A/N: Concerned I'm maybe grouping Stan, Kenny, Wendy and Bebe together a bit and leaving Kyle and Cartman out so hopefully this upcoming plot will bind them all back together again. Enjoy!

A Secret Halved is a Secret Shared

Kyle PoV

My eye opens a fraction before I hear a quiet creak from the door. Immediately closing it again, I breathe softly, waiting for my mom to check I was still obeying the rules before leaving. But instead, I hear quiet footsteps coming towards me, before a slightly wet kiss is placed on my forehead and the words 'I love you' are whispered in my ear. Then, within seconds, she was gone again. I wait a few more, to double check the coast was clear, before rolling over and pulling my phone off the side, the brightness of its screen startling me. I blink at the home screen for a few seconds. It was a picture of Stan, Cartman, Kenny and I, on summer break last year, when we had convinced Craig and Tweek that zip-lining would be fun so we could take their tickets to the Raging Pussies concert. We were smiling, Cartman with a finger up in our selfie, but we all looked so happy...

I immediately unlock my phone, unsure as to why I still had this saved as my wallpaper. That was the past and it was over now, as much as I missed it and as much as it hurt. Everything has to come to an end.

Compose New Message:

Noah:

Last night was good, thank you for making me feel so welcome x

Scrap that, it made me sound like I'd joined some kind of cult.

Compose New Message:

Noah:

Nice meeting you last night, hopefully do it again?x

Or was that too eager? Maybe he had been kidding about everything he said last night, he probably said it to every new guy who was in there.

Compose New Message:

Noah:

Cheers for last night dude, enjoyed it.

That was far too friendly.

Compose New Message:

Noah:

Hey it's Kyle, hope you had fun last night, I know I did. Thanks for the drink as well, I'll hold you to that offer of buying you one back ;) xxx

No. Too flirty, the wink face had to go. Plus how many kisses did I add? Did I put the friendly one kiss? But then again I never really put kisses... Or go ahead and go straight for three... Or would that seem too forward? Two, that was safe, that was in the middle.

Compose New Message:

Noah:

Hi it's Kyle, cheers for last night, really enjoyed it. Keep in contact xx

I scan it over about twenty times before plucking up the courage to send it. My heart immediately starts to pound when I do. I had butterflies again. He probably wouldn't even care? He was probably in another guy's bed right now. In fact, I left quite early, he probably got drunk and forgot everything. Or he was just pretending to like me and was just trying to be nice...

New Message:

Noah:

I already saved your name in my phone, you don't need to tell me ;) I had a great night, I'll have to hold you to that offer if you're up for it?xxx

Wow. A wink face three kisses and an instant reply... Was I really Kyle Broflovski?

Kenny PoV

I traipse along the sidewalk, kicking a rock ahead of me and trying not to lose it in the snow. A meeting with Cartman? At Hells Pass? Something weird was going on here...

I take a gamble and kick the rock sharply ahead of me, before it lands at the base of someone's shoe. I look up and see a familiar but aggravated face staring straight at me.

"Dude, where've you been?" I frown, forgetting about the rock all of a sudden. "Wendy's looking for you."

"I've been at school." Stan replies, bluntly, it does confuse me slightly, but I dodge past it as I have more important questions on my mind.

"What's this about you and Cartman arranging a meeting?" I divert and it's his turn to frown then.

"Meeting?" He repeats.

"Check your inbox, we were all cc'd into it." I explain and he pulls out his phone unenthusiastically. "Says something about how he discussed it with you."

"Oh..." He trails off after reading the email. "Shit I didn't know he would actually go through with that."

"Through with what?" I crack a laugh but he just shrugs, sorrowfully. "And what is up with you? You seem all... Sad and stuff."

"Nice of you to notice." He flashes me a sarcastic smile. I am about to follow him up on that witty remark before he asks me another question. "Where you going? Skeeters isn't open at this time in the morning."

"...I'm going home." I try to shake off his dig. "Need to get some stuff."

