Do I Wanna Know?

"Well, this is it." I look around the huge foyer in slight fascination at the statues that are placed in various places around the room before following Red into another nearby room. Her house resembles mine in taste, but other than its slightly smaller in size the colors within each room she shows me is either a light blue or grey. Only when Red pushes open another white door that I am overwhelmed with crimson red and black. Her room is oddly more spacious than any of the guest rooms she's showed me.

She closes the door behind us and unceremoniously dumps her book bag on her floor next to her canopy bed before heaving a heavy sigh and falling face first onto it. I laugh at her weird antics that I've grown accustomed to by now.

"Where is everyone?" I ask as I sit in the red sofa facing her bed. She doesn't answer, but instead flips over and spread her fingers out as if she was trying to reach her abandoned book bag that sits less than two meters away. She continues and with a mock sigh of my own I pick it up before chucking the heavy bag at her.

"Hey!" She whines before quickly opening it and removing her science book. "I have books in here!"

"I know."

"Why you so mean to me Toke?" I don't even bother berating her for her laziness as she continues to pull out books from her bag while lying down. "Entertain me, how was your day today?"

"Normal, nothing special happened," Red gives me a look as I lean back against the fairly comfy sofa.

"Fine," I say hoping her glare would let up, "Nicole wanted me to make a final decision on what college I'm going to attend."

"Okay, so what's the problem?"

"The problem is that I don't know where I wanna go."

"Have you thought about it?"

"Have you?" Red just stares at me before sitting up and crossing her legs. "Token, no, I haven't, but that's because I'm pretty sure I wouldn't get accepted to any of the good schools. But you have a chance to go anywhere, with your stellar grades and all."

"You're grades are steadily improving," I comment, not liking her train of thought.

"But what about the fact that I've practically been a 'C' student all my life. What college would want to take a girl whose extracurricular activities include fucking in the janitor's closet and gym bathrooms?

"There's plenty of clubs you can still join."

Red shakes her head and flips through the notebook on her lap, "You don't get it."

"I do-"

"You don't. Why are you so worried about me going to college anyway? Maybe I don't want to."

"You should."

"Thank you for the words of wisdom Toke, but we're not talking about me."

"No, I haven't thought about," I answer Red's previous question.

"What are you unsure about?"

I think about it. Really think about it. I mean it's been the part of the plan from the start...just not my plan. My parents want me to attend their alumni college and occasionally offer to order the school's attire and knick knacks and what not, but I always decline easily writing it off as not wanting to make space in my closet to do so and waiting for Nicole to decide. But of course Nicole wants to go to school somewhere in New York or San Francisco, I'm not really sure and can't be bothered to ask although I've agreed to it, stating that it's 'perfect' when asked.

Sometimes I contemplate how long it'll be before the lies run out and they finally force me to choose. I honestly would be fine attending a community college somewhere, but when I expressed the idea to my parents they merely laughed in my face before stating that it would purely be a waste of time. That was sophomore year and I'm nowhere closer in my decision than I was then.

Looking at the red Mickey Mouse clock on Red's wall I notice that almost ten minutes have passed and during the entire duration I've been completely zoned out. Looking over at Red she doesn't look perturbed in the least, most likely used to my spacing out as she continues to scribble in her notebook, science book opened on the assigned chapters from her class.

I smile at the look of concentration on her face. It's weird to think that I could help her, that I have and that she's actually making better grades. Earlier this week she showed me her math test score with a triumphant smile and I don't think I've ever been so proud. And as I watch her now, not having to worry about whether or not she's actually going to do her homework and study I feel accomplished at my job as her tutor.

"Can I help you with something?" Red asks, a smile curving the corners of her lips up.

"No, do you need any help?"

"No, I got it. Don't you have any homework you need to do, Mr. Workaholic?"

"I've done it already. I should be good up until the first week of December."

"You do realize that it's still October, right?"

"Yes, Rebecca I do." She finish writing something before flinging her pencil at my head, but I easily dodge it.

"You're lucky I finished some of my homework in the library while waiting for you. What do you guys even talk about in the debate club anyway?" Red asks as she closes her book and stuffs it back into her book bag along with her notebook.

"We debate about things such as global issues, current events and anything that may be considered controversial. Each team must form an argument based off of whatever subject is chosen and present it to everyone."

