Relearning You

Not a Double Date

KYLE

It's been a few days since I hung out with Stan, but we're supposed to meet up again with Kenny and Butters today at a burger place and then meet up with Tweek and Craig after. I really can't remember the last time I've been to a fast food joint, it's not like my parents ever get it. I'm kind of excited, the last time I saw them was the last school year. Actually, I think I got Tweak Bros once over the summer, so I probably saw Tweek working there. At the same time, though, I'm worried. I haven't been able to get Stan accidentally grabbing my hand at the movies out of my head. I know there was no real meaning to it, but I felt electric shocks all throughout my arm as soon as it happened. Such a stupid, cliché, cheesy moment that only I thought too much of. Not to mention hanging out with him after only made it harder. We are falling back into our friendship so easily and it's making me feel worse; I lost so much time with him just because I was being selfish. He talks so effortlessly, he looks amazing, and he is a musician?!

I'm falling, and I'm falling hard.

That is exactly what I was trying to prevent all those years ago.

My phone buzzed, seeing a text from Stan. I must have lost track of time. He asked if I wanted him to pick me up since I don't have a car, and I replied yes. I'd rather him pick me up than having to sit in the back of Kenny's beat-up truck because Butters' is most definitely going to be up front. I twiddled my fingers in anticipation and anxiety as I waited for Stan to get here, but I didn't wait too long because he showed up within five minutes.

I grabbed my shoes, jacket, and hat, and ran out the front door to meet him in the driveway. I spotted his car and tugged on the handle, thankfully he remembered to unlock it this time. That was awkward last time, he was like just staring off into space and I ended up startling him.

"Hey! Thanks for picking me up," I smiled at him, "I much prefer your car over Kenny's."

"Anytime," was all he said back. It seemed like his mind was somewhere else, much farther away than where his body is.

About halfway through the drive, I couldn't handle the silence anymore, "is something wrong? You're really quiet."

His face stayed neutral, "just been thinking about a lot. I didn't realize how much I'd have to think about when moving. Like getting my meds transferred down here. Getting comfortable around everyone again, making up for lost time, and..." he trailed off, but I stayed quiet to let him continue rambling, "I don't know. It's just really hard. Harder than I expected, at least. I thought I was going to be so much happier when I moved back, but I still feel stuck. I hadn't even thought about my future until your mom mentioned it, which is fine, but it made me realize I need to get my shit together, you know? Sorry, I didn't mean to rant."

"It's okay," I reassured, "changes are always hard. I'm here for you, no matter what."

His voice lowered to the point where I almost missed what he said, "why did you stop talking to me?"

My heart dropped. I knew this question was coming sooner or later, but I wasn't expecting it sooner rather than later. I had rehearsed this conversation so many times in my head, but now that it's a reality, I couldn't find the right words, "I- I'm sorry Stan. I really didn't mean to hurt you."

"Then why did you do it? Was it something I did? Please, let me fix it. I miss you."

My heart ached with the pain coming from his voice. What am I supposed to tell him? Sorry Stan, I fell in love with you and it hurt too much to keep talking to you and be reminded every single day that you weren't coming back and that you'd never like me in the same way.

"I don't know, I got busy I guess," I said instead.

He glanced over at me, and for a second he looked like he didn't buy it. Thankfully we arrived at the place, effectively ending the conversation there. I ruined the mood already.