter. The man had thick glasses with many pens in his left shirt pocket. Although he wore a white overcoat (similar to a doctor's) Stan could still see that his shirt was tucked in, and his pants raised past the waist. Basically, he was a grown-up nerd, and it amused Stan how he was a doctor (or seemingly), basically completing a standard stereotype of nerds being successful.

"That's me," Stan replied, eyeing the stranger with curiosity.

"I'm a doctor at Hell's Pass," said the man, raising his right hand to push his glasses up by the bridge, "and your presence at the hospital has been requested immediately."

"Now, now, mister," said Mr. Absenence, talking to Stan, "you're serving detention. You ain't going-"

"But this might be an emergency!" said Stan, rising from his seat. "Please Mr. Absenence, can't I just make it up on Monday?"

"Not again!" yelled his teacher, but the man had chosen to intervene.

"I'm sorry sir, but this is a rather important matter. The boy is in an unconscious state, and Stan's presence is greatly requested by the boy's mother." And with a irritating grumble Mr. Absenence relented, and Stan was excused.

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"We haven't been properly introduced," said the man as he sped away from the school. "My name is Doctor Pelotazul, and I'm a doctor at Hell's Pass, as I said earlier. And of course you must be Stan." There was an awkward silence, before the doctor added; "You're awfully quiet, Stan."

"I'm sorry," said Stan as the man made his way to the hospital, "but I was so carried away that I forgot to ask who was it in the hospital..." Stan was sitting in the passenger seat of the man's car, which was a brilliant shade of blue. Stan had to admit that it was a rather nice car, and that perhaps the doctor profession wasn't too shabby. He wasn't really sure what he wanted to do, but being a doctor wasn't very high on his list.

"Well..." He took his hand off the wheel to push up his glasses, and then scratched his chin. "I'm not exactly sure. I was just sent to get you from wherever you are, and one of your friends said that you had detention."

"Was he in orange clothing?" Stan asked. He, of course, was referring to Kenny, who had a habit of dying. As he grew older his death frequency had lessened, but he still died unexpectedly at times.

"I do believe he was," said the man. "I faintly remember his mother having red hair as well."

"Yeah that's him," concluded Stan. He no longer felt as worried knowing that it was Kenny, but it had still been a good excuse. For the rest of the ride Stan remained quiet. Perhaps Kyle was already there, and maybe even Cartman. His calmness disappeared at the thought of Kyle and Cartman in the same room. Stan was ready for whatever awaited him behind those hospital doors.

And yet as he entered the room he couldn't help but break down and immediately exit the room.

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I think that's where I'm ending chapter nine... I'm starting to get somewhere... I hope.

I'm not getting as many reviews as I would've hoped, but I'm still continuing for the five or six people I'm sure are still following me.