Chapter 11

Author's Note: This chapter is entirely Kyle's P.O.V. :) Hope you all enjoy it! I like experimenting with different P. , but there's nothing like good old Kyle Broflovski :) Also a side note- I love you all… but I don't like Style. ….*hides in a corner* Please don't hate me… I just don't see anything between them. I mean in my opinion Stan is as straight as straight can get lol and I honestly feel weird even reading Style fanfics because I only look at them as best friends xD lol what can I say? I'm strange. But anyhoo, hope you all still like me! :D Kyman forever! :3 On with the show!

P.S- Kyman fluff in next chapter so get excited! HYPE!

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I made my way down the stairs in my normal clothing. I wasn't going to make a big deal out of this stupid double date thing. Screw Stan for this. Seriously.

I took my hat off of the coat rack and looked into the mirror, examining the gash in my head from yesterday. It was right on my forehead and it looked pretty bad. I cleaned it in the shower with soap and water, which burned like hell, but it still looked really gross. I shoved my hat on my head and made sure it covered the healing gash entirely. I stuffed my hands in the pockets of my orange jacket. The only difference in my outfit was that I was wearing a long sleeved sweater to cover my handiwork from last night. I read online that you're only supposed to cut in places that were really hard to find on your body so that no one would notice it. Sounds like common sense, but I did it as a spur of the moment thing. So, unfortunately, I wasn't thinking clearly. At all.

But that didn't mean I was going to stop. It took so much of the weight off of my shoulders. It hadn't even been 24 hours and I could just feel the habit forming. Oh well.

At least I'm not an alcoholic.

I shuddered. I noticed that the house was very empty and sighed in relief. Mom went off to work which meant I didn't have to tell her I was going on a date with some slutty girl from my gym class. THANK. MOSES.

My mom had been nagging me for three years to get a girlfriend, or at least to try thinking about them. She even had me go to this summer camp full of only jewish girls, claimed she didn't read the pamphlet, and then insisted that I try to make the best out of it. I was lucky enough to catch the eye of one of the councilors who was actually willing to listen to me and send me home. I don't know why I'm not interested in girls. I just never was.

The doorbell rang and I groaned looking at the floor. I did NOT want to do this. Ughhh. Fuckin STAN. I went over to the door and opened it while pulling on my gloves. Stan's jacket was opened and underneath he was wearing a really nice grey suit; he was even sporting a blue and red tie. Wendy and Bebe were across the street waving and giggling like idiots with their fur coats on and their obnoxious earmuffs. I looked back at Stan who raised his eyebrow.

"…Dude. I said dress nice." He muttered.

"Yeah I know. I just don't care. You're lucky I'm coming at all." I rasped walking past him and shutting the door. Stan chuckled.

"I can't thank you enough for agreeing to this dude." He said as we crossed the street. I rolled my eyes.

"Yeah yeah. I know." I replied with a smile. He put his hand on my shoulder and looked me in the eye, stopping us before we could reach the girls. His face was now a very concerned one. "…Kyle are you sure you're okay? I mean, about yesterday? Your mom was being kind of strange on the phone."

"Yeah I know. She hasn't been herself lately. I was going to talk to a psychiatrist about her… she's really out of it Stan." I said averting my eyes.

"How out of it?" he asked. I met his eyes once more.

"Let's just say… it's getting harder and harder to ignore." I muttered. He was about to question me, but the girls walked over. Wendy smiled at us.

"What's the holdup boys? We'll miss out reservation!" she chirped. I looked at them and didn't match their smiles.

"Reservation?" I asked.

"Huh? Oh! Oh yeah! Bebe's mom gave her lots of money for her birthday and she's spending it all on this double date so we can all have really good food and it's her treat!" Stan said, tossing her a grateful smile.

Bebe looked over and shot me a wink, digging her foot around in the snow. I looked over at her and noted that, while her hair and makeup were pretty, her dress was way too revealing and skanky for a night out at some fancy shmansy restaurant. And that wink was really creepy.

"That's uh… that's really nice of you, Bebe." I thanked her as Stan and Wendy walked ahead of us.

"Oh trust me, Kyle. You're totally worth it." She chuckled and started walking. I slowly followed her, looking down awkwardly.

"What… what do you mean 'I'm worth it'?" I asked, raising one eyebrow and genuinely curious. She laughed.

