Like It's Her Birthday

by ReneyyySprouse

Wendy has a bad habit of being a little uptight. Stan has a bad habit of jumping to anxious conclusions. So just how willing will they both be to change and prove to their friends, to each other, and to themselves how much their relationship truly means to them? A bit smutty, and a bit cute. Stendy.

1. Part One

Like It's Her Birthday.
Part One -

-x-

Even with what felt like the weight of the whole world on her shoulders, it wasn't anywhere near enough to slow Wendy Testaburger down.

As the gorgeous, seventeen year old senior made her way down the corridor of South Park High School with her long, black ponytail swinging in the air behind her, Wendy had a sort of hurried pep in her step. She quickly began to near the entry to the school cafeteria with hopes that there was enough of the lunch period left for her to actually eat a full meal that day.

Wendy had been swamped with a million and one gruelling tasks lately throughout her ever-growing academic and social lives. The evidence of all these commitments was as clear as day in the form of the mountain of items she was struggling to carry down the hallway. On top of her school bag and regular pile of homework, Wendy was also juggling two huge advance placement chemistry text books, her and Bebe's binder filled to the brink with all their ideas for her best friend's upcoming eighteenth birthday dinner, and she was somehow managing to keep her pom poms tucked under her arm, too.

The teenage girl was certainly almost out of breath as the wide double doors to the cafeteria came just within her reach. Wendy swore for a split second that she could smell the intoxicating scent of a delicious veggie burger beckoning her, when all of the sudden, the heel of her beige coloured wedge fell victim to a small pile of spilled soda on the tiled floor.

Sucking in a sharp, surprised grunt, Wendy felt a twinge of pain rush throughout her body as she inevitably slipped and collapsed on her backside right in the middle of the corridor. Gazing around for a moment and examining the mess of paper and pens and pom poms that her fall had created, Wendy hung her head back with an annoyed groan. Maybe she wasn't going to have enough time to eat lunch today, after all.

Reluctantly shuffling forward in an attempt the collect scattered pile that surrounded her, Wendy found herself freezing for a moment as she felt the presence of somebody crouching down next to her.

"Need a hand, my dear?"

The sound of the voice echoing from beside her made goosebumps pop up over Wendy's arms. As she glanced up at the alluring figure, she felt her heart skip a beat.

"You're such a gentleman," she sang playfully.

As she gazed up at him with a smile glistening in her brown orbs, Stan grinned right back Wendy.

Much to the surprise of absolutely no-one, Stan Marsh had managed to successfully keep his epic romance with Wendy locked down throughout the whole of high school. The two elementary school sweethearts may have definitely had their fair share of slip ups and break ups through grades four, five and six - and even more so once they got to middle school. But by the time they hit ninth grade, both Stan and Wendy agreed that they needed to decide whether their relationship was going to continue along as a silly little third grade crush, or if they were actually going to try and be much more serious about it all, and about each other.

The decision had been a simple one. Stan and Wendy were just far too crazy about one another.

As he scooped up as many of her books and papers in his arms that he could manage, Stan stood up from the ground and reached his free hand down towards Wendy. The faintest possible blush crossed her cheeks as she took his hand in hers and allowed him to pull her up from the floor, too.

"What is all this stuff, anyway?" Stan asked, scanning over the first couple of pages in one of Wendy's books.

She shrugged her shoulders, "Just some more A.P. chem stuff," she answered, suddenly narrowing her eyes as Stan began to flick through the purple, glitter covered binder, "And some top secret stuff for Bebe's birthday dinner that is for girls' eyes only!"

Chuckling to himself at the teasing snarl in her voice as she snatched the folder from him, Stan shook his head at his girlfriend, "Relax, I am definitely not interested in sitting around with all you girls while you sip tea and eat crappy food and bitch about each other, or whatever it is you're planning on doing at this dinner - and I'm sure none of the other guys are, either."

"Good," Wendy spat back, sticking her tongue out at him, "It sure is going to be nice to have one peaceful Saturday night all to ourselves without you guys bugging us."

