1 a: intense hostility and aversion usually deriving from fear, anger, or sense of injury b: extreme dislike or antipathy : loathing had a great hate of hard work

2: an object of hatred a generation whose finest hate had been big business


1 a (1): strong affection for another arising out of kinship or personal ties maternal love for a child

(2): attraction based on sexual desire : affection and tenderness felt by lovers

(3): affection based on admiration, benevolence, or common interests love for his old schoolmates b: an assurance of love give her my love2: warm attachment, enthusiasm, or devotion love of the sea


Where exactly does that line lie?
The tiny, indiscriminant, almost nonexistent line between hate and love… where is it? When do you know the difference? When does one stop and the other begin?

Is there truly a way to tell, or are they in essence, the same?


Beep- Beep- Beep-

Kyle's eyes reluctantly opened. He sleepily reached his arm out to his bedside table and tried to hit the alarm clock, turning it off. The alarm continued to beep and vibrate until it danced off the table, and hit the floor with a thud. Kyle groaned angrily and rolled to the side of the bed, groping for the clock under his bed. Eventually, he brushed up against it, grabbed it and slammed it angrily against the floor, turning it off.

God… Damnit… Kyle thought angrily, rolling onto his back and putting his hand over his eyes. It can't fucking be six thirty…

"KYLE!" His mother's shrieking voice traveled through the paper-thin walls and through the cracks underneath room door. "GET UP, IT'S TIME FOR SCHOOL! UP, BUBBALA!"

Kyle inwardly groaned and threw the sheets off of him, swinging his feet over the side of the bed.

"I really… hate Mondays," he mumbled to himself as wiped his face with his hand. His curly red hair fell in his face as he stood up, shakily. The room swayed in front of him (a side effect from standing too quickly) and he attempted to regain his balance. He glanced around his room. It really hadn't changed much in the last seven years.

The same royal blue wallpaper adorned his walls, with the same purple lamp next to his bed. Now, though, he had his own library lining the walls of his room, with everything from Anderson, to Longfellow, Poe, Hugo and Melville. He also obtained a laptop about two years ago, which frequently changed locations from his bed to his desk, and vice versa.

A long mirror stood next to his closet, from which his clothes toppled out. Kyle grabbed the first pair of jeans he saw, and pulled them on (he only slept in his boxers now), followed by a grey shirt. On his closet door hung his recently-washed orange jacket. Another thing that hadn't changed. He roughly put his arms through the sleeves and zipped it up, completely hiding his shirt underneath it.

Finally, he pulled his trusty green hat over his hair and ears, to complete his outfit, and glanced at himself in the mirror, to make sure there was no leftover hair poking out underneath it. He really didn't like his hair.

Same as every day, he thought glumly, same as always…

He grabbed his backpack off the floor, filled with his homework from the weekend, swung it over his shoulder and walked out of the room.

Everything is the same.


South Park High School. It had classes just as small as the elementary and middle school levels, but still just as lacking in funds for new teachers or renovations. Nothing really had changed in Kyle's eleven year school life there- even the teachers graduated with the students, staying with their classes, grades one through twelve. No one was exactly thrilled to hear that their class would be keeping Mr. Garrison as their permanent teacher their whole time in the South Park education system, but nevertheless, the same students came back every year, to the same school, in the same, cold, snowy Colorado town.

"Kyle!" Stan waved happily from the front of the school, after seeing his best friend walk around the corner from his house. Kyle smiled and waved back, trotting up to his friend.

"What's up? How was your weekend?" Stan asked as he patted Kyle on the back, grinning from ear to ear.

"Eh, it was okay, nothing really going on. You?" Kyle asked, glancing back at his friend.

"Ah, same ol' same ol'. Got asked out last night, by Bebe, again, but I turned her down… again," he smiled through his black hair at Kyle. Long ago had he abandoned his blue poof ball hat, in favor of just the hair on his head. Wendy told him she preferred that a few years before, and he had really taken it to heart, continuing with the look even after their many break ups.

"She's being persistent, isn't she?" Kyle asked mockingly, walking with Stan through the entrance doors of their school.

"God, why the hell can't she just take the hint? I went out with her once, but come on!" Stan said exasperatedly. Kyle laughed at his friend. They walked down the halls, passing various classmates on their way to Stan's locker. "I mean, there was no chemistry! It's not my fault!"

"You're just too popular, Stan. Maybe you should tone down the level of your perfection, then they might not be flocking to you every day," Kyle said sarcastically.

"Shut up, Idiot," Stan said, smiling. Kyle laughed again.

