Title: The Best of You
Summary: "She had that eerie way of making him smile; of lighting his whole face up with a glimmer of hope and longing. She'd make his stomach dance, sending waves of pleasurable nausea through him, and he wouldn't have it any other way."
Disclaimer: I do not own anything. Thank the Gods Trey and Matt themselves.
Author's Note: So I guess I caved and decided to write a fanfic afterall. I'm trying my hand at a romance because so far all I've done is action. I'd like to broaden my horizons. o.O Anywho, I'm not quite sure where I'm going yet, this chapter is just to get me into the groove of things I suppose. An intro, if you will.
This is NOT a slash. Nope. Straight-up straightness in this story, yo. XD Well, someone might be a bit bent. ;)
It was the kind of morning where it seemed like nothing could go wrong. Fountains of light poured through the drawn curtains and illuminated his pale face. He stirred from his sleep, moaning softly as he did so. He opened his eyes slowly, sleep slowly vanishing from the confines of behind his heavy lids. His gaze lingered on the scenery outside of his bedroom window; thick, puffy white clouds rolled lazily through the bright blue sky that matched the boy's eyes. The ground sparkled with the freshly fallen snow that had appeared over night.
He sat up, throwing the warm covers off his body, his eyes never leaving his window. He could tell that despite the new layer of snow it was already warming up and it wouldn't be so cold today. Finally he broke his gaze from the window and glanced over at his clock. It was only 6:25, and already it was bright outside. He didn't have to wake up until 6:30, but he had fallen into the routine of waking up every morning for school and he didn't need an alarm anymore. However, his mom would always knock on his door as a reminder to get moving.
He shuffled slowly towards his closet, already ready for the school day to be over. It was Friday, and he and his friends were going to hang out after school. He couldn't remember the last time they had done that; high school had a funny way of grabbing onto you and keeping you occupied for quite some time. It was annoying, no doubt about that, but he didn't mind it too much. It was an excuse to see his friends for the short time he got to. Throwing on a blue t-shirt and jeans with a hole in one knee, he ran a hand through his jet black hair and it magically fell into place. With a quick glance in the mirror to make sure he looked alright, he left his room and trudged down the stairs. Despite the fact he always woke up right on time, he was not a morning person.
"Good morning, Stanley," came the cheery greeting from the Marsh boy's mother. "I was just about to come make sure you were awake." They both knew it was a pointless task, but whatever flipped her pancake, right? "Sit down, Stanley, and I'll get you a bowl of Cheerios."
He did as hismother told and slunk heavily into a chair at the table. After a few moments the bowl of cereal was set in front of him. "Thanks, Mom," he croaked. Obviously his vocal chords were still asleep. His mother smiled at him and went into the living room, probably to watch some early talk show or something. Stan slurped his cereal and gazed ahead sleepily. He wondered if his dad had left for work already; he hoped so. He didn't think he wanted to hear another one of his father's 'don't screw up' speeches. However, he finished his breakfast, slipped on his shoes, grabbed his coat and bookbag, and was out the door before he could find out. Of course Stan loved his father, but lately his grades had started to slip and his father wasn't too happy with him.
He reached the bus stop in a matter of minutes, instantly waking up as soon as he saw his friends.
Through the years they hadn't changed much (except for the joyful gifts puberty had to offer them, and even with those, Cartman's voice was still as shrill as ever). Kyle Broflovski was still shorter than everyone, still possessed piercing green eyes, and still had a flaming head of red hair. He had started to grow into it, so it wasn't so afro-like anymore, and because of this he wore his trademark green hat less often. He and Stan had remained strong, if not,became stronger, through the course of their friendship. There was nothing that either of them didn't know about the other. They spent time with each other whenever they could, which often set themselves up to be one of Mr. Eric Cartman's not-so-witty comments. "Seriously, you guys," he'd scoff with that pudgy little smirk of his, "You're setting of my Gaydar and it's giving me a headache. Go geta room so you can bone each other in private."