"Oh Kyle! Don't you know that you're like one of the hottest guys in school? All the girls wanna date you now. They think you've really matured now that you're in highschool, but I always thought you were hot." She blushed, watching me for my reaction. I didn't really know how to react.

"…Um… thanks?" I replied, not knowing whether I should feel embarrassed, annoyed or flattered. She let me walk ahead slightly and I felt her eyes on me.

"…Yup. You still got it." I heard her say.

"Got what exactl-…" I looked over my shoulder and saw her staring right at my ass. My face flushed and I covered it with my hands. She just giggled as I ran over to Stan and Wendy, who were getting all of the make out sessions out of their systems before we got to the restaurant. I gripped Stan's jacket pathetically as Bebe continued her laughter. Stan irritably looked over at me.

"What?" he asked.

"I don't think I can do this…" I breathed, feeling sick to my stomach. "Stan she's horrible…"

"Oh she's not that bad, Kyle!" Wendy whispered. "Just give her a chance. She's really excited about spending time with you."

"Yeah dude. Relax." Stan agreed. I whimpered a bit and looked behind me. She was still staring right at my ass.

"How do I keep her from… from trying to check me out?" I asked pathetically.

"Why the hell wouldn't you want her to?" Stan laughed. "Dude just talk to her about something she likes so she'll talk a bunch about herself. That's what girls do."

"Hey!" Wendy snapped. Stan rubbed the back of his head and grinned sheepishly at her. She seemed to forgive him as soon as he looked at her and they continued sucking face. I groaned and walked over to Bebe.

"Hey hot stuff." She said, chuckling at me when I winced.

"Uh… h-hey. So um… what do you uh like to do around… around the house… on… weekends?" I attempted. She looked at me strangely as if in deep thought, and then smiled in absolute mischief. I gulped.

"Welllll that depends…" she purred, slinging an arm around my shoulder. "Do you want to know what I do with friends… or by myself in my bedroom?"

"W-With friends!" I replied way too quickly and loudly, which got backwards glances from Wendy and Stan. I was sweating at this point and ducked out of her grasp. Bebe seemed disappointed in both my answer and her sudden lack of physical contact with me, so she started talking about something called one direction. I completely tuned her out and let my thoughts wander as we approached the psychiatrists building and then the hospital.

My mom needed serious help if she was going to get back to being herself. Maybe she was having a hard time coping with the divorce and they had some medicine she could take. I decided I would talk to Ike about it after the semester was over. I'd just have to swallow my pride countless more times, push my friends to the curb, and completely isolate myself in order to complete any task she would have for me without any complaints. …I could put up with my mom for two more weeks no problem.

…I hope.

And then there's Cartman. Who would probably kick me in the nuts for not texting him back. …Then again why didn't he hurt me after I said all of those things to him? I said so many awful horrible things… Why was I such an asshole? Hey! But more importantly, why didn't he beat the crap out of me for being a total asshole? Maybe he was trying to make up for all of the times I put up with him for being a total asshole? …No that couldn't be it. He would never be that considerate. It had to be something else.

But what?

"Kyle are you even listening to me?" Bebe snapped me out of my thoughts and I shook my head to bring my attention back to what was going on.

"Y-Yeah! Sorry Bebe. I've just been really distracted lately." I replied honestly. She shot me a sultry smirk.

"Oh don't worry about that Kyle. Stan told me you needed to have some fun and wind down a bit. Bebe will take good care of you…" she replied, wrapping her arms around my waist. I felt my face flush and I untangled myself from her.

"R-right… you don't have to do that." I muttered.

"We're here guys!" Wendy exclaimed. "Aren't you excited?"

We walked inside a really fancy place and a waitress showed us our table. Bebe picked it out. It was a booth with room for four; candle lit. How romantic. Not. I rolled my eyes as I got in the booth first. BIG. MISTAKE.

Bebe squeezed in next to me, completely sealing me in. If I wanted to get out, she'd have to get up first. I contemplated shoving her down if necessary, but all in all that would be a pretty dick move; especially since she was paying for everything and all. I sighed as we settled in and waited for our menus to appear. Stan and Wendy were talking about the upcoming game on Wednesday night and how excited they were. Bebe even expressed her confidence in the South Park Cows, and exclaimed how, her words, stoked she was about learning a new cheer.

I… really wanted to disappear.

"Kyle we're almost finished with that project! Just thought you should know." Stan said. My head perked up at that.

"What? I didn't even do my part!" I exclaimed.

