Disclaimer: I still don't own South Park, nor do I plan to.
Thank you to all of you who have favorited or followed or reviewed! All that positive feedback had me spinning. And most of it, I saw on Christmas. So thanks, guys! Merry Christmas to me. I get love.
I hope that this chapter does not disappoint.
Kenny's POV
Kyle has always been... an uptight person. Sure, he has the fieriest temper out of anyone I've met, but he is a pretty reserved guy. It's cute. Well, as cute as a guy can get. So when the prospect of Kyle being high came to mind, I imagined that he'd be nothing more than a mellow version of the Kyle I see every day.
I have never been so fucking wrong.
"Kyle, please... Please stop touching my laptop." Stan's expression was one of pure horror. Kyle had unplugged the laptop from the charger and climbed on top of the desk. At Stan's plea, Kyle burst in to laughter. Again. "Kyle, stop laughing! This isn't funny!" Stan tried to climb onto the desk as well, but Kyle pushed him back off with his foot each time.
"Oops!" Kyle pretended to drop the laptop for the fourth or fifth time. When Stan lunged for the un-dropped thing, Kyle laughed even harder. I stood leaned against a wall, watching the show with the utmost entertainment.
"This isn't a joke!" Stan grabbed Kyle's foot, lost his balance and pulled Kyle off the desk. Laptop in hand. "Jesus Christ!" Stan hesitated too long to catch either Kyle or his laptop. I leaped across the room and caught the laptop before it hit the ground. Kyle was not so lucky. He fell face first onto the floor. We both stopped and looked at him, not sure what to do.
"Kyle?" I asked and took a step forward. He rolled onto his back, eyes wide.
"Are you all right, dude?" Guilt rang in Stan's voice.
"That was..." Kyle shook his head and sat up. "Freaking sweet."
"What?" Stan and I spoke in unison. Kyle pointed at the laptop I held in my hands.
"How'd you do that?" He asked, speaking much slower than usual. He dragged his words out long enough to where they were almost difficult to understand. Kyle shook his head again, seeming unfazed by the fall. "You're so fast!" I shrugged and offered the laptop to Stan. Stan didn't notice and, instead, turned his attention to Kyle.
"It sounded like you whacked your head pretty hard on the chair, or maybe it was the drawer..." Stan muttered the last bit to himself before going on. "Are you all right?" He asked again and knelt by Kyle's side.
"My head hurts, but I'm fine." Kyle placed a hand on the back of his head. Stan bit his lip and moved Kyle's hand away.
"Do you want like, ice or something?" Stan asked. I gritted my teeth and looked away. Kyle looked so grateful for the stupid offer. Ice? Stan pulled him off the fucking desk and Kyle was oggling him like he had grown fucking wings because he offered Kyle a bag of fucking ice!
I was pissed. I'd had the choice between catching Kyle or catching the laptop. Because I chose the laptop, Stan got to be all fucking tender and check for a knot on the back of Kyle's head while I stood holding a fucking piece of plastic. I shut it and sat it on Stan's desk before taking to Kyle's side myself. I couldn't shake the frustration and could not think of a reason why I was so frustrated. Kyle would have had it in for him had the laptop been broken.
"Where did it go?" Kyle looked around the room, confusion clear on his face.
"What?" Stan asked.
"The laptop!" He looked toward me.
"It's on Stan's desk." I answered. Kyle was visibly astonished.
"It's like magic." He blinked a few times and stood up.
"Uh, maybe you want to sit back down." Stan glanced between his desk and Kyle, probably worried that Kyle would threaten the life of another helpless piece of technology.
"Hey." Kyle grabbed the doorknob and turned back to us.
"What?" Stan asked.
"I'm hungry." Kyle answered.
"I know." Stan muttered. Kyle had mentioned being hungry at least ten times in the past half hour. Tormenting Stan only distracted him for a short while.
"I bet Shelley has leftovers." Kyle leaned against the door. It wasn't shut all the way, so he wound up nearly falling again. Fortunately, the door shut before he could wipe out. The look of shock on his face nearly floored me with laughter.
"No, Kyle!" Stan pried Kyle off the door and ushered him back to the middle of the room. "You need to stay in here."
"Why?" Kyle
"Because um..." Stan looked to me for some excuse. His parents had come home earlier than expected and he was nearly panicking worrying about how to get Kyle out the door without his parents noticing that Kyle was stoned. "Kenny will miss you too much if you go." He shoved Kyle toward me and mouthed 'I'll be back in a minute.' Kyle tripped again, so I caught him.
I was then left in a room alone with a very high Kyle. A very high Kyle who had yet to let go of me. I looked down at him. Even with dilated pupils and bloodshot eyes, he was still a pleasant sight.