"That just sounds more like a public speaking class. Why be in a club that forces you to do more work and research when we all have enough school work as it is?"

"It's fun," Red rolls her eyes at me before standing off of her bed and going over to a black desk that is cluttered with various lotion bottles, bracelets, empty packs of candy, and even a brownie box to retrieve her red laptop. She sits next to me and pulls up a video of a man who gets stuck in a crib with a baby. It's hilarious, and awfully random, but what isn't when it comes to Red. Even coming to her house was random. We usually hang out at my house, but when she insisted we go to her's I can admit I was curious.

(*)

We continue to watch random videos on her tumblr page and she reblogs a couple things before an alarm goes off. She searches her side blue jean pockets to silence the insistent ringing, but comes up empty handed before rolling her eyes and reaching into her back pocket and finally silences her phone. She hands me the computer, but I close it not really interested in it as she stands and begin digging into her closet for something.

"What's wrong?" I finally ask as Red throws out a pair of black bulky work shoes. I stand and neatly straighten them up as she throws a black hat at me. I catch it and straighten it out from its crushed state, but I'm distracted by Red's words to see the logo printed on the front..

"I gotta go," Is all Red says as she sits on her bed and pull on the black shoes and politely takes the hat from me and slides it on her red head before slipping her ponytail out the back.

"Wait, where are you even going?"

Red finally takes a breather before staring at me, "To work," At her words I finally zone into the yellow logo printed on her hat. Harbucks.

"You have a job?" I ask surprised.

"Yeah, I have to," She averts her eyes before continuing, "I have to," She finally settles on before opening her bedroom door and hurrying down the stairs and I follow her not satisfied with that explanation.

"Okay, but why?"

"I just do," She weaves through many rooms, grabbing a sparkly grey scarf and wrapping it around her neck a few times before letting the ends hang down on top her black zip-up jacket before finally going to the foyer. She clutches her car keys in hand and gets as far as opening the door before I close it abruptly.

With a sigh she turns around to face me, "I have to go."

"I get that, but you can't just-"

"I can't just what? I have a job Token. And I have to work to keep that job because I need money for things."

I try not to let Red's abrupt mood change affect me nor the brief, but blunt way in which she now speaks. She tries to open the door again, but I shut it again, "Rebecca."

"What?!"

"Where are your parents?" I ask and hoping her predicament leaves her no choice, but to answer. Red stares at me hard for a while before her shoulders visibly sags as all of the tension within her slowly evaporates.

"Gone."

"Gone where? To work?"

"No, I mean gone. Never coming back. Gone." I'm silent at this. Completely taken aback at the prospect that Red's parents aren't around.

I steady my voice before asking, "Do you know where?"

"I can't," She responds shortly.

"Where are they?" I'm trying not to let my frustration at the situation out on Red, but it's becoming harder the more I think about it.

"They're staying with my grandparents in Michigan."

"Why?"

"I don't know. I just woke up one morning and there was a note on the kitchen table," I can't find the words to say anything to that as Red continues, "They left me three envelopes stuffed to the brim with money, they said to use it in case of emergencies."

"So, you don't have any contact or support from them?" I can barely register the words flowing from my mouth at this point.

"They sometimes send me money, but I just stuff them in envelopes. They take care of the house. B-but."

"But what?"

"I take care of everything else," Red answers after a moment.

"Red…"

She finally looks away for a moment before looking back at me, tears steadily dripping from her eyes before smiling at me sadly, "At least I don't have to worry about freezing to death or living without lights. I don't think..I know I wouldn't be able to." Red continues to try to smile, but fails as more tears pour from her red eyes, "I didn't want you to know." I shake my head before pulling her into a tight hug as she continues to break down in my arms. I can't even begin to fathom the idea of being abandoned by your own parents. Who just leaves their own child to fend for themselves?! Fuck the money.

"Y-you can't live like this," I state finally and Red pulls away from my hold to look at me.

"No," She shakes her head. "No, this is my house."

"But you have to," It's becoming harder and harder to stay steady about this, "This is not right. You shouldn't have to live like this. Alone."

"It's fine," Red takes a shaky breath, "I-I'm okay. Seriously." I still stare at Red unrelenting. She grabs my shoulders and pulls us closer, her forehead against mine, "Listen, I'm okay. I swear. I've made it this far, right?" She gives a determined smile, but her eyes aren't into it.