"Kenny did half of your half for you and I did the other half of your half. In the hospital, Cartman even finished the final draft of the essay that you told him to do. And get this- not one racist joke." He explained. My jaw had never dropped so low.

"Get…Out."

"I'm dead serious!" Stan exclaimed. "I know I was shocked too, but Kenny read it to me over the phone. It's true. Something is seriously changing with him. Honestly it's kind of… creeping me out a little. It's weird."

"Yeah I… I know what you mean." I murmured. The waitress came back and we all ordered our food. I tried to order the cheapest thing but Bebe insisted I get something nice, so I let her order something for me. It ended up being eggplant, which I wasn't too crazy about, but I didn't complain. I just thanked her.

The conversations were going pretty well between the four of us and honestly, I was having a pretty good time. Wendy was so much funnier than I remembered her to be, and Stan was Stan so that was always nice to be around.

…And then there was Bebe.

I had never thought about killing a person in 67 different ways all in one night before. So that was interesting.

Her hand wouldn't stop resting on my knee. No matter how many times I scooted away or shoved her hand off, it just kept coming back. I didn't want to be rude or embarrass her, but it was seriously starting to get fucking ridiculous. I was so happy when our food came and she was finally distracted with something other than groping me.

The food was really amazing and I was almost finished, when Wendy asked Stan if they could go pick out some desert to take home. Wendy had her credit card out so Bebe wouldn't have to pay for it. As they got up to leave I shot Stan a desperate look, but he didn't seem to notice at all. The second they were gone, I felt the hand return and groaned.

"Bebe please stop." I begged her trying to push her hand away. But this time it wouldn't budge. Her eyes burned into mine and I started to get a little nervous.

"What's your problem Kyle? Do you think I'm ugly or something?" she asked. I felt my stomach churn with guilt.

"N-No! Of course not! You're really pretty Bebe." I tried to reassure her. She smiled slightly.

"Then don't be so nervous. I really like you." She replied, and her hand trailed up my thigh. I felt my breath hitch in my throat and instead of the obvious arousal I should have felt, I felt a sudden pulse of disgust shoot right into my stomach. I tried to stop her hand again.

"Bebe I really don't think you should-"

She cut me off by forcing her lips on mine and trying to stroke me through my pants from under the table. I gasped in absolute shock and she took the opportunity to plunge her tongue down my throat. I whimpered in protest and gripped her arms pushing her off angrily, but the second I gave way, she slammed back into me with an even stronger passion. I felt myself retreat into my mind, silently screaming for an escape. DAMN HER PERSISTENCE! I finally couldn't take it anymore and shoved her off with such strength that she fell on her ass in the middle of the floor. A waiter then tripped over her and spilled food everywhere. Plates and glasses shattered as I dug myself out of the booth. Bebe looked up at me, pissed off beyond belief.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM?!" she screamed. All eyes were on me. I turned my head to Stan who was the only person who wasn't judging me with their eyes. Wendy however raced over to help Bebe up. She was crying now, her mascara running down her face.

"W-What happened?" Wendy asked in a panic.

"He-He fucking PUSHED ME!" Bebe snarled pointing at me. I felt my legs move by themselves and ran out of the restaurant, the eyes piercing into me from all directions.

Once I was out of the door, I felt my chest rise and fall as I ran down the street. The night air was cold and sharp against my cheeks, but it was nice. I needed it. I leaned against a lamp post and almost puked up my dinner, but I forced myself to hold it in and breathe through it. I vomited enough times this week. I gripped the lamp post.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

I felt a hand on my shoulder. I couldn't even look at Stan right now. I just couldn't do it. But the hand never left my shoulder. It pulled me into his arms and he just embraced me. I buried my nose into his jacket and trembled. His words echoed in my head from days ago.

'Dude, you can tell me anything. You know that right?'

I swallowed and lifted my head, my eyes meeting his which were full of extreme concern. I needed to get this off my chest right now.

"Stan, I'm gay."

I expected him to shove me off of him like he'd been electrocuted, but he didn't. He didn't even let me go. He just looked at me with genuine surprise. Then his face contorted in anger. I winced my eyes shut, expecting the worst. His grip tightened on my arms.

"Why. The FUCK. Wouldn't you tell me something that important, Kyle?!" he snarled. I opened my eyes slowly and saw his eyes burning into mine, demanding an answer.

"I…" I whispered, unsure of what to say. "…I don't know. I really don't fucking know."

"I'm your super best friend you asshole!" he exclaimed, shaking me slightly. "Did you forget that?!"

