Hahaha…does anyone remember this story?

"You said what?"

Stan raked his hand through his hair. He didn't know how to respond to Kyla, because frankly, he didn't know the answer. He shrugged. "I told her I'd help her out. It seemed like the decent thing to do."

Kyla's cheeks were flushed. "But what does that mean exactly? What does she expect of you? To be the father figure? Why would you subject yourself to that?"

"Well I was mean to her at lunch…" Stan said.

Kyla rolled her eyes. "I didn't expect you to go and make a promise like that!" Then, quieter: "I can't believe she had the balls to ask you."

Stan was quiet for a moment, focusing on the road in front of him. His truck groaned along the slick pavement; no one on the roads was going over fifty miles today, it seemed. Kyla looked like she wanted to be angry, but instead just seemed confused. Stand couldn't blame her, although he appreciated her not blowing her lid the way he thought she would. Then again, everything was different now. He knew he had changed, and Kyla had as well. With everything that had been going on, it was tough not to grow up a little. He glanced at Kyla, a sympathetic smile on his lips. "Let's just take this one step at a time. If it gets to be too much, I'll quit. It's not like I have any legal obligation or anything."

Kyla let out a long breath of air and looked out her window. "You're too nice for your own good," she muttered.

They lapsed into silence. Stan pulled the truck into his driveway and put it in park, yanking the key out of the ignition. They sat there quietly for a few moments before Stan opened his door and slid out of the truck. "You coming?" he asked the fiery girl in the passenger seat.

She glanced at him before opening her own door and getting out the other side. As she came around the front of the vehicle he put his arm across her shoulders and tried to meet her eye. "I'm sorry. It's not gonna change anything with us. Okay?"

"And what is 'us', exactly?" Kyla asked, finally meeting his gaze. "What are we, Stan?"

He paused and looked towards the distant, snow-capped mountains beyond his house. "I guess we need to talk about that."

He led her into the house and helped her out of her coat. She didn't resist; all the fight seemed to have left her recently, like she was in a permanent state of tired. Stan wondered if maybe her blood sugar was low, but he didn't dare ask. Kyla was sensitive about her condition and was also responsible about it.

His parents were still at work and Shelley was somewhere he didn't care, so they were met with silence as they plunked down onto the couch in the living room, sitting on opposite ends. Kyla glanced around the room as if it had actually changed in the thirteen years she had been visiting it. Stan stared at her, noticing how nicely the lavender shirt she was wearing complimented her fiery hair, but that it also emphasized the dark circles under her eyes…

"You haven't been sleeping." It was more statement than question. "Insomnia is back?"

Kyla didn't answer. She just met his eyes. Then looked away. Stan sighed. He wasn't sure how to approach whatever it was they obviously needed to talk about. Not so obvious, after all.

"Are you mad at me?" He figured it was a good way to start. Get her to say what was on her mind so that he knew what the impending fight would be about. This was how fights always started between Stan and Kyla. One of them being quiet and passive until the other finally called them out on it. And it always started with "Are you mad at me?" because that was usually the case.

She hesitated, then shook her head. "I'm mad at everything. It's ruined what I thought would be the best thing to ever happen to me." When she looked at him, he saw the spark in her eye was gone, and he knew just how much this had been tormenting her. "I wish Wendy wasn't pregnant. I wish Kenny wasn't the dad. And I really wish you hadn't agreed to be a part of this whole thing."

"It was stupid of me," Stan said. "I knew as soon as I said it. But I didn't know what to do. She looked so sad and helpless. I felt really bad for her. I mean—I hadn't been treating her right. I'm not really surprised she cheated on me." He paused for a moment. "I just wish it hadn't been with him. I wish it hadn't hurt you."

"You need to tell her now," Kyla said, some strength returning to her body language. She sat up straighter on the couch. "Phone her and tell her you can't help. Tell her it's too much and you just can't do it. It's not your responsibility." She looked away from Stan, and the hands she was folding and unfolding in her lap. "She's taking advantage of you."

Stan's gaze softened as he saw Kyla's teeth pull her bottom lip into her mouth, an adorable gesture he'd found irresistible for years. He reached out and put a hand on her knee. "Does it mean that much to you?"