"It's not funny."

"You're right it's not," She sniffles loudly before shrugging almost hopelessly, "But I have to laugh because if I don't I'd cry. ...Think about it, we're both basically latchkey kids the only difference is that you're parents actually come home," She laughs and I can't bring myself to as I take her wet cheeks in my palms, lifting her face to look at me again.

"It's funny how we're even friends."

"Maybe that's why," I hear myself say. I continue as I wipe the lone tear that drops from her eye onto the edge of her right cheek, "We can relate to each other."

"It's funny, right?" She smiles, once again coaxing me to make light of this. I can't, but I find myself slightly nodding anyway.

"Yes."

"Okay," I let go of her and she moves back as she wipes the remnants of tears from her eyes. "I have to go now." She braces the door knob again and takes a deep breath before leaving. And as the heavy wooden door shuts behind her there is nothing, but a deafening silence and I can't help, but think that this is what she has to look forward to every night she comes home. Silence.

I leave moments later when standing in a cold and empty house becomes too much and as I'm starting up my car I try to place myself in Red shoes...but I can't. She was right, I don't get it. And I doubt that I really understand anything at all.

You know, if this wasn't so awkward I would laugh. But I do so anyway because I'm not the central focus of Kenny's intense glare. As I stand behind Kenny who is perched on the edge of his seat on his side of the sectional sofa I feel only slightly bad for the two individuals facing us.

"Is this really necessary?" Karen asks in exasperation.

"Yeah, I'm not a criminal or anythin-" Filmore starts.

"I'll be the judge of that," Kenny interrupts and I smack him on the shoulder.

"Why'd you say that?" I ask him.

Kenny shrugs before responding, "It just sounded good, I guess." Turning back around to face the two annoyed teens he clears his throat before speaking, "I just want you to know that whatever you do don't hurt her. Okay? This will be the only warning you're going to get. I don't plan to know too much about your relationship because I'm not in it nor do I want to be with two little snot noses, but if I see or hear that you've done something out of line I won't hesitate to beat you within every inch of your life, counting the days you spent inside of your mama's womb, got that?"

"I think he got it," Karen says disgruntled, but I can tell from the slight quirking of her lips that she's not that upset about Kenny threatening her boyfriend and ruining her movie night.

"Yeah, I-I get you. I mean I understand," Filmore agrees and it's a real shame how his voice shakes at that, but knowing Kenny he won't hound the boy any further. Just as long as he heed and beware of Kenny words because the guy can literally snatch you while you sleep. And people still question why Cartman ended up bruised and battered in a warehouse on the outskirts of town during sophomore year. It's best not to mess with someone as stealthy and supple as Kenny

"Well," Kenny brightens, "As long as you know where I stand then," Kenny stands and pats Filmore on the back before moving towards the front door with me in tow.

Once we're outside Kenny locks the door behind him and we walk the short pathway to the driveway before entering his Mustang.

"Well, that was super pleasant," I can't help but comment as Kenny backs out of his driveway and heads in the direction of Craig's house.

Kenny snorts, "Hardly. Are you sure you're cool with coming to this party with me?"

"Yeah, why wouldn't I?" Kenny gives me a brief look. "A party is a party so why not?"

"Uh huh, maybe you should tell me something else, but really sell it to me this time Kyle."

"Fine, if you really want to know...he invited me."

"What? You're joking right?"

"No."

"Then...but why?"

"I don't know."

"Outside of tutoring I didn't know you guys were talking-"

"We're not," I'm quickly to correct, "He just told me I could because all of our friends are."

"So it was that simple," Kenny asks skeptically and I nod.

"Yeah dude."

"Cool," Kenny says and like that it's over with and I'm grateful for the loss of tension. Suddenly, Kenny's phone rings and he picks it up with one hand from the space between us and answers it.

"Hello," Kenny greets whoever is on the other side.

"Where are you fuckers?!" Craig's voice shouts through the phone's speaker. I glance at the time on Kenny's dashboard and it's a couple minutes after nine.

"The party didn't officially start until nine, so what's the big deal?" Kenny asks as he speedily maneuvers through cars and turns a couple corners leading to Craig's house.

