I'd have to say, that in all of the odd things I've seen and done in my life, the situation I was in right now was the oddest situation I've been in.

"...Run that by me again?" I asked, leaning foreward in my chair. The boy across from me narrowed his eyes.

"I said 'I think I like you.' Don't be a douche bag, Kyle." I blinked at my super best friend and fell back into my chair with a soft 'pmf'.

"Oh. That's what I thought you said." I narrowed my eyes, taking in what Stan had just said to me. "...But...But just yesterday we were having a conversation about boobs with Kenny. How can you go from liking boobs to liking me?" Stan narrowed his eyes as well, his hands folded neatly across his stomach and his legs propped up on the coffee table.

"I really don't know dude. I was trying to figure that out myself." he replied, scratching his head.

"Huh." I folded my arms. "Well, I'm straight, dude. Sorry."

"Yeah. Yeah it's fine." he looked at me. "Can I try making you like me?" I smirked at that.

"Well, I'd love to see you try, but I'm hard to impress, dude. You're welcome to try, just because I'm curious as to what you would do." he smiled.

"Okay. We still going over to my place to play Halo with the guys Saturday?"

"Yeah, man. We'll kick their asses." he gave me a lopsided grin and our fists pounded.

"See you later, man."

"See ya." then he left.


The next day I was walking down the hall, and Craig walked up to me.

"Hey, Kyle," he greeted.

"Hey Craig. What's up?" he handed me a piece of paper.

"Stan told me to give that to you." I raised an eyebrow and he smirked. "He's got a huge boner for you, doesn't he?"

"Yeah. Yeah I think he does." I said, both my eyebrows raising at what the paper said. "That's interesting. If you see him tell him I said thanks." I neatly folded it and slipped in into my pocket, and Craig flipped me off as a goodbye.

"Tell him yourself, Broflovski, I ain't your messenger."

"Whatever, ya dick," I waved my hand over my shoulder and walked to class.


"Stan told me to give this to you Kyle," Wendy told me, handing me yet another piece of paper. I groaned and read it, folding it and putting it in my almost full pocket.

"Thanks, Wendy," I said, "Ya know, I haven't seen Stan all day. Is he just giving people notes and telling them to give them to me?"

"I think so, because he just told me to give you this one," Kenny sat down across from me and flipped a paper note to me. I groaned again and smashed my head against the table.

"This is pissing me off. Why can't he just TALK to me?"

"It's your fault Kyle," Kenny said, drinking his milk. "You're the one who told him to try and win you."

"I never believed he would do it. I thought he would realize how awesome females are and leave it be." Kenny raised his milk carton in a 'here here' kind of way, and I ran my fingers through my curls.

"I don't even know what the notes mean. I mean, the first one made sense, since it just said 'I like your ass', but now the rest are just directions or something."

"Stan told me to give this to you, you jew." Cartman threw a note at my head, and I wanted to cry.

"God damnit," I muttered, shoving it in my pocket again.


That night I went home and spread the notes across my bed. I excluded the first one, but I realized the rest of them were labeled.

"One two three four five." I muttered, pointing at each note. I scratched my head, then picked up the first one. It was directions to Stark's Pond. "Okay Stan, whatever you have planned, when I find you I'm going to rip out your eyes," I hissed, grabbing the notes and going downstairs. "Mom, I'm going out, don't know when I'll be back and I don't know where I'm going, the only logical explination I can give you right now is that it's all Stan's fault." My dad shrugged his shoulders in an understanding way.

"Okay, Bubbe, wear a scarf!" I rolled my eyes and walked out the door, ignoring my mother's order of wearing a scarf.


I followed the directions to Stark's Pond, glaring at the water and pulled out my second set of directions. I followed them and ran into a tree.

A tree that had a heart carved in it that said "SM + KB" happily in the center. I smacked my head against it and pulled out the third set of directions. I followed those and ran into a bench. I looked back at the directions and at the bottom Stan's horrible writing said:

'Remember the time when we sat here for about 4 hours, you comforting me because Wendy broke up with me for real?'

