AN: First and foremost, many thanks to my lovely reviewers for the prologue; kyleisgod, Sweet Possum, Wolbachia, and Famous Living Dead. :3

Second of all, I don't own South Park. Duh.

This one is a bit shorter than the prologue, but that's because I have wayyyy too much material that I don't want to squeeze into just one chapter.

Enjoy. Or don't.

--

I've been wide awake since I hit the sheets roughly three hours ago, and show no signs of falling asleep.

I peer at the digital alarm clock conveniently placed a few inches away from my face. It reads exactly 12:56.

Fuck. I have school in nearly six hours.

The blinds are wide open, and peeking through the gaps between them is a giant, red-tinged moon. It's a beautiful, if not weird sight, but it's one of the things keeping me up besides the thoughts of Kyle nagging at my conscience for full attention. I've struggled for a while trying to push them to the back of my mind, to make them last priority. And my attempts so far have been futile.

I throw off the rumpled covers of my bed and kneel, pulling hard on the cord attached to the blinds. They fold up into each other, and I press up into the glass to get a better view. I see the multitude of other houses, illuminated by moonlight and surrounded by pines. At the very end of the row sits Kyle's house, strange and empty-looking with all the curtains drawn. I sigh subconsciously, and a voice in my head tells me, ' You are such a pussy.'

'Shut the hell up. I am not.' Another voice retorts.

'Look at you. You're arguing with yourself inside your head. You obviously—'

"I said, shut the hell up!" I growl irately.

No sooner than I realize I said that out loud and mutter "Shit," my door gets a severe beating by my oh-so-wonderful sister who just so happens to be visiting from college at the time. I reluctantly open it.

"TURRDDDD!" She screams, lunging forward violently. "I'm trying to sleep so SHUT THE HELL UP!"

Needless to say, Shelley hadn't changed much over the years besides the lack of headgear.

I send a furtive glance towards my parents' room, but they're oblivious as always.

" AAARGH!"

Shelly glares at me menacingly. I bite my lip and notice how weird it feels to be dangling a few feet above the ground.

"Okay. Okay." I quip.

She grunts.

"I'll... erm... shut up. I'm sorry. Can you put me down please?" I plead, trying my best to not do or say anything that would further incriminate me.

She takes her tight grip off of my collar and I fall to the ground with a thud. Despite me being taller and a hell of a lot heavier than her, she can still kick my ass.

She sends me one last glare and retreats to her room.

"Damn." I murmur, closing the door. I rub at the spot on my neck where it was dug into by her fingernails. I crawl over to the space between my bed and the oatmeal-colored carpet, and grope around until finally my hand finds a familiar picture. Clutching the laminated card in my fists, I maneuver over to my bed and bury myself under the sheets.

Okay, so... let's think.

My sister can beat me up effortlessly.

And I'm in drama club.

And so what if I enjoy NSync?

...Yeah, I am a pussy.

I shift my weight so I'm not facing the window anymore. The fiery red color reminds me of him a bit.

If he were here, looking out the window, he'd say something about it being physically impossible for there to be a red moon. He's that much of a nerd... but honestly, I love it. It's one of his odd redeeming qualities.

I don't care how much it reinforces my previous statement about being a pussy, I miss him...

It all started two months before my 15th birthday. Even then, I was already not as close to Kyle as I used to be. However, we still tried to make time for each other.

The first time I hung out with just him and Wendy, they clicked. At the time, Wendy was my girlfriend and Kyle was my best friend. After just one night of working on a science project together, they were inseparable. And who could blame them? They had identical political views, they both showed disdain for the fatass, and they were both incredibly scholarly. Most people with half a brain crave intelligent conversation, and although I have a whole brain, I couldn't always provide Kyle with that conversation.

After a while, I couldn't restrain myself from thinking there was something more than friendship lurking beneath the veneer of their constant study sessions and outings. Eventually, my best friend and girlfriend spent more time together than I did with either of them.

Still, for some reason, I asked no questions. Wendy stayed my girlfriend, and Kyle stayed my best friend. On my fifteenth birthday, Wendy and I lost our virginity to each other. At that point, I was amazed that Kyle hadn't beaten me to her.

It went on like this for months, until, finally, one Saturday morning, I lost it. I was a lunatic by then. Maybe it was the fact that it was right under my nose, maybe it was the people involved, or maybe it was the fact that up to the aforementioned Saturday, I had been constantly bottling up any emotions I had.

I wish I could say some overused, cliché phrase like "People just grow apart" in regards to us. But it's not true. We didn't "grow" apart. Age never affected us.

What did affect us, though, was a girl.