"Stuff?" He screws his nose up. "What stuff? The only possessions in your house are dust and empty Pabst Blue Ribbon cans."

"Cute..." I roll my eyes, already sick of his negativity. "If you're gonna be all depressive I'll catch you later." I walk around him after receiving no reply and carry on down the street. I do peer round my shoulder and notice him standing glued to the sidewalk, staring down into the snow and part of me urges myself to go back. But I don't, I have bigger problems than Stan Marsh's hormones... And one of them was sitting on my doorstep.

"Oi! Homeless guy!" I shout, nearing my house and ignoring the burned down remnants of Soda Sopa which still surround it. "Shift your ass, this is my home."

"Your home?" He looks up at my presence and I try to ignore the fact he seemed to be eating a dead mouse. "I thought it was just some run down shed?"

"Yeah well it's not, clearly, so get lost." I argue and he immediately gathers his sleeping back and half eaten rodent, slipping off down the street. I enter the house with no door, wincing immediately at the stench inside. It was a mixture of alcoholic fumes, dust and mould, which made me want to gag. But not as much as the sight I then saw lying on my couch.

"...Dad?" I say it in a more surprised tone than anticipated. I hadn't seen him in months and to come home to his drunken figure, sprawled out on the couch was not something I had missed. He didn't stir at the title, so I try a different approach. "Stewart McCormick!" I yell in his ear and in his sleep he immediately lashes out, his fist colliding with my already bruised face, causing a cascade of oozing blood to pour from my nose.

"Kenny?" He mumbles, gripping his head which has his torn baseball cap precariously balanced on top. How he hasn't lost that by now, I didn't know. "Well, wha'dda fuck are you doin' here?"

"I've come back to collect Karen's doll and blanket, she's saying at Tasha's house for a while." I explain, he seems completely oblivious to the fact he has just smashed me in the face and in an urge to try and stop the bleeding, I rip off a corner of the couch material, squeamish at the layer of maggots and flies that are eating away at the inside.

"Well why in't she stayin' here?" He grumbles.

"Because it's a shit hole!" I regretfully use the material to wipe my throbbing nose.

"It's awright?" He mutters and I stand back slightly.

"There's a nest of bugs living inside our couch!" I exclaim, as they begin to roll out onto the stained carpet. The corner of the couch breaks off weakly and lands with a soft thud on the floor, maggots sprawling out everywhere. "Moms in prison, by the way."

"Cool." He wipes his moustache before trying to turn the TV on and realising it hasn't worked for years. "What for?"

"Child neglect." I try to grab a morsel of sympathy but he just shrugs.

"I might try it, least I get warm meals." He points out and I shake my head disapprovingly at him before heading upstairs to grab Karen's things. I return down to find him now lying, drooling on the floor, head in the puddle of maggots. I debate checking his pulse before remembering I really couldn't give a shit, and kick him slightly before leaving.

If there was anything that was going to put me off the drink. It was him.

Wendy PoV

I try Stan once more, proceeding to recite his voicemail once it rang out, I knew it off by heart now. Giving up on that, I turn and finally acknowledge Bebe's groans from the couch.

"What are you moaning about?" I sigh, taking a seat in the chair next to her.

"I'm so uncomfortable." She grumbles, shifting in her seat and trying to find a comfortable position. "Argh." She whines, glaring at her tummy. "Get out! Get out, get out, get out!"

"That's something you've never said before." I mutter, hoping she didn't hear it, but she does and she throws a pillow sharply at my head. "Ow! I'm fragile, you know!"

"Yeah you'll be even more fragile in a minute." She menaces and my eyes widen. "I'm so fed up of being fat and uncomfortable and spotty and hungry and not being able to poop."

"Kenny's a lucky guy." I scoff, tapping my fingernails on my phone screen. Where the hell was Stan?

"If he wasn't a skint alcoholic." Bebe mutters before letting out a loud groan again.

"You sure you're not in labour?" I double check, looking at her warily.