"The problem is you're not here and I refuse to hear Stan bitch and moan about you not showing up to wish him a goddamn happy birthday."

"Relax," Is all Kenny replies with as we arrive at Craig's house and he parks behind Butters' white volkswagen gti. We exit and spot Craig on the porch, phone still glued to his ear until he see's us make our way up his driveway.

"You could've told me you were around the corner," He says and I know he's annoyed. Although, Craig's been on edge all week about this party. I'm just happy to not have been one of the underclassmen who agreed to help with this party. Nevertheless it's great how determined he is to make this day perfect for Stan.

"No worries," Kenny says wrapping Craig into a hug, "Right?"

"Whatever," Craig mutters as Kenny begins rocking them both from side to side. He rolls his eyes before focusing them on me, "Hey Kyle, what are you doing here?"

"Stan invited him," Kenny answers and I elbow him, none too gently.

Craig's eyes widen at that and it would look comical considering Kenny's still wrapped onto him, but I really don't want to talk about this. Thankfully Craig see's this and doesn't question me further. "Well, I'm glad you came dude."

"Hey, Craig?" Some guy calls from inside as Kenny finally detaches himself from Craig.

"Yeah?"

"You might want to come inside the kitchen. A couple of the guys broke about three bottles of Jagermeister."

"Fuck, goddamnit," Craig curses before walking back inside and with a shrug Kenny and I finally walk into the party.

As we enter there are cheers and shouts that greet us in acknowledgement and surprisingly the party seems to be in full effect right now which is rare. Its rare that I even showed up on time to a party, I'm usually an hour late at the most, because that's usually when everyone's had their fill of drinks and tend to be more relaxed. But I stand corrected as I watch two completely obliterated girls fall all over each before making out against the banister. A few guys watch and most people roll their eyes at the display.

Kenny and I continue to move through the crowd before entering the kitchen and noticing two guys wiping up what I assume is spilt liquor and more cheering. As we grow closer to the group we see that its Stan slamming down shots of what looks like Jameson whisky.

"Fourteen!" The group shouts and I settle in next to Clyde.

"What is he doing?" I ask as Stan downs another shot, the glass slamming down on the large wooden table loudly.

Clyde doesn't even give me a once over before excitedly replying with, "He's gonna take eighteen shots. One for each year!"

"Come on Stan, you got it. Just two more!" Someone in the fairly large circle shouts. I watch as Stan continues to knock down shots and I'm impressed. When Stan is close to the end of the shots that are lined up on the table, he makes a face before slamming down the last two shots in rapid succession.

"Eighteen!" Everyone screams and weirdly enough I find myself screaming amongst everyone as well. All the guys slap Stan on the back with cheers of happy birthday before the crowd begins to dwindle down.

"Happy Birthday!" Kenny says as he wraps his arm around Stan's neck from behind. Stan turns around with a bright smile at that, his face flushed from all the alcohol.

"Thanks Ken," His eyes glaze over me, "Glad you could make it. You both I mean."

"Of course dude, why would I miss my best bud's eighteenth birthday?"

"This is going to be awesome," Stan comments again, his smile never faltering as his gaze stays locked with mine before being pulled away by Kenny somewhere outside of the kitchen.

(*)

After about three drinks I'm finally feeling the buzz I've been craving for a while and as I down another cup of Jose Cuervo I come to the startling realization that I'm actually enjoying myself. Right now I'm hanging with Token and Clyde and we embarrassingly enough dance to the music blasting from the house speakers, but no one really cares because by this point I think most people already have a buzz or are just flat out drunk. Annoyingly enough my eyes continue to wonder to Stan throughout the night and each time his blue eyes always meets mine. Fuck. I need a refill.

I break away from the group and wander back into the kitchen to make another drink. I open a new bottle of tequila and pour it in my cup before sharing it with a few girls next to me. I flirt with them until I have to refill my cup again and instead of returning to the heated living room I exit out of Craig's back door and onto the large deck. There are a few individuals milling about out here, but they honestly look too drunk to do anything other than slump over in the wooden adirondack lounge chairs and matching trestle table. The gust of cool air is amazing on my body, not having noticed how hot I was until now. I close my eyes as I try to savor the taste of tequila in my mouth as I swallow another mouthful.

