For a second, my glare
remains, giving a cover up of not knowing how to react to this.
Slowly, my expression fades into a look of denial. I shake my head
slowly. "You're lying." Stan doesn't respond, staring at
me. I narrow my eyes looking away. "You know you don't mean
"Were you not listening to me?" Stan snaps. I look back up to him, my hands fisting at either side. This is like starting all over again; like the first time I told him my secret. He's acting so heartless again. It's not like Stan to act like this. I guess I deserve it. But the last time I really saw Stan act like this was when I told him. And after the whole out burst, I found out the entire time he was lying to me. Maybe.. Maybe I need to prove him wrong once and for all. I remove the space from us, shoving forward and holding his wrists down at his sides. He jumps at once, trying to pull my hands from his wrists, but I disallow it, leaning in and our lips meeting. My heat just a back flip at once. It had been such a long time since we kissed, it felt so good to do it again. But I can tell Stan doesn't feel the same way as he snarls beneath my hold, fuming from furiosity. He yanks his head back as I decide to remove my hands, backing away. Stan doesn't bother to shoot a glare of out rage, he simply turns on his heel once he got the chance and stormed down the side walk. I turn my head, staring at the door. I let out a loud sigh.
"Smart move, Kyle." I breath. "You just made it hell of a lot worse."
I gaze aimlessly at the ceiling above me, the shadow of the rain splattered window reflecting against it. It's currenlty five in the morning and there is no chance of me sleeping right now. Despite my exhuastion, I can't fall asleep. A sigh escapes my mouth as I roll over onto my side, staring blankly at the empty space next to my bed. I try not to think about him. That's where he would sleep. I think to myself. God, Kyle! Shut up, thinking about it will make it worse! I groan, flipping around and burrying my face into my pillow. What the hell am I going to do? He might as well of died, because not only is my heart as broken as it would be if he was completelty gone like so, I highly doubt I'll ever speak, let a lone see him again. The only thing to do is hope for the impossible; Stan will forgive me. The sad thing is, it's not even likely for him to forgive me at my own funeral. What makes me think he'll forgive me when I'm breathing? I guess I just have to try my best to prove to Stan that I am sorry. That I want to take our relationship seriously. But what can I do? He's at home right now and probably dreaming of my death. Great.
I walk lazily downstairs, dragging my feet to the
kitchen. The smell of bacon and eggs fill my nostrils, the sound of
food sizzling ringing in my ears. I take a seat at the table,
accompanying my father and brother. Ike nibbles on a piece of toast,
looking over his homework which was probably commanded by my mother.
My father's nose is glued to the newspaper, removed every now and
then to take a sip from his mug. I glanced over to my mom. "Any
plans for today, ma?"
"Not really, bubby." she responds, turning around and making a plate for me. I watch as she sets the scrambled eggs and bacon onto my plate. "Why? Did you want to go hang out with your friends?"
"No." I say. "I thought I'd just spend the day with you guys."
"Oh, well that would be lovely, Kyle." she says with an honest grin, turning back around after filling everyones plates and setting the left overs on the counter. She takes a seat next to my dad, Ike already digging into his food at once.
"I was thinking we'd go to the mall and do some shopping for Hannikah." my father announces.
"That would be nice."
I nod, chewing on egg. "Sounds fine to me."
"I can take Ike to school and then we can go."
Ike looks up at once. "What? But I want to go with you!"
"Ike, you are going to school." she says. "It's your last day before you start your vacation."
Ike groans in response. "Okay. Fine."
I snort. "You just want to see what we get you."
"Not like it'll matter." I say. "It's the same thing you get every year. Football or a dreidal."
Ike gives a little titter, knowing this is correct.
We walk into the building,
the place packed. My mother drags us to a couple of stores, picking
up a few things here and there and moving onto the next store.
Everytime she says "Oh, I need to go here!" my father and I
give a loud groan, showing our displeasure of having to shop. But
finally, she allows us to take a seat on the bench, both of us
dropping the bags and plopping down onto the seat, heads rolling back
and legs stretched out. Sheila growls, folding her arms. "You
can't be the exhuasted."
"Shopping with you does this."
"Shopping with any girl." I correct.
"I did not raise my child to be sexist." she sneers. I look at her.
"I'm not sexist." I add in. "It's only fact."
My mom scowls. She decides to change the subject. "Kyle, here's some money. You can go and buy Stanley and your little friends something."
I never would have thought my mom would be telling me to go buy my friends a present. Kind of... weird. "No thanks."
"What, what, what?" she blinks. "Why not?"
"Kind of weird." I remark. "We all celebrate a completely different holiday. And I can't exactly buy them a present with out them laughing at me."
"Why would they laugh at you?" she gives a glare, turning into 'Bitch-Mother-Start-War' mode.