"You seem to be an awfully good mood for someone that was dumped two weeks ago," someone said from behind the two boys. Kyle glanced over his shoulder, and smiled in recognition of the blonde.

"Hey Kenny," Kyle said, as Kenny walked between him and Stan. Kenny hadn't changed much either- only the fact he didn't wear his hood anymore. He was still dying from random occurrences every other day, he was still dirt poor, and still completely obsessed with boobs.

"Hey Kyle, what's up?" Kenny smiled as his stringy blonde hair fell in his face; he brushed some strands behind his ear as Heidi and Red walked by, giggling. "Anyway, has Stan seriously stopped moping for more than five minutes? It's a new record."

Stan's face twisted in anger, "Fuck off, Kenny."

"No dude, I'm serious, this is good for you! You're finally getting over the Super Bitch, after having trouble with her for, I don't know… eight years?" Kenny laughed. The three of them stopped walking as they reached Stan and Kenny's lockers. Stan turned away from his friends and spun the dial on his combination lock.

"Well, now her best friend has been hitting on him for the past week, although he keeps rejecting her. Apparently no ones good enough for the almighty Stan Marsh," Kyle piped in, laughing too.

Stan rolled his eyes, "Is today some special 'gang up on Stan day because he was away this past weekend and you two didn't have anything better to do'?"

"No, today is 'pick on Stan day because he's been acting like a mopey bitch for the last two weeks and he can finally take our jokes without killing us,'" Kenny said smoothly, leaning against the lockers.

Kyle smiled, watching his two friends bicker. He was truly grateful he could have friends like Kenny and Stan. Most people had broken it off with their old friends after about two years, but not them. The three of them, especially Stan and Kyle, had been best friends through thick and thin. Kyle thought of himself as really lucky to have the two of them as his best friends. They were a happy trio- the Three Musketeers, always there for each other no matter what.

"Hey assholes, how's it goin'?" an irritating voice said from behind Kyle.

Of course there was the fourth one Kyle never wanted to think about. He was always there, too.

"Hey Cartman," Stan said, not turning toward the source of the noise, Kenny nodded toward Cartman and smiled. Kyle fumed angrily and turned around, looking at the boy he completely detested. He was the reason Kyle hated Mondays.

Eric Cartman had changed the most out of the four boys, but only from the looks standpoint. He was the same height as Stan (Kyle was the shortest still, by a measly two inches), and had lost a lot of the weight from his younger days, solely because of adolescence. He still ate like a fat ass, and was slightly larger than the others, but overall didn't resemble a pig as much as he used to. He, too, had abandoned his hat, but still had the fashion sense of a complete incompetent. Personality-wise, he was still a bigoted, intolerant, uncaring asshole, only out for himself and what was best for him.

He still loved ripping on black people, the handicapped, minorities, women, sluts, actors, midgets, poor people, and basically anyone that wasn't Hitler, Mel Gibson, or himself. But most of all, he loved making fun of Jews. Or to be more specific, Kyle.

"Dude, where the hell were you this weekend? It was totally boring," Cartman said, looking past Kyle to speak with Stan.

"I told you last Friday, Cartman, my family had to go visit my grandpa in the nursing home, and I wasn't going to be around for a few days. Remember?" Stan removed his English notebook from his locker and put it in his bag. Kyle noted that they had English homework over the weekend, and if Stan didn't have his notebook with him, he probably didn't do it, and was going to ask to borrow Kyle's.

Kyle sighed and bent down to open his bag, as Stan continued, "Besides, I'm not the only guy here you consider your… friend or whatever."

Cartman rolled his eyes, "I know that, dumb ass, but you're the only one here with a car. Anyway, Kenny's dirt poor," Kenny stuck his tongue out at Cartman, "And I would never be seen with Kahl anywhere outside of school, imagine what people would think of me."

"Yeah, a girl might try to talk to you for once, but only to get Kyle's number," Kenny added, smiling evilly. Kyle and Stan laughed as Cartman frowned and glared at Kenny.

"Fuck off, asshole, not my fault girls are more into fags than into me."

"Don't call me gay, Cartman, girls just don't like you because they're not into fat, conceited, assholes," Kyle said sharply, facing Cartman. Cartman glanced down at him and smiled.

"Yeah, they're into cute little things that remind them of lost puppies, might be why they like Stan so much too, always following that bitch around with a stupid puppy look in his eyes. Completely whipped."

Stan rolled his eyes at this, while Kyle growled angrily. "You're just jealous no girl would ever give you the time of day, fat ass! They all think you're too ugly to be fucking human, let alone someone they could date!"

