Meet some friends of mine

It's gonna be a long night

TIME JUMP - 6 MONTHS

Y/N's POV:
I'm stood outside the college gates with Kenny, him lighting up a cigarette.
"It's a bad habit" I remark.
He leans in close as if he's going to kiss me then blows smoke in my face.
"Ew" I recoil, making him smirk.

There was a few more nights like the one at skeeters, frustrated 3am makeout sessions after hours of studying. Though in the end we decided we work better as friends. Two single friends that sometimes hook up. Turns out I have lots of great friends.

"Graduation after-party starts in an hour, we should be getting ready" I point out. I scan his face for a second "Can I pluck your eyebrows?" I ask, still eyeing him.
"Firstly, fuck off. Secondly, can't we just ditch?" He asks between puffs, tilting his head at me like a sad puppy.
"Sure, why change the habit of a lifetime?" I joke, thinking of all the lessons we skipped this term. "Gutted I won't get to see you in a suit though" I add teasingly.
"Play your cards right" he mutters.

We both passed our finals, by some miracle. Just hours ago I stood taking Polaroids of him and Karen, matching grins. Even their dad shed a tear.
I failed my driving test but in hindsight that's probably for the best; I spent more time compiling road trip playlists than I did studying theory.

"Well then, it's only 4pm, what do you want to do this fine afternoon?" I ask, nudging him.
"Will you come with me somewhere?" He asks, suddenly solemn.
"I'd follow you to the ends of the earth" I say dramatically and sarcastically.
"I'm serious" he says, and he looks it.
"Yeah, course. You know I will idiot. Are you okay?" I ask, concerned.
"I just... wanted to tell my mom that I graduated" he says quietly.
He opens his mouth to explain himself but I cut him off by pulling him in for a hug. He pauses briefly, unsure at first, then hugs me back tightly.
We might not be together anymore, we never really were, but I still care about him, so so much.

"Come on then" I say. "I'd offer to drive but y'know...still a bit of a sore spot" I joke, feigning anguish.
He manages a smile then slips into the drivers seat.

Kenny smiles a lot more now, a reluctant optimist. He's currently teaching me how to play the drums, which I'm terrible at, so in turn I might be teaching him how to be patient and forgiving.

We ride in silence but his fingers still tap on the steering wheel to some silent song.
"Must be a drummer thing" I say, nodding at his dancing fingers. "Will that be me soon?" I ask.
"No, you'll never be a drummer because you're utter dogshit" he quips, cracking me up.
"Oi, you do want to leave the cemetery don't you?" I joke, then immediately regret going too far.
"Sorr-" I start but he's laughing.

We pull up and I turn to say something comforting but he's already gotten out and gone on ahead so I just quickly and silently follow him. He's quietly counting his steps to himself, co-ordinates to remember where she is. I hold my breath as we arrive at a headstone, where he promptly plonks himself down on the grass.
"You're gonna sit on her?" I can't stop myself from asking, slightly horrified.
"She wouldn't mind" he assures me, patting the ground next to him. I reluctantly sit until I see his face, lost, like a childs, then immediately it doesn't matter where we are. Suddenly my back is up against the stone, his head in my lap whilst I stroke his hair. He talks to her for an hour whilst picking the daisies that surround the plot, fumbling to make a daisy chain with his awkward drummer hands. His tongue sticks out slightly in concentration. I take it from him, carefully piercing the stalks and threading them through as if handling a precious artefact. I gently place my creation on his head and he smiles up at me.
"Those guys. Cartman, Stan, Kyle." He begins, and I look up from the piece of grass I had been fiddling with.
"They always used to rip on me for everything. Being poor, being stupid, whatever. I didn't care, it was funny, we were kids. But they'd make jokes about my family too, about my dad being an alcoholic and my mom's...problems. Then she died and suddenly they're sorry for my loss and she was a wonderful woman. It just got to me y'know. But I don't hate them. I think i've been kind of a dick." He admits, then sighs. "I guess I just needed to channel my anger into something, anger was easier to feel than grief. Does that make sense?"
I nod, wiping a stray eyelash from his cheek.
"Well actually, Butters was saying something the other day about this broship counselling thing Mr Mackey does, remember him? Well obviously that's super lame but like you can still mend those bridges, they're not burnt yet." I finish. He looks at me thoughtfully, as if he might say something profound.
"Butters is kinda hot" he says casually, stretching his legs out.
"Excuse me?!" I manage, completely floored. "Firstly your mother is listening and secondly: what the fuck. I cannot handle turning yet another man gay" I moan, which cracks us both up.
"Let's go back to the car" he says, offering me a hand up.
"Okay but I'm not going to forget what you just said. Like ever."

He smiles to himself on the drive home, radio on low.
"I don't want to go home" I say, looking into the dusk.
"Then we won't. Come on." He pulls over to the side of the road.
"What are we doing?" I ask, suspicious.
"Laying in the road. We can watch the stars come out. I'll put on a CD and we'll be able to hear it from the car" he says, as if it's a solid and reasonable plan.
I just shrug, I have no better ideas. "Sure."

And so we lie in the road, listening to The Cure.
He pretends to know which one is Orion's Belt and I ask if he believes in zodiacs which earns me a snort. "Classic Aries behaviour" I tut.

"D'you think having 'last dance' as the first dance song for your wedding would be like cool and meta or just lame?" He ponders now, stretching out lazily.
"Why not just use Lovesong? Or better yet marry someone who likes less depressing music" I tease, digging my elbow into his side.
He smiles.

"Brownie?" he asks, offering me the tupperware container from his backpack. Tweek taught Karen how to bake and she's surprisingly good at it. A little too good, she makes things faster than we can eat them. I told her she should take some to the local homeless shelter, or even the cat sanctuary. That earned me a tiny laugh followed by an eye roll. I'm calling it progress regardless.

I get a notification on my phone and it's Kyle, asking why I'm not at the party. He's attached a selfie, resting his head on Stans shoulder, the both of them in tuxedos. I get a stupid goofy smile on my face I can't shrug off. I thought I was looking for love, a jealousy that it always seemed to skip me. But now I know that I had it the whole time. Love lives in my friends eyes, in trips to lakes and in the flowers that grow over graves. It's in long drives, stones skimmed, coffees drank. Secret glances between two best friends, forts built under covers to study in. It's everywhere and it's beautiful. I'm still hopeful I'll find my person, because now I'm certain such a thing exists. But until then I'll laugh, cry, roll my eyes, drum badly and love with all my heart. All alongside people that make me feel like me. I will live.