"You'd know about it if I was." She jibes, and I consider making a comment about how I dreaded to think what that would be like, before the front door opens and Stan walks in, shoulders drooping with a sad look on his face.

"Where the hell have you been?" I stand up, trying not to sound too hysterical and it's his appearance which suddenly reminds me. "Fuck, was it counselling? I'm so sorry, I kept calling you, I must have been a right pain."

"Why do you need counselling?" Bebe chimes in and I feel my heart stop beating for a second. How could I even forget she was there? "For having Wendy as a girlfriend? Fair enough."

"For depression." He says it so casually and uncaringly even Bebe doesn't look too surprised. "Anyway, I've been at the school."

"...Why've you been at school?" I frown.

"Why do you have depression?" Bebe questions and I glare at her. "Well like is it actual depression? Or just when people say they have depression, because they feel a bit sad, y'know?"

"Go breast feed a teddy bear!" I yell at her, shutting her up. I was glad it wasn't Cartman I had said that remark to, because it was a poor choice of wording given the circumstances and I'm sure he would have many comebacks to that. "Stan?"

"I was trying to get the prom moved, so you could still attend..." He looks at me sadly and I feel my heart sink and lift at the same time. I don't know what to say, I knew it hadn't worked, I didn't expect it to. But the fact he had tried to do something that sweet, when he knew how much it meant to me, it was everything.

"Sweetie..." I trail off, going over to him and placing a hand on his face before lightly kissing him on the lips.

"They wouldn't let me." He sighs. "So I'm gonna go take my suit back today. Do you have any idea where the receipt is? I think I put it in the shoe box actually-"

"Why would you take your suit back?" I stop him and he looks as if he doesn't understand the question.

"Well, if I'm not going to prom then, I don't really want the suit." He points out, as if it was obvious.

"Stan, you're going to prom." I reply, firmly.

"No... I'll be at the hospital with you." He cracks a slight laugh. "Why would I go to prom?"

"Because it's the last night you're gonna be with your friends!" I exclaim. "Kenny and Kyle, even Cartman, you've been best friends from day one, prom will be the night you say goodbye before college."

"Well that's a load of shit." He practically snorts. "It might be like that in cheesy American comedy films. None of which the characters are undergoing chemo, or are nine months pregnant, alcoholic, gay, anorexic or depressed. I can meet up with them anytime for about a week afterwards."

"There's quite a few films where people are gay to be honest." Bebe points out and I blank her.

"Stan, we've got the rest of our lives together, we're both moving to Boston, it's the other side of the states." I remind him and it scares myself. "You won't just be able to pop over to Kyle's to play guitar hero or play Lord of the Rings in the street or buy Kenny a milkshake at Shakey's whenever you have to vent about relationships."

"So what difference is one night gonna make?" He shrugs, sadly. "It's gonna happen, we're all moving on. Our childhood is over Wendy. No more questioning what Bebe's boobs are at the age of eight, or stories about killing smurfs, or playing games about rescuing Kyle's brother from aliens or placing bets with Cartman about crapping out of his mouth or idolising Kenny for running round town in a cape and underwear pulled up over his pants. No more adventures or singing songs about a Christmas piece of crap, or trying to make it as a boy band, or flooding towns by breaking a beaver dam or playing ninjas on top of Soda Sopa and not realising we seemed part of Isis or rebelling against our parents when they try to take our favourite TV show off the air. It's done, that's it and there's nothing we can do in the next few weeks to bring that back."

He storms off upstairs, leaving my mouth hanging open. I debate going after him, but he didn't seem in the mood to talk. Only Stan Marsh could recall and recite such a long and emotional paragraph off the top of his head. I think it had hit both me and Bebe hard, because she appeared to have finally shut her face.

"...Wait, who's gay?" She suddenly pipes up and I turn to glare at her.

Or not.

Cartman POV

"Eric, you used to love mashed potatoes." Mom sighs sadly as she watches me pull a face at it. Not a grumpy or stubborn face, but an expression which was desperate to not be force fed. I felt sick looking at it, my stomach churned, it just made me feel like I was going to pass out again.