I roll my eyes. "Because they'll either pick on me for giving them a Hannikah present, pick on me for trying to give them a Christmas present, or pick on me and reminding me how cheap my family is." I prop my elbows up on the top of the bench.
My dad leans to me. "Just do it, it'll get her off your back. Besides, you're going to make her start another war, do you really want that?" With that, I quickly accept the money that is in my moms out stretched hand and scamper off before she can argue. I lift a hand as a thanks and quickly scramble away before she can change her mind. I can hear my mom's voice though, asking him what he meant by 'starting a war' and all of that. She's trying to tell him she's never done that before. Bah.
I continue through the mall, window shopping with the money shoved in my pocket. I stop once I find Juice It Up. I pull the money my mom gave me and blow some money on a strawberry smoothie. I don't hesitate to take a stop at Wetzal Pretzal, either, blowing some more money that was suppose to be for my friends. I take a seat at a bench by myself, pulling off a large peice of the pretzal and shoving it in my mouth. I lift my legs, folding them on the bench. Who am I going to get a present anyway? I don't really hang out with any of the guys enough to consider trying to get them a gift for the holidays. But whatever. My mom doesn't have to know that I blew the money on food. I can just walk home with out her knowing, and when she gets home herself, simply say that I had already given them the gift. Simple as that. Well, now that I have that sorted, and now that I'm bored as hell, I think I'll get going now. I pick up whats left of my pretzal, which is just the wrapper since I took such huge bites like what Cartman does, and toss it into the trash. I take a large sip from my smoothie, gulp it down and take another before tossing it away as well. But just as I do this, I nearly run into Wendy as I turn around. "Ah, sorry."
"It's okay." she responds. "I saw you over here and thought I'd say hi." she gives a friendly smile.
I glance down at the numerous bags she has a grip on, then back up to her. "Hi back." I say. "I see your Christmas shopping?"
Wendy nods. "Lucky me, majority of South Park is going to wait until the last minute."
I give a small laugh. "You're probably the only one that doesn't."
"Probably." She changes the topic. "So, I heard you and Eric got in a fight last night."
Yeah, you just dropped by to say 'hello'. "Well you heard wrong." I turn away, beginning to walk towards the exit. Thankfully, Wendy is more polite and decides not to follow me and beg me to give details. Great, Cartman and the other dickwods probably went around and told everyone.
It didn't take me long to decide to go see Stan,
wether he likes it or not. I wanna give apologizing another shot and
at least have a civilized talk with him. Maybe, if I'm lucky, he's
calmed down... and maybe a monkey will fly out of my ass.
Regardless, I need to try.
Sharon lets me into the house with a surprised stare. As I can see, Stan didn't bother to keep our little problem hush hush. As I walk up the steps, I hear the faint buzzing of an acoustic guitar. I walk to Stan's bedroom door, giving a sigh and quietly cracking it opening peeking in. He doesn't hear or see me, which is good. I want to have a chance to actually listen to him play the guitar for a little bit. He stops for a seond, jotting down some notes and then continueing the guitar. As the rythm picks up a little bit, he opens his mouth; "Feel as tears roll down my face. Walk a way a slow, slow pace. Hang your head and pass on by..." he pauses, thinking of the next lyric. "I know you have no aliby." I bite my lip. He's writing a song based on some shit relationship he had and someone had cheated on him. He's writing a song about us. Oh, great. That's a big 10/10 in the hurt department. Even better, he continues: "Hold my head between your hands, tell me 'Our love was true, I didn't mean to'... Well I'm sorry, I'm sorry. But I see right through you." he jots the lyrics down. Appearently, he's liking it. Stan clears his throat, strumming gently at the guitar. As I can see, he's starting over and replaying what he had just come up with. He stops as he finishes the chorus, glancing over at me. The final chord buzzes as he plucks it angrily. I open the door some more, sliding in. "What the hell are you doing here?" he snaps.
I shut the door, and I can tell he's not pleased by this action. Granted, he stands up, setting his instrument on his bed and placing his hands on his hips. I stare at him sheepishly. "I wanted to give apologizing another shot."
"Oh, you didn't think you did a great job the other night?"
I gnaw on my lip some more. "Hear me out, Stan! I didn't know what I was doing-"
"You knew exactly what you were doing!" he snarls. "How can you stand here and lie to my face?"
"Just leave me a lone, Kyle, I don't want to see you again!"
I grimace, looking away. "You were nice to me last night at the gas station... You know you don't want to stay so mad at me. You know you want us to be friends again. Or even more." I look up at him. "You know you still love me, as a friend, or as more. Regardless, you know you love me. But you don't want to, so you're trying to stay mad at me."
Stan glares. "Well you're wrong. The only reason I was nice to you was because you were crying over Kenny. And I'm not going to be an asshole when you're like that." His voice isn't intimidating when he says that, and his glare vanished right when he said 'The only reason'. He looks weak now. Actually more sad than angry.
