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“So, can you tell me where we’re going?” Kenny asked, leaning one arm on the window.
“Don’t know yet,” Stan replied, with a kinda missing a somewhat lost gaze, as they sat in the car on the main street of the town, ready to go. "The farther, the better."
Kenny remained silent, he turned on the radio letting the music a little low and and reclined his car seat. He still was worried about what could have happened to make Stan decide to take a trip so late, but the boy didn't seem to want to talk about it.
Kenny thinks about how much they have changed since childhood, even though sometimes they still do the same silly things as before. Now, he had much more to worry about. Things when you were a kid take time to come, but when they finally do, they hit you full force.
Stan hadn't worn his old blue and red hat since it became old and worn out, which gave space to a badly cut and bleached hair with the roots showing up. Different from Kenny that ended up buying another parka, in the same shade of orange, when his old one no longer fit him.
Stan’s old pickup truck was quite noisy and cold due the cold temperature from the middle of the night. Kenny noticed some bags fairly big in the backseat, he thinks that he should have brought more than the clothes that he was hearing, some changes and his phone.
“You brought a lot of stuff for someone who doesn't know where to go.” Kenny remarked.
Stan laughed and increased the sound of the radio, he didn't answer for a while, just kept driving.
“This town can make anyone crazy.”
Stan finally mumbled and then they were leaving South Park.
After an hour on a poorly illuminated road, they stop in a decadent motel with a peeling paint and some burnt-out letters on the signboard. Even so, it looked good enough to spend the night on a budget.
The room was small, with an old television, a large window covered by a thin white curtain that already had yellowed and a big bed in the middle of the room. Kenny didn't mind having to share the bed if it meant saving 20 dollars.
Stan let his backpack slip from his shoulders to the floor beside the bed, Kenny was already lying down with crossed legs, holding the TV remote in his hands, scrolling through the channels. He stares at the other boy with a little bit of judgment in his face.
“Stan, I really don’t mind sharing the bed with you, but please go take a bath. Your hair looks greasy.”
“You didn't even take your shoes off to go to bed and my hair is the problem?” Stan retorted.
Kenny increased the volume of the television and did not answer, Stan, defeated, headed to the bathroom with a change of cloth in hand.
He came back after 20 minutes wearing an old pair of pajamas and with wet hair. Kenny had taken off his coat, he was wearing a white regatta and the blanket over his legs. The television displayed some auditorium program that makes Kenny laugh every couple of minutes.
“So…”
"So what?" Stan responded, settling in beside him on the bed.
“Dude, you call me out in the middle of the night and get me to spend the night in a motel. I don't know what you think of Stan, but I'm not that easy…”
Stan grabbed one of the pillows and threw it at the blonde boy
“Fuck you.” he answer.
Kenny giggled and threw the pillow back.
“I was just warning you!” He tries to explain himself between laughs, after recovering he continues: “Okay, okay, I’m sorry” He paused and looked away trying to find the words “But seriously, are you alright? You look a little disturbed in the car.”
Stan went quiet, looking at the corner of his nails.
“If you don't want to talk about it, that's okay” Kenny tried to lighten the situation.
"I just didn't want to do anything stupid, you know?" Stan avoided eye contact while speaking.
There were countless things that could have been related to what Stan had said, and in each of them, Kenny couldn't imagine a scenario that he could fix-it . He thinks about the last few weeks: from Stan skipping class or just not showing up at all to their meeting more frequently.
Stan doesn't call Kenny most of the times that they meet, sometimes he is like this, he just hides from people. When Kenny notices that the other boy started to feel this way he tries to do what he can: they end up skipping the most boring class together to kill some time in an old playground or just to walk through the town.
He sees that Stan gets really sad those days and those days turn into weeks or even months. He thought that all of this started in high school, but he realizes it goes back even further. Kenny understands what Stan means by "doing something stupid” and is kinda terrifying to think.
“I’m glad that you call me.” he said with a slight smile, but he couldn't help feeling a tightness in his chest.
