The next day they were in school. Classes refused them any time together and when Stan was sitting in Global History he could only reminisce. He remembered how Kenny had entered with a look so sincerely concerned and told him how Kyle had apparently asked for him in his time of illness. That made his heart throb in pain against his chest. His heart had been leaking since he left Kyle's house the other day. It practically begged him to end his currently painful existence, but he knew this would pass. Or…at least he hoped it would. He looked around the room, his chin rested comfortably in his palm. He looked around the room at all of these pathetic, lonely people. He had never known them to be lonely; they all had family, they all had friends, but they didn't have friends like Kyle. And that made them lonely to Stan.

To Stan it appeared as a room of blank children watching a blank man teach them about faceless, blank people. Stan's eyes widened in horror as he looked to the somehow muted blank man at the front of the room. Was he one them now? Was he blank, faceless and alone? Without Kyle…without Kyle…

He looked to the clock, a strange panic striking him; he wanted to run. He didn't know why, he just felt like leaving someone in the dust. Perhaps to move his jittery yet stiff muscles, or to give him something to distract him from the pain. The image of running made him remember Kyle. Kyle had started track at the end of elementary school and he had been hooked ever since. Always running when he had the chance; his legs had grown strong, but thin. His body was still somewhat boney, thin and still kind of pale despite the amount of sun he got running outside during the year. He remembered one occasion when he had gone to see Kyle run. Kyle didn't invite him; Kyle hadn't wanted Stan to come. He was embarrassed in the short, shiny shorts he had to wear and the long embarrassing socks with color-coordinated sweatbands.

He tried to recall the hour, the day, maybe the month, but he couldn't. He didn't really care either. He did remember, however, the bob of Kyle's curls as he sped by. He remembered the slight chill in the air; ice plotted randomly around the track created a fog for Kyle's breath. Kyle's eyes were sharp and seemed a smokier version than usual and they seemed dry. The wind that Kyle created with his speed rushed through his silk curls and his long lashes; ran against his cold face and weakened his knees, but he kept running. Stan wondered why. The cold must have hit him like thousands of little needles along his frame, the cold air must have filled his lungs painfully and his eyes must have wished for eye drops but he continued to run. Kyle's cheeks were plastered with blotches of red here and there, his nose matched the rosy shade and his chest pumped the icy air in and out and it tortured Stan to simply watch.

Kyle kept running, though. To this day he ran that track, no matter how cold or painful it may be. Stan realized then that he was proud. Kyle was brave.

"Mr. Marsh?"

Stan looked up to the blank man before him just as the bell rang and he quickly exited without a second glance. He happily jogged off to lunch. He saw the table he usually sat at which held Cartman, Kenny, Kyle, Butters, Token, Wendy, Bebe, Clyde, Craig, Pip, Heidi, and Esther. Stan joined them eagerly, awaiting a filling lunch. He sat down, settling his books on the table, but the moment he was about to start a conversation with Cartman and Kenny who sat opposite of him Wendy sat directly next to him. She was shoulder to shoulder with him and handed him a folded piece of paper. He recognized it as a passing-note and wondered why she couldn't simply tell him what it was she wanted to say, but he knew girls worked in mysterious ways and did not argue. She smiled and ran her hand suggestively down his arm before returning to the group of girls she usually hung around on the other side of the table.

He opened it up and it smelled of sweet perfume. It informed him that she wanted to see him this week. She did not want to speak about it in front of anyone, though, as she was currently dating one of the extremely sensitive Goth kids and would probably be followed if someone heard that she was going to meet up with Stan. She set up dates at the bottom of the paper for him to circle and told him to hand it back to her at the very end of the lunch period.

"What'd she give you?" Cartman asked suspiciously

Stan looked to the fat boy and snarled, "As if it's any of your business, fat ass."

"I'm not fat, I'm big-boned!"

"marnflughtehjuh" Kenny chuckled

Stan laughed and added, "Yeah, you're mom's a slut, Cartman."

"SHUT UP, FAGGOTS!"

Stan then saw something he had never noticed before and it made him want to laugh and cry. He saw Cartman's expression melt, his scowl sank into a shy pout, his eyes softened and he flustered ever so lightly as Kyle sat down next to him. Kyle opened one of his notebooks and began working away on math equations; wearing his thick-rimmed glasses that constantly slid down his nose since they broke them the year before. He sighed as he would turn away every few moments and type loudly on a calculator so quickly it was hard to follow his fingers. Stan saw for the first time in all this time…Cartman was mesmerized by their scrawny Jewish friend…for some reason Stan was angry. He didn't know why, it wasn't as if Kyle was his or anything. It wasn't as if he could call dibs on Kyle; maybe it wasn't anger, but shock that all the ridiculing was out of infatuation. It made Stan green with envy, though.

He needed to speak out, somehow show how angry he was…

"Uhm, dude, why the hell are you ogling Kyle?" Stan seethed to Cartman

Cartman turned beet red and roared, "What?! You faggot! I'm not ogling Kyle! He's usin' his Jew-magic on me! I swear, I didn't know!"

Kyle turned to Cartman with a glare and retorted, "There's no such thing as Jew-magic, asshole!"

Cartman turned to Kenny and muttered loudly enough for Kyle to hear, "See? He's tryin' to hypnotize me with his Jew-magic."

Kyle growled and shouted again, "Shut up, fat boy!"

"EY! I'm not fat! I'm big-boned!"

"marnflughtehjuh" Kenny interjected

Kyle laughed and said, "Heh…yeah, you're mom's a slut, Cartman."

"SHUT UP!"

Stan looked to Wendy, then to Kyle and asked softly and awkwardly, "Uhm…did you do something?"

Kyle looked up to him, then to Wendy and he replied, "I really didn't have to do much to convince her."

Stan flustered and told him, "Thanks…this means a lot."

Kyle blushed a little before he pushed the arch of his glasses further up his nose and told him, "It's really no problem…really, don't mention it."