Welcome to chapter 21. Thank you for staying with me for twenty whole chapters... my appreciation goes to you all!

Anyway, I think I'll start off by saying that I should be studying for my AP US History exam tomorrow. But since I never study for history tests anyway, I decided to write this instead. OH, and I think you all deserve to know that I did NOT fail AP Chemistry last quarter, yessssss.

Reviews and such are most welcome. As always. Good feedback and constructive criticism is always good to receive.

And believe it or not, I actually have started the Kyle POV of this story. It's entitled "Hope." Go check it out!

Stan always enjoyed solitude. It wasn't something he sought, but whenever the opportunity passed him he tended to relish and savor its presence. It offered a wonderful sense of tranquility, peace, and made any room a perfect cloister. It also provided a very quiet environment, which made excellent surroundings when he was trying to study, or even to reflect on life.

He seemed to pass this opportunity quite often. He remembered how he had had solitude the day he wrote the letter to God, the letter he still hadn't gotten a response from. He remembered how reflective he had been, yet also ignorant. How that day he had barely known anything except Kyle's coming out. He hadn't known yet how Kyle had liked him, or how it would affect many of his friendships, or how he viewed his friend, or how he viewed homosexuality in general, or even how strong he would believe in these rights. He hadn't known any of that on that night.

After that he had experienced some other moments of solitude. But the mood had been different. Each time he was reflecting over a different matter in his life... he remembered how he had been reflecting how they reacted to Kyle's situation... he remembered how he had said it would be fine, and was proven wrong by Cartman's stupid club. He remembered how he planned to break his relationship with Clyde another time, and how he evaluated the bonds he had with his friends. There was more of a reflective mood in those situations, more analytical, and more decisive.

Still, Stan had to admit that it was better to ponder of these things in the serenity of his room at night than at school, where he could barely hear himself think. School wasn't Stan's favorite place to be, though he argued that if Cartman were not there it wouldn't be so bad. Stan remembered how it hadn't been too long ago when it had been the four of them... Kyle, Kenny, Cartman, and himself. It had been so unexpected though... how Cartman suddenly broke away from the group, all because he learned that Kyle wasn't heterosexual. Sure, Stan knew of the existing rivalry between the two, but... Cartman had completely turned his views. Stan was beginning to think Cartman began the club just because it went against Kyle, much like his hatred towards Jewish people.

But now that Cartman was becoming so engrossed with his club Stan was beginning to worry. Cartman was capable of doing so much; he once hated a kid so much that he chopped up his parents and fed them to the boy. So far though Cartman had only planned things like beating people up after school, but the fact that there was a lack of schemes worth enough to have been created by masterminds only made Stan worry more. It would be soon now, Stan was sure, that something horrid would spew from Cartman's intelligent mind, and it wasn't a pleasing thought.

And of course, Stan was considering these things under the conditions of solitude. He was alone in his room, though it was still rather early. He was alone, yes, because his father was at his office to work on the sediment analysis once more, and his mother was at Tom's Rhinoplasty, where she worked. So while Stan normally found solitude in the nighttime, where mostly everyone was asleep, today he could actually ponder about his life while enjoying warming sunlight. He was lying on his bed, which had been newly fitted with blue and red bed sheets after Kyle had slept over, and he was staring at the ceiling for endless amounts of seconds, unsure how long he would be looking upwards.

If there was one thing that was omitted when referring to the usages of solitude it was that it could also be used to think of absolutely nothing. And so after Stan was done reflecting about Cartman's future intentions he decided to do... well, nothing. Or at least, think of nothing. He began staring at the inconsistencies of the ceiling, noticing the irregular patterns of the ridges on the white surface. He let his eyes wander, stopping occasionally to immerse himself in the upside down mountains that the ceiling formed. It was a weird way of relaxation, so to say, and it was definitely effective.

Except, of course, when a telephone decides to ruin the moment.

Stan groaned in frustration as he pulled himself away from his trance-like state to grab the telephone. Normally he would just let it ring, but the absence of his parents forced him to break his usual habit. He turned the phone on and spoke softly into the receiver.