"At least he ate one chicken nugget." My therapy worker negotiates, noting it down in her file. I did not appreciate her holding the fork in front of her face, she treated me like I was five. I was pretty sure that wasn't the way to make an anorexic teenager eat, if anything, it made me want to grab it from her and gouge out her eyeball with it. "Shall we try him with some strawberries? He ate a few of those last time?"

"I am here." I practically snort as my mom nods enthusiastically. "Like I can hear you talking about me."

"Eric, would you like some strawberries?" My therapy worker leans towards me, so I can smell the sourness of her breath. She had totally disregarded anything I just said, still treating me like a kindergartener. "We'll try him with some, what's the worst that can happen?"

"I'm full." I attempt to tell them as she stands up and gets a carton of strawberries out the fridge, placing them on the table in front of me.

"Try a strawberry Eric." My therapy worker offers, picking one up by the stem as if I couldn't even do that myself. When I stare at her blankly, she pops it in her own mouth and rubs her tummy as if I was now deaf. "Mmmm." She exaggerates, offering me another one, like I was a baby about to imitate her.

"I don't want a fucking strawberry!" I yell, slamming my fist down on the table and they jump about in the carton, some of them spilling out onto the table cloth.

"Okay calm down Eric." Mom soothes me and I push myself back in my chair, the screeching of its legs against the tiles being the only noise in the kitchen.

"No. Mom you can fuck off." I snap before turning to the other woman. "And you can get the fuck out of my house. Go on, no wages for you, go harass some other poor soul and treat them like they're completely handicapped."

I storm out of the room and upstairs, slamming my bedroom door to make an impact. I try clicking the TV on but it can't drown out the noise from downstairs.

"I'm sorry he reacted in such a bad way." I hear my mom apologise. "Please don't give up on us, we need you."

For fucks sake, no we didn't need that ugly witch. Why did mom always turn to someone else for help, she could never deal with anything on her own. She wasn't capable of being a mother.

"Of course not, I've seen cases worse than this, I assure you." She responds, her voice hollow in the quiet house. "I'm not going to give up like all those nannies did all those years back."

Maybe mom was hoping to bang this one too, just like she was with the dog whisperer dickhead. I focus my eyes warily on some re-run of Terrance and Phillip. Why was I ever so obsessed with this show? We all were, we thought it was God's gift, so much so that we would skive off school to go watch it. It was a pile of shit, just two Canadian's farting on one another.

I wanted to go back to when I had no worries in the world. Scrap that, when the only worries in the world were missing an episode of Terrance and Phillip or not getting our Teiko digital sports watch delivered straight away.

"Hun, I need to talk to you, it's really important." Mom knocks on my door.

"Go away, mah." I respond, bluntly, but she opens the door anyway.

"Eric." She sits down on my bed, flattening out her apron that covers her skirt. "We need to sort this eating thing, you're supposed to be moving to Seattle in a matter of weeks for college. I can't let you go if you can't eat a full meal."

"I'm fucking trying!" I retort and she doesn't actually look surprised at my reaction. "At least I ate something at dinner, that's an improvement! Or at least it is to me."

"You can't keep being mean to Julie." She continues. Julie, that was that bitches name. Well she wouldn't be receiving any fruit baskets any time soon. "Remember poor super nanny? You put her in a mental asylum for two years!"

"Sweet." I mutter, eyeing up where one of my filthy comics was wedged between my TV and book shelf. I so needed to jack off right now, having my mother in here was just an inconvenience.

"Maybe we could find you a nice girl?" She suggests, as if reading my mind and I give her a weird look.

"What's that got to do with anything?" I pull a face.

"Well it might take your mind off things, you know. Plus, she could help you learn to love yourself." She explains and I splutter through laughter slightly. "What about that Lisa Burger? She seems like your type."

"Lisa Burger is fat and ugly!" I exclaim and my mom shoots me a glare before standing up.

