The definition of love:
Bebe PoV
It isn't until my eyes adjust that I'm aware I'm in Wendy's bed. I feel her; warm, next to me, the sound of her breathing so gentle even though her life was at risk.
I tilt my head to where Stan was lying on the floor, a blanket covering him. He had a smile on his face, very faint, but it was there. How ironic, for the both of them. Breathing, smiling, two of the simplest things, of which were the most difficult tasks in the darkest days.
I move my hand to my tummy, feeling the soft movements of my baby, my little boy. I would work the rest of my life if I had to, to help him grow, strive to be the best he could be. He wouldn't be his father, he wouldn't be his grandfather. He was a new life, a new human being, who I would do anything to protect. It was just me and him now and somehow I felt stronger.
Cartman PoV
I was thinking maybe my bed at home would be more comfortable than at the hospital, but clearly it wasn't the mattress that was the problem. I had been tossing and turning all night, the slightest movement feeling as if it was bruising my body.
I had tried eating a carrot stick last night, following hearing people's stories at the group, it had made me realise, maybe I was being too extreme. But my body had rejected it and I couldn't swallow anything without feeling sick. So I was scared now, scared I would just keep wasting away, and to go from over-eating, to nothing at all, had clearly had a severe impact on my body. It was weak, it was tired, it was destroyed. Whatever I did, I could never be 'normal', that was something that would forever haunt me.
I pull myself out of bed, aching, using all my strength just to sit up. I wince at my phone, the light penetrating my eyes.
Douchebag (Stan) (3 Missed Calls)
Douchebag (Stan):
You missed a call from me at 23:41 on the 27 May. This is a free Call Alert from O2. To disable this dial 247, press *, then option 4 and option 5.
Jew (Kyle):
Dude, any ideas where Stan is?
Douchebag (Stan):
Call me back when u get the chance plz
Fucks sake, why was I so popular when I didn't want to talk to anyone? I sigh, reluctantly before pressing Stan's contact name.
"You requested my voice." I tell him before he could even respond to the call.
"Oh... Yeah hi." He mumbles, clearly groggy because he had just woken up. "Bebe chuck me that shirt will you?"
"Wait... You're with Bebe?" I inquire.
"Yes." He replies, bluntly.
"Sleeping with her?" I persist.
"No!" He exclaims. "She's sleeping with Wendy, I mean-"
"Bebe's sleeping with Wendy?" I scan the room, looking for a notepad.
"Oh not like that." He snaps at me. "I'm just taking this call outside."
"Ok." I hear Bebe say. 'I'm taking this call outside'? Who did he think he was? Beyoncé's PA?
"Alright, so you still game?" Stan whispers after a few clatters of doors opening and closing.
"I prefer chicken." I mutter. "Actually I prefer nothing right now."
"What?" He replies, clearly not getting the joke.
"Doesn't matter." I shake my head. "What's happened to you and why are you suddenly father Teresa?"
"That group just gave me the idea; we're all feeling a bit insecure at the moment." He explains. "Maybe we could do something similar, get the group back together again."
"I was never in the group." I respond. "None of you like me."
"...True." He admits. "But you could be, if people saw the real you."
"Oh shut up with your Martin Luther King speech." I practically spit, hating him trying to figure me out before I had chance to myself.
"Have you been revising history?" He asks me.
"Maybe a little..." I mutter. "Hospital was boring... Anyway, so what? You feel sad, Kenny likes a drink, I'm not hungry."
"Oh and I established something last night." Stan hushes his voice slightly. "But you can't tell anyone-"
"And Bebe's up the stick." I complete my sentence and a short silence falls upon us.
"Wait how do you know?" He exclaims, I had clearly just ruined his bit of gossip.
"Known for ages." I shrug. "I have my sources."
"So why haven't you exposed it in the morning announcements?" He inquires.
"Because, Stan." I respond, sourly. "I'm not a complete asshole."
"...No, why didn't you really?" He inserts.
"Because I know how it feels to be called fat, constantly be picked on about your weight." I explain, honestly. "And I wouldn't wish that upon anyone... Even Barbie."
"...Genuinely?" He pauses.
"Genuinely." I confirm, and I hear him hesitate again.
"Wendy has breast cancer." He admits, and it takes a few seconds to sink in. "So I guess that completes our group."
"...Wow." I try to hide the shock in my voice. "That's... Ironic... Looks like we all have secrets."
"Looks like we do." He concludes. "Wait, but what about Kyle?"
Kyle PoV
"What the fuck has happened in here?" I enter Kenny's house, the interior smashed to pieces, despite the fact there wasn't anything to smash.
"What is love Kyle?" Kenny practically yells at me, causing me to take a step back. He was wasted, I could see it in his eyes, hear it in his voice. "Tell me that; what is love?"