The sound of a shout catches my attention enough for me to round the corner of Craig's backyard to the side of his house. The shouting wasn't too loud to call attention to everyone, but the voice is what brought my attention. I stand meters away, but I doubt it would really matter seeing as how Tweek and Craig seem to be an heated discussion. I can't see Tweek's face and I bite my lip hoping Craig doesn't look up and see me staring from behind the side of his house.

"What do you want from me!"

"I want to know why you're being like this?! Is that so hard to answer!"

"Nothing. Nothing, nothing, nothing! So stop being such a jerk to me!"

"Oh, so now I'm being a jerk? I've been practically begging you to tell me what's wrong. It seems like since that damn party all you want to do is push me away. Hell, since this summer all we've done is argue more and more."

"Its because you keep assuming that something is wrong when it's not. So stop. It."

Craig looks at Tweek albeit hopelessly, "You said I didn't know everything."

"What?"

"At the party...you said there are a lot of things I don't know about you."

"And? I'm failing to see why you're saying this."

"What are you hiding?"

"You don't have to know everything about me. Everything you need to know you know."

"Why won't you just tell me? Do you not trust me?"

"For fuck's sake Craig!" Tweek throws his hands up, sounding a bit hysterical now. "Stop hounding me! I'm not your boyfriend... so stop treating me like this. Stop wanting me to spend every waking hour with you, stop...treating me the way you do." Craig just stares at Tweek, face hard, but his grey eyes show something on the lines of heartbreak and I decide to leave, not wanting to intrude anymore than I have.

As I make my way back inside I dump my empty cup in the trash before deciding to head down to the basement. Inside a few guys are playing pool, cards, and are watching TV. Cartman's sitting in Craig's dad leather lounge chair and I sit next to him on the matching sofa and watch TV for a moment.

"When did you get here?"

"A few hours ago. I said my congrats to the hippie before coming down here. What're you doing here?"

Unlike Kenny and Craig I do not trust Cartman with this enough to answer because whether he likes to admit it or not he's too damn inquisitive for his own good sometimes. And the last thing I need is him trying to figure me out. Ignoring his question I continue to watch the screen in front of us, he doesn't say anything to that and I didn't expect him to.

Eventually I leave when Cartman's piercing glares become too much and I don't dare look back. Upstairs I can say I'm relieved to feel the overwhelming heat searing my skin again, but it doesn't last as I make my way upstairs and to Craig's bedroom. Its locked, but I reach on top of the door to retrieve the key and open it before sliding it back place on top of the door frame. I walk over a few of Craig's scattered clothes before planting myself on his comfy bed.

I stare at the blank ceiling for a moment wondering why I even showed up, but it doesn't last long when I hear Craig's bedroom door unlock. I stare at Stan as he enters the room and soundlessly closes and locks it behind him. What does he even think he's doing?

"What are you doing?" I ask and my voice sounds so quiet in this large dark room.

He surprisingly sits nexts to me on the bed as I eye him suspiciously, "I saw you come up here, so I figured you'd be in Craig's room. Looks like I was right."

"Why are you here? You have about a hundred people downstairs, there's an entire party for you happening."

"I know and that's awesome, but I...honestly," Stan pauses and sighs heavily. I sit up and try to make it look as natural as I can as I walk to one of the windows in the room and open it. Digging into my dark leather jacket's left pocket as I perch myself on the sill I remove my skull lighter and cigarette packet.

Sliding one out I rest it on the edge of my clasped lips as I light it, the flame warming my slightly cupped hands before I replace it back into my jacket. I inhale deeply before watching the smoke waft from my lips and out into the cold night. I'm still waiting. Waiting for Stan to say something.

"I wanted to talk."

"About what?" I ask, but as I continue to smoke Stan continues to stare at his shoes nervously. Am I really that intimidating? Good, I thrive off of it. Not.

"Us. I know that we've been getting along so well lately, and crazily enough you even came to my birthday party, but…"

"But what?"

"Look, I'm never gonna be brave enough to do this again so I'll just ask, Why? Why do you hate me so much? Why did you forget about us?"

I feel like the only thing keeping me together right now is this burning stick between my fingers. How dare he ask me this and after...after all this time? Fuck, I should've seen this coming! I just didn't think he would have the guts to ever ask me. "Why now?"

"I-I don't know. I just know that I need to."