As he finally reached his arm out and pushed open the cafeteria door, Stan held it open for Wendy and watched her as she passed by him. A daring sense of playfulness spread throughout his veins at the sight of his girlfriend's hips swaying back and forth in her skin tight jeans.

Leaping away from the door and fastening his arm delicately around her waist from behind her, Stan leant down to Wendy and quickly brushed his lips against her neck as he whispered in her ear, "Well, that just means you and me are going to have plenty of catching up to do on Sunday, hm?"

The overly excited thoughts dancing about his mind were so overwhelming and consuming that Stan failed to immediately notice the sensation of Wendy's body tensing up at his intimate touch.

Wriggling away from his grasp, Wendy lamely sighed out his name, "Stan..."

And then, just like that, a familiar sense of reality snapped back in over the top of Stan's dream world. This was a situation that was certainly not new to him.

He and Wendy had been together forever. Forever and ever. They were the only couple in their whole senior year that had lasted this consistently for this long. And for the most part, they were completely inseparable. Whenever they were alone, they simply couldn't keep their hands off one another.

But it was a different story at school. And in public in general. And even when they were just in front of their friends.

Public displays of affection were not Wendy's strong suit - in any sense of the word. As far as she was concerned, they way she and Stan felt about each other and what they got up to behind closed doors was nobody else's business. And despite how opposite to her Stan may have felt about the situation, he knew it wasn't worth starting a fight over.

He just didn't want to upset Wendy... no matter how many slim cases of public rejection he had to endure.

Sighing as quietly as he could under his breath, Stan took a small step back, abiding by Wendy's rules as he handed back to her the pile of books. Smiling softly at him for being so understanding, Wendy leant up on her toes and instead offered her boyfriend a quick, innocent, kiss on the cheek.

"I'll see you in English?" she asked, trying to simply blow off the awkward moment.

Stan could only nod his head. Where was the point in trying to say anything more?

"Sure. Cya' then."

Giving his hand a gentle squeeze, Wendy then turned on her heels and skipped over towards the table in the middle of the cafeteria where Bebe and the other girls were sitting. Stan watched her as she left, groaning under his breath in the slimmest frustration.

For as long as he had put up with the 'no P.D.A.' rule throughout his relationship, he still couldn't quite understand it. What exactly was Wendy's problem with being a bit silly and cuddly in front of other people? Was she embarrassed? Was she worried about what others would think of her? Did she, maybe... not trust Stan, or something?

Trying to shake off the harrowing thoughts as this final notion crossed his mind, Stan spun around on the spot and made a silent beeline towards his own regular lunch table. He fished around in the bottom of his school bag for his sandwich as he eventually took a seat between his two best friends.

Kyle and Kenny were lost in whatever hilariously pointless conversation happened to be going down between them and the rest of the boys that day. Stan tried to pay close attention, catching snippets of the words being swapped here and there. But, somehow, the eighteen year old senior was unable to tear his eyes away from where Wendy sat on the other side of the cafeteria.

He watched her as she laughed along with the rest of the girls. She was so gorgeous. Stan felt like the luckiest guy in the world. But, at the same time, the teenage boy wasn't exactly sure how much more of this needless rejection he was willing to put up with.

"You guys!"

Suddenly being snapped from his trance at the unmistakable, grunting cries being huffed out from behind him, Stan looked over his shoulder to find Cartman waddling towards the group of boys with as much as haste as he could muster.

"Oh my God, you guys!"

As he swapped a quick glance with Kyle, the two best friends planted their feet firmly on the ground and leant all their body weight into the table to stop Cartman from shaking it in erratic excitement.

"Dude, what is it?" Kenny asked, speaking clearly since permanently discarding his orange parka from his closet.

Standing at the head of the table as Butters finally appeared by his side, Cartman slammed down an aggravated fist, "Have you artards heard what that bunch of skanks have got planned for this weekend?"

Rolling his eyes as he took a long sip from his chocolate milk, Kyle shook his head, "What makes you think we seriously give a shit about what the girls do at Bebe's dinner, fatass?"

Ignoring the usual insult from his long standing frenemy, Cartman carried straight along, "Because, Jew, they're totalling throwing a fuckin' sick party behind our backs!"