"...Something you can't define." I conclude, after briefly thinking about it. It was late, so late that darkness has fallen upon the summer air. "Something you only know when you know it, it's not something you learn, it's something you feel, it's something you find."
"Is it supposed to be a good thing?" He asks me, his eyes red and sore from crying.
"I suppose, sometimes." I shrug. "For the lucky ones... But most of the time it just hurts."
"How do you know that?" Kenny narrows his eyes at me. "If you've never been in love?"
"Because I have." The words fall from my mouth, I didn't care anymore. I watch as they fall to the floor, visible, but impossible to touch. "But like I said, most of the time it just hurts."
"Not still lusting after that Rebecca chick are you?" He narrows his eyes at me, sitting in a pile on the floor.
"Ha... I wish." I mutter, staring at the floor, so intensely that I could identify every stain, every imperfection on the rotting carpet. "No it's someone a bit closer to home than that..."
"Oh my God... It's Wendy." He exclaims, pointing at me. "You so have a crush on Wendy."
"I don't have a crush on anyone." I correct him. "And certainly not Wendy."
"Oh... Well good else Stan wouldn't be happy." He brushes it off, going back to sitting with his head in his hands.
"What does he care? Wendy is ancient history where he's concerned." I tell him and he raises his head.
"You're so out of the loop Kyle." Kenny sighs. "You do know they're back together?"
The words hit me like a bullet, a searing pain shooting through my chest. It's as if I've fallen off a skyscraper and landed on my back, winded, unable to speak, paralysed but somehow still alive. He was kidding, right? It was his idea of a joke...
His face falls, I remain static. The look of realisation glints in his eye. I want to run, but I'm isolated, I'm frozen. Everything immediately hurts, and he could see it. He knew why, he was drunk, not stupid.
"...It's Stan." His tone is surprisingly calm, but not questioning. It was as if he knew all along and had only just come to terms with it. I don't have the ability to shake or nod my head, so I remain fixed, staring at him with my sunken expression. "...The locker... It was true, wasn't it? The annoyance over Stan and Douglas... All the rumours at school... You're..."
"Don't." I whisper, fiercely, my fist clenching and releasing.
"Oh my God." His eyes are darting to every crevice of my face, trying to believe the truth. "Kyle, you're-"
"DON'T." I yell, throwing my hands over my ears like a child. I didn't need to hear Kenny say it, it was bad enough having the word flying around in my brain every hour of every day.
"Kyle." He speaks softly, as if he was suddenly the mature adult in this situation. "It's nothing to be ashamed-"
"JUST LEAVE ME ALONE." I shout, storming out of his house and running down the street, tears pouring down my cheeks. It wasn't fair, I didn't choose to be like this. Why me? Why was I the one suffering?
Wendy PoV
"So you'll be staying in here overnight, just to settle yourself in a bit." The nurse explains. "Then we will take you down to theatre tomorrow. Are you comfortable?"
"Yes thank you." I smile at her, trying to conceal my nerves.
"Alright, well the button is there if you need anything at all." She replies, giving me a warm look before walking off.
"Private room huh?" Stan casts his eyes around the room, clearly trying to divert my attention.
"Don't get any ideas." I grin at him and his face softens slightly.
"How are you so confident?" He dares to ask me.
"I'm not." I stifle a laugh. "This is all front."
"It'll be fine." He comes over to me, squeezing my hand. "Few nights in a... Hotel, free food, waiters at your service, comfy beds, handsome boyfriend sat by your bed all night."
"Just as it was getting good." I raise my eyebrows at him. "In all seriousness, you don't have to stay. My parents will be here at some point."
"I'm staying put." He sits down in the seat beside me. "Whether you like it or not."
"I love you." I link my fingers with his, moving closer to him.
"I love you too." He whispers, placing a kiss on my forehead. "Everything's gonna be fine, I promise."
Kyle PoV
It took me less than a minute to get to my house, it wasn't far from Kenny's and the speed I was running now benefitted greatly.
I was hoping I'd get back and go straight to my room, dive on to my bed and just forget the world. But I was greeted by my mother, although 'greeted' was a bit too optimistic.
"Kyle, come and sit down with us." She leads me into the kitchen and I sit down abruptly, staring my dad in the eyes, who proceeds to lower his head into his hands.
"What?" I mutter. "Has someone died? Is Ike okay?"
"We've had a call from your friend Craig..." Mom speaks slowly and I protect the realisation from showing in my eyes. Oh shit. "At first we thought it was a wind up-"
"What's he said?" I interrupt her.
"He was really worried about you." She explains. "As are we... We've brought you up following the rules of Judaism... I just don't understand how this can happen."
"It's not true, Sheila." My dad pipes up. "We've been over this... Kyle, tell her."
"...Tell her what?" I squeak, the lump in my throat holding me back.
"That you're not... Gay." He splutters on the word and just like it had, minutes before, the word physically affects me. I sit there, unable to speak, paralysed under the situation I had dreaded, that had proceeded too fast.
"It's just... We know you aren't." Mom cuts in, as it didn't appear I was going to speak. "But then Mr Mackey phoned up saying we hadn't paid the damage to your locker and then we saw the pictures on that website... Is someone bullying you?"
"I don't know who that was." I respond, instantly. "It wasn't me."
"Well we know because... It's all untrue." Dad tells me. "You're a good boy, you wouldn't write such disgusting lies about yourself on your own locker."
"Was it that Eric Cartman?" Mom clenches her fist slightly.
"Like I said, I don't know who it was." I mumble, avoiding eye contact and staring at the table.
"Well why would your little friend Craig tell lies? That's what I don't understand." Dad ponders. "Even saying he saw you and Tweek kissing, it's disgusting."
"Because they weren't lies." The words slip from my mouth, not moving my gaze from the table. "It's all true."
"...Sorry?" Dad asks, after a stunned silence. "What are you implying?"
"That I'm gay... Or at least... I'm not straight." I try to clarify and they look at me blankly, unsure whether to laugh at the 'joke' or not.
"Don't be stupid." Mom suddenly raises her voice, high pitched and shrill, as if I'd told her I was about to join Isis. "Boys like you aren't... That."
"Boys like me?" I frown, seeing Dad's shocked and disgusted expression.
"You're not one of them." He argues, rudely. "You're... Strong, masculine... You're just... You're Kyle."
"He's probably just got it off some TV programme." Mom shakes her head. "He doesn't know, he's never been with a guy... He likes girls... Kyle you like girls, tell us-"
"I DON'T KNOW!" I yell, slamming my fist down on the table. "I don't know what I feel. But what I do know, is that I have feelings for guys... A guy... And it's all just a bit of a mess up here..."
"...No." Dad stands up slowly, covering his face with his hands. "No way, shut up... Know what this is? It's that Mr... Mrs... Garrison, whatever he or she chose to be daily. Raising them at such a young age to think it's alright. Well it's not!"
"Do you think I want to feel like this?" I ask him, my voice harsh, as I force back tears, a deep aching in my throat. "Don't you think I've tried to convince myself it's not true? I would do anything... Anything to be someone else right now... But this is me. This is your son dad, I'm your son..."
He turns to me slowly and for a second I think he's going to come over to me, kneel down, tell me that he's sorry and accepts me for whoever I am. But he just stares me, scanning me up and down, as if he's never met me before, as if he doesn't even know me.
"Counselling." He nods, dragging the back of his hand against his stubble. It isn't a question, it's an order. "We'll get you help, you'll be normal soon enough."
"I am normal." I object, gritting my teeth as I see mom staring at me, tears brimming in her eyes.
"You're Jewish." He states. "No... You'll do as we expect. You will marry a young woman, get a good job, have children and bring them up to worship our faith."
"It isn't 1864!" I exclaim. "I'm not your property, I can be whoever I want."
"Get out." He growls at me and I freeze.
"What?" I whisper.
"Pack a bag, and get out." He orders and I glance at mom, who wasn't offering any back-up. "You have ten minutes."
"You really hate me that much?" A tear spills down my cheek and I wipe it away quickly. "I really disgust you, because of who I am, to the extent you don't want me in your house?"
"We don't hate you Kyle." Mom finally pipes up, brushing her own tears away.
"What?" Gerald shoots her a look.
"We could never hate you." She promises, taking my hand. "You're our only biological son... We made a vow the day you were born to protect you, no matter what."
"I don't believe this." Gerald cups his face, exasperated. "You're taking his side?"
"He's my flesh and blood." She tells him. "Kyle is staying put, and if you don't like it, you can get out."
He glances at the two of us, in complete shock, before proceeding to leave the room, slamming the door with rage behind him. I realise then how much I am shaking, I've clenched my fist so hard that beads of blood were brewing from where my nails had dug in.
"I'm so sorry." I whisper, letting the tears pour from my eyes and mom was crying too. She pulls me towards her, as I bury my head in her chest, soaking her dress. She holds me tightly, swaying me, protecting me from further harm. I'd always thought she would be the one to go off on one about something like this, after blaming Canada and her social rallies, but it seemed she was on my side, it seemed maybe, just maybe, she loved me for who I was. Who I was meant to be and that was something I couldn't change, as much as I hated it.
I'm not discriminating against Judaism in the slightest, it's all for the purpose of the story. Please leave a review!