"How much does it mean to you?" she asked. "Do you really want to be involved in this kid's life—a kid who isn't one fiber yours, and kid who is the result of a night of cheating and substance—and in turn be involved in Wendy's, for an indefinite period of time?"

"No," he replied. "Not one bit."

Kyla gestured to Stan's pocket, where his phone made a squarish bump through his jeans. "Then call her."

He pulled out his phone and numbly dialed the number. He didn't want any more hurt feelings or tears. He didn't want any of this shit anymore.

"Hello?" Wendy's voice was hoarse.

"Hi."

"Stan?"

"Yeah."

"Is everything okay?"

She could sense the dread in his voice. "Listen, Wendy," he began, "I can't do this. I can't help you with the kid. I can't be a part of it. You know that and it was selfish of you to ask this of me. And it was stupid of me to accept. I should have said this right away. I'm sorry, but I won't have anything to do with you or the kid."

There was a long silence on the other line. Kyla was watching Stan anxiously. Then, "I know, Stan." Wendy's voice was small. "I knew right away you didn't really mean it. And you're right—it was gross of me to even ask you. I was just desperate and didn't know who else to ask." She took a deep breath. "I'm aborting it."

"You are?" Kyla looked up when she heard Stan's incredulous voice.

"I have an appointment tomorrow," Wendy said. "Kenny's not gonna be involved and I can't do this on my own. My parents don't know. So I figured I might as well get rid of it before anyone else's feelings get hurt."

Stan ran a hand through his already tousled hair. "Wow, Wendy. That's really brave of you."

He could hear her trying to suppress tears. "I'm gonna go now. But…thanks for everything, Stan. And I really am sorry."

"You bet, Wends," he said. "I'm sorry too. Good luck with everything."

She hung up. Before he could close his phone Kyla threw herself on him. They lay parallel with the couch, bodies pressed together, Kyla's curls tickling his cheeks as she stared down at him. "It was the right thing," she said.

"I know." His hands wandered across her back, feeling the curve of her spine and the clasp of her bra underneath her shirt. Her fingers tangled in his jet black locks as she pulled his face to hers, locking his lips in a deep kiss. Her legs moved up to straddle his hips as the kiss deepened. His grasp on her became stronger; he held her little body tightly against his, feeling every part of her figure pressed against his chest. He could feel her heart beating wildly, her arms wrapped around his shoulders, the curves of her small breasts pressing against his collarbone as their tongues fought for dominance.

Stan folded forward, taking her with him, and reversed their positions, settling his hips between her thighs so he was draped on top of her. Keeping he kissed along her jawline up behind her ears, then down the nape of her neck to her collarbone. She let out little sighs, her skin electric with the feeling of his touch. Her hands wandered across his broad back, feeling every muscle ripple as he kissed every inch of her.

Finally, he pulled away and stared into her eyes. They were both panting. Judging by Kyla's pink face, he knew she could feel his erection pressing into her thigh. Something about the way she looked at him told him he needed to stop before this got any further. He scooped her up and held her in his arms, lying so that they faced each-other on the couch, wrapped in each-other's embrace.

"I love you," Stan said between delivering light kisses to her nose, eyes and cheeks.

Kyla smiled a small smile and nuzzled her face into his neck. She didn't respond, and he didn't expect her to. He was perfectly content to hold her still in the reverie of the love they had finally found for each-other.

The next day, neither Wendy nor Kenny were at school. Kyla and Stan sat together in drama class, with Cartman lazily lugging around with them for lack of a better crowd to hang out with. For once they didn't mind him being around; the constant bickering between the three contained the only hint of normalcy in their lives among all the things that were far too… not normal.

They still weren't "out" yet, as a couple. The good thing about having been good friends for so long was that nobody questioned why they spent every waking minute together or waited at each-other's lockers at break time. To everyone else, it all seemed to be back to normal. But for them, they knew it never would be.