"Kyle, just let it go," Stan said, closing his locker. "It's not worth it."

The bell echoed through the halls, signifying the beginning of their first class. Unluckily for Kyle, the four of them had it together.

"Oh, isn't that cute Kahl? Your boyfriend is protecting you," Cartman said, smirking.

"Lay off, Cartman, it's too early for this shit," Kenny said, walking through Kyle and Cartman, toward their first class. Stan followed and left Kyle and Cartman standing in the middle of the hall, glaring at each other.

Kyle sighed and walked after Stan, in an attempt to catch up with him.

"Trying to walk with your boyfriend, Kahl?" Cartman said snidely, catching up to him in two long strides.

"Don't you have anything better to do than annoy me?" Kyle asked rudely, quickening his pace.

"Of course I do, you should consider it a blessing I take time out of my busy schedule to antagonize you, Kahl."

"Wow, you know a word with more than two syllables. Congratulations."

"Whatever, just remember to use a condom when you fuck Stan later, you never know where he's been," Cartman added, the smile completely gone from his face. He coolly walked past Kyle and Stan, toward the classroom. Kyle rolled his eyes in disgust.

"Can you fucking believe that asshole sometimes? Ugh, he's why I hate coming to school some days…" Kyle said exasperatedly, finally catching up to Stan.

"Yeah… what an idiot," Stan said distantly, not looking at Kyle. His eyes seemed clouded.

Kyle glanced at him worriedly. "Hey… you okay? If it was that stupid crack about Wendy, just ignore it, he's just jealous. We all know he's basically been in love with her for the longest time-
"No, it's not that," Stan said sharply, his cheeks tinted red, "It-it's nothing, I'm just tired, I didn't sleep much last night…"

"Oh… okay," Kyle said quietly, worriedly watching his best friend as they entered the classroom.

"Okay, children, take your seats. It's time to discuss the timeless classic, The Hunchback of Notre Dame," Mr. Garrison said as Kyle closed the classroom door behind him. He walked over to his desk next to the window and set his bag on the floor beside his seat.

Stan slumped in the desk in front of him, moodily looking out the window.

What the hell… Kyle thought. He sat down in the blue plastic chair and pulled out his English notebook. Kenny sat to his right as Cartman sat in front of Kenny, putting him diagonal with Kyle. Kenny glanced over at Stan, then back at Kyle.

'What's up?' he mouthed at Kyle. Kyle shrugged. Kenny frowned, 'Wendy again?'

'Maybe…' Kyle mouthed back, glancing at the back of Stan's determined head.

Idiot, you should just get over her already, Kyle thought, sighing, and turning back to his notes.

"As we all should be well aware of, Quasimodo means what, class?" Mr. Garrison asked the room full of sleepy students. A few brave kids raised their hands, among which was Wendy. Kyle grimaced and began to doodle in his notebook. Mr. Garrison skimmed over her, and spotted Kyle in the back of the classroom.

"Kyle, what does Quasimodo mean?"

Kyle was broken out of his concentration as he glanced up at Mr. Garrison and the class full of students turning toward him. He gulped as he attempted to remember the background information he looked up the night before.

"Uh, it's the name Frollo gave the baby the gypsy dropped… it means "almost like" in Latin, the baby was also found on Quasimodo Sunday, so many believe that Hugo was using a pun to name him."

"Very good, Kyle, obviously someone has actually read the book…" Mr. Garrison said appreciatively, glancing around the rest of the room expectantly. "You all could learn from that, instead of just fucking Sparknoting every single book I assign."

Kyle tuned him out after that, going back to doodling in his notebook. His best friend in front of him sighed heavily as he gazed out the window at the snow-covered tree. Kyle glanced up at him again, becoming annoyed and worried.

A minute later, Stan felt someone tap on his back; he tilted his head slightly to see a folded piece of paper being waved in his face, courtesy of Kyle. Stan took the paper and unfolded it, revealing Kyle's tidy handwriting on the inside.

What's up? Did something else happen over the weekend you don't want to say?

Stan clicked his pen and scribbled something on the crinkled piece of paper. He nonchalantly tossed it over his shoulder, back at Kyle.

Hah, of course you'd notice something was off.

It's nothing- don't worry. I've just been thinking

a lot lately, nothing to be really concerned with.

Kyle frowned and wrote something back, completely forgetting they were in class.

Come on dude, what is it? You look really depressed.

Was seeing your grandpa really that bad?