It's late, yet the television remains on, although the volume is so low that if a car passes by too fast, Stan can't hear it. He thinks that Kenny is asleep, but he isn’t sure.
He doesn't think that will be able to sleep. Falling asleep has been tough in the last couple days. Stan feels like he shouldn't have called Kenny or left South Park. He doesn't really know what he was thinking when made that call with his fingers trembling on the floor of a dirty bathroom in a gas station.
Stan didn't want to go through this alone, but now that Kenny is here, he doesn't know what to say or how to act. Stan thinks that maybe he should have called Kyle because, back when they were kids, Kyle always knew how to solve things; but he knows that it wouldn't happen this time, they haven't spoken in weeks. Maybe if he calls his sister she pick up. They wouldn't go out because she is living in another state, closer to college, closer to their mom, even though it would be nice to know how Shelly is.
Stan slowly turns to the other side of the bed, staring at the curtain and the lights that occasionally pass by from cars.
He doesn't feel better.
He thinks about why he called Kenny. They had a weird relationship for a few months. Sometimes Kenny spends the night in Stan’s house when the things get difficult in his own house. When Kenny fights with his dad over money, when he says that his father is an alcoholic addict and his mother says that he is no better, none of them are.
Kenny allows himself to be vulnerable with Stan, and they talk about difficult things, about things they are afraid of. At some point, their relationship started to allow that.
Sometimes, they drive in Stan’s pickup truck to the back of the park, where they have a good view of the lake, for a smoke or conversation or both. Sometimes they kiss there, in the school's parking lot, in Stan's room, in the changing room, in the bathroom…
Deep down, he is also glad that he called Kenny.
Stan wakes up with the sunlight coming through the curtain, he instantly regrets choosing such a cheap place. Kenny is in the shower by the noise coming from the bathroom. Rubbing his eyes, he gets up and walks over to the table next to the television to retrieve his phone to get his phone.
The cellphone marks ten o'clock and gives a low battery warning. There were some notifications and two missing calls from his father. Stan had mentioned going out the night before but hadn't mentioned that he would be sleeping away from home. He doesn't feel like going back home. He puts the phone back on the mobile.
“Good morning,” Kenny says, stepping out of the bathroom and drying his hair with a towel.
“Morning…” Stan replies with a hoarse voice.
“You look like you barely sleep, Jesus,” Kenny retorted after taking a good look at Stan. He sits on the edge of the bed with the remote control in hands looking for something to watch. “Having to share the bed made you this nervous?”
“You’re an idiot sometimes.”
Kenny laughs and Stan sits down next to him. Stan tossed his hair back and threw himself backwards onto the bed, but kept an eye on the television where a strange 90s cartoon was playing.
“Can you tell me where we’re going after leaving here?” Kenny asks, laying down close to Stan.
“I don’t know either.”
“Well,” He clears his throat. “We could start by going somewhere to eat. I'm literally starving. I'm pretty sure I saw a restaurant on the street when we were coming here.”
Stan slid over to the bedside table and felt around until he found the car key. He threw it to Kenny.
“You drive.”
The blonde nodded, slipping the key between his fingers.
The diner was bustling, nearing eleven in the morning. The employees were constantly passing by, collecting and placing orders on the tables. Kenny choose a seat close to the entry, on a padded banquette where the faux blue leather was peeling at the edges.
The place was exactly like all the other roadside restaurants that Stan has been to. He remembers the stops with Randy and Shelly when they were going to his mother's house, in another state, after the divorce.
The first few times were terrible: he always felt nauseated from being in the car so long, and Shelly was never in a good mood. However, there wasn't enough time to get used to it: his sister decided to go live with his mom and he stopped going there every weekend.
He remembers very well of his thirteen to fifteen years old: of getting angry because things are changing too fast, of stopping talking to his mom because he couldn't understand why she moved so far away. Stan didn't want to let go of what he had built in the town and start over somewhere else. He had a girlfriend at the time and had the same friends since he could remember. It was terrifying to think about starting all over.