Christmas and Hanukkah came and went, and soon it was New Years. The school had been abuzz with gossip about the huge party Token was throwing on New Years Eve before the break, and it was all people were talking about on Facebook. Stan and Kyla had opted not to go and to have a quiet night at home by themselves, however the day before the party Kyla stood up from Stan's bedroom floor, where they'd been quietly playing chess, and said, "Let's just go to the goddamn party."

Stan looked at her quizzically. "Huh?"

"Token's New Years party. Let's just go. All we do is sit at home and do nothing." She sat down again and took his hand. "I want people to know about us. It's been months. Please, let's just go and have some fun."

Stan's face broke into a wide smile. "Well, then," he said, pulling her into his arms. "Looks like we needs to find you a dress, Broflovski."

The party, coincidently, was not as outrageous as the last one Token had thrown. Everyone seemed in far better spirits, and while the champagne was consumed by the case, it was by far a more merry and less dramatic event than the previous event. Kyla was modestly dressed in dark jeans and a form-fitting red shirt, her curls pinned back in a loose arrangement. Stan barely took his arm from around her waist the entire night.

Kyla couldn't shake Kenny's gaze all night. She hadn't acknowledged him, but she knew he was watching her every move. Wendy wasn't present, as was to be expected. There was a small mercy, there. She didn't think she could face the two of them together.

She knew Kenny would corner her eventually, though; Stan had broken the seal and had to make frequent trips to the bathroom. Feeling a little buzzed herself after sipping a glass of champagne, Kyla made her way to the kitchen for a glass of water. It was empty, except for the blond-haired bastard himself.

"Were you planning on avoiding me all night?" he asked her.

"Still am." She grabbed a glass from Token's cupboard and poured some water from the tap, even though she knew the fridge had a built in filtered water dispenser.

He took a step towards her and leaned back against the counter, beer in hand. She wondered how many he had had. Judging by the slightly glassy look in his eyes, he had not just been consuming alcohol tonight.

"Are you high?" she asked.

She smirked. "On life, babe." He took a swig of his beer.

She considered telling him not to call her that, but realized that was probably the reaction he wanted. So she just turned to go. His hand was on her shoulder in an instant.

"Don't think I don't know what's going on here," he said, his low voice rumbling in his chest. His breath reeked of beer and the top three buttons of his dress shirt were undone. "Marsh has barely left your side all night."

"I don't see how it's any of your business," Kyla snapped. "You're embarrassing yourself. Leave me alone."

She pushed his hand away and stalked out of the kitchen, nearly colliding with Stan as she rounded the corner. He saw the distressed look in her eyes, and then saw Kenny round the corner after her.

"Leave us alone, man," Stan said, although his eyes were icy despite his rational tone. "Let's not have another scene."

Kenny held up his hands. "Whatever, man. I was just wondering if she really is a prude or if she just didn't wanna put out for me."

Kyla glared at Kenny. "You know, Kenny, I used to really like being your friend. And then I liked being your girlfriend, for awhile. But I can't believe that I never saw what a sad, superficial asshole you are."

"You know that's not true," Kenny said, his whole manner softening. "You know I'm not a bad person, Ky."

She sighed.

"I just don't know what to do, you know?"

"Try asking someone who cares," Stan snapped, grabbing Kyla's hand and pulling her away.

She resisted, and faced Kenny. "We're all going through shit, Kenny. But you need to realize that what you did was unforgiveable. You're not an asshole, but please stop acting like it. And for everyone's sakes, leave me alone. I'm never coming back to you and we'll probably never be friends again. So deal with it. Everyone else has to." She turned to go, then stopped. "And maybe try owning up to your goddamn responsibility. Wendy needs you. If you were less selfish you would see that."

And that was the last time Kyla ever spoke to Kenny McCormick.

At the stroke of midnight, Stan gave Kyla a huge kiss. He held her tight and danced with her as the crowd around them sang "Auld Lang Sin". Then they moved out onto the balcony, the same balcony where he had first told her that he loved her. And he told her again, and this time, she said it back.

"I love you, too," she said, and then stood on her toes to kiss him.

The year had been turbulent and challenging, but they had finally found each-other as they were meant to be.

I guess I'll just end it there?