There was a loud banging at the door, Stan groaned. "The fuck time is it?" he fumbled blindly for his cell phone on the bedside table.

||10:30|| shone at him as he squinted at the blinding light. He sighed and let his head drop heavily back onto the pillow. The banging started up again. "Go away!" he shouted throatily, voice cracking from sleep.

The bedroom door creaked open and Kyle stuck his curly-haired head in the doorway. "Get the fuck up." He said plainly. "Your girl dumped you. That sucks. But you've been shut up in here for nearly a week. You have thirty minutes to get cleaned up or I'm dragging your ass out of the house in your boxers. And I'm positive you smell like death." With that said Kyle ducked quickly out of the room, just as Stan launched a pillow at where his head used to be.

Stan sat on the edge of his bed and scratched his head, causing his ink-black hair to stick out at science fiction angles. He stood up, yawning, and shuffled over to his drawers. He grabbed some jeans and a dark blue t-shirt. He gave the shirt a quick sniff test before deeming it suitable for use. He scooted a cross the hallway and into the bathroom, catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He grimaced and rubbed his slightly stubbled chin. 'Yup. Definitely over due for a shower, maybe a haircut too.' He shook his head, shagging out his hair so it slightly covered his eyes. "Nah."

Kyle was sitting at the kitchen table making small talk with Mrs. Marsh when Stan finally made his way into the room.

"What a transformation!" Kyle exclaimed jokingly, a grin playing across his lips. "Almost human!" Stan grumbled at him as his mother slid a bowl of cornflakes over to him. He picked up the spoon and let the cereal gloop back into the bowl.

"Can't I have a poptart?" He asked, pushing the so-called breakfast away.

"We're out. Now eat Stanley." Sharon barked at him and walked out of the kitchen.

Stan sighed and pulled the bowl back over; he glanced at Kyle, who was grinning like the Cheshire cat. "She's menopausing." He grumbled and ate the questionably textured cereal. Kyle sniggered at the comment.

"Why are you here Kyle?"

"To cheer your mopey ass up, dude." The redhead drummed his nails on the table. "Can't let my best friend waste his summer."

Stan shoved a spoonful of gloop in his mouth, "Wasn't wasting it."

"Bullshit. You would have emoed out in your room for the next three months if I hadn't stepped in."

Stan rolled his eyes but said nothing, finishing up breakfast.

"You, me, and the guys are going to hang out." He narrowed his deep green eyes at Stan when Stan made a move to protest. "No excuses. This is our last summer. We gotta make it count."
Kyle stood up and straightened his hoodie. "C'mon, the fatass and Kenny are waiting on us."

Fifteen minutes later Stan and Kyle were walking up the small hill to Starks Pond. Kenny and Cartman were already there, standing under an evergreen tree. Kenny was making obscene hand motions and Eric was doubled over, laughing so hard his face was nearly purple. He was the first to see the two approaching; he righted himself and whipped his eyes. " 'Bout damn time you guys showed up."

Kenny turned around and mock saluted his friends. "Sup! You guys missed one helluva story." He rubbed his hands together deviously. "I can retell it if you like."

"Dude, Kenny, no. It was sick." Cartman shook his head, chuckling.

They went and sat on some logs by the pond. Kyle sat back and looked at his friends, and Cartman. Kenny leant forward and began his story again. Kyle was only half listening.

In a few months they would be splitting off and going to college. Kenny was going to an art school in Denver, being from a poor family, and with only one parent living, he had been given quite a few scholarships.

Kenny's father had died of liver failure a few years back, but his mother had turned it around. She quit drinking and smoking, got a job, and received a nice check from the government every month. Even their house didn't look so disheveled anymore.

Kenny fit the part of an art student all right. Hair was still dirty blonde, a bit long and wispy, but it worked for his face. He wasn't very tall maybe 5'8" with a lean build. His jeans were usually old and faded, maybe with a hole in them here or there.

God only knows how Eric had gotten into college. But he was going into Political Science. Some school in Texas, Kyle didn't really bother to pay attention when he was talking about it.

Eric was still fat. But getting taller had evened him out some. He kept his mousy brown hair cut short, I was easier to deal with, and Cartman was definitely lazy. His mother was still single, and continued her questionable way of earning money, which Eric was defensive and in denial about still.

Kyle had been accepted into one of the top Law schools in the country. His excellent grades and SAT scores insured he could have his pick of any school he wanted. Law ran in the family, and his mother would have no less from him.

He and Kenny were at odds as to who was taller, he insisted he was and that's all that mattered. He ran a hand through thick red curls that hung loosely around his face. He looked over to Stan.

Stan was going to a State University. College didn't interest him much. But his parents insisted. He wasn't sure what his major would be yet.

At 6'1" Stan was the tallest in the group, he had a thin athletic build from playing soccer in high school. He had an easy going grin on his face, and he laughed uproariously at Kenny's Story. God, Kyle was going to miss him. Best friends since before he could remember, and it was all going to change once summer ended.

"Like fried eggs hanging on a nail." Kenny concluded, cupping his hands and swinging them like a pendulum at about navel level.

"Dude! Fucking sick!" Stan exclaimed, laughing.

They hung around the pond a bit longer before heading off to Shakey's Pizza for lunch; then video games and vegging out at Cartman's house.

After hours of Mortal Kombat 9 fights, the boys laughing at the highly graphic finishing moves, and quite a few of those caused them to guard their crotches and wince. It was definitely time to call it a night.

Kyle dropped Kenny off at home first and then started to take Stan home.

"Alright dude, spill it. You've been quiet all night." Stan said, fixing his gaze on his friend.

"Just been thinking." Kyle replied ambiguously.

Stan raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

"Things are really going to change, end of summer. What if we won't be friends anymore? What if I never see you again?"

Stan laughed. "You're over thinking this. We'll keep in touch."
"How do you know?" They were at a red light and Kyle met Stan's eyes. "What about everything we've been through, all the fun we've had." The light changed and Kyle drove on.

"I didn't know you were so sentimental." Stan grinned; a day with friends had made him feel worlds better. Also taking built up frustrations out on video game characters never hurt.

"I'm serious, Stan!"

"Alright, alright." Stan held his hands up in surrender. They pulled into Stan's driveway.

"I should start charging you cab-fair." Kyle joked, trying to lighten the air.

"Yeah right, dude. I'll buy you lunch sometime. How about that?" Stan grinned and punched Kyle in the shoulder. "Don't worry, Kyle. Nothing will change."

Stan got out of the car and went inside, giving Kyle a wave from the doorway.

'What if I want it to?' Kyle thought as he drove home. He pulled into the driveway, parked, and made his way inside. Kicking off his shoes. "I'm home!" He announced to a quiet house, and made his way upstairs. 'Everyone must be asleep.'

He pulled out an old photo album, as he got ready for bed. Flipping through memories of growing up. He flashed past pictures of all four of them in various acts of shenanigans. Pictures of them dressed as ninja's, detectives, and laundry service owners. He paused at a picture of Stan and him, arms around each other's shoulders, grinning like fools at the camera. Kyle sat down on his bed and traced the picture. He sighed and closed the book, hand resting on the soft leather cover. He looked out his bedroom window, lost in thought.

"I wonder what would happen if I told him?" He placed the album on his desk and slipped between cool sheets; turning off his bedside lamp. 'Should I tell him?' he thought as sleep pulled him under.

*/A.N/*

Hooray another chapter, this one slightly longer this time! We're just getting started and do I have quite an adventure planned out for you. Stay tuned.

*/A.N/*