I did remember that. I let him cry on my shoulder and talk about it while I just sat and listened. Then he gave up on Wendy, and I was really proud of him.

I pulled out my fourth set of directions, which led me to the edge of the pond where Stan and I always sat and talked and skipped rocks whenever we were bored. I pulled out the final set of directions, following them until I found Stan lounging in a little clearing watching the sunset. He looked back and saw me, a smile going across his face.

"Hey dude." he greeted, and I fell down into the grass next to him. "Did you enjoy your adventure?"

"No." I grunted, causing him to laugh. "It was irritating. I mean, I liked the places your directions took me, but having random people give them to me pissed me off." I looked at him and he was smiling lazily at me, his eyes half-lidded, like a cat. An amused bastard cat.

"Which place was your favorite?" he asked me, his voice sending a chill down my spine. Was his voice always that sexy?

"...Hm." I thought about it. "I'd have to say the fourth place." It was just a simple place, where some of my favorite memories were made.

"Mmhmm." he looked back at the sunset. I looked at it too, a blur of reds and oranges and purples and blues. "Hey Kyle?"

"Yuh-huh?" I answered, still staring at the sunset.

"Can I try to change your favorite stop?" I looked at him, and he still looked like an amused bastard cat. I wanted to punch him.

"You're welcome to try," I told him, shrugging. He leaned over towards me, breathing over my ear, causing me to tense up and a chill going over me. His nose brushed against my cheek, then he paused, staring at my lips. My tongue involuntary flicked out to wet my lips, and he kissed me.

It was soft, careful. Nothing was really going through my mind, except the fact that Stan was kissing me. He pulled away and I just kinda stared at him.

"So Kyle," he began, looking back at the sun that was almost to the bottom of the horizon. "What was your favorite stop?"

"...Still the fourth one, dude." I laughed at his noises of disbelief. "But I guess this stop was okay."

"You suck," he muttered.

"You're the homosexual in this. I think you suck, Stan."

"Goddamnit, Kyle," he hissed between laughs.

"And I told you I was hard to impress." My tongue flicked out to lick my lips. "Ew. You taste like ass." Stan laughed again.

"Shut up, you fucker."


The next day, everyone was whispering as I walked down the hall, groggy and annoyed that school started so early. I was instantly jerked awake at the roses taped on my locker door and a simple note in the middle of the flowers. I ripped them off and grabbed the note. I growled and smashed it in my fist, throwing the roses in a nearby garbage can.

"No. No Stan, I am still very much NOT impressed."


At lunch I stormed up behind him, smacking his face into the table.

"DUDE!" he cried, grabbing his nose. "You dick, you almost broke my nose!"

"I don't give a fuck! What the hell is wrong with you?! I'm allergic to fuckin' roses, you asshole!" I shouted, and Stan smirked.

"No you're not. Super best friend, remember? You're allergic to tulips."

"You mother fucker, don't tell me what I am and am not allergic to! If I'm not allergic, why is my hand swelling?!" I ripped off my glove to reveal the swelling hand. Stan's eyes widened.

"Oh dude, I'm really sorry, I really had no idea!" I burst out laughing.

"Neither did I," I cried, then stormed away.


Later, Cartman walked up to me, grinning deviously.

"What do you want, fatass?" I asked.

He dumped a bunch of tulips on me and walked away.

I was sent home immediately, sneezing constantly and my entire body swelling.

I was in the bath, in cool water to ease the swelling. It was working, for the most part.

Then Stan came into my bathroom.

Then he got a nosebleed and left.

"You're an asshole, Stan!" I called after him.


I went back to school, thanking Abraham over and over again that it was Friday. I saw Stan, and he saw me, and I immediately turned around and headed in the opposite direction.

"Wait, Kyle!" I kept walking, my teeth grit together in annoyance. "Kyle! Dude, stop," he grabbed my shoulder and turned me around.

"What's todays horrible stunt, Stan? Are you just gonna slit my throat and kill me?" I spat. He blinked.