"Do you want the truth?"

It's silent for a moment before Stan replies with one word, "Yes."

With one last drag and release I stub my cigarette out before flinging it out of the window and slamming it shut, "You hurt me."

"H-how-" I glance at Stan briefly, my face showing him that I will not take to being interrupted again.

It takes me a moment to gather my thoughts again. Everytime I think I can do it, I'm stopped by the foreign overwhelming feeling in my chest that I can't find the means to identify.

Finally finding my footing (figuratively) I continue, "Maybe it was my fault, but I trusted you. I trusted you way too much. I trusted that you would be honest with me and that you wouldn't lead me on. And even after my 'little' blow up that day in the cafeteria I still couldn't believe that you had lied to my face. I blamed Wendy for a while, but I eventually realized that it wasn't her fault. It was yours."

"What did I...do?"

"You really don't remember?" I shake my head, my fingers itching for another cigarette.

"Kye…"

"Don't. You don't get to fucking call me that anymore!"

"Tell me," Stan pleads.

"You fucked her. You had sex with Wendy and you lead me on. You knew how I felt about you...you knew, but you did it anyway and you didn't even have the guts to tell me to my face. And when I confronted you about it you lied to me. Everyone knew, but me," I can barely look at him without wanting to beat him into a pulp right now.

"No, Kyle, I didn't." Stan stands and I turn away from him as he walks towards me.

"Stop, don't lie to me!" I practically scream as he comes closer to me.

"I didn't Kyle," He repeats. "God, I wouldn't do that to you!"

"You did."

"No, stop saying that!" I can do nothing, but stare motionlessly at Stan as his helpless cerulean eyes bore deep into mine. "I didn't fuck you over. I wouldn't do that to you, I care too much about you to do that."

"Then why? Why didn't you call me back that night, I called you at least a hundred times," My eyes burn at the memory, but I refuse to cry in front of him. He will never see me like this. "Why didn't you call me the next day and the days after and why didn't you just talk to me!" Stan stares at me and I roll my red eyes at how helpless he looks. Fuck! I said I wouldn't cry. I thought I was over this.

"I wanted to. But how could I, you were too far gone. You already had it made up in your mind that somehow I messed up, but what about you, I'm not the only one at fault here!"

"What?! What did I ever do to you?"

"You scream to me how much I hurt you, and how much you cared about me, but you never really-"

I quickly stand from my position on the window, "I never really what, loved you?" Stan continues to stare at me and I'm about three seconds away from punching him in his face. "Are you serious?! I literally almost came out to my parents for you! All I could think about was you, and how you felt and what you wanted. And you have the audacity to say I never loved you, y-you-"

"You said it. You said you never loved me…"

"I never said that."

"You did and I could barely even look at you let alone speak to you. We were so wrong, I was still in a relationship for chrissakes and you were fucking Bebe and I...I don't know what I was thinking. So I admit it, I backed out at the last minute, but I refused to let us go up in flames."

"We did go up in flames."

"I never expected to lose you! I was trying to save our friendship."

"Whether you realized it or not Stan the moment we told each other how we felt there was no going back."

"Oh, fuck you Kyle."

"Fuck me? It's true. You wanted the truth, there it is." It's silent now, but the anger inside of me is still toppling over.

"What do you want Kyle? I'm sorry, okay," Stan finally says and he's no longer screaming at me though I wish he was. I really just wish he would leave me alone. "I'm so fucking sorry for not wanting to risk my friendship with you. I'm sorry that when I realized that this wouldn't work that I backed out. I'm sorry."

"Just go away," I say at last, completely done with this conversation.

"No," Stan replies stubbornly and I move closer to him. My stance would be intimidating to anyone else, but he looks unaffected as he glares at me.

"Go. Away," I repeat and we're somewhat chest to chest now, but he still shows no signs of backing down.

"No."

We continue to glare at each other and I hate it. I hate the way he makes me feel. He makes want to claw my skin off with his piercing stares that always seem to pick up on everything I'm trying to hide. I hate that he's the only one that can get to me like this. It's sickening that even after all this time I continue to let him get away with this crap, but it won't last. Not for long, that is. It can't. I try to convince myself of this as I stand my ground, needing him to back off. Christ, what did I ever see in those blue eyes anyway?

