Thankfully Calculus required his utmost attention. This meant he wouldn't have time to think about the breakup that would eventually run through the grape vine. Quite a few different boys, and even some girls had a thing for Wendy, so word of her being available would catch wind fast. The same could be said for Stan, however he didn't know if any girls would be asking him out due to his questioning sexuality; he was sure Wendy would tell her girlfriends, though keep it on the down low.

Stan shook his head. No thinking about it. He snapped out of it and focused on his work once more, finishing with time to spare. After turning his worksheet in to the teacher Stan returned to his seat and took out some left over school work that needed to be done. Time ticked by slowly, giving Stan plenty of opportunity to finish an essay and chapter review sheet. He tucked the work away and relaxed in his seat, taking in his surroundings.

Like usual Cartman had moved his desk next to Kyle in order to belittle and steal answers from, to which Kyle would reply with anger and a huff, all the while trying to adjust his body so the fatass couldn't peek at his paper. The girls were texting while keeping to themselves so as not to raise suspicion for said texting. Jokes and snickers came from the small huddle of boys consisting of Clyde, Token, Craig, Tweek and Jimmy, who had formed a small study group with the teachers permission. He noticed Butters was having trouble with his homework and was obviously debating on weather or not he should ask for help. In the end he got up and went to the teachers desk, looking dejected.

The sound of rough screeching met his ears, the origin being Kenny who was scooting his desk across the floor. He stopped next to Stan and pushed his worksheet to the edge. Pointing to an equation, Kenny asked Stan in his muffled voice if he could help him.

"Sure dude." He leaned over and began to help Kenny, who picked up on Stan's teachings rather quickly. The blond managed to finish his work and turn it in before the class ended, giving him time to return to his seat and pull out a comic. This gave Stan time to himself again, something he didn't exactly want. With all the fucked up things that went on in South Park it was hard to find a sane person to talk to about his problems; usually Chef would be the voice of reason, but that was no longer an option thanks to the Super Adventure Club.

Stan collected his math material and stood from his seat, the bell ringing only seconds later. Hoping second period would brighten his spirits, Stan made a quick pit stop at his locker and dropped his books off, heading to Physical Education. The locker room was still quiet when Stan arrived, Token and Craig the only two there.

Bee lining to his locker and stripping to his boxers, Stan changed into his athletic clothes. He wasn't all that keen on staying in the locker room once Cartman showed up, who liked to twist towels and whip them at people. He didn't want a repeat of the time Cartman nail him in the nuts. So he followed some fellow classmates to the gymnasium and took a seat on the bleachers, his gaze focusing on nothing in particular.

The teacher's whistle caused Stan to snap back to reality, body straightening while roll call took place. They lined up to do their stretches and Stan found himself in the back row, muscles slowly stretching. His body twisted this way and that, joints cracking. "Mm. ." He rolled his neck and shoulders, getting all the kinks out. Now relaxed and ready for action, Stan went to the sidelines and asked the teacher what to do next. With instructions to wait on the other side of the gym Stan jogged over and took a seat on the cold ground, joining a few other classmates.

"Hey." Craig was the first and only one to greet him, mostly because they were within close proximity.

"Hey." Stan crossed his legs and leaned back on his hands, getting comfortable. "Know what we're doing?" He knew they were being divided into teams but he wasn't sure what the reason was.

"I think it might be dodge-ball today." Craig pointed to a large rubber ball tucked away near the bleachers.

"Oh." Stan tilted his head backwards in order to get a good look of the colorful rubber ball. "Weak." He lifted his head and occupied his vision elsewhere, eventually landing on Craig. Even with his athletic clothes present Craig still wore his ski hat, dark locks poking out of the brim and flipping upward; Stan would bet dollars to donuts that Craig was sporting some kind of bed head, not that he was one to point fingers considering he himself didn't actually brush his hair that morning.

As if he could feel the stare burning into him Craig turned his head and made eye contact with Stan, brow raising after a beat of silence. "What?"

Stan didn't know what to say at first, the silence lasting another second before he finally responded. "What?"

"What were you looking at?"

Stan simply shrugged and replied with a growing smirk. "I dunno, your stupid face?" He laughed as he ripped on the other, which earned him the bird from Craig. This only fueled Stan's amusement, laughter lasting a few more seconds.

Stan's mirth came to a sudden halt when the whistle blew sharply, echoing ominously in the gymnasium. Reluctantly the students lined up and teams were chosen promptly.

"You assholes better prepare yourselves for my sweet moves!" Cartman landed himself a spot on the other side of the gym, opposite Stan, Kyle and Kenny.

"Your fat ass doesn't have any sweet moves!" Kyle retorted with a roll of his eyes.

Stan maneuvered to the back of the gym, standing behind several other students so they would get hit first. It appeared that Craig had the same idea, for he was already standing in the rear. Without much thought to it Stan stood next to Craig, keeping silent while the game began.

WHACK!

Stan pinched the bridge of his nose."God I hate this game." The opposing team had only whipped the ball across the court once so far and the result landed Red a blood nose. It didn't stop there however. Stan watched the ball zip around like a pinball, