I don't own South Park - it's owned by the very talented Trey Parker and Matt Stone.

Stan's Summer

by cell12

Stan Marsh was not having a good day. His girlfriend, Wendy, had dragged him to the mall, only for him to spend two hours waiting outside a lingerie shop waiting for Wendy and her best friend Bebe. People had passed by looking at him and he knew what they were thinking - why would a teenage boy be hanging around outside a store like that, he must be some kind of pervert. Stan had never felt so embarrassed and ashamed in his life. Wendy had shown no sympathy or understanding when she finally returned.

He had tried to call his best friend, but Kyle's phone was switched off. Stan suspected that Kyle was still at the hospital waiting at Cartman's bedside. The Fat-ass had been hit by a car a few days ago and hadn't woken up yet. It wasn't that Stan minded Kyle's vigil, but it was unusual. He suspected something else was going on but would wait for until Kyle came to him rather than force himself into whatever was happening. He trusted Kyle's good judgement on most things, but Eric Cartman was his best friends one weakness.

Sometimes Stan wished he could be more confident around girls - like his other friend, Kenny. Kenny was a chick-magnet and something of a man-whore. He usually had two to three girls on the go at once, dating and bedding them before getting bored and dumping them. Not that Stan would use girls like Kenny did, but it would be nice to have the confidence and the easy chat. Stan still had trouble around Wendy and they'd been dating, off and on, for years.

After paying for lunch for three - of course the girls had spent their money shopping - Wendy had persuaded him to go with her to her tennis club. Stan had no idea why Wendy insisted on playing tennis in the summer. South Park only had a couple of months a year without snow and was more conjunctive to winter sports.

So there he was, standing on the tennis court, racket in hand, wearing shorts and a t-shirt borrowed from Wendy, trying to learn the rudiments of a game that he couldn't care less about. Wendy was droning on about ball placement during serves and that the scores went; love, 15, 39, 40 and on a tied game, advantage.

"So I just have to hit it over the net?" He had asked. Wendy had then explained again about hitting the ball into the cross-court boxed area for the serve but after that all that mattered was keeping the ball in court.

"This is a stupid game," Stan had finally commented, "why are you making me learn this?"

"I thought it would be a fun thing for us to do together as a couple," Wendy pouted. Stan hated it when she tried to be cute to get her own way - she just ended up being annoying.

"I'm not really enjoying this," Stan said as he tried an overhead serve and missed the ball completely.

"Tell you what Stan, if you beat me I'll show you what I bought this morning at the mall."

"I think I've seen enough women's underwear to last me a lifetime," Stan replied.

Wendy gave Stan her how-stupid-are-you look, "I meant a private fashion show - where I'm the model."

Stan's eyes stretched open - finally comprehending Wendy's meaning, "Oh," he said before delivering a perfect high-speed ace.

This is the side story that I cut out of Cartman, I'm Your Boyfriend - massive plug - to focus on the main story. I've re-written it so it fits as a one-shot, the original version told the story as it happened rather than Stan remembering while he tunes out Wendy's boring tennis tuition, but I don't think I'm fully tuned to Stan's personality yet so he may come across as bland or OOC. Wow, by itself it seems really short - still, if I hadn't uploaded it people would have asked where it was (lol).