I find myself always looking in them for something... a reason for why I fell for them in the first place...the reason I even fell for him. My chest is beating loudly in my chest and my breathing is still somewhat labored, but I'm still searching. Searching once again for a reason as to why I feel this way. It just will not go away, it's like a leech, draining me of any rational thought or reasoning, but I continuously crave for it with a numbing desperation. Fuck it, I've had enough. I've had enough of this.

Wrapping my hand around the base of Stan's neck I smash our lips together in a hard and bruising kiss. After a few seconds his lips move, matching mine in desperation. He practically rips my bottom lip off before diving back in for more and causing our teeth to crash together. We pull away when the need for air becomes too desperate and stare at each other before I lick his upper lip teasingly.

He pecks me in rapid succession and I open my mouth, letting our tongues clash together in a tangle. We fight for dominance and I refuse to be beaten as he pulls on the sleeves of my jacket before deciding to slide the damn thing off of me. I crawl my hand that's wrapped around his neck slowly upwards to bury it in his hair before pulling hard, causing his head to jerk backwards roughly.

Even from upstairs with the door locked shut I can still hear the speakers blasting Do I Wanna Know by the Arctic Monkeys and the bass seems to increase the more enraptured I become at the sight of Stan's red lips as we catch our breaths before ultimately reconnecting our mouths again, and I attack his with more ferocity than before. He bites hard on my lips and I'm pretty sure he's broken the vessel by now, but I refuse to detach. The burning I feel just seems to escalate further and further until suddenly Stan's hands that were once gripping my hips now pushes me away and detaches our mouths in the process.

I laugh, "That wasn't very nice."

"It wasn't supposed to be."

"Do you have any clue what you're doing?" I ask looking him up and down.

"You're the one who kissed me," He replies a small smirk curving his lips.

"You kissed me back," I lick over my bottom lip tasting the metallic flavor of blood. Damn.

"You wanted it."

"You wanted it more."

"Are you sure about that."

"Positive," I move in closer to Stan and he lets me as I kiss him from his earlobe down to his neck.

"So cocky," He comments.

"Shut up, you love it." I continue to trail kisses down the birthday boys neck. Wondering what else he'd let me do.

"You think you're so hot and I hate it because I know it too." I bite him hard, not enough to break skin, but the grip he has on my shirt tightens. "Fuck."

"Watch your fucking mouth," I accentuate each word with a kiss on the lips and Stan just growls before kissing me hard, our tongues once again rubbing sensually against each other. I feel like an absolute mad man...his kisses driving me insane.

"Do you wanna…?" I ask as we pull away again and Stan looks me in the eyes as if searching for some type of answer, but a loud ringing interrupts him as he opens his mouth to speak. Both of our eyes travel to the source of the ringing before Stan makes the conscious decision to answer it.

"Hello," Stan answers and his voice is hard along with something else that prominently stands out through his fitted jeans. "Fine," Is all Stan says after a moment has passed before stuffing his phone in his back pocket.

He looks up and our eyes meet as he comes closer, he bites his lip and I suddenly wish I was biting those red swollen lips of his, "I gotta go, everyone wants me to cut the cake." I don't even question the fact that Craig got an actual cake and that it wasn't ruined by some drunken shithead. I nod and Stan continues to worry his bottom lip as if he is debating whether to leave or not. In the end rational thought wins out and with one soft kiss against my lips he's pulling away and exiting Craig's bedroom.

I wait about five minutes before exiting myself and as I make my way downstairs past all the sweaty drunken bodies and to the front door I feel a tap on my shoulder. Looking to my left I spot Damien and Pip oddly standing there as if they just arrived and I wouldn't put it past them to always make some sort of grand entrance. Pip seems to have been the one to tap me as he fixes my shirt and gently pushes a loose curl back on top of my head before smiling brightly at me. Damien does the same, but of course his is far less innocent than what it seems.

"Leaving so soon Kyle?"

"Yeah I…" I trail off not really knowing how to complete my thought.

"Well don't let us stop you. Hope to be seeing you soon though," Damien continues not in the least bothered by my frazzled state.

"Me too," I reply trying to, but failing to ignore the knowing look he gives me before quickly stepping out of the foyer and into the outside air.

The look Damien gave me...he knows what happened. And somehow I just know that I'm fucked.