"I don't know..." he sighs, sitting down and staring at the floor. I want to inch forward and sit with him, but I know he'll either tell me to leave or push me off instead. "I guess I just feel the same way about it. And I wouldn't want anyone to just ignore me in my time of need."
I give a half smile. "It's good to know someone agrees with me."
He looks up at me. "Don't make much of it." Stan quickly says. "That doesn't change anything. Just because I was a bit nice to you for a couple of minutes doesn't mean I forgave you." I can clearly see that. "Especially since you thought kissing me would make things better."
"I was hoping you wouldn't bring that up." I groan, holding my arms.
"Why the hell did you think that'd be okay? Let a lone all of it!"
I quickly drop my hands against my hips, holding them there. "One, I don't think any of this okay. I got drunk like a complete retard and did something insanely stupid."
"I agree with that."
"Ignoring your comment... Two, I didn't think kissing you in the middle of a fight would be good either. I guess-"
"You just couldn't
"Y-Yeah." I stutter.
Stan gives a loud laugh, rolling his eyes. "Since when did you turn into such a gaywod sap?"
I fume. "Since you let my whole liking you thing get in the way of our friendship."
"Woa, woa." he snaps, holding his hands up as a 'Slow down!' motion. "I was shocked at first. You didn't exactly prepare me for it."
"Well what was I suppose to do, just say: "Well, Stan. Before I tell you about my huge crush on you since I was twelve, I want you to stay calm and let you have a little thinker and maybe a drink or two. Then we can have a civilized conversation." I throw my hands out at my side. "Like you'd listen to me! I was calm about it, but you had to go and shove it in my face like the ass you are!"
Stan holds the bridge of his nose. "I thought you came here to apologize."
"I did! I came here
to give my honest to god apology and explain why it happened and sit
down and have a discussion with you about it. But no, you had to run
Stan jolts up. He's shouting now.. "Do you expect me to let you come to my house and do this to me? I've had enough of your bullshit, Kyle! I thought you would have figured it out by now. I don't love you anymore, let a lone want to see your face anymore!"
I'm shouting too. "You're lying! You know what you're saying isn't true! Whoop-De-Doo, Stanley Marsh finally got the talent to lie to someone!"
"Shut up!" he snaps.
"How intimidating." I hiss. "I don't care that you're trying to deny how you feel or whatever shit like that. I still love you and you still love me. Simple as that."
"You use your 'love'
once someone cheats on you."
"Damnit, Stan!" I cry. "I've told you this so many times now! I didn't mean to! It was a mistake! I was completely shit faced, pissed off at you-"
"Horny." he cuts in.
I feel my eye twitch once. "Maybe a little horny, and then Peter comes a long and is nice to me. You'd do the same thing!"
"No I wouldn't!"
"Wait, you have done the same thing."
"Don't bring this up Kyle." his voice is a whisper, the complete opposite of mine.
"Freshman year. You were dating Wendy." his face looks terrified. "This is the year you went on your drunken spree. We were at our first party and you took it over board. You got shit faced. So you took some random chick up to one of the rooms and fucked her. Then, after you realized how gay the party was, you jacked your dads keys and took his car for a spin."
"The same night you got your first D.U.I."
Stan doesn't look at me. His face is burried in his arms which rest against his knees. My face is bright red from anger, and soon enough, embaressment and shame. What did I just do? I promised him the next day that I would never bring that up... And here I go, making the situation even more worse.
"Stan... I'm.. I'm sorry."
"Maybe I'm taking this whole cheating thing worse because of that." he mumbles as he lifts his head some, eyes puffy. "Because I've been in your posistion... because I did the same thing to Wendy and she still doesn't know to this day. And if I was to tell her about it, this is how she would feel, which makes me feel even more worse." I do as I feared; inching forward and taking a seat next to him. He doesn't protest. "None of what I did was right. I've fucked up my life a lot, and I sure as hell have been trying to justify it and try to make it better. And the first time in your life you mess up, I don't want to face you, when I've done worse."
"That doesn't make what I did right." I murmur.
"You're right. It doesn't." Stan looks at me. "But at least I know it could have been worse... And it's the first time, and probably last time you'll ever do it."
"I forgive you, Kyle."
I blink. That was more easy than I thought. Next time I need to be forgiven, I'll just smash peoples secrets in their faces. "Just like that?"
"Yeah, sure." he mutters. "You got drunk. Like me. You did something horrible. Like me. And then.. you were nice to me and told me what happened, while you could have easily token my car, gotten yourself in huge as trouble, and then decide to never tell me."
"I don't get it." I sigh.
"Yeah, well... Take the forgiveness before I change my mind."
I chuckle. "All right. I take the forgiveness."