"See, that is exactly the attitude which put you in this position!" She suddenly yells at me. "Judging people for their appearance! You're so disrespectful! You'd have thought your illness would have taught you something!"

"But... Meem..." I whine, slightly hurt. "You always said I was just big boned."

"Yes well now you're only bones Eric!" She continues to shout, bursting into tears. "You're just skin and bones! You just don't seem like my little boy anymore!"

"Yeah well maybe I'm not!" I stand up, and the room falls silent. "Mom, I'm going off to college in a month. I'm moving hundreds of miles away from here. South Park is gonna be a fond but distant memory, for me and all of my friends. But you've gotta realise, we're all moving on, we won't be here anymore. You can't baby me for much longer. Yeah at first I took advantage of it, but now I've realised we've all grown up, we've all got our own problems and our own futures. Learn to deal with it mom... I know I am."

Stan POV

"I'm so pathetic, I just shouted at her, for no reason. She was only trying to be nice, plus she's only just got out of hospital... What sort of a boyfriend am I?" I scrunch Douglas' bed sheets between my fingers before letting it go. We were both sat on his bed, cross legged, like a bunch of sixth grade school girls.

"You're just having a down day, Stan." He reassures me. "Whenever something doesn't go your way, you take it personally and depression has a cruel effect of making it seem a million times worse than it is. It's not your fault, at all."

"I just... I don't want to go to prom if she's not there." I sigh, exasperatedly. "What's the point? She's my girlfriend."

"Like she said, to create your final few memories with your friends. They've been there from day one, literally, Stan. Wendy's right, you've got a whole future with her, there's no breaking you two now." He explains. "Take this night to remember your childhood, and seal it off, its the goodbye of all goodbyes, her parents will be with her at the hospital."

"Are you taking Emily?" I divert the subject, kind of annoyed he was taking Wendy's side. "To prom I mean."

"I'm not going to prom." He laughs slightly, as if it was obvious and my eyes narrow.

"Why not?" I inquire.

"Because nobody knows me." He admits, casually. "There's three people in the year tops who knew my name before everything kicked off this past year. I'm not you, I'm not Stan Marsh, or Kyle Broflovski or Kenny McCormick or Eric Cartman. The ones who everyone knows, the popular ones who are always front and centre... No offence... There's really no point in me going to prom, I have nothing to celebrate but bad memories. Being bullied, orphaned and lonely..." He trails off, realising he wasn't making my 'down day' any better. "But you, you're a massive part of the school Stan. In fact, you for make the grade. You have since the beginning. If I wasn't for you, our grade would just consist of Craig's monotone, Jimmy's jokes and we'd all still be in fourth grade because no one would have the balls to slate Mr Garrison when he used to bang on about Courtney Love and hating pretty much any race, religion or life choice back in elementary school."

"It doesn't matter how much you blended into the shadows..." I shake my head at him. "It doesn't matter how many people know your name, or how big a part you play in everyone's lives. These last few weeks are about everyone. However big or little their contribution was. Without everyone, South Park wouldn't be what it is today and it wouldn't be what it has always been. Our grade wouldn't be the same, our lives wouldn't be the same. We need everyone there on that night... To say goodbye."

Kyle PoV

"Morning bubby." Mom enters the room and I check the clock, confused.

"It's 2pm." I point out and she just shrugs.

"I haven't seen you all day." She tells me, opening the door of the fridge. "I need to go food shopping... We've got barely anything left..."

"And let me guess, you're not gonna go because I can't be trusted to stay here on my own. Just in case I run away from home or invite some dashing young boy back to sleep in my bedroom." I take great pleasure and seeing her flinch at the gender pronoun. She looks physically sick for a few seconds and I roll my eyes. "Do I really repulse you that much?"

"You don't repulse me at all Kyle!" She exclaims. "I just... I just wish you could find a nice girl, like that Rebecca, or... What was her name? That um... Oh yes that Lesley girl."