"What are you talking about?" Craig asked with a frown.

Stuttering in over the top of the conversation, Butters directed his attention to the guys, "Well, Eric and I heard Bebe and Nichole talking during history class, and they said that - "

"Bebe's fuckin' parents are gonna' be gone for the whole weekend and there's gonna' be music and pizza and booze!"

Up until that point in the conversation, Stan had been solely concentrating on eating his lunch and blocking out Cartman's hysteric ramblings. But at this final announcement from his other oldest friend, the dark haired boy felt his chest clench up.

"No way," Clyde suddenly cut in.

"Uh, yes way!" Cartman argued.

"It's true," Butters added, "Bebe's cousin, Ashley, and some other kids from North Park Community College are coming down and bringing enough alcohol for all of them. We heard the whole thing, didn't we, Eric?"

"So, wait a second," Kenny jumped back in, holding his hands up, "You're telling us that the girls are throwing a legit party where they're gonna' get drunk, hang out with a bunch of college kids, become fuckin' easy pickings, and they haven't invited us?"

The comment from Kenny made Stan's stomach turn. Throwing his sandwich back down in its sheet of cling wrap and pushing it away, the teenager ran his hand over his red poofball hat and snapped his eyes shut for a short second, "No, dude, you must have heard them wrong. They're just having some lame dinner, it's not a full blown party."

"Oh, yeah?" Cartman challenged, "And how the hell do you know?"

"Because, retard, Wendy's organising it, and she would never - "

Stopping himself as he suddenly realised what he had been about to say, Stan bit his tongue. He felt all colour drain from his face at the teasing and knowing expressions that lay across the features of the guys all around him.

"I'm sorry, what was that? Wendy would never...?" Cartman asked with a sarcastic snarl, "Stan, were you actually just about to admit that you've finally realised how much of a stuck-up prude your boring little girlfriend is?"

"Shut your fucking mouth, Cartman," Kyle sharply interjected before Stan had the chance to leap across the table and pummel Cartman to a pulp, "I'm pretty sure Stan would know if Wendy was planning anything like that for her and the other girls."

"Well, not unless she doesn't want you there."

Whipping his neck around at the sound of Craig's monotone voice, Stan shot daggers at his friend in the blue hat.

"Yeah," Clyde joined in from his spot beside Craig, "Are you two even together anymore?"

As he scrunched his fist into an ever growing ball of fury and frustration, Stan felt a fire light up behind his sapphire eyes, "Yes, we're still together, asshole."

"Well, it's not our fault if we can't fuckin' tell anymore," Clyde retorted, "She doesn't exactly seem all that interested in you, dude."

"Clyde's got a point, Stan," Cartman continued to prod as he smugly folded his arms over his chest, "The little betting pool I'm heading on how long it is till she dumps your ass again is making me more and more money every day."

Finally taking that as the last straw before he completely flipped out and punched one of them right between the eyes, Stan slammed his hands down on the table and pushed himself up from the bench seat.

As he swung one leg over his seat and heatedly stormed out of the cafeteria, Cartman chuckled loudly to himself, "Oh, c'mon, don't go getting sand in your vagina! We're just fucking with you!"

Shaking his head in disgust at the treatment of his best friend, Kyle glared at Butters for a moment as the blonde boy echoed Cartman's cruel laughter as loyally as ever. Finally diverting his attention back to his nemesis, the Jewish boy coiled his forked tongue. He was just about ready to spew some more hateful venom in Cartman's direction, when the overweight teenager suddenly beat him to the punch, sitting down in Stan's seat and pulling out a small notepad from the inside of his red coat.

"Okay, but seriously, the odds for Saturday night being the night Stan gets dumped are really beginning to drop, you guys."

Gritting his teeth together in furious disbelief at the sight of Cartman's betting book, Kyle growled under his breath, "Cartman..."

"If any of you guys wanna' make anymore bets, you'd better hand over your money right now."

A patronising scoff emitted from the back of Kyle's throat as a couple of the guys reached into their pockets for their wallets. The red-head rolled his eyes in one final wave of repulsion as he snatched up his school bag and climbed up from the bench.