"It's too bad that you're a fucking guy." I figured that Kyle would eventually let go on his own. There was no need to make him. It wasn't like he was bothering anyone.
"Why?" Kyle laughed and put his head against my arm.
"What are you laughing about now?" It was hard to make sense of him, but he said something about the word 'why' and saying it more than once. "It's hard to understand you when you're talking into a fucking coat." This launched him into a fit of laughter.
"So why is it bad that I'm a guy?" He asked again. Stan interrupted my answer with his entrance. I couldn't keep from frowning when Kyle pulled away.
"Here. I brought you uhh..." He sprawled the miniature feast out on the floor. There were a few bags of chips, bread, and peanut butter. And what appeared to be a half eaten bag of licorice.
"You're the best, dude." Kyle grinned. "Dig in, guys!" He tossed me a bag of chips and tossed the licorice to Stan. The three of us sat and ate. Kyle led the conversation for a while. I would like to recite it, but frankly, I couldn't follow it for the life of me. The conversation went from chip production to some string theory back to chips to auto-tuned music.
Things settled down after a while. Kyle seemed to have lost his initial idea of picking on Stan. Instead, he fucking glued himself to Stan's side. If it had been literally, I wouldn't have been as pissed as I was. After Kyle had stumbled onto the topic of romance novel cliches, Stan and Wendy's relationship came up again.
Kyle had managed to prop himself against Stan's side at some point. I assumed it had been when I turned my attention from them to a magazine. Though Stan and I laughed it off as my interest in the bathing suit clad women, I was trying to keep my eyes off of them. I'm not that hot on the idea of being pissed off, so I didn't feel like tormenting myself by watching the two.
Through the night, every time Kyle and Stan would interact, I'd find myself gritting my teeth and muttering under my breath. I couldn't explain the agitation. I halfheartedly decided it was because I was bored of their repetitive conversations, but conversations with Kyle weren't repetitive. Even if they were with Stan. Nothing against the guy, he's just a bit one-tracked. I tuned back in on their conversation and was rewarded with justification for my insult to Stan's conversation ability.
"I don't know. I don't get it. Why would Wendy cheat on me?" Stan sighed.
"She wouldn't cheat on you, dude. And if she did, then she's totally retarded. You're the best, really." Though his eyes were practically closed, it was clear that he was speaking genuinely. I muttered to myself and pretended I cared about the magazine again. I was tired of the "praise Stan for fucking walking" speeches. Kyle had named off just about every compliment in the book. Never before had I wanted Cartman there so badly. Had he been there, he could've called the two gay and ended it there. Instead, the fucking love fest went on.
"Tch." Stan hid his smile by making a face. He wrapped an arm around Kyle. "Come on. You need to go to bed."
"I'm serious, dude!" Kyle straightened up a bit, but wobbled when he did. "Anyone would be lucky to have you. I mean it." Though Stan didn't respond, he smiled. I gritted my teeth and pretended not to care that the two decided to share a bed or that Kyle borrowed Stan's clothes. I lifted the magazine to where it was all but pressed against my nose. By the time the two had finished getting ready for bed, I thought my jaw would break.
"Hey Kenny, you can crash here tonight. It's getting late." Stan motioned toward the clock.
"That's fine. I'll see you guys tomorrow."
"You sure?"
"Positive." I fought to keep my voice from showing my frustration.
"All right. See you tomorrow, dude."
"Dude, it's late." Kyle sat up. "You shouldn't be walking around at night."
"I'll be fine. See you guys tomorrow." Though Kyle's concern made me happy, it didn't change my mind. I couldn't be in there for another minute. The minute I was out the door and far enough from the house to risk being overheard, I pulled the strings on my parka until my face was almost completely hidden by the thick fabric and shouted at the top of my lungs. I walked, shouting incoherent things until I was out of breath. "Why don't they just fuck each other already..." I stopped in my tracks, surprised by my own words.
Suddenly it made sense. Why I had been irritable all night. I was jealous. And it sure as hell was not just over the "super best friend" status.
"Oh fuck. Fuck fuck fuck." I grabbed my hooded hand and started walking again. If I was jealous of Stan and Kyle, that meant that... "Fuck no." I looked around the empty streets, almost hoping that some punk would jump out and provide a much needed distraction from my thoughts. No distraction was there, save for falling snow. After growing up in South Park, that hardly constituted itself as anything spectacular, though.
"All right, look." I was talking to myself and didn't care. "You've been spending too much fucking time with Kyle. That's it." I let out a breath and pocketed my hands. "Shit."
Kyle's POV
I woke up at Stan's house feeling worse than I could ever remember feeling. My head was pounding, my vision was blurry, but the worst part of it was the irrefutable need to barf. I nearly knocked Stan out of his bed climbing over him to make a mad dash to the bathroom. We were both lucky I knew the path so well, because I barely made it. When I'd sufficiently emptied out everything I'd eaten in the past month, I head Stan muttering something behind me.
