The sudden sensation of the front wheel clipping a pothole in the road jolted him awake.
At the abrupt wakeup call, seventeen-year-old Stan Marsh mumbled and ground the sleep out of his eyes with his knuckles in order to survey his surroundings. By the looks of things, they were still travelling to Denver and had hit a slight flow of traffic into the city. With a weary yawn, Stan adjusted his slouched posture, accidentally elbowing the sleeping boy next to him slightly, and regarded the pamphlet that was still lightly clasped in his left hand.
Denver had been recently selected to host the state championships for swimming and by some form of miracle, South Park's high school had somehow muscled their way through the preliminaries to take one of the final ten spots in the tournament. Their guaranteed spot meant that Stan and three other students from his grade would be taking a two hour trip to the state capital in order to represent his high school and more importantly, his hometown.
Admittedly, the swimming club hadn't been his initial choice for extracurricular activities at the start of his high school life but there was something about the amount of skill and practice it took to tame the water that eventually drew him to the sport. Sure, football had presented him with a more physical challenge and served as the most logical choice for a boy his age but honestly, he just couldn't get himself to enjoy it as much as he used to as a child. In fact, he only agreed to play it in his first year of high school at the 'request' of his father who eventually got himself banned from attending any of his son's games through constant drunken brawling. But Stan wasn't complaining; he took his father's ban as the perfect opportunity to hang up his helmet at the end of the season and chose to pursue a different sport for the rest of his high school career.
The fact that alcohol consumption was banned at any of their practices was an added bonus. It meant that his father's antics couldn't distract him from participating like it had done in baseball, basketball or football – that is, if his father even bothered to show up, anymore.
It was no secret that his father was disappointed in his choice of extracurricular activities and even some of his old football teammates called him an outright pussy when they discovered he had decided to sign up for swimming practice. But it's not like any of their opinions mattered all that much in the long run. He had been a part of the team for three years now and if anything, Stan was just glad to be doing something he personally enjoyed and still managed to keep up with his physical appearance by being constantly on the go.
Plus, there were fewer chances of breaking your arms, snapping your tendons, suffering severe internal bleeding, getting your teeth smashed out or inflicting other athletes with a serious case of head trauma when it came to swimming. And that's just how he liked it.
Glancing around the bus, Stan took note of each of the five other teenagers accompanying him on what felt like the longest bus ride to Denver ever. At the front, Clyde was busy sitting with a large set of headphones on and a magazine on his lap, effectively shutting out the world around him. He would bob his head a little every so often to the beat of his music but never once let his eyes stray from the material in his hands. Next to the brunette was Tweek who had been silently quivering from stress since the moment he sat down. The poor guy hadn't been a part of the swimming team for as long as Stan and from what he remembered, Tweek only agreed to join the club because the fidgety blonde found swimming to be somewhat therapeutic – so long as the water wasn't thrashed around when he was in the pool and he wasn't held down underwater by any older students.
Kevin Stoley was travelling with them, serving as the team's probable stand-in due to Tweek's periodic spasms brought on by his intense anxiety. It was a decision made mainly by their coach but none of the boys appeared to mind. Hell, even Tweek seemed to be comforted by the idea of having Kevin along for the ride. And sure, Stan knew that Stoley could be a huge freaking nerd when he was engaged in conversation but the boy could swim just as well as the rest of them so he deserved at least some kind of credit.
Stan glanced to his right to regard the blonde snoring somewhat loudly with the hood of his red and white jacket pulled over his eyes, likely to keep the sun from disturbing his slumber. Kenny had been on the swimming team the longest out of the six of them on the bus and was practically the reason Stan had joined before the end of their freshman year. After hearing that the former quarterback had hung up his boots for the last time, Kenny gleefully jumped at the chance to get the teen involved with the swimming club. He had introduced him to the former coach who immediately took a liking to Stan and since then, he never looked back. To his credit, Kenny was probably the best swimmer on their team by far and Stan was just glad to be sharing the experience with someone as close to him as the blonde.
And then there was Eric Cartman.