New people,
A new room,
A new school,
Everything.
Today, he wonders how she felt.
Stan remembers trying to avoid his father as much as possible during that time because he didn't want to justify the reasons why his mother had left. Looking back now, he felt a bit foolish and terrible about it, but at the time, it was all he could think of.
Stan's stomach turned, and he has a nagging headache that makes every clatter of dishes sound like a snap. He doesn't have much of an appetite, but he ends up ordering a plate of scrambled eggs anyway. Kenny orders the same but with bacon and toast.
He takes a sip of the coffee that the waitress handed him when she took their orders as soon as they walked in. He tastes the bitterness in his mouth, hoping to stay awake.
“So, where are we going? Kenny asked, leaning against the bench while waiting for the food. “You bring what? Two or more bags of clothes? Are we running away or something?”
"Would you come if I asked you to?"
Kenny looked at him, wondering if that was a joke or not.
“Well, I don't have any money, so unless you are going to cover me for a few months…”
Stans giggle. It was a joke, he knows that Kenny wouldn't leave the town, not now, not without his sister.
“When I called you, I was thinking of visiting my mother…”
“Really? That's very nice, man.”
“Yeah…” He grumbled “But I’m not that sure anymore… It doesn't look like a good idea. I think it is going to be weird after not talking with her for so long, I would feel weird showing up out of nowhere.”
Looking to fix something between me and her, fixing something with me.
“She is your mother, I don’t think it is going to be weird. From what I remember, she is very kind.”
She still is.
Stan thought a lot how it would be if he just showed up there: Shelly would probably have a confused expression on her face, but without the same annoyed undertone as before because she seemed much calmer when they spoke on the phone, and he would make some comment about how much her hair had grown during that time. His mother would come quickly once his sister announced his arrival, she would hug him and probably use some nickname from when he was a child.
He doesn't know if he's ready for it because he knows it won't be the same as when he was a child. He doesn't know if he'll ever stop feeling this way.
“I just think things will be different, you know?”
Kenny doesn't really understand what is so afraid of, but he agrees anyway. They eat most of the time in silence.
They’re in the diner’s parking lot preparing to leave, the place is already emptying.
“Where do I drive exactly?” Kenny asks, settling down on the car seat.
Stan took a look at the inside of the car: the car dashboard was kinda dusty, the trinkets in the interior mirror that used to belong to his mother, and the missing carpets that he took off to wash and never put them back. Stan remembers the family vacation when he was 11 years old to a farm hotel. Randy believed they needed to reconnect with nature, and he remembered spending more time with Shelly on that vacation than ever before. It was a good memory.
"Let's go to the south, there must be something."
Kenny assent, starting the car and pulling out of the parking lot. In the meantime, Stan turned on the radio, he reclined the car seat and shared his attention between Kenny, who always sang the song that was playing if he knew it, and the road landscapes.
He thinks again about what he has with Kenny. The kisses when no one was around and the looks with so much emotion that Stan thinks he will cry. At least, Kenny appears to be happy with the trip.
He still feels a heartache,a tiredness inside that never seems to go away, but he can calm down with the sound of the car and Kenny's low humming voice. Eventually he falls asleep.
***
“What do you think they’ll say if they find out about us?”
They were in Stan’s truck bed in front of Stark’s Pond. It was the beginning of winter and the lake wasn't completely frozen yet, nobody went there at that time.
“Do you really care?” Kenny retorted unconcerned, he shifted his stance when he saw Stan's expression. “Nothing I think, maybe calling us fagots? They won't be entirely wrong either way.”
Kenny thought that they probably suspected it, but nobody ask. They never do because they fear the answer. He knows this because of his parents; he brought a few guys home before Stan, and he talked about them in the same way he talked about the girls he dated. No one said anything; his family already had too much to worry about anyway.