"Some friends you guys are," he spat. Right as he had been about to march out of the cafeteria in search of Stan, Kyle sensed his eyes narrow one last time. He had just managed to spy Kenny reveal a very old, wrinkly looking dollar bill from the front pocket of his tattered jeans.

Again, Kyle shook his head, "Ahem?" he sniped, forcing Kenny to jump with surprise, "Do you really wanna' waste you last dollar for the whole week?"

Feeling a sheepish grin sweep across his mouth, Kenny gulped slightly at the aggression in Kyle's eyes. While the opportunity to win some money was almost too overpowering to turn down, the blonde teenager knew where his true loyalties lied.

He didn't want Stan to get broken up with again - he wanted him to be happy just as much as Kyle did. The both of them were exactly the type of best friend that money simply couldn't buy.

In one final bout of hesitation, Kenny soon groaned out loud as he reluctantly got up from his seat and joined Kyle on his hunt for Stan to make sure he was okay.

Man, this better have been worth it.

"Goddamn it..."

-x-

Finishing the final touches to her make-up and flicking the last of her curly, black ringlets behind her ear, Wendy took a step back and stared herself up and down in her floor length mirror.

The seventeen year old couldn't help but grin at her reflection in the glass that hung inside the door of her closet. This was the night she had been anticipating for so long. It was finally Saturday night, and finally time for Bebe's eighteenth birthday dinner.

Well, as far as all the girls' parents knew, it was still just a birthday dinner...

Squealing under her breath as she was barely able to contain her excitement any longer, Wendy whipped off her daggy tank top and stepped out of her blue skinny jeans. She reached forward, pulling the hanger out of her wardrobe that was holding up her new black party dress. She had purchased it especially for her best friend's eighteenth, and as lame as it probably sounded to any boy she'd ever try to explain it to, Wendy simply couldn't wait for the chance to finally wear it.

With this thought in mind, Wendy stretched her arm around behind her back and unclipped her white bra, shrugging out of it and letting it fall to the floor. Carefully taking the straps of her dress off the coathanger one at a time, Wendy's brown orbs suddenly flicked over to her bedroom door at the sound of a soft knock.

"Honey?" the voice of her mother called from the other side of it, "Stan's here to see you."

A small, giddy smile crossed Wendy at the pleasant surprise of her boyfriend's arrival, "Okay," the teenage girl called back, "He can come in."

Just as she heard the latch of her door click open, Wendy slowly pulled the black dress over her head and allowed it to drop over her body, "Hey."

Stan grinned at the sweet sound of Wendy's voice as he echoed her, "Hey."

Shutting the wooden door behind him, Stan turned his head to find that Wendy was standing in front of her closet, shielded by the open doors as she continued to examine herself in the mirror.

Casually strolling over towards her bed, Stan took a seat on the comfy mattress, taking an innocent glance around her room as he waited for her to finish getting changed. The two of them had sure spent their fair share of quality time between the four purple walls, just as they had in Stan's bedroom, too. Those were the memories that meant the most to the eighteen year old - when he and his girlfriend could be alone with one another and simply be themselves.

The thought of this abruptly made Stan blow the softest sigh out from between his lips. Ever since the previous afternoon at school, all he had been able to think about was the looming, dreaded force of Bebe's party. Was there any truth in what Cartman was saying? That Wendy was seriously going to spend her whole night getting drunk with a bunch of older college girls?

Even worse than that... was there any truth in Cartman and the rest of the guys' horrid suspicions that Wendy was planning on breaking up with him again any time soon?

Stan wasn't particularly certain, about any of it. But as he shook his head to himself and tried to clear his mind as best he could, he was damn sure that one way or another, he was going to ask Wendy and find out.

"You know I'm about to head over to Bebe's, right?"

As the lyrical sound of her sweet tone rocked Stan from his haunting daydream, he nervously cleared his throat, "Uh, yeah. Yeah, I know. I just wanted to come over and see you before you left."

Wendy felt a blush fall into her cheeks, "Aw," she cooed dreamily, "Well, we should have lunch or something tomorrow and catch up."

Trying to ignore the ever-climbing pitter-patter of his heart in his chest, Stan shut his eyes for the shortest second. He couldn't let himself become distracted by his pure adoration of Wendy until he had the chance to talk to her about everything that was on his mind. After all, he didn't even have the first clue how she was going to react to what he had to say. Perhaps after tonight she wouldn't even want to see him tomorrow.

Shuddering at this thought, Stan took a deep breath, "Yeah, for sure..." he spoke, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck, "But, uh, Wendy? About tonight... I just wanted to ask - "

"Can you zip me?"

Stan wasn't sure what had driven to him to a sharper silence. The fact that Wendy had cut him off and snapped in over the top of his nervous tone, or the mere image of her standing before him and looking absolutely breathtaking.

Within the very first second of laying eyes on her as she twirled around on the spot, Stan was positive he was going to throw up. But his throat had become so dry that he couldn't even muster the moisture to do so.

Wendy's hair sat in a bun high on top of her head. Her gorgeous raven locks were curled and strands of them hung down from the loose knot, perfectly framing her face. Her make-up was impeccable as always and complimented her black dress and pink heels that graced her feet. The knee-length dress had a tight fitting bodice that hugged Wendy's torso and flowed out from the waist down. The neckline and the body of the dress, just above her belly button and below her bust, was completely sheer, and her porcelain skin shone through like a thousand diamonds.

Stan's eyes were bulging right out of his head. Wendy looked amazing - she was stunning... well, not that Stan didn't think that she always looked stunning. This was just the first time in a long time that the dark haired boy could remember his girlfriend putting so much of a purposeful effort into her appearance. It was kind of peculiar. What was so important about this night?

"That's what you're wearing?"

The words from her boyfriend hadn't exactly been the loving compliment that Wendy may have been expecting. As she felt her brow furrow in confusion and her expression drop with slight dejection, she coiled her tongue.

"You wanna' change your tone and try again?"

The traces of hurt that filled her voice immediately made Stan turn a horrible pale shade of white. Cringing outwardly and making a mental note to kick himself later, the dark haired boy took a step towards Wendy and gestured for her to turn back around.

"Shit, no - no, I didn't mean it like that," he hopelessly stuttered. Taking his gentle grasp to the zipper of Wendy's dress, Stan slowly pulled it up, bringing the fabric together and concealing the soft skin of his girlfriend's back.

Blowing out a shaky breath, he wrapped an arm around her, hugging her waist as he placed a tender kiss on her cheek. Wendy glanced up, her brown eyes instantly meeting the blue of Stan's in the mirror where he stood behind her, still with a loving hold of her slender torso.

"You're just so beautiful."

Wendy's heart skipped about a dozen beats. Her face heated up bright red in a blush from where Stan had kissed her, and a thousand tiny goosebumps popped up over her arms at the adoring words he murmured to her. She kept her vision locked with his in the mirror, her lips parted slightly for a second or two.

And then, as she wriggled out of his grip, Wendy hastily spun back around to face him.

"We need to talk."

Just like that, Stan felt his soul completely shatter into a million pieces.

Without saying anything more - for now, anyway - Wendy took a step around her frozen boyfriend and silently sat down on her bed. Stan's rapid breath began to dangerously increase, catching in his throat every now and then. The colour drained from his face again and he held down more nervously sick vomit as he unwillingly about faced and joined Wendy where she sat.

Crap... what if Cartman really had been right all along? About her breaking up with him again? Stan wanted more than anything to immediately ask Wendy if everything was okay, but he simply couldn't find the words to do so. He knew that he even dared to open his mouth, he would only puke up all of his emotions.

Before long, Wendy slowly licked her lips.

"Okay... okay, so I've been considering this for a while now," she spoke, seemingly gathering her thoughts, "Stan, we've been together... forever, and... you are so sweet, and so caring..."

Stan was totally solidified in his place. He tried to remain as strong as he possible could, using all his willpower to stop any fearful tears from pricking the corners of his eyes as he anticipated Wendy's next words. He only wondered what the hell it was that he had done that was so wrong.

In the next second, Wendy reached for Stan's hand.

"Stan, I -"

"Wendy, honey?" Mrs. Testaburger's voice suddenly reverberated from downstairs, "Come on, sweetheart, I'll drive you to Bebe's now!"