"Huh?" I turned my head. That was a bad idea. I had to turn back and puke up everything from the month before too.
"Oh uh, I just asked if you were feeling okay." Stan's discomfort would've made me laugh if I wasn't hoping the ceiling would come crashing down and kill me. My only answer to him was puking more. "I'll uh, take that as no."
The rest of the morning passed in a kind of daze. Stan had dug up a spare toothbrush and let me make camp in his bathroom. Shelley's yelling all but killed me, but eventually Stan convinced her to use the other bathroom. I can't remember much other than that. I'd fall asleep, wake up, barf, go back to sleep. Stan would come in every so often with water and aspirin.
When evening hit, I was mostly better. I did the best job I could of disinfecting Stan's bathroom before I showered and found Stan sitting at his desk with his laptop.
"Hey." Stan jumped when I spoke and turned around, looking horribly guilty. "What's up?" I rose an eyebrow. His expression changed, though it looked as if it took effort.
"Sweet! You're not dead." He grinned and rose to his feet. "You want something to uh, wear?" I nodded and he moved to rummage through his dresser until he found something for me.
"Thanks." I motioned for him to turn away when I changed. When done, I slung the towel over my arm and leaned against the wall. The headache wasn't gone, and the idea of food still made my stomach churn, but I was dozens of times better than I was several hours ago. "Man, that was brutal." I looked toward the wrappers of food that lay where they had been left the night before. None of it seemed like anything that could cause any sort of food poisoning. "You and Kenny feeling all right?"
"Oh uh, yeah. We're great."
"Huh." I dropped onto Stan's bed and let out a breath. Silence stretched between the two of us. Stan stood awkwardly in the middle of the room. I figured I knew what it was about. "Sorry about last night." I lowered my head. "Is your laptop all right? If it's not, I can fix-"
"No, dude. It's fine. Kenny caught it, remember? Not a dent." He pointed toward the thing open on his desk. His email was pulled open, but judging by the looks of the screen, he hadn't checked the mail in weeks. It was pretty clear that he'd been looking at something else earlier. I wasn't planning to question him. I really didn't want to know what he was looking at that had him avoiding eye contact.
"Right." Again, silence consumed the conversation.
"So, by any chance, do you feel at all, I don't know, paranoid or um, like unusually energetic or lethargic?"
"What?" Stan avoided eye contact at my question.
"I was just reading something about-"
"Stan." I crossed my arms over my chest. I wasn't in the mood to deal with Stan's indirectness.
"Well, okay, so..." Stan started and shifted his weight. "It's just that, so..." He made a face. "Aww man, Kenny and I decided not to tell you, but-"
"Dude! What's going on? Is someone like, dead or something?"
"No! No, it's nothing like that. It's just that, well, okay. So you know that brownie Kevin gave you?"
"Yeah."
"Well, it was um... It was a... It had weed in it." Stan looked nervously between me and the floor. My jaw dropped.
"You mean..." I opened and shut my mouth.
"Yeah. You were pretty high." Stan wrung his hands and glanced toward his phone. "We didn't want to tell you in case you'd freak out, but now that you're sober-"
"Dude!" I jumped up. Another bad decision. My head throbbed. I held my head in my hands and groaned.
"Totally weak, right? I'd totally kick Kevin's ass if I were you." Stan still seemed uncomfortable.
"Is there something you're not telling me? I mean, is there anything else I should know?"
"No! It's just..." Stan rocked his head back and forth. "I feel like a total ass for making you eat that. I seriously didn't know there was anything wrong with it until Kenny told me."
"Kenny knew?"
"No! Karen texted him, but he got the text too late."
"Oh, well, that explains the way Kevin was acting." I sighed and sat again.
"So you're not mad?" Stan asked. His eyes brightened.
"No way, dude. I'm pissed at Kevin, but I'd rather keep my teeth and not like, try to do something about it." I laughed. Stan nodded in agreement.
"If you want to, though, let me know! I could take him."
"Sure. And that's why your sister bullies you." I grinned. Stan punched me in the arm.
"Shut up, dude!"
"So like, nothing else happened?"
"Aside from you wiping out half my pantry and saying lots of weird shit, nah." Stan motioned toward the wrappers and I laughed. "You want a ride home? I can't imagine you feel like walking."
"Yeah, that'd be great. Thanks." I hadn't brought anything other than my coat and clothes, so it didn't take much time to get everything together. "Did Kenny make it back all right?"
"Huh? Probably."