Still, it was different from actually taking over a relationship, he thought, from holding hands on the streets and having dinners to meet each other to parents (even though he already knew Mr. and Mrs. Marsh). Kenny had never been with someone long enough to do something like that, to commit. It was a little terrifying to think about someone else's future, and he couldn't imagine someone wanting to stick around for that long, including himself.
Nevertheless, he had done almost everything he was afraid to do with Stan. The kisses weren't just for fun anymore; there were feelings, warmth, and a strong heartbeat. They cared for each other, more than friends, more than anything Kenny had ever experienced before.
They kissed for the first time in a corner of a backyard party, it was awkward and quick. Stan grabbed him by the coat as they kissed, trying to hide behind a tree. Kenny isn't sure if it worked, but probably yes, because no one ever said anything.
He thought Stan would never bring it up, that it would be something stupid that Stan did at the end of a party and hoped that the other person wouldn't mention it. It had happened to Kenny before, so it wasn't surprising. And for about two weeks, that's how it went: Stan barely looked at him, but then he apologized.
He apologized for trying to run away and for not saying anything. Kenny told him it was okay, understanding that mistakes like that happen when you're drunk and the music is too loud.
"It wasn't a mistake..." Stan says softly.
So they kissed again, this time in the school parking lot, but slowly and with enough time to keep the taste of each other on their tongues.
***
When Stan wakes up, he smells the scent of cigarettes hitting his nose and feels the chilly wind that gives him shivers. They're in some parking lot, his phone is dead, but he figures it's late in the afternoon because the sun has already started to set.
He yawns and stretches. He can see Kenny through the rearview mirror, sitting in the truck bed with his phone to his ear. Stan can hear what he's saying:
"I'm glad you had fun, Karen. Did something happen for you not to sleep at Tricia's?"
"I see, I see. If anything happens, call me. I'm kind of far, but we'll figure it out until I get back. I promise. Love you too."
Stan decides to get out of the car now.
"You're awake."
"Where are we?"
"A supermarket parking lot, about six hours from South Park."
"Sorry for falling asleep."
"Don't worry, you seemed really tired anyway."
Stan sits down beside Kenny, taking the lit cigarette from Kenny's hand and taking a drag, holding the smoke as long as he can. He pays attention to their surroundings; it's a market at the outskirts of a small town, and across the street, some children are playing basketball.
"Kenny, can I use your phone? I need to call my dad, and my battery died."
Kenny agrees and hands over the phone. Stan steps out of the truck and walks to the railing that separates the market parking lot from the street, leaning on the handrail. He dials the number and waits for someone to pick up.
"Hey, Dad."
"Hey, Stan."
He doesn't hear any background noise on the call, Stan imagines that his father must be at home. He feels guilty for always being so far away, unavailable.
"Are you okay?" Randy continues, "I've been trying to reach you all morning."
He believes his father isn't overly concerned; it's not the first time he has left without notice. At this point, he imagines his dad must have gotten used to it because they stopped arguing when this kind of thing happens.
"Sorry, my phone died." He feels a tension in his tongue. "I'm calling you from Kenny's phone, actually."
"It's good to know you're not alone."
Stan doesn't quite know what to say; he never knows in these situations.
"When are you coming back home?"
"Soon, I think. We're a bit far from the city now, but I'll be back before monday in time for school."
"Alright."
They fall into silence. Stan watches as one of the children carefully crosses the street to retrieve the basketball, reminiscing about when he was that age.
"Stan?" His father's voice sounds like a "are you still there?", the boy mumbles a yes in response. "Take care, okay?"
"Okay, Dad."
He thinks he should say something else, even if it's just a small and quick "I'm sorry" that he hopes will be understood as a “i'm-sorry-for-always-disappear-and-act-like-I-don’t-care”.
"See you soon." That's what he responds before hanging up.
Stan looks back at Kenny in the truck. He still feels a bit groggy from the nap. He thinks they should buy something to eat before keep moving.
They didn't stay in the car for long after leaving the supermarket parking lot. Kenny bought two cheap bottles of wine because, according to him, it had the best taste even when warm, and also because nobody ever asked Kenny for his age, they never asked for an id.
