Do You Even Care? / STYLE SOUTHPARK

☆ Chapter 03 ☆

...Stan's POV...

As I drive down the road I feel that empty type of sadness. I'm driving home on auto-pilot. I'm going through all the different versions of sad today. Earlier was sobbing type sad. Now is black hole emptiness sad.

I feel like I was an awful kid to my dad sometimes. When I think of all the ways I should have been better... I just can't stop thinking. Feeling guilty for something you can't change in anyways is tough. 'Cause you can know that you can't do anything and still feel the guilt just as strong. Sometimes it even makes the guilt worse. Knowing that you can never make up for it. The feeling always comes in suddenly. I'll see a picture or remember something I had forgotten and then it's sobbing followed by emptiness. Or beer if it's available. Sure he wasn't perfect, but he tried. I should have tried harder. I wish I could talk to him one last time to say sorry.

I nearly miss my driveway and as I result I lurch to a stop. "Sorry," I mumble as I pull in.

"It's fine," he tells me.

We get out and walk into my house. I look around. "What should we do?" I ask.

"Mario Kart?" Kyle suggests. It's what we do first pretty much every time we hang out but it's never not fun. It'll be a welcomed distraction.

I nod, "Sure." I set up the switch so that it's connected to the TV and Mario Kart is up on the screen, music and all. We click grand prix, 150cc, and continue on to character select. I pick Shy Guy. Kyle picks Toad. I pick a motorcycle. Kyle picks a cart and chooses a flower parachute. I've teased him about the flower parachute for years but he swears by it.

Were neck in neck the first two laps. I drop back to third for a moment but I come back quickly just in time for the third lap. We race neck on neck until we get close to the end. One of the computers sends a blue shell and it blows up on me.

"Damn it!" I shout. Frantically I try to catch up to Kyle who's grinning like I would after winning a big game.

"Hell yeah!" he shouts as he crosses the finish line in first place. I pass a few seconds after in fourth place.

...

We play for a while but get bored. Kyle stands up, stretching a bit. "I'm gonna get some water," he tells me. I just nod and set my remote next to me. A moment later I hear the water running, then stopping. "Hey, are you still wearing your socks?" Kyle shouts from the kitchen.

I glance at my feet, "yeah!" I stand up and start walking to my kitchen. "Why?"

Kyle sets his water glass on the counter, a mischievous smile on his face. "Sock sliding," he says.

"Dude, I'm too tired," I groan.

"From what?" He quips back.

"From sobbing on the bleachers." He dramatically rolls his eyes and grabs both of my hands. he slides backward, pulling me with him. I can't help but smile. "Fine," I grin.

He drops my hands and we walk to one end of my kitchen. From there we run halfway and slide. As I slow down I flail my arms around to stop myself from falling forward. Kyle giggles at me and I smile a bit. We both turn to run in the other direction and repeat. This time I almost slam into a wall.

"Stay there," Kyle instructs me. I do. "Watch this," he smiles daringly. He walks across the kitchen, runs halfway, slides, and then instead of stopping he throws himself into a somersault. I start laughing uncontrollably. Kyle turns to face me and my laughter pauses until we make eye contact and then burst out laughing again like there is no tomorrow.

"Stop laughing at me!" He manages through his laughter.

"Never," I spit out, my face hurting from all the smiling and laughing. He sock slides back over to me, his face red from how hard we were laughing.

"Now you do it," Kyle says, glancing at me daringly.

I roll my eyes, "I'll break my neck trying to do that." He rams his shoulder into me and I grunt in response. I return his fire with a playful punch. "Fine, I'll try," I agree.

I walk across the kitchen and pause. Ok. Run, slide, somersault, "Shit!" I hit my foot on the couch. I rub my foot with my hand through my socks. "Why did I listen to you?" I sigh.

"If you did it right it would have been fine," Kyle squints as he picks up my foot, "you're fine anyways. No blood on your socks." He drops my foot and I let it fall to the floor.

He sits next to me on the ground. "I vote we watch a movie before I break my ankle doing this," I state proudly.

"Only if you pick a good movie," He replies. I wonder what qualifies as a good movie. What genre movie should I even look for?

"Ok cool, I'll grab the remote," I tell him. We both stand and he cozies up in the corner on the couch by the armrest. I grab the remote and sit next to him. Instictively I open Netflix and then my profile. I think comedy will work.

After some clicking and trailer watching we decide on a movie that seems good enough. It's a newer one. It's pretty good so far. Slowly I start to get cozy, leaning my head on Kyle's shoulder. When he laughs at the funny moment I can feel it. In a way it is comforting.

Suddenly, he grabs the remote and pauses it. I pick my head up and look at him, an eyebrow raised. He turns his head and sniffs my hair.

"When is the last time you showered?" Kyle asks me, leaning away from my hair.

I think for a moment. I'm actually not sure. "Uhh..."

"Stan, go shower," He tells me.

I'm already standing "Yup."