The entire first month of sixth grade was insane. Middle school was confusing for everyone.

Kyle could hardly understand why everyone talked so fast or the shit food in the cafeteria or the guys in the halls asking him if he wanted "bud". He missed his friends and everyone in this new place was in their own clique. He tried to keep his head down and do his work. He talked to Stan on the phone a lot.

Stan seemed to be doing fine. He happened to be in the same class as all the other guys and was still dating Wendy. But more, he'd been standing up to his friends in the evenings, knowing the only time Kyle's mom let on the phone was from 6 to 8.

Finally, on Christmas, their parents decided to let the boys have phones with texting plans. From that moment on, Kyle and Stan were constantly sharing details of their life with each other.

In school, both learned to hide their phones under the desk and text single-handedly. They talked about everything, from classes to people to movies. They were still best friends, no matter what anyone said. They woke up to each other's messages and fell asleep with their phones still clutched between their fingers. Every time they got the chance, they called each other and whispered under the covers.

It was, Cartman claimed, the faggiest thing in the world (and he didn't even know half the extent of the communication). Stan didn't care what Cartman said. But someone else did.

Walking home from school one day, Kenny said to Stan, "You texting Kyle?"

"Huh, what?" Stan looked up from his screen and answered, "Yeah, yeah, I am. He's joining the debate team. Can you believe it? He's going to destroy everyone."

"That's cool." There was a moment of silence between them, interrupted by Stan's fingers moving deftly over the digits. "Hey, you know that's bad for you right? I mean, it gives you carpal tunnel and arthritis and bad eyesight..." Kenny trailed off.

"Oh? Yeah, we discussed the matter. Don't worry, we talk at night."

"Stan."

"What?"

"STAN!"

Stan looked up. He put the phone in his pocket and said, "What is it, man?"

"You like him, don't you?"

"Of course! He's my best friend." Stan looked at Kenny like the blond had gone crazy.

"That's not what I mean." Kenny said. They had reached the busstop intersection from where Kenny went to his part of town and Stan to his. Neither boy moved. Ken stared at Stan, looked straight into his eyes. Those blue orbs burned into Stan until he blinked and looked away. "And I think you know what I do mean. Tell me, when was the last time you spent as much time with Wendy as you do on your phone with Kyle?"

"That's not the same, dude! I can hang out with Wendy anytime I want!"

"But do you?" Kenny retorted. Stan didn't reply. "Do you guys even know? I'm sure Kyle, in all his infinite Yoda wisdom bullshit, has got it figured out. But do you? Are you both in denial?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Stan murmured softly.

"C'mon. If I have to spell it out for you, I think you're both fucked. And not in the good way." Kenny turned to his street and began to leave.

"Kenny?" Stan spoke quietly, but Kenny still heard. "How do you know? How are you so sure?"

Kenny shrugged, "You're not the only ones in South Park, you know."

Stan wasn't sure what he meant. He stood there until Kenny was gone, long gone. He waited to understand until the sun began to set and the wind got cold. He leaned against the busstop and didn't reply to Kyle's texts. He stood there and thought about how Kenny always seemed to know everything, since they were all just children.

Stan finally understood when the 7 o clock bus pulled up to the stop and Craig got out.

"Hey, Stan." Craig greeted him.

"Hey, Craig." Stan said absentmindedly.

"You going to see Kenny too?" Craig asked.

"Wait, what?"

"Oh. Nothing, forget it."

And Stan understood.