Unlike Kevin, Stan had absolutely no idea why the tubby brunette felt the need to tag along to every single one of their competitions. He definitely wasn't a swimmer and in spite of the team's protests, their newly appointed coach had occasionally offered the flabby teen a chance to become a part of the club in the past two years. Fortunately for the group, their coach's attempts were often shot down by loud-mouthed excuses or fictitious health issues that prevented the teenager from taking part in any athletic-based activities at school.
Though Stan was pretty sure that 'Lazy fat-ass syndrome' wasn't a medically recognised illness.
The bus finally slowed to a stop outside a rather extravagant looking building and the six South Park teenagers grabbed their respective gym bags before following their coach off the bus and into the hotel that had been booked specifically for the next two weeks in order for Denver to host the championships.
"Okay children, you wait here while I go get our asses registered for the upcoming events!" Chef ordered, heading towards the registration desk that had been set up in the foyer.
Due to the school's dwindling budget from a recent spate of 'sexual harassment' cases, several of the academic staff had to pitch in and accept different roles within the school board and oddly enough, Chef had somehow landed himself an extra job as Swimming Coach in their sophomore year - not that Stan minded, of course. The wise cafeteria worker had always been a great source of inspiration for the majority of the teenagers in South Park; it never seemed to matter what problems or troubles they faced in life, Chef always knew exactly what to say in order to put their issues into perspective and aided the students in growing up into (somewhat) reputable young adults. To top it off, he couldn't have been such a bad coach if he managed to get them this far in only two years of officially coaching.
"Well, this is it, guys." Stan mused aloud "We've finally made it to the State finals. Now we just have to keep our momentum flowing and we might actually be able to beat Denver."
Kenny gave his friend a crooked grin from underneath the shadows of his hood "Dude, we kicked ass all over the place during preliminaries, Team Denver stands no chance against us!"
Tweek made a sharp yelp as if to agree with their teammate "Y-Yeah man, w-we gotta be the last team standing in this thing or else my parents might sell me into slavery…!"
"Tweek, I'm sure your dad's just exaggerating when he says that kinda stuff." Kevin reasoned as he adjusted the hefty gym bag slung over his right shoulder.
Stan stuffed his hands into his tracksuit jersey's pockets, taking in the faces and vivid tracksuit colours of athletes from the other qualifying schools that surrounded him. Students from Boulder, Fairplay and Bailey all currently chattered excitedly amongst themselves and their coaches as the hotel staff bustled around the crowds to make sure everyone was situated and on schedule. The teams from Conifer and Greeley were the next to arrive followed shortly by the teams from Fort Collins, Middle Park and Longmont. But oddly enough, the home team from Denver appeared to still be absent.
"Man, it's getting crowded in here!" Clyde commented as Tweek stepped closer to his side.
"Yep, it's turning out to be a real sausage fest in here, for sure." Cartman crudely retorted, sniffing a little "Too bad we couldn't get a few chicks to show up here beforehand."
"Shut up, Cartman." Stan sighed in an exasperated manner "We have to tell you every time we come to these things that it's an all-boys tournament. The girls attend their own events."
"Yeah, that way creeps like you can't spy on them in the locker room." Kenny joked.
"Aye! We all know you'd be the first one runnin' into that locker room, you poor piece of crap!" Cartman childishly retorted, crossing his thick arms over his broad chest.
"Cartman, why the hell do you even come to these events?" Stan asked, genuinely curious.
Clyde chose that moment to also chime in to back his teammate up "Yeah, you don't do anything when you're here except trash talk other teams and try to sell some of the athletes a 'super juice' or something to get us into trouble."
"That was only one time, Clyde! And I told you guys I'm here for moral support! You need me to get you guys to the top!" Cartman fired back, pointing an accusing finger at them.
"Actually that happened twice." Kenny reminded him "And there was also that one time you attempted to-"
"Kinney, I swear to God Imma kick you squa' in the nuts if you say another word. Seriously." Cartman protested, quickly cutting the blonde's speech short.
"Don't look now but our rivals for the championship have finally decided to show up."
