In the simplest of terms, Kyle feels conflicted.
He sits uncomfortably in a metal folding chair in the gym of his high school. Their graduation is small enough to be held in the gym because of the size of their graduating class. Even though there really aren't that many people in the gym, he feels like the air is suffocating and he's uncomfortably warm under the thin, scratchy graduation gown.
Perhaps this is because he can't stop thinking about the party at Stan's tonight. He can't stop thinking about Stan in general.
He replays their last kiss in his head unconsciously now, so he's been keeping his mind on overdrive to try and avoid blushing randomly throughout each day.
Thoughts of the kiss make anxiety curl around his throat. Should he expect another kiss tonight? Should he expect more than one kiss tonight? Should he expect to never kiss Stan again?
What if Stan asks for a relationship or something? Would Kyle say yes? There's no way they could maintain a relationship if he did ask because he's leaving for a minimum of three months in two days.
There's no way Stan would ask him to be in a relationship, but what if?
Kyle's head also spins with thoughts of his talk with Kenny and Butters. Stan indeed has a lot of baggage, which is fine, but Kyle's never actually been in a relationship before. Pretty much all of his friends have baggage, but friendship is different than a romantic relationship, from what he's seen and heard.
He almost wants to back out of this party, but he knows Kenny and Butters won't let him. Kenny also mentioned Butters has a big surprise for everyone tonight, so Kyle wants to be there for whatever that is.
"Kyle Broflovski," PC Principal booms into the mic.
Fuck.
Kyle strides to the front of the gym and accepts his diploma after shaking the principal's hand. He glances out to the audience and forces a smile for the pictures he knows his mom is frantically taking.
Staggering offstage, he sneaks out the side door rather than looping around the back of the bleachers to return to his seat. Butters and Kenny plan to do the same.
The door spits him into a dimly lit hall that connects the gym to the rest of the school, as it's practically its own building aside from this hallway.
He plops onto the cold linoleum and pulls his phone out. He pretends the disappointment that grips his heart at the lack of notifications from Stan doesn't exist.
The door slamming open snaps his attention away from his phone just as he wins his third game of solitaire, which he absolutely did not download after the night of the fundraiser where he saw Stan playing it.
"Kyley-B, we're fucking graduated!" Kenny says enthusiastically, strolling over to sit next to Kyle and wait for Butters.
"Yeah, we're officially done with high school," Kyle agrees, giving in and smiling along with Kenny.
"How are you feeling about tonight?" Kenny asks.
Of course, he'd fucking ask that.
"It's whatever," Kyle shrugs.
"You're nervous," Kenny reads him like a fucking book when given a moment to process his thoughts.
"I'm not nervous," Kyle argues futilely as the door swings open again.
"Why are you nervous?" Butters jumps into the conversation as the door closes quietly behind him.
Kyle just groans and puts his head in his hands.