"She was an ad." I put, bluntly. "She plotted against out town and tried to destroy it."

"Don't be sexist Kyle." She scolds and closes the fridge door. "Just because you think you're into boys, doesn't mean you can be sexist."

"I wasn't being sexist!" I retort. "And I don't 'think' I'm into boys. I am into boys. I wish I wasn't mom, I've prayed so many nights to really honestly beg I wasn't. But I am and I can't change that! I can't just pretend I'm something I'm not!"

"...And you're definitely not attracted to girls?" She sighs, gently, almost begging me. "You could be one of those bisexuals."

"I don't know..." I shake my head, leaning up against the kitchen counter and daring to look her in the eye. "I thought I was... But, I just don't feel that way. Like I do with... Like I do with Stan."

"Stan." The word falls off her tongue. "Oh... Stan."

A look of realisation flashes across her face.

"Mom... Remember when you and dad first met? Remember the sparks and the constant urge to be together. When you got that warm feeling inside whenever you see him. No, like sparks were erupting inside you and it made you so... Excited and nervous. The reluctance to say goodbye at the end of the day. The emptiness you felt when he did?" I recall, my heart sinking slightly as I said it. "Then you would go home and lie on your bed and just smile... Except I don't, I come back and cry, listening to songs which we both liked, which makes me cry more..."

"No." She frowns slightly as I trail off. "Because I didn't even like your dad at first, our parents wanted us together. Then in the end we thought 'fuck it, we're both Jewish, why not?'"

"Romantic..." I drone, flashing her a sarcastic smile and attempt to walk away before she stops me.

"But I can imagine how that must feel, because it felt like that when I was your age and fell for a girl in my class." She admits and I turn, my eyes widening. "At that time it feels like everything or nothing, like your life depends on it. You think about them all the time, every song you play, every night you lie in bed, you imagine what it would be like if life could be simple enough to grant your wish. Then you also get swamped in the guilt, because you know you're not supposed to feel that way, and it's not natural and worst of all, they will never ever feel that way about you, not because you're less popular or they have a girlfriend or boyfriend. But because they're straight and you're not. That's one of the hardest things to ever experience. That's true heartbreak, when you cry every night, punching your bed and hating yourself for feeling how everyone else is telling you, you shouldn't."

"Mom..." I hesitate, trying to process the fact that she had just summed everything up. "I..."

"I'm sorry Kyle." She shrugs. "I just didn't want you to go through that, I thought I'd worked to try and make sure you never ever felt that way and to think you do... I hate myself for it and I hate the fact my parents hated me for it. I wasn't a strong as you, I was told to be something I wasn't and over time I began to love your father and now, yeah I do, that girl is in the past, I hardly even think about her. But occasionally a song will come on or I'll stumble across a quote and she will pop into my head. I wonder what she's doing now, if she's married, what job she has, if she has her own children... Kyle... I'm so sorry... Oh I'm sorry I've been such a witch."

I couldn't quite believe what I had just heard and I stand there, completely frozen, confusion fizzling inside me.

"It's ok." I manage to utter, and we stand staring at each other for a few seconds, before she leans forward to give me a hug.

I completely forget for a second, too wrapped up in shock and stupidity, I let her hug me.

"Ah..." I suddenly yelp, a sharp sting rippling through my skin as her body collides with mine. She immediately moves backwards, worry on her face and I try to cover it up by smiling, but the pain in my expression gives it away.

"What's the matter?" She looks into my eyes before hers move down to the hem of my t-shirt. She waits for me to respond, but I struggle to find an excuse. She reaches out and lifts my t-shirt hesitantly.

I stand there and let her do it. Clenching my fist in agony. Both physically and mentally. She doesn't say anything for a while, she just stares, shocked at the bloody scars that coat my stomach. They were scabbing over now, I hadn't harmed in a few days. But they were still horrifically visible. I knew that without looking at them.