The moment that had been ferociously frozen in time suddenly ripped Stan into the dull reality that Wendy had been cut off before she had the chance to tell him what she needed to tell him.

The teenage boy was on the verge of a genuine heart attack as Wendy glanced back up at him. She hesitated for a short second or two, chewing down indecisively on her bottom lip. And then, after all that had just occurred between the two of them, Wendy could only shrug her shoulders.

"This can wait," she announced in an incredibly nonchalant manner as she stood up from her bed, "Do you need my mom to drive you home?"

Stan's head was spinning. There were dozens of different internal voices fighting for occupancy of his mind, each of them screaming at Stan and begging him to say something - anything to Wendy.

Part of him wanted to gently ask her what is was she trying to tell him. Another part wanted him to continue with his original plan and confront her with his concerns about how much unnecessary distance he felt was beginning to settle between them. Another part simply told him 'to hell with it', and dared him to yell at her that if she wanted to break up with him she should just do it already.

But all of those demanding voices were being drowned out by one, singular thought.

If this really was going to be the end between he and Wendy - Stan wanted to prolong the inevitable for as long as he possibly could.

"Uh... I'm going to Kyle's, actually."

"Oh," Wendy answered with a strangely bubbly tone, "That's okay, she can drop you off there."

As she reached down to him where he still sat on her bed and offered him her hand, Stan tried not to appear too obviously confused by Wendy's conflicting behaviour. He took her hand, stood up by her side, and then followed her from her room all the way downstairs to her mother's car - the whole time asking himself over and over again just what the hell was going on.

This was the only question that remained with him on the entire car trip from Wendy's house to Kyle's. He tried as hard as he could to silent his nagging thoughts and revel in the pleasant chatter and silly singing along with the radio between Wendy and her mum, but there was an agonising notion stabbing at his brain and telling him that maybe this would be the last car ride he would ever take with them.

As the car eventually pulled up in the Broflovskis' driveway, Stan took a deep, subtle breath. He grabbed a hold of the handle on the inside of the passenger door. Wendy had let him ride shotgun on the short trip, and as she climbed out of the back seat of her mother's car to take his place, she glimpsed up at him with an adoring grin.

The sweetness in her expression tortured Stan's emotions and pulled at his heartstrings as he attempted to hold a calm appearance.

"So, lunch tomorrow?"

Stan narrowed his blue eyes, "Um..."

She still wanted to have lunch with him?

"Uh... sure. I'll swing by your place and come get you tomorrow."

"Okay," Wendy agreed, tucking a raven coloured ringlet behind her ear. She held her gaze with him for a moment, staring at him in that hypnotising way that made his knees weak.

And then, as she smirked at him once more and turned around to climb back into the car, Stan finally snapped.

"Wait, Wendy?"

At the sound of her name, Wendy immediately turned around. She tilted her head and raised a curious eyebrow, waiting for Stan to speak again. But the instant of bravery that had momentarily swelled in his chest ultimately collapsed inside of him and fizzled out in the bottom of his stomach. He couldn't do this.

"Um... have fun, okay?"

A soft, pink blush grazed Wendy's cheeks at the sweetness from her boyfriend. Taking a tiny step forward, the teenage girl took a tender hold of Stan's arm and leant up on her toes, pecking his lips with one small, chaste kiss.

Soon after that, the revitalising moment was over, and Stan was left in a puddle of insane insecurity as he watched Wendy and her mother take off up the street en route to Bebe's house.

The eighteen year old sighed, taking his hand to his lips where Wendy's had just been. Anyone would think that this would have ceased any and all forms of doubt in Stan's mind and instantly made him feel better. After all, why would Wendy kiss him if she was planning on breaking up with him? But, instead, as he crept up to front door of Kyle's house and greeted Sheila Broflovski, all the incident had done was caused Stan to ask himself a million more questions.

Strolling down the upstairs hallway of his best friend's house, Stan half-heartedly nudged into Kyle's bedroom door that was already partly open. The Jewish boy glanced up from his laptop screen at the sound of the visitor entering his room, smiling to find that it was Stan.