"Hello?" Stan said politely.

"Hey Stan," came the voice on the other hand. Stan could recognize that voice anywhere.

"Hey Kyle, what's up?"

"Oh, I was just checking up on that thing we were doing tonight." Ah, of course... the get-together they were going to have that night. The boys had planned it the day before, and so far those plans remained. Stan felt bad that Clyde would not go; he had still been at the hospital when the plans were made, and when Stan had told Clyde during Geometry (he had come back to school just a bit before lunch) about his plans Clyde hadn't bothered to include himself in them.

"Have fun with your friends," he said. "You can't be around me all the time." And so that was what had happened. Stan had forgotten about these plans though, and so it had been a good thing that Kyle had called or else Stan would've stood them up entirely.

"I'll need a ride though," Stan muttered as he looked around his room. "If I have a ride I'll be good to go." He walked over to his closet and began looking for something to wear.

"That's cool," said Kyle from the other side of the phone. "I'll ask my mom to get you. She's getting Kenny anyway." Stan rummaged through several shirts on hangers. Relax, Stan told himself. It's just a get-together at Kyle's house. Not a date.

"When's your mom gonna come here?" Stan asked. He heard Kyle call over to his mother, and Stan turned to the clock to get ready for the response.

"She says like six," said Kyle, and as Stan glanced at the clock Kyle added, "which is roughly in an hour."

"Sounds good," said Stan. He returned to his closet continue picking some clothes. He stumbled upon a red-striped shirt, and he threw it on his bed. "Well I'll see you then, dude."

"Later," said the boy before Stan hung up. He tossed the phone on his bed to join his shirt and began scavenging for a pair of pants. He hated how he cared so much about how he appeared to other people. Still, he found himself a good pair of jeans and tossed him with the rest of his possessions.

There would be no solitude needed to reflect upon what to wear that night.

- - - - - - - - - -

Mrs. Broflovski had arrived reasonably on time that night, and Stan found himself piling into a car with Kyle and Kenny. Per his mother's request Kyle took the front seat, while the other two took the back seat. Throughout the ride the radio was playing, and though Stan appreciated music to break the silence the music was very outdated. Stan could only sit in his seat and wait out the ride.

Ike was already waiting at the door when the group arrived. He immediately rushed to Kenny's side of the door, almost jumping up and down as he opened the door for the boy. Stan wasn't too sure why Ike was so enthusiastic of having Kenny over, but he guessed that Kenny didn't mind; after all, it gave Kenny an opportunity to be around Kyle more. Stan frowned; Kenny was already in close relations with the Broflovski family, and Ike would probably want him with Kyle more than he wanted Stan. Still, Stan knew that he would always have Mrs. Broflovski's support, who didn't seem to like Kenny very much.

"Kenny!" squeaked Ike as he led the blonde inside. Kenny smiled sheepishly at Kyle and shrugged as he passed through the door. Next to leave the car was Mrs. Broflovski, who seemed to be hustling into the house. Stan waited on Kyle before entering the house.

"Mom was cooking something before we left," informed Kyle. "I'm just gonna guess that she smelled something burning..." The two proceeded to enter the house, and the sounds of Ike could already be heard throughout the house. Kyle gave a sigh. "Ike's really fond of Kenny. I guess he started bonding with him back at the hospital. But, every conversation has been like... 'I miss Kenny!' and 'When's Kenny gonna come over again?' and 'Mom, can I invite Kenny?' It's like... I dunno, like he's more obsessed over him that I am."

"Well are you?" Stan challenged, and the question had stopped Kyle from walking. There were always some things that were meant to be avoided, and though some were printed on flamboyant, red signs, others were not so obvious. Stan hadn't known the full effect of the question when he had asked, but as he looked at the other boy now he realized something about him.

Kyle was, if not entirely then just a bit, doubtful.