Cartman was still a fat, vendictive whiner who always knew how to get his way. If he wanted something, he got it, and he'd be damned if some tree-hugging-hippie-whore stood in his way. Unfortunately for South Park, almost everyone was a tree-hugging-hippie-whore in Cartman's eyes, and he made sure to let everyone know it. The others often questioned why they stuck around with him; over the years he had set them up in so many traps or publically embarrassed them too many times, and they were starting to get tired of it. But they would soon realize that the small group of boys only had each other to count on. High school was a trying time for a teenager, and they counted on each other and the years of friendship to get them through it. Just Stan, Kyle, Cartman, and Kenny.
Kenny McCormick certainly had become a sight to behold. Like the others, he had adopted the shaggy hairdo, his blonde strands a close imitation of Stan's black ones. He finally stopped hiding his face behind his hood when he realized that chicks dig it. Something about his appearance made girls weak in the knees and hot in the crotch. This was lucky for him because hehad becomea major horn dog. He could twist the most innocent of comments into something wretched and perverted, and didn't mind sharing some of these with others.Kenny had certainly earned himself a reputation, and a fun one at that.
Kyle and Cartman were already at their daily banter, Kenny standing idly by with a smug grin on his face and giving an occasional laugh.
"Shut up, fat ass!"
"Look, Kyle, all I'm saying is that Jews are more likely to be gay than any other species," Cartman retorted with a matter-of-fact expression.
Stan rolled his eyes as he appeared at Kyle's side. "God, Cartman, you're so stupid."
"Hey look," Cartman jeered, "It's fag number two. And look, you're making Kyle all hot and bothered. Don't you see that massive boner that's got 'Stan' written all over it?"
Kyle was absolutely appalled by this suggestion. "What!"
Stan however was not phased by this at all. He had grown accustomed to Cartman's blows...which had now started to lose any humor or wittyness. "Why are you looking at Kyle's crotch, Cartman?" Cartman faltered, obviously not expecting this type of response, but Kenny spoke up before he even had a chance to think.
"Question is, Stan, why aren't you looking at Kyle's crotch?" His eyes danced with laughter as he teased Stan. "You know you wanna see that walrus schlong of his." Stan and Kyle only laughed. They knew he was teasing them...he only made Cartman seem more like a dumbass.
"God, Kenny," Cartman wailed, "Stop being so flaringly gay. Besides, Kyle's a Jew, he's circumcized. There's no way he's the size of a walrus."
"At least I don't have as much lard as a walrus, you fat fuck, " Kyle responded with annoyance.
"Alright ladies, shut up. Here's the bus." Stating the obvious was one of Stan's specialties. The 'ladies' fell into silence as they boarded the bus.
Stan stared at the clock. He just wanted to get out of this class; Algebra. The minutes seemed to last for hours as he started to feel sick with anticipation. Math was his worse subject, and none of his friends were in his class. Next was lunch, and after that his day would be halfway over. At lunch he could fill his growling stomach while chatting it up with his friends, and maybe, just maybe, catch a glimpse of her.
She was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen, and knew that as long as he felt like this (which seemed like it would be forever) she would always be that beautiful. She seemed to haunt his thoughts lately, making everything remind him of her. She had that eerie way of making him smile; of lighting his whole face up with a glimmer of hope and longing. She'd make his stomach dance, sending waves of pleasurable nausea through him, and he wouldn't have it any other way.
She was Wendy Testaburger, and the object of Stan's adoration. And suddenly, Stan didn't feel so hungry anymore.
Author's Note: Okay so that was really hard. It really isn't meant to be that good, as I said, it's just helping me get into the groove of things. shrug Trust me, there will be a plot. This was also just me getting the characters introduced. I am well-aware of the cliche-ness of them...but I couldn't resist making Kenny a horndog. It just seems like too much fun. XD And I can tell I will have a lot of fun with him. Uh oh. Oh well, review if you'd like. No need.