"About time, dude," he spat with a laugh, shutting the lid of his laptop, "What took you so long?"

Stan shrugged his shoulders, pulling out the chair at Kyle's desk and taking a seat, "Sorry. I was at Wendy's place," he began to explain, dejection coating his voice, "She's on her way to Bebe's place now."

Kyle cocked an eyebrow at his friend's dull tone, "What, you're not worried about her, or something, are you?"

Again, Stan could only heave his shoulders in a hopeless shrug, "I dunno'... should I be?" he argued, "I mean, she's gonna' be over there partying with alcohol and a whole bunch of college girls, right?"

As the last couple of words trickled off the end of Stan's tongue, Kyle felt his expression falter for a split second. He frowned, wondering for a moment if Stan had actually meant to say what he had just spoken.

The red-headed boy cleared his throat, "Well, uh... sure, I mean, there might be some other girls over there..."

Instantly gazing up to pierce Kyle with his apprehensive vision, Stan sensed his crystal blue eyes begin to expand with a vicious flame, "Some other girls?" he said, repeating his best friend, "What do you mean? Cartman and Butters said that Bebe's cousin Ashley is bringing all her friends down with her with North Park?"

As an overwhelming weight of realisation crashed down onto Kyle's shoulders, he drove himself to a dramatic pause. Reaching his hand up to awkwardly scratch his head under his trusty green hat, the teenage boy swallowed, trying to frame his next statement as carefully as he could.

"Dude... Bebe's cousin's a dude."

Stan felt his heart stop.

"What?" he sniped, "Bebe's cousin Ashley - "

" - Which happens to be a very common unisex name," Kyle countered with a shrug of his own as he held his hands up in defence.

Immediately bolting up from his seat and forcing it to roll back into Kyle's desk, Stan felt a panic sweep through him as he took his hands to his temples, "So, you're telling me that Wendy is heading over to a party right now where she is probably gonna' end up drunk out of her mind and surrounded by a bunch of college dudes?"

"Not a bunch," Kyle retorted, attempting to calm Stan down as he sprung to his feet, too, "Butters heard the girls saying that it was just Bebe's cousin and, like, three of his friends."

Kyle tried to ease his best friend's sudden nerves as much as he could, but no matter what else the Jewish boy had to say, Stan's imagination was already far too inconsolable. His mind had been irreversibly set on a wild rollercoaster ride, concocting a million and one different sickening scenarios about just what kind of night Wendy may have been walking herself into. And there was no way Stan was prepared to simply sit back and let any of them come true - not a damn chance.

"Oh, no fucking way..."

Kyle's hazel eyes narrowed at his oldest friend as he watched Stan rip his cell phone out from the pocket of his jeans and swipe across the screen, "Stan..."

Before the wary tone could even fully escape his lips, Kyle jumped in slight surprise as he felt his own phone suddenly vibrate in his pocket.

The red head frowned in confusion for a moment, but only felt himself cringe as he unlocked his slim-lined device and spotted an instant message sitting in his inbox. The message had been sent to the group chat that he and Stan shared with Cartman, Kenny and every one of the other guys that they had been friends with since elementary school.

The tight-knit group definitely weren't strangers to tackling strange adventures head on and causing trouble for themselves or anyone else. And as Kyle stared down the five little words that Stan had typed to the group of boys, it instantly became clear that the recurring theme of trouble making was certainly not going to be lost on this particular night...

'We're crashing that fucking party'

-x-

First of all, lovely readers, I would like to point out I wrote this story before season twenty's second episode Skank Hunt aired last Wednesday. If you go back and watch it, you can actually pinpoint the exact moment where my heart snapped in two...

Anyway! Hello all! I hope you enjoyed reading this first part of my new story. This story will consist of three parts overall, and is an idea I've had chilling in the back of my mind forverrrr, so I'm super excited to update again soon.

Please feel free to leave me a review and let me know what you thought! What do we think Wendy was about to say to Stan, and how exactly is Bebe's party going to go once the boys crash it..? I'd love to hear what you all think might happen next :)

Till next time guys,

Reneyyyyyyyy x