The boy shook violently for a few seconds and then merely proceeded to continue walking. To Stan it seemed that Kyle wanted to avoid the subject, and that he was merely shaking it off. A part of Stan wanted to respect that, yet at the same time he was indeed curious... curious of the answer to the question that he has asked. Maybe, just maybe, there was a chance that Kyle still wanted Stan...

"What did Clyde have that I didn't...?" The question he never answered.

"Do you love Kenny, Kyle?" The question Kyle never answered. It was definitely a two-way street. Still, Stan was curious, and as Kyle was about to turn the hall Stan called out; "Well? Are you?"

"Am I what?" replied the boy.

"Are you obsessed with Kenny?"

"It's none of your business if I am," snapped Kyle, swiveling to face Stan. Even from that distance Stan could see the fireballs that replaced the green in his eyes. If Kyle had not been clear of his desire to not speak of the subject, he most certainly did now. "Even if I wasn't, what would that be to you, Stan? How about you? Are you obsessed with Clyde? Huh?"

"I'm not," Stan muttered, causing Kyle to stop in his rather riled up speech. "I'm... not."

"That's good to know," said Kyle. "Now Stan, please, if you don't mind-"

"I do mind," muttered Stan, becoming more and more daring as each word was spoken. "I really want to know. Do you really love Kenny, Kyle?" The boy hung his head, though even with this Stan could still the tears coming upon his cheek. Kyle raised an arm to wipe his soft skin, and when he looked back up at Stan the fireballs were no longer in his eyes, as if the tears had quenched the flames. Instead he saw confusion, despair, and something perhaps that Stan had been looking for: hope.

"You asked me if I was obsessed with him," muttered Kyle. "Not if I loved him."

"Is there anyone you love more?" asked Stan, taking yet another step into a minefield.

"Stan, I... I can't answer these questions... I-"

"Why not?" interjected Stan. "You were the one who asked me what Clyde had that you didn't. Are you jealous or something, Kyle?"

"I'm NOT," protested Kyle, but Stan knew he was getting somewhere.

"Do you love Kenny?" Stan repeated once more, advancing towards the boy slowly.

"Stan-" Kyle began, shaking from head to toe.

"Do you?"

"STAN-"

"Do you?" Stan made one last step towards the boy, and without warning the red-haired boy took his left hand and made a half-circle swing into the area in front of him. Stan flinched as the backside of his hand met his cheek, and the boy could only hold on to his arm as if trying to undo the action. Kyle was now crying hysterically, while Stan was more shocked than anything else; then again, his boldness and persistence probably led him into deserving such an act.

"I'm so sorry," muttered Kyle, but before he could turn away Stan grabbed on to his shoulder.

"What Clyde has..." began Stan, still not letting go to Kyle's shoulder. "What Clyde has that you don't... Kyle, I don't even... know that answer..." Kyle refused to turn around to face Stan, and continued to have his back on him. Stan could still feel the boy shaking, as well as the stinging feeling on his face; Stan brought up his free hand to support the injury.

"So why him...?" Kyle whispered softly. "Why did you deny me and not him?"

"Kyle, I..." Stan did not expect the situation to be so revealing when he had initially acted bold and daring; the concept was something that generally came with such a situation, and the idea he missed it was due to his curiosity. "He just happened to ask second, Kyle... I mean, when you asked I didn't really know if I liked you... but when he asked, I felt bad turning down two people..."

"So you accepted him?" Kyle concluded, and Stan nodded. "So do you even love him then? Or was it something that you just felt obligated to do?"

"I..." Stan could hear the sounds of Ike in his room, and soon after followed Kenny's imitations of a woman that was unknown to Stan. "I don't... I've been trying to break up with him Kyle, I promise..."

"You promise?" repeated Kyle. "Why should you promise to me? How does that involve me?"

"Well..." began Stan, "...there's someone else I love more... someone that I only just realized I loved..." There was an awkward silence amongst the two, and it was only broken upstairs by Kenny imitating the woman's death. Stan let go of Kyle's shoulder, but the boy made no sign of movement. Instead, he took a deep breath and spoke.