Stan stopped by a pizzeria and then drove to the town's hill, which offered a beautiful view. But the whole place resembled South Park so much that it made him feel sick. As soon as they arrive, Stan unlocks the truck bed and places the pizza and the two bottles of wine there. They sit down.
"You know, this place is perfect for a drive-in cinema," Kenny said, taking a slice of pizza. "Put up a screen there, have some people selling snacks or popcorn, I don't know, but I'm sure it would be easy money."
"Pitch the idea to the mayor in South Park," Stan retorted.
"Nah, there's already a cinema in South Park, not in this town." he takes a bite of his food. "I think if we did one in South Park, only a bunch of teenagers would show up to have sex."
"It's not like they're not already doing this," Stan replies.
"True."
They fall into silence for a while, enjoying their meal and each other's company. In the meantime, Stan opens both truck doors and turns on the radio.
"Stan, is this a low budget romantic dinner?"
"What?"
"Italian food, wine, and music?"
Stan laughs, taking the bottle from Kenny's hand and taking a sip.
"Your wine tastes more like grape juice with a ton of sugar."
"Come on! It cost less than ten bucks, you shouldn't expect much."
Stan chuckles a bit, looking at Kenny with a smile on his face and rosy cheeks. He thinks about making a silly but slightly romantic Italian dinner with the blond. Kenny would have to help him cook because he's a mess in the kitchen, but it would be nice.
"Hey, thanks."
Kenny doesn't ask why; he already knows.
"Anytime dude"
They decided to spend the night there with the moon watching them. The radio, still on, play some song that Stan doesnt know in a not much high volume. The car doors are open, but they are in the truck bed using Stan’s bags as a pillow.
We should do this more often,” Kenny says lively “and call more people too, like Kyle, Tweek and Craig. Cartman got a new big car that would be perfect if we went even far away.”
“I can’t believe that you really enjoy this.” Kenny furrowed his brows in disagreement. “I mean, we leave South Park to go to a town just that small, practically we just drive.”
“I don’t mind, it was better than staying at home.”
“Alright,” Stan spoke, raising his hands. "Where do you want to go on our next trip?"
"To the beach," Kenny replied with certainty with a small smile on his face. "But we'll need more than a weekend."
"We can go during spring break. You can bring Karen if you want."
"You want to spend time with me and my little sister? How sweet, Stan, but I've already told you I'm more difficult than that."
"Shut up, Kenny."
They continued talking and laughing until the topic of the beach faded away.
Stan doesn't take his eyes off Kenny, who keeps his arms propped behind his head, looking up at the sky. He knows that as soon as the other boy notices, he'll receive some bad joke, but that doesn't bother him.
Kenny starts singing along to the song playing on the radio. Of all the songs he's sung so far, this is one of the few that Stan actually knows: "Something" by The Beatles.
Somewhere in her smile she knows
That I don't need no other lover
Something in her style that shows me
I don't want to leave her now
You know I believe and how
He doesn't care about what they are. He likes spending time with the blonde boy, he really likes Kenny. He likes when they’re just them, when Kenny rests on his lap between a class and another.
Stan bends over Kenny, he’s pretty sure that the other boy can feel his irregular breath. Kenny has a smile on his face and an intense look. He took off his arms that were behind his head, he passed the right one inside Stan's shirt making the boy's body vibrate with the difference in temperature while using his left hand for support.
They kiss and this time they don't have to worry if someone will see. .
You're asking me will my love grow
I don't know, I don't know
You stick around, now it may show
At some point they have their legs intertwined and everything is mixed up: tastes, temperature and texture. It's like everything they've always wanted to do but were too scared of someone opening their bedroom door.
They don't know what song is playing anymore. Between a breath and a warm sigh, Kenny says:
“I wouldn't mind people knowing we love each other."
Stan doesn't answer, he looks at Kenny's face dimly lit by the darkness of the night. He feels his body vibrate and his heart throb. He feels alive. Finally he whispers:
"Me neither."