"No." I snorted. "I'm gonna slit mine." I paused.

"...Wait, what?" there was a knife at Stan's throat.

"I'm gonna kill myself."

"What the hell, Stan?!" I cried, waving my arms.

"I'm gonna kill myself, unless you go on a date with me."

"What?!" I shrieked. "Oh no no no no no, no no no and no! You are NOT gonna slit your throat, and I'm NOT gonna go on a date with you!!"

"Very well then," Stan took in a breath and pressed the knife into his neck. I screamed.

"NO NO NO, FINE, I'LL GO, I'LL GO!!" he grinned in victory.

"Good. I'll pick you up at six." then he walked away. Then Kenny walked up to me.


"...He pulled a "The Notebook" stunt." I murmured, and I threw up all over him and fainted.


That night I was lounging on the couch, flipping through channels on the tv.

"Kyle, Stan's at the door for you!" Ike called. I sighed and stood up.

"Mom, I'm going out, dunno when I'll be back. Logical explination is Stan." she nodded at us.

"Have fun you two," she told us, and we left.

"So where are we going?" I asked boredly, scratching my head under my hat.

"I dunno. That way." he said, gesturing to my right.

"Whatever." we started walking down the street. I was kicking a rock most of the way, pissed off and cold.

"Kyle, I know you're really mad at me," Stan suddenly said, coming to a halt. I looked at him. "And I'm sorry everything is going wrong. I really just want you to like me, and all the stuff I've been trying isn't working at all." I blinked and he sighed. "So I'm just gonna stop trying." I almost fell to my knees and started crying out to God and thanking him. "Instead, I'm just gonna start forcing." Wait, what? He grabbed me, smashing our lips together and hugging me close.

"MRPFHRPFMMPPHMRRFMMPHH!!" I shouted, trying to pull away, but he had a iron grip on me. Then his tongue forced it's way into my mouth, and I groaned in disgust. I stopped fighting and just let him do whatever, because there really was no hope for me. Stan's mouth was gonna suffocate me, and I was gonna die.

"I'm sorry Kyle," he whispered. "But I have to make you see..."

"See what?! That your mouth raping will make me love you?!" I shouted, waving my arms around. "Stan, I don't like guys! I'm straight, treading on asexual!"

"I want to change that." Stan said determinedly, and I smacked my face.

"You can't! Stan, you've tried, and I still don't like you like that!" he sniffed, then rested his head on my shoulder. "...I'm sorry," I choked out.

"...If you don't like me like that," he began quietly, his hand resting on my chest. "How come your heart is beating so fast?"


That night I was in bed, my hands behind my head. I was staring at the celing. Then I was staring at Ike.

"How come you won't admit you're gay for Stan?" he asked.

"Because I'm not. Get off me, Ike, you're fat." Ike smacked my head and ran away.

Then I went back to my thinking.

Did I like Stan like that? My mind immediately denied it, but my heart thumped and sang in my chest at the mention of my super best friend. I loved Stan, but not in the way he wanted me to. Or so my mind told me. I placed a hand over my heart. Is this one of those times where I had to follow my heart? My pumping, red, Jewish heart?

It seemed like it.

"...Shit." I said, the word filling the silence of my room.


"Stan." The boy looked at me.

"Hey, Kyle. What's up?" I took a deep breath.

"Stan Marsh, for the past two weeks, you have done nothing but irritate me. I was close to committing manslaughter, and you were close to committing suicide. I thought about what you said last night, and I have come to a conclusion." I paused, wanting to laugh at the sparkle of hope in his eyes. "We're both fucking insane." his face fell. "But, I really think that maybe, if I gave it a try, I could like you like you like me." I blinked at my confusing use of words. "So yeah. Uh. We can try it. If you want." Stan stared at me with wide eyes, then a grin split across his face.

"Yeah. Yeah I wanna try it, Kyle."

"Good. Now hold my hand while we go to my locker."

"You're the best, Kyle."

"Ahh, shut up and hold my hand, you pussy."