Kyle attempted to toss it forward onto Stan's desk, but the flying paper was intercepted by a large hand to his right. Kyle's face twisted in anger as he hissed at Cartman,

"Give it back! It's none of your fucking business!"

"Kyle Broflovski, this is my English class!" Mr. Garrison said loudly from the front of the room, "Pay attention!"

"Yes Mr. Garrison," Kyle said, receding into his seat. He glanced venomously over at Cartman, who, to his horror, seemed to be reading over the note. He looked over his shoulder, back at Kyle, and smiled evilly.

He grabbed his pencil and wrote one word on the paper, then tossed it back over to Kyle.


Kyle growled angrily, but held his tongue, for fear of Mr. Garrison noticing and taking the note. Instead, while Kenny and Stan watched, he ripped out a fresh sheet of paper from his notebook, crumpled it up, and tossed it at the back of Cartman's head.

Cartman, not being the brightest when it came to knowing when to hold his tongue, turned around and yelled, "What the fuck, Jew?"

"Eric Cartman, be quiet! This is my class, and I'm sick of all these interruptions!" Mr. Garrison yelled. A few interested kids turned around to watch Cartman.

"But Mr. Garrison, that Jew assaulted me! You saw it!"

Kenny snickered evilly from behind Cartman, clearly enjoying this. Stan still didn't seem too interested in the whole thing as he stared out the window, lost in thought.

"That's enough, Eric! Kyle, you too, you both have detention with me after school tomorrow!"

"What? But Mr. Garrison, I-" Kyle began, standing up in his seat.

"Don't think I didn't see you throw that paper at Eric, you're lucky I don't send you to the principal's office! Tomorrow, after school, you both here, in my class for two hours! Do I make myself clear?"

"Fuck that shit…" Cartman muttered, sitting back down in his chair, as Kyle nodded solemnly toward Mr. Garrison.

Cartman angrily glanced back at Kyle, 'Fuck you!' he mouthed angrily.

Kyle sighed- he didn't want to be stuck there after school anymore than Cartman did, but he also didn't want to get into more trouble by arguing with Cartman. He rolled his eyes and put his head in his hands.

I really do hate Mondays…


"God, that fucking asshole! It's not my fault we have detention- he should mind his own fucking business and not read our notes! That's what started that whole thing, asshole!" Kyle said angrily as he and Stan walked down the street about a mile away from the school. They lived about two blocks away from each other, and were able to walk most of the way home together, with the exception of one turn.

"Yeah… that sucks…" Stan said distractedly, staring at his feet as they walked. Kyle turned toward him.

"Dude, what the hell is up? You've been acting like this all day. Did something happen that you're just not telling me?" Kyle said, sounding concerned.

Stan stopped walking and looked up at Kyle, looking like he felt guilty. "Kyle… seriously, it's nothing like that. Like I said… earlier. I'm just thinking about a lot of stuff. Really!" Stan added when he saw the disbelieving look in Kyle's eyes.

"Well… fine. Whatever," Kyle said impatiently, beginning to walk toward the corner again. Stan slumped, stuck his hands in his coat pockets, and walked behind him.

"…Kyle?" Stan asked quietly after a few moments. Kyle rolled his eyes and turned around.

"What? Are you going to tell me what's really wrong?"

Stan shifted uncomfortably and stared at the sidewalk. Snow began to fall around the two of them, the snowflakes drifting lazily from the sky, then ending their journey on the cement between them and the tarred roads.

"Have you ever… thought about something, then regretted it a moment later? Like… you knew you shouldn't think about it, then you think about it anyway, and feel guilty? Or… just really really confused?" Stan made flailing motions with his arms, trying to make Kyle better understand his point. It really wasn't working.

Kyle looked at him confusedly, his worried, green eyes looking Stan over. "What do you mean?"

"I mean…. Like you have a thought- a random, meaningless thought or day dream or something, that caused you to rethink… things. Even if you knew the thought or whatever was… dumb and you knew you shouldn't think of it…"

Kyle was seriously confused at this point. Stan threw his arms up and sighed. "I give up, never mind," he added. He walked ahead of Kyle, to the street corner, and waved behind him, "Later dude… see you tomorrow. Sucks about detention."

He turned and in a second he was completely out of sight, before Kyle could get a word in edgewise. Kyle didn't know what to think of their conversation just now, so instead he pushed it to the back of his mind and began to walk toward his house again, deciding it was better not to worry about things until it was needed.

The snowflakes swirled around him as he tromped to his front door, took the key out of his pocket, and turned the lock.

Everything is exactly the same, Kyle thought, pushing open the door. But… why do I get a bad feeling that something is going to change soon?