When the morning came, Stan couldn't continue sleeping, but Kenny, on the other hand, didn't seem to mind the sunlight. Stan sits, running his fingers through his hair, struggling with a few tangles. He takes a good look at Kenny: his hair is also a mess and he's using his parka as a blanket. Stan has a small smile on his face.
He gets out of the back of the truck and walks to the car door, feeling the tickle of the damp morning grass under his bare feet. Kenny's phone is on the passenger seat, and Stan assumes he wouldn't mind if he borrows it. He dials the last number dialed.
As the phone rings, Stan moves away from the car and walks to the edge of the hill where they parked, where he can see the entire town.
"Stan?" he hears his father's slightly hoarse voice. It seems like he just woke up with the call.
"Hey, Dad," Stan replies, kicking a small rock nearby and watching it bounce down the hill.
He feels nervous, his tongue tied and his shoulders tense, but this time he knows what to say.
"I'm sorry for always leaving without letting you know," he searches for words, for air, for some kind of gentle explanation. "I'm sorry for being so difficult sometimes."
There's silence on the other side for a while.
"It's okay, I don't think I've been the best dad for a while," his father forces a laugh.
Stan feels like he's collided with something, his whole body frozen.
He wants to cry.
"Stan, I... Not just me, but your mom and your sister, we're worried about you. Your mom has been trying to talk to you for a while, but every time she calls, you're either not here or we end up arguing before I can hand you the phone." His father says it as if it's a joke, but he knows it's not.
"I always forget to reply to text messages," he says, trying to keep his voice steady.
"That's what I told her, I said that's just how you are, but she didn't believe me."
Stan lets out a small chuckle at the way his father speaks.
"I want to get better, dad, I really do."
It's the first time he says it out loud. He knows there's something wrong, something he can't control, the reason he can't get out of bed some days, the reason everything feels so melancholic on certain days.
"We want to help you, Stan. You're not alone."
I know, Dad.
His eyes are blurry, he's crying and trying his best not to make any sound because he knows if his father asks if he's crying, he'll only cry even more.
He hears a few raspy barks through the phone.
"I think Sparky already misses you," Randy says.
"Tell him I miss him too," he feels his heart calming down, "Kenny and I are thinking of going to the beach for spring break, tell Sparky he'll see the ocean very soon."
He hears his father talking to the dog with a softer voice and hears the barks in response. He can't help but smile.
"Dad, I want to spend the next summer with mom."
I want her to know that I haven't given up, I want her to know that I miss her.
Stan knows things will be different, everything has been different for so long, but it's okay, he doesn't need to cling to old memories.
"Well, go and tell her that. I'm sure she'll be very happy and stop calling me."
He laughs and realizes how much he missed truly talking to his dad.
Stan takes a moment to look at the town below, it's so much like South Park that he dares say he misses home.
"I better go, I think Kenny is waiting for me."
"Okay, Stan, take care." He pauses for a moment and adds, "I love you."
Stan focuses on not crying again.
"I love you too, dad."
The call ends, and he walks back to the truck, where Kenny is sitting at the edge of the truck bed. The boy doesn't ask anything about the phone or the moist reddened eyes. Stan thinks Kenny probably heard the conversation, but he doesn't mind.
Stan sits next to Kenny and rests his head on the boy's shoulder, Kenny gently runs his fingers through Stan's hair.
"How did your hair get dirty so quickly?"
"Yours isn't much better."
They laugh for a while before settling into a comfortable silence. Stan feels better now, he knows he'll be okay, he wants to get better.
"Kenny, when we get back home, can you help me dye my roots?"
"Sure, dude, but I'm not very good at it." Kenny replies with a hesitant expression.
"That's okay."
They continue to sit there for a while longer. If Stan concentrates, he can hear the other boy's heartbeat. When they get into the car, Stan opens the glove compartment and puts on a faded blue and red hat.
They were going back to South Park.