"Oh Kyle..." She lets the words out in one breath. Moving the tip of her thumb gently over my stomach, which I wince at. I could feel her hand shaking frantically, trying to steady it in order to strengthen herself, as if I was weakening more every second. "Why?"

"You've just summed up why." I tell her, trying to prevent myself from punching her hand away and running off. I do try to tug my shirt down again and she relents, pulling her hand away and looking at me, unsure of what to say for a while. Well that was a first.

"I love you no matter what." She confesses. "Straight, gay, atheist, Jewish, I don't care."

"Well I'm still Jewish." I force a smile and I see her mouth twinges slightly. "Even if I don't get to celebrate Christmas."

"Please... Please talk to me." She swallows. "If you feel like you'll do that again."

"You know what?" I sigh, daring to look her in the eye. "I think things are turning a corner, mom. I think... I think maybe I'm gonna be ok."

Bebe PoV

I'm glad Kenny storms through the door when he does, because Wendy's constant giggling at Oprah was giving me a rash, I was close to throwing the TV at the wall. I'm not glad, however, that he comes in with even more bruises on his face and a bloody nose.

"Where the hell have you been?" I snap at him, more aggressively than intended. "Has my dad been at you again?"

"Not your dad, no." He corrects me and I frown, going over to him at the slightest sound of a slur in his voice.

"Have you had a drink?" I practically yell, before he can explain, but he just looks at me blankly. "Kenny! I trusted you! Where the fuck did you get it from? I told Skeeters not to serve you anymore."

"It was a-" He begins, not even trying to cover it up.

"Then you get into a fight?" I scream, shoving him back against the wall, so angry that he had yet again broken my trust. All the lies he had said about trying for me and the baby.

"No, that was-" He attempts to explain again, but this time it wasn't me who cuts him off, as Cartman enters the house behind him, with Wendy clicking off the TV in sudden shock at how everything had erupted in the space of two minutes.

"Hello pals." Cartman waves, in his sarcastic tone that grated on me more than Wendy's laughter. The room is in silence now as we all just stare at Cartman, waiting with bated breath at what inconvenient news he was going to face us with now. "Just checking in to see how you all are, and that you got my recent email."

"Not now, twiggy." I snap at him, experimenting with a new nickname as the old one didn't really apply. Somehow it didn't really do it justice.

"Which is more than can be said for you." Cartman points at my stomach and I'm ready to charge at him before Kenny grabs my shoulders.

"I'd run whilst you can Cartman." Kenny mutters, but he doesn't look fazed in the slightest.

"Where's Stan?" He continues, ignoring my raging expression. "Banging Kyle?"

"More likely banging your mom." Kenny retorts and Wendy glares at the pair of them.

"He's at Douglas'." She informs Cartman.

"Oh so banging someone then." He grins at his own joke. "How's the titties, Wendy?"

"Mm." She just lets out a soft sound, flashing him a sarcastic smile.

"Woah." Stan stops abruptly before bumping into Cartman as he arrives on the doorstep. "What is this, some sort of party?"

"Yes, don't we all look excited?" I imitate Stan in an over exaggerated accent and he raises an eyebrow.

"Jesus Ken, what happened to your face?" He glances at my boyfriend, his eyes widening.

"My dad is back." He says, bluntly. "Pretty self explanatory."

"At least you have a dad." Cartman points out, trying to claim the sympathy.

"You have a dad." Kenny turns to him. "Your mom, remember?"

"Cute little throwback." Cartman shakes off the insult, turning back to all of us. "Anyway, just wanted to make sure you were all on for tomorrow."

"What's this even about?" Wendy asks the question on all of our minds.

"You'll see." He flicks his car keys in the air, casually, before turning and leaving. "I'm off to get cookies for you guys, not for me of course. See y'all tomorrow."

"What the fuck?" Stan frowns as he disappears and everyone glances at him in confusion.

"...Do you think he'll get chocolate cookies?" I pipe up and they all turn to look at me as I rub my tummy as an excuse. It was true, whatever Cartman was planning, it was fucking weird.

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