"Stan, if it makes you feel any better I'm not obsessed with Kenny." This came as great news to Stan, who let a sigh of relief; however, it wouldn't remain to be this way for long. "But that doesn't mean I don't love him. Stan, I loved you. I still do. But you just... completely hurt me. And I took the hurt deep... normally I would run to you for comfort, but this time you had been the source of the pain. I ran to Kenny instead... and I found comfort in him. And he loves me. I love him. I don't want to have hurt from him just to be with you, the person who had originally caused that pain... I just couldn't do it." He stopped talking and turned around to face Stan. He did his best to look at the now hurt boy, but he couldn't put himself to making that direct eye contact. "I don't want to sound cruel, but... you lost your chance..."

Having the world crash down on you was a hard concept to grasp. In the figurative sense it was complex to comprehend, but in a more realistic sense it made sense. Standing underneath a waterfall and letting the water crash onto you was a similar concept, though the height of the water's drop would determine the actual force of the water. Dropping a book off a balcony produced a similar effect, and the more books you dropped the harsher the collision seemed. In a sense having the world crash down on you was a closely related concept. The more that fell on you, the more the situation hurt. The longer the pain was suspended in the air, the more it would hurt when it came back down. Simply put... it would hurt.

Stan nodded acceptingly to the rejection statement, and inside he began cursing his curiosity for influencing him to achieve such a result. It would normally be a time like this where solitude would most be needed, but in a situation like this, in the presence of Kyle and Ike and Kenny and Mrs. Broflovski, there was truly no place to be alone.

Especially when Mrs. Broflovski called for him immediately after talking with Kyle. He tried his best not to look sad about anything, and Kyle gave him an apologetic pat on the back before heading back upstairs. Stan approached the adult, who handed the phone to him.

"It's Clyde, dear," she said. "He says it's something important."

Fuck. Just the person he had to talk to. Not.

"Hello?" Stan whispered into the telephone.

"Stan," came the voice of Clyde, and by the sound of his voice he was also scared of something, or maybe nervous. "I have to talk to you... in person. Meet... erm, no that's- erm, meet me at Stark's Pond... now?" Stan frowned on his side of the phone, but didn't want to think too much into it. His mind was occupied enough.

"I'll be there in a few," said Stan. He hung up the phone and returned it to Kyle's mother. "I have to go somewhere, Mrs. Broflovski. I gotta go."

"Don't you want to say bye to my buhbie first?" she asked, but Stan shook his head.

"Just tell him I left on an emergency," said Stan, and he quickly rushed out the door. Clyde had seemed scared, frightened, nervous, and something was telling Stan that it wasn't a good sign. His mind kept switching back and forth, first from Kyle, and back to Clyde, and then once more to Clyde. To Stan it was pathetic; even after being rejected he was still thinking of him. Stan hustled some more, picking up to an impossibly slow jog as he trekked through the snow.

Soon the sight of the pond came into view, and Stan began to replay the moments they all had there. It had been where Kyle had came out to them, and it was also where Kenny had informed him of his being with Kyle... it was so centric around the Jewish boy, and it drove him to the brink of insanity.

Stan looked around the pond, could not find the boy anywhere. Stan sighed in dismay, looking everywhere along the pond. He frowned, curious as to where Clyde he could be. He sat against the familiar tree stump, buried his hands into his hands, and sank his head into them. He had screwed up badly, and Stan could only wallow in self-blame, and to search for ways to repair the mistake he had made. It would be the first time that using this solitude to reflect on life would be a bad idea.

He heard footsteps behind him, and Stan hoped them to belong to Clyde so that he could talk to him, and perhaps do so in a quick fashion (so he could escape the bitter wrath of the cold), but he instead found someone else, someone he did not want to see. His faced opened in shock as the figure raised his hand, a smirk developing on his face. Stan's gaze followed the boy's hand, and though he saw what was in his hand he was rooted to the ground; he could not budge

The boy was holding an aluminum bat, and with one vertical swing at full force Stan was out cold.

Wow... and so that's that! Chapter 22 is brutal, as I've said... be prepared... in the meanwhile review!