I didn't know what a Freedom Pal was, nor did I want to be one. As I turned to walk away from him, he grabbed my shoulder and turned me back around.

"What?" I demanded. "I have to get home. Listen, you seemed cool at first, but now you're just weird. Leave me alone."

"You don't understand," He insisted.

"I don't care." I shrugged his hand off my shoulder and turned to leave.

"I'll be back, you know."

The walk – or rather jog – home was chilling after that. Oh, how I desperately wished I had a cell phone so I could text Michael and tell him what happened. I couldn't sleep that night, to say the least.

I didn't talk to anyone for the next two days; I just had no energy to and they didn't expect me to. I didn't know if Kyle told anyone or not and I didn't really care. My silence broke when Garrison got a call from PC Principal during class, telling me to report to his office. The whole room, except Jimmy, Kyle, and Tweek, made obnoxious teasing gasps as I exited the room. I didn't do anything wrong, so I only wondered why I was being called down. Once I arrived, I knocked once at his office door, afraid to enter without permission.

"Entre-vue," PC Principal said in a stale, yet uplifting tone. As I entered, he continued, "Oh, hello, Emma. I requested you today because I heard you've been a bit upset lately and I was wondering what I could do to assist you."

I sat in the chair in front of his desk, "Isn't that Mackey's job?"

"Mr. Mackey has been sent to a retreat to learn better communication skills," PC Principal explained. "He was saying some pretty disrespectful things about the students in the staff room. Anyways, I just want you to know, that if you're depressed, we are here to help. Care to tell what's going on?"

I sighed, "There's nothing you can do to help, as much as I appreciate it. My dad's losing his job because of the economy here so we're going to have to move back to New York. I just don't want to go. New York sucked."

"Where does your dad work?"

"At some company that Wendy's mom owns, I think," I shrugged.

"Hmm, I see, let me just take a look at something quick," He was quiet for a moment, typing into a computer. After a moment, he perked up, "Oh, that's your dad? I see. I will see what I can do to fix the situation, Emma."

"Excuse me?" I asked, completely lost.

"Don't worry about it; I will be calling your father to assess the situation later. Please return to class."

I left his office, completely confused about what the hell he was even talking about. On my way back to class, I ran into Henrietta. She was crying, sitting against the lockers.

"Henrietta, you okay?"

I hadn't talked to her for a while, so I wasn't sure how to approach her. I just went to sit next to her on the floor, hoping she wouldn't be uncomfortable.

"Yeah, I'm totally fine, can't you see?" She wiped her face into her dress. There wasn't really a stain; I guess that was a perk to being Goth.

"You don't look fine," I sighed. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"We broke up, okay? You guys were all right. Dating is for fucking conformists. I'm so glad I'm not one," She started to lose her edge towards the end, tearing up a bit.

"Dude, dating isn't just for conformists and it's okay that it didn't work out," I said. "It's not the end of the world, and even if it was, that's your goal in life anyways, so why worry?"

She breathed deeply, "You're right I guess. He's a total loser anyways."

"I'm sure he is," I chuckled.

Before I got up to return to class, Michael found us in the hall and stopped to talk to us.

"I heard what happened," He said. "I guess that means we're all good now."

Henrietta shrugged, "Whatever." She stood up, straightened her dress, and walked off.

"Do you know what happened?" I asked him.

"Pete said he was sick of the feeling of 'love'," Michael shrugged. "It was about damn time. Love is shit; it always fails eventually."

I sighed, "Is this because of your parents?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" His tone became slightly defensive.

"You always say that love is lame because if it didn't work for your parents, it won't work for you, but you don't know that, Michael," I said, finally getting out what I felt.

"That's not true," He cried out.

"Yes it is," I retaliated, frustrated.

It was quiet for a minute. He was thinking. Finally he sighed.

"You're just like them, Em. I thought you were different."

I thought for a minute, but my feet were too fast for my brain, so I had to commit to it or it would be even more awkward. I stepped forward and grabbed one of his hands and looked at him.

"But, I am different."

Hesitantly, I kissed his cheek, even though it was covered in makeup.

Happy Passover, Easter, & April Fools Day. I thought I'd give y'all a gift. Let me know what you think!

Also, for more South Park throughout the week, go ahead and check out my YouTube channel; here's the link if you're too lazy. channel/UC6zhlTQ8EhkSLE2Jy-1GW5g?view_as=subscriber

The more feedback I receive, the more willing I am to take time out of my busy schedule to post more than twice a month; share the love. Peace out.