The week after the party was beyond awkward. Wendy started sitting with us at lunch and I just knew Stan was holding her hand under the table. But she sure didn't look happy about it. Stan, on the other hand, was positively glowing. Like pregnant-with-your-baby-daddy's-child glowing. It made me want to fucking vomit all over them and then lick my vomit off of their faces with my vomity tongue and vomit all over them again. That bad.
So it's no surprise that I've officially cracked.
"Hey, Kyle, would you pass me the salt," asks Stan in his fucking love-dovey voice while staring lovey-dovily at Wendy.
"FUCK YOU!" I scream, and stomp out of the lunchroom.
I'm staring at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, gripping the edge of the sink for support and trying not to cry.
My reflected face is pinched and red, ugly from crying. Oh, Christ, Kyle, you are the most pathetic human being to ever-
The bathroom door creaks open. I wipe my eyes on my sleeve, hoping that whoever just came in will just take a piss and be on their way.
"Kyle?" It's Stan. Shit.
I whirl around to face him.
"Kyle?" His face is white but he looks angry. "Dude, what the fuck is your problem?"
"What's my problem? My problem?" I repeat, my voice rising at least five octaves. I laugh, crazily, bitterly, and my eyes are streaming with tears. I can see it scares the shit out of Stan. Good.
"Kyle!" Stan barks. The laughter dies in my throat. I turn back to the mirror, examining my tearstained reflection and Stan's pale face, floating ghostly over my shoulder.
"What is your problem with me?" repeats Stan, slowly this time, as if I were a child.
"My problem is her," I say. "You and her."
Stan sighs, a long-suffering sigh that makes me want to punch him in the balls. "Look I meant to tell you...I'm not gay. I'm not into guys."
I snort. "Like hell you aren't."
"No, I'm not, really. And Wendy makes me happy, Kyle. You should just be happy for us."
I stare into his reflected eyes disbelievingly. "Wow. You are so totally lying to yourself right now."
His mouth tightens but he doesn't respond.
I turn around and take a step toward him, staring him down fiercely. Noticeably disconcerted, he takes a step back.
"You," I say, poking a finger at his chest. "May not be gay, or into guys, or whatever. But you are. Definitely. Into. Me." I've backed Stan into a wall but I continue forward, pushing my body against his. Stan looks away from me, Adam's apple bobbing up and down. He doesn't seem to know where to put his hands so I take each by the wrist and place them firmly on my ass.
"There now," I purr. "That's better, isn't it." I rub my knee between his thighs.
Stan growls, suddenly grabbing me by the arms and spinning us around, so that I'm the one against the wall. "Not gay," hisses Stan, pushing urgently against me.
"Whatever," I say breathlessly. I rip off his shirt and run my fingers through his chest hair and down his firm stomach and dip my hand down his pants.
Stan moans, lifting me so that I can wrap my legs around his body, hips thrusting against me.
"Take off your pants," I gasp, but before he gets the chance the bathroom door slams open.
Wendy stands in the doorway, looking furious. Stan puts me down and reaches out to her, but she walks away, heels tip-tapping on the tiled floor.
Stan looks at me with a grimace, running a hand through his raven hair and making it stick up like a porcupine's. "I think we've just broken up."
"GUYS!" Kenny rushes through the doorway, followed by Cartman. He pauses, noting our disheveled state. "You and Wendy off again? That's good, Cartman's got dibs."
"What?" Stan and I sputter simultaneously.
Kenny waves a hand dismissively. "Never mind that; I've got something awesome to show you guys. You won't believe it, it's completely insane! Come on!" And with that, he rushes back out the door.
I look at Stan and he shrugs in response to my silent question.
There are forks in the road that are caused by something unexpected. Insignificant. And yet these events can split a road in two.
But despite these tiny, not-so insignificant events, there are those whose destinies stretch across time and space. Those who overcome time, circumstances, coincidences. They find each other despite the
- - - - crooked
- - - - - - - - - - little
- - - - - - seam.
AN: Thank you SO much, everyone, for reading this thing! I appreciate it more than you can ever imagine.
That being said, I would really, really appreciate constructive criticism. I want to know what I may have done right and what I may have done wrong as I'm currently working on a new fic!
This is my idea: The boys are adults (in their latish twenties) and all have gone their separate ways. Kyle and Stan are living together (and as far away from South Park as possible), struggling through their stale relationship and life-consuming careers. Cartman is an extremely successful businessman who runs his own company and has seemed to improved himself quite a bit. And Kenny has stayed behind in South Park to become a teacher and provide support for the most recent generation of messed up South Park kiddies. All are consumed with their own lives and haven't kept much contact with each other. However, it takes a horrible tragedy to bring the boys back together in South Park.
Thanks again, everyone! Please review! Until next time…