High school had never been entirely easy. Not for Stan. Growing up in South Park seemed to have a negative effect on the other kids from normal towns, which is generally why the South Park kids stuck together. It hadn't been easy, especially with all the weirdness that seemed to focus in on their screwy little mountain town.
Stan was honestly surprised that they were able to pass, let alone attend most of their classes. Elementary school really should have been their first warning about the years to come, but on graduation day, all Stan Marsh could think about was how far they'd come.
He was sitting by himself on the bleachers of Park Community High, barely registering the cool air that brushed past his face and the messy black hair protruding from his worn, old hat. Thinking about it now, he could almost envision how it looked in fourth grade. New-ish still, and generally untainted by the years and ordeals it had gone through, from national disasters to painful amounts of stupidity, it had survived. Now it was much smaller in Stan's eyes, and it's colours had faded from numerous battles with the washing machine. To a complete stranger it might look completely different, all worn out of shape and much more threadbare than it had been once, but he still saw his old hat as it was when it was new.
Stan smiled fondly at the thought as he watched the other students arrive in their cars. From his position, he could almost see the whole car park, save for the Goth Corner, which was hidden away from the prying eyes of the 'conformists'.
It was very nostalgic for Stan, watching his classmates, close or otherwise, drive into the school on their last day. All the kids he'd met in high school would drive in, get out of their cars then run to the nearest group and start the usual hugs and tears. He smiled, it was sweet, and really quite sad. But these people, the ones who had really only endured school for the sake of it, and especially went out of their way to be assholes, were not the people he cared about.
Which is when Stan promptly spun around to face behind the bleachers, which is where his friends, and the other students from South Park would park. It wasn't surprising really, most of the school had ostracised them years ago, but it didn't really matter all that much now.
He could see everyone he'd grown up with, faced life-threatening situations with, and loved through his whole life before his eyes. They were like family, and it just sucked so hard that they would be seeing each other everyday anymore. Sure, they'd see each other around the town, or maybe on television for some kind of international incident, but it wouldn't be the same, and Stan really hated it.
There were only three cars in the lot at the moment, which wasn't all that surprising in itself, but the three drivers, and nervous passengers involved, were what made it worth it.
His three best friends in the whole world, Kyle Broflovski, Eric Cartman, and Kenny McCormick, were all crammed into what Cartman so kindly dubbed the Jew-mobile, which was currently idling at one end of the lot as if it was waiting for something. Which, Stan knew for a fact, it was.
The second car, already parked, was Token's, who raised a hand to Stan in greeting as he climbed out and walked slowly round the sleek black automobile to sit on the bonnet, a small smile playing on his face as he watched the spectacle before him.
The third car belonged to Craig Tucker, self proclaimed nemesis of the aforementioned Stanley Marsh. The car had a bright red exterior, naturally. Tweek and Clyde usually caught a lift with him to school, which explained the faint smell of bad Mexican food and frantic screams carried by the breeze.
Stan wasn't entirely sure, but he thought he saw Clyde brandish a burrito at Kyle's car.
And that was that.
Kyle, never one to back down from a greasy, meaty, poorly wrapped Mexican knock-off, revved the engine menacingly. Even from where he sat, Stan could see the tell tale signs of a smirk on Tucker's face as he too revved his car.
The whole thing was set up like a medieval joust, Kyle vs. Craig, both with fatasses behind them screaming random obscenities and each a nervous blonde beside them who, quite frankly, didn't want to die today.
The two drivers slowly let their feet off their respective brakes, easing each vehicle into a slow crawl towards one another. It was routine. Ever since the tenth grade, the two groups of boys would play chicken. As anyone with a car and a bunch of irresponsible teenagers will tell you, it was exhilarating.
The slow crawl at the beginning was the first step. The cars had both managed to get a metre closer to each other on both sides, still leaving about twenty between them. Then there would be the Moment. The Moment was when either one, or sometimes both, drivers would utter a manly curse, then slam the accelerator and floor it. No one had managed to crash yet, although Kyle's car did get a nasty scratch after the four had almost swerved into a tree to avoid Tucker's maniacal driving.
They were closer now. Token caught Stan's attention with a wave, before surreptitiously pointing at Kyle and mouthing, 'He'll go first', a safe bet in Stan's opinion. Still, never one to back down from a bet, Stan pointed at 'Red Racer' and gave a thumbs up. The wager made, both bystanders watched on as the mornings entertainment was right, Kyle was the first to charge. Craig barely had time to get out of the way as the Jew-mobile thundered past with startling speed. Stan was pretty sure the car could get past a hundred, but apparently he was wrong.
Still recovering from their near miss, Craig eased his car over next to Token's. The rich kid slid gracefully off his own car before walking round to calm down Tweek, who has thrown open his door and collapsed as soon as Craig killed the engine.
Kyle swung the car round, still at speed, and parked by Tucker. He and Cartman jumped out and fist bumped, Kenny, like Tweek, seemed to have a slight loss of proper motor control. Stan stood, brushing flecks of peeling white paint off his jeans, before heading down to congratulate his friends. By the time the other South Park kids arrived, Clyde was perched on the hood of Token's car, telling anyone who'd listen about the heroic battle they had fought mere minutes ago. Craig leant on the driver side door of his own car, watching in amusement. Token stood beside him, nervously watching for the damage Clyde would inevitably cause his poor car. Tweek sat in the dirt next to Token's shinny silver rims, nervously gulping at the coffee Butters had shown up with. A small crowd gathered around the two cars, students and friends filled with either curiosity, or were just too lazy to leave the carpark. Stan, Kenny, Eric, and Kyle stood a small way away.
"Can you believe that this is our last day of high school? I mean, its gone so fast!" Kyle said with a nervous anticipation. "I hope we all get to graduate…"
Stan starts to say something along the lines of, 'Of course we will, Kyle', until he realises that he's not that person anymore. He stares hard at the gravel.
Before the silence can become awkward, Cartman cuts in.
"Well, Kenny won't, he's too goddamn poor to even afford the fucking hat tassle!" He half shouted, before laughing like an asshole as Kenny jumps him, howling muffled profanities.
Stan smiles as Kyle pushes his way into the fight and starts his own argument with both of them. By now, the crowd is gravitating towards the now escalating fight, Clyde himself leaping off the car (to Token's horror), and yelling for Eric to 'kick out their shit'. This earns Clyde a wild elbow to the face, courtesy of Kenny, which then involves Token and Craig in the fray. Punches, kicks, random limb flailing and insults fly about, injuring both the brawlers and their crowd.
Knowing the inevitable, Stan walks over to the slowly growing altercation. He knows that things are going to change after today, change was impossible to stop. But he learned a long time ago that sometimes to keep going forward, you need to make a left turn. Nodding to himself, a weight lifted from his shoulders, Stan throws himself into his friends' retarded attempt at a fight.
As someone bites his shoulder (probably Craig, his fucked up teeth were like a shark's), and a chubby hand pulls at his hair (Cartman, that traitorous bastard!), Stan can't help but feel excited about tomorrow.
AN: Hey, so first attempt at a fanfiction in ages, so any and all feedback would be awesome. Thanks!