Yeah, I sort of wanted to do a second chapter for Kyle. So, yeah. I may or may not do one for Stan. C: Read and review!
I don't know, dude. I just don't.
I know a lot of things. I know math. I know vocabulary. I know science. I know that I'm a straight A student.
But I don't know why he kissed me.
Listen, I may be educated in academics, and I may have a good grip on what is morally right and what is just wrong. When it comes to matters of the heart, though, I have no clue. I'm sort of romantically handicapped.
That sounds so gay.
It's true though.
Before, I was positive that Stan was in love with Wendy. Sometimes they would break up, and I would be angry with her until the appropriate amount of time passed and then they would get back together. It was like this since the third grade, but happened less and less often as we got older.
Maturity does that, I guess.
I liked Wendy enough, too. Sure, we didn't always see eye to eye, but she was my friend. I mean, if she's the girlfriend of my super best friend, then of course she'd be my friend.
I was really jealous, though.
That sounds weird.
Wait.
I wasn't jealous of either of them specifically. I was jealous that they each had someone, you know? I almost felt like I wasn't ever going to have something like that. When girls liked me, I never really got the hint. When I liked a girl, I guess I would always be too subtle. So there was always this back and forth and I hardly got anywhere with anyone.
Since I was fairly sure that romantic feelings don't come out of nowhere, I couldn't exactly pinpoint when before I started to think of him that way. I've just always sort of found Stan attractive. He was. Black hair and bright eyes and a friendly smile. I didn't really notice him though.
Well, I guess I sort of did.
I'm so gay.
Still, I didn't even know that I liked him that way until he kissed me.
We were at a party at Token's (his parents were away), and we'd been drinking a little bit. I couldn't drink too much since my tolerance wasn't the best and I didn't want to do too much to my blood sugar. He didn't want me to feel left out, so he didn't drink nearly as much as he would have if he'd come alone.
I sort of noticed that he'd been staring at me as I was talking to him about Kenny's latest sexual adventures with a few of the girls from our school. Not in the normal "I'm listening to you" way, though. It was sort of detached, like he was deep in thought about something.
When I asked him what was up, he kissed me. His eyes were shut tight, his face was red, and he was kissing me.
I didn't know what to do, so I just sort of froze up. I couldn't imagine what I must have looked like, but I felt like a teacher just asked me a question that I didn't know the answer to.
I guess on some level, that's essentially what Stan was doing. Asking me a question that I didn't know the answer to.
When Stan's closed eye expression turned disappointed and he started to move away, I sort of lost my composure and went wild.
Though I mean that in the gayest way possible.
All of a sudden I was pulling him back, my tongue was down his throat, my eyes were closed, and my hands were on his shoulders.
But he shoved me away. I knocked this poor guy into the girl he was talking to. I'm pretty sure that he spilled his beer all over her. I told him that I was sorry, it must have been a million times. Stan had just finished throwing up on some other dude's feet and he stood and grabbed my arm and dragged me out of there before either of the guys tried to punch either of us.
He walked me home and we didn't really talk about what just happened. I think he was just sort of tipsy and I had taken it too far.
He threw up, dude.
After that, though, things were normal. I mean, mostly normal. He didn't act weird around me. We didn't avoid each other, and both of us were fine with being alone with one another. Every once in a while, though, we'd make eye contact and he'd look away too quickly.
Eventually, he came to my house in the middle of the night, through the window, and woke me up by laying next to me in my bed. I was confused and he was crying.
He totally spilled everything, starting with telling me that Wendy was going to Harvard and wanted to break up with him after graduation. He went on to repeat how much he loved her, how he couldn't imagine not being able to get back together with her. He started spouting possible things he could have done to make her angry with him. Through out all of this, all I could do was hold him with one arm and let him cry into my shoulder.
I think I cried a little too. It must have been a combination of Stan's despair over this and the fact that he hadn't mentioned my name at all. I guess I sort of wanted him to feel something after our weird kissing thing.
Stupid. And gay. Yeah, I know.