the boy in room 5 ; style

9: Stanly Marsh

(A/N) Waring for mention of puking . sorry this ones really short!!! enjoy <3

• It has been almost 4 months since me and Kyle met. I hold a bag in my hand. Today's his 16th birthday. I turned 16 back in October of last year, it's now May. It feels like yesterday I was just turning 15. Time is strange. Now Kyle's turning 16 too.

Sometimes Kyle would call me really late, crying about how scared he was that he wouldn't live to his sweet 16, and I'd comfort him and tell him he'd be okay. I promised him that if he died I'd go to heaven, yell at god and drag him down back to me. I'd even fight with Jesus if I had to. He'd say he was Jewish so really that didn't do much, but it meant the world I'd be willing to do that. It'd cheer him up and we'd laugh.

I don't have to though, because I was right. Kyle did live until his 16th. In the present bag in my hands is a hardback book he'd been talking about wanting and a stuffed animal. I wanted to get him his own basketball bur figured he'd probably have one at home to play with when he got better.

The car jolts to a stop and my mom leads me inside. I scrolled volunteering two months ago, but I'm still at the hospital almost every day. I'm here for Kyle this time, not for punishment.

"You're here for Kyle's birthday?" Says the man behind the desk. I nod. He smiles. He signs us in and before I know it I swing open the door to his room. He's sat on his duvet, holding a small stack of books his father had gotten him. I laugh and drop the bag, rushing to him and hugging him tight.

He laughs a long with me. It's stupid but hearing his laugh makes me feel warm and comfortable in ways I didn't know I could feel. I walk back to the doorway where I'd dropped the bag, mom was stood their now, holding it. She handed it to me, grinning, and I turn and hand it to Kyle. He pulls it open and looks into it.

His smaller smile morphs into a large one, stretching from ear to ear. He pulls out the book, exclaiming how he'd wanted that one so badly, then places it onto his pile and pulls out the plushie. He looks at me, and tilts his eyebrow, pulling a confused smile. I chew on my bottom lip. His confused face turns to a happy smile.

"I'll name him Star." He held the stuffed cat close to his chest and locked his eyes onto mine. I didn't even realise everyone else was just watching at us in silence as we stared into each others eyes. I coughed as i noticed the daunting silence in the room and backed up. Kyles brother jumped to him, grabbing Star from him and playing with him excitedly. Kyles mom got up to talk to my mom, his dad trying to control the little Canadian kid. I took my seat next to Kyle, and i notice something. His skin is darker. There's colour to him, he's no longer pallid. The red tint to his skin, redder in his cheeks, makes me smile. His sunken in face is a little rounder. He' still skinny, still pale, but he looks so much more alive than I can say he ever has. My heart warms.

"Why'd you name him Star?" I ask, choosing not to mention how much better he looked in fear he'd be upset by it.
"Star is very close to Stan." he replies. I punch him lightly in the arm, scoffing. "We're technically his dads. You're dad one, I'm dad two."
"Nah dude, you're mum." I laugh, and now its his turn to punch me in the arm. I throw as arm around his shoulders and lean onto him, feeling him lean onto my head.

"When do you get released from the hospital?" I ask.
"Next Saturday." His tone is emotionless but nonetheless I can feel the joy and hope radiating off of him. I smile, and say how happy I am.
Neither of us held an optimistic attitude to this world but when I'm with him I feel like nothing bad can ever happen, like a rainbow shot through my heart and I feel positivity. A rare feeling for me. I sit up straight.
"You coming to school?" I ask. He reply's with a shrug. I click my tongue. "When you're out you should meet my friends, Kenny and Butters. We can get ice-cream, or-or something." He hums in response and nods.
"Sounds sick man." He smiles.

Speaking of sick, I feel like I'm gonna puke. The way his smile curls on his lips makes my stomach twist and turn. The way his lips and redder than a thousand bloody roses makes my heart pound. The way his tongue curves over every word, every look burns my inside, it all makes me feel sick. I liked Kyle when I met him, but that went away after a few weeks. It wasn't even enough to get me feeling sick oh shit. I turn around and rush to the trash can in Kyles room, dipping my head in it and gagging. The continents of my lunch come up and out into the trash can, and i groan. My mom rushes to my side, handing me her drink of water in a paper cup and patting my back.

"Fuck, Stan, you okay, dude?" Kyle stands and rushes to me, putting a hand on my shoulder.
"I'm okay, don't worry." I sip the cool water slowly. If Kyle doesn't move his hand right now I'm going to puke again. I shrug him off and place the cup down on the side, speaking a quiet 'be right back' and leaving the room. I feel Kyles eyes watching me down the corridor, but I won't look back.

Well that was humiliating. It also tugged me to a point of realisation; I like Kyle. I like him a lot.

"I like Kyle." I say as I sit against the bathroom wall. It's like a sting on my tongue. I like you. This words will sting a thousand times more is i speak them aloud. If i speak them to him. It even stings to think. Fuck.

(1075 words)