"No! I know you are!" I insisted. He grit his teeth together.

"Do you know how fucking frustrated I've been for the past few weeks? I've been trying to figure out what was going on with you and it's been driving me crazy! Damn it Kyle!" he snapped, finally letting me go. I hugged myself, shivering slightly. He looked up at me, the anger fading from his eyes when he saw me wipe my nose which was starting to run as I fought back tears. "…Kyle?"

"I'm s-sorry… Stan I just… dammit…" I choked back a sob, utterly disgusted with myself for getting emotional in public. "C…can you walk home with me?"

"Yeah." He answered and led me away, hand on my back in a comforting gesture. I kept reminding myself to breathe. Having a panic attack right now would solve nothing. I just had to hold out until I got home… and then I could just go to the bathroom and take my glass shard and everything would go away for a little while.

Just distract yourself. Talk. TALK!

"Stan." I managed to get out. "D-Don't tell anyone."

"Of course I'm not going to fucking tell anyone. Who am I going to tell, Kyle?" he growled, annoyed at my apparent lack of trust. I sighed. "Seriously. Kenny? Cartman?"

"OH GOD NO PLEASE DON'T!" I cried out, my heart skipping a beat in my chest. Stan shushed me immediately.

"I wont I wont I was being sarcastic shh!" he whispered loudly, rubbing my back. I calmed myself slightly and after a long moment of silence I found my words.

"K-Kenny sort of knows." I replied. Stan looked at me like I slapped him in the face. "He just guessed, Stan! I didn't tell him anything. I denied it. But I think he still knows."

"…Well that can't be helped. At least Kenny's not a dick so you don't have to worry about this getting out, alright? I just wish you would have told me earlier, Kyle. I never would have set you up with Bebe. What did she do anyway?" he asked. I snapped my eyes shut.

"She stuck her tongue down my throat Stan. And then she fucking molested me." I growled. Stan's entire body tightened up.

"If she wasn't a girl, I would beat the shit out of her right now. Wait until I tell Wendy that. God. What a slut!" Stan vented, pulling out his phone.

"No!" I yelled grabbing his arm. "Please don't make a big deal out of this! I just want to forget it happened."

"But-"

"No Stan. I-I can deal with this alright?" I asked as we came up to my block. "I just need to get home and sleep."

"Kyle I'm… I'm so sorry. Are you sure you're going to be okay until tomorrow? Maybe I can convince your mom into letting you sleep over at my house." Stan suggested as we got to my house.

"No. No I need to be alone. Night Stan. I'll see you at the bus stop, alright?" I replied, almost running up my porch steps.

"A-alright dude… night." Stan muttered, guilt plastered all over his face.

I shut the door quickly and headed up the stairs as fast as I could. Mom saw me, but said nothing as I dove into my room and locked the door behind me. My hands were shaking as I threw my jacket on the floor and headed into the bathroom.

I need it. I need it right now.

I tore open the cabinet, carefully took my glass shard out, and washed it under the sink. My legs were starting to tremble with need as my heartbeat was racing in panic.

C'MON C'MON C'MON!

I sat on my stool and almost lifted my sleeves, but remembered that I had no more space left on my arms to cut. I groaned audibly and thought quickly.

HURRY THE FUCK UP!

My hip! Who the hell would think to look at my hip? Genius! I bet Ike wouldn't be able to think of THAT.

I pulled my pants down slightly and rolled up the bottom of my sweater until my hips were fully exposed. I randomly decided that my left hip would receive the honor and lined the glass up with my skin. The second I sliced into my flesh, the tingles shot up and down my spine. I gasped loudly at the sensation. As pain spread throughout my skin, I felt my mind go blank and my heart begin to slow down.

Fuck yes…

Blood started to leak from my carefully placed incision as I brought the glass a few inches higher. I sliced into my skin a second time, dragging the glass further than I did with the first cut. I made sure to push harder when I did it again, making the cut even deeper than before. Pleasure mixed with pain and danced together in the emptiness of my blissfully calmed mind. I actually let a slight moan escape from my throat. I almost couldn't recognize my own voice when I did it. It didn't sound like a noise I could make.

I started to get a little dizzy and knew I should stop… but it was just starting to feel so amazing. Why stop now?

I raised the glass just under my bruise and lined up the point with my skin. Just as I was about to pierce myself for the third time, I was snapped back into reality.

"THE FUCK KAHL?!"