"You didn't text him?" I asked. I pulled my phone out of my coat pocket. There were a few texts from my mom. I cringed. I'd be hearing about that later. "Uh, vouch for me when I say I got the flu."
"Sure."
"Thanks. Did Kenny text you?" I didn't have any messages from him. Normally I'd text him or make him text me if he left too late at night. Crime rates weren't that high, but Kenny didn't live in the greatest part of town. If a crime did happen, it'd be a lot more likely to happen near his place.
"No. I'm not his mother." Stan laughed and grabbed his car keys.
"Hm." I would've responded better, but I was busy typing up a quick message. I deleted it a few times before deciding on something casual.
'Dude. Hangovers suck.'
I didn't want him to know that I was texting him to make sure he was still alive. Something told me that would send off a weird vibe. I didn't get a response. That bugged me. Normally he wrote back within a minute or two.
"Ready to go?"
"Yeah." I made sure the volume was up on my phone before throwing it back in my pocket.
"I wonder what Cartman wound up doing."
"You mean after he nearly got us killed? Seriously, I'm kicking his ass next time I see him." I checked my phone again. Still no response.
"No way, dude. I called dibs."
"When?"
"One, two, three, dibs!" Stan grinned and pressed the pedal to the floor in order to make it through the yellow light.
"Asshole." I looked out the window. That had to end soon. All the movement was making my head hurt. It was only ten minutes since I'd messaged him, but his lack of response bothered me. "Are you guys planning anything tonight?"
"I don't know. Maybe the movies. Why? You up to going out?" Stan turned toward me. "Not that I don't want you there. You just look about as green as your hat."
"Weekends don't come often enough." I lied. I wanted to go home and sleep until Monday came around.
"I'll drop by Kenny's place now." Stan turned and drove the familiar road to Kenny's place. When he pulled up, he honked three times. Somehow, that had become the signal for Kenny to know Stan wasn't planning on coming in.
"You could call, you know." I covered my ears. Stan stopped in mid shrug.
"Sorry dude, forgot about the hangover." I was relieved to see Kenny open the door. He walked easily toward the car up until I waved. His expression changed for a second and his gait lost its ease. "Hey Kenny! Want to go to the movies? Cartman's treat."
"What're you seeing?" Kenny asked. He'd walked around to the driver's side even though the passenger's side, the side I was sitting in, was closer.
"High School Musical 3 might have an encore."
"Fuck that shit!" Stan laughed.
"I don't know, man. You coming or not?"
"Yeah, sure." Kenny opened the door and slid into the backseat.
"Hey Kenny." I turned around in my seat to see him better.
"Hey." He looked out the window.
"Are your parents back?" His standoffish behavior was starting to get to me. I wanted to break into some kind of conversation. Stan had been awkward earlier. Maybe he was feeling bad about the whole marijuana brownie thing.
"Yeah." His answer was abnormally short. I wanted to question him on it, but he refused to look away from the window. I shot a look to Stan, but Stan didn't understand the unspoken question. Did I do something to piss Kenny off? The only reason the ride to Cartman's place wasn't unbearable was because Stan turned on the radio. Though every time the drums sounded, I thought my head was going to explode, I didn't say anything.
Once or twice, maybe three times max, I'd look in the mirror to see what Kenny was doing. The first time, he was looking out the window. The next time, we made eye contact via the mirror. All the other times, he was looking at the floorboards, cheeks red. Stan stopped in front of Cartman's house and honked three times.
"Oh shit! Sorry, Kyle." Stan held a hand to his head and looked apologetic. I motioned to say I didn't care.
"Hey Kenny?" I leaned over the back of my seat. I was going to force him to talk to me whether he liked it or not. He looked up, but I never got a chance to say anything. Cartman's voice drowned out every other sound. By the time Cartman had shut up, Kenny wouldn't look at me again.
"What's your problem, Jew-fag?" Cartman kicked the back of my seat.
"Food poisoning, fatass." I answered. Stan covered for me and took my place in bickering with Cartman while I sat sulking against the seat of the car. What had I done? Why wouldn't Kenny even look at me? Stan must have been keeping something from me. I had to have done something.
This thought bothered me through the rest of the ride to the movies.
A/N: Agh. I hope I did not rush into the "confession of feelings" thing too soon. I was planning on dragging out the "I might like him I might not" thing a bit longer. I don't know. Let me know what you think.
Also, I don't know very much about the ins and outs of getting high. I mean, I've been around plenty of high people, but I didn't ask them what it felt like or how bad their hangovers were. I am going off of like, Yahoo Answers. So I apologize for things not being factual.
I am also sorry if this is like, to rushed. Agh. I don't know. I worry about this. Like, the plot-ish thing is getting introduced and I don't know. So yeah. I hope that you enjoyed this chapter and that you will want to see more! Happy holidays, fellas.