Kevin's voice had blown through the heated discussion about Cartman's bullshit intentions and with the rest of his team, Stan turned to look at the entrance of the hotel. Sure enough, a trio of athletes clad in purple and gold tracksuits made their way into the foyer with an older woman, who Stan figured must have been their coach, in tow. They didn't look like too much of a threat this year; their tallest member had an expression of indifference plastered on his stoic face and his charcoal-coloured bangs rested just above cold navy-blue eyes. Next to their taller member, stood their smallest member with a hairstyle that consisted of short sides and a longer tuft of blonde hair on the top of his head. He seemed to be their team's version of Tweek as he looked about nervously and frequently wrung his hands together as his cobalt eyes darted around, taking in the atmosphere of the crowded foyer. Their third member was just a few inches shorter than their tallest and judging by the name 'Token' embroidered in gold stitching on his expensive-looking gym bag, this guy was probably richer than all the South Park team combined.
Yeah, these three kids standing by the entrance had no chance against them this year.
Or that's what Stan initially thought until another team member fumbled towards them, seemingly apologizing for getting held up outside. Having caught sight of the fourth member as they were being chastised by the stout woman, Stan felt as though his heart had skipped a beat. Their fourth swimmer was fairly tall and rather slender with a mop of curly auburn hair nestled atop his head. From a distance, Stan could see the boy had olive-green eyes and a fairly prominent nose compared to the rest of his team. In fact, he looked somewhat similar to the woman who was scolding him for taking too long to get off their bus.
"Sweet, they've got a skinny ginger on their team." Cartman smirked as he rubbed his gloved hands together "These guys have no chance. Everyone knows gingers can't swim."
"Well, they have to be at least a bit decent to make it this far." Clyde apathetically reasoned.
The woman next to Stan's red-haired fixation jostled her way over to the desk that Chef had walked to minutes before, leaving the four boys to take in their surroundings and chat amongst each other. Then, by some miracle, Stan managed to make eye contact with the redhead, causing himself to inhale sharply. Emerald eyes stared into his sapphire ones from across the room and for a moment, the teen could have sworn that time slowed to a halt.
Stan had already come to terms with his bi-curious nature after his most recent breakup with one of the cheerleaders six months ago. Thankfully, it hadn't been as messy as some of his previous hang-ups and both parties had left the relationship with mutual feelings towards the conclusion of their three-month courtship. Since then, Stan had mainly focused on improving his academic grades to a steady flow of B's and the occasional A- or spending his free time between his friends and practice sessions at the community pool. But now, looking at the curly-haired male across the sea of colourful vestments, Stan had felt his curiosity beginning to ebb away at his conscious with a new fervour that couldn't be ignored.
"Gather 'round, children!"
Stan was shaken from his dream-like stasis and quickly followed the other boys to congregate in front of Chef who was grinning at them, full of pride "South Park has been officially welcomed into the state finals, So, I want you to give it your all this season, children! We have an official induction later this morning and the representatives have informed me that we can use Denver's pool for our practice drills. So get your asses up to your rooms and be back down here for the 10:30 induction. After that, we're heading out for our first practice!"
The six boys all collectively groaned before moving to retrieve their card keys from Chef who informed them they would be staying on the fourth floor of the building for the next few weeks in twin rooms, meaning they would ultimately have to share whether they agreed on the circumstances or not. Feeling someone warmly clap a hand over his shoulder, Stan observed Kenny from the corner of his eye, catching another glimpse of his lopsided smile. No words had to be exchanged; he already knew that the blonde was offering to partner up with him for a room and Stan had no reason to deny him. However, this mutual decision between the pair didn't please a certain someone.
"Aye! Kinney, you said you were gonna share a room with me this time!" Cartman angrily shouted, pointing a stubby finger at the blonde.
"Sorry dude, I'm sharing with Stan so we can go over practice routines." Kenny shrugged.
"Fine! I'll just share a room with Tweek and we'll have a better time than you two fags will!"
Tweek gave a terrified yelp as he gripped his blonde locks tightly between unsteady fingers "Augh! O-oh Jesus…! D-don't get me involved in this, man…!"
Stan tuned out the bickering between Cartman and the rest of his teammates about who was sleeping where while they walked towards the hotel's elevator after Chef. Before stepping in, Stan glanced back into the foyer looking for a certain redhead that had unexpectedly gained his interest. Upon locating him, Stan caught the male staring at him until the redhead quickly broke eye contact to inaudibly converse with their shortest team member. In that brief instant, a warm, vaguely familiar sensation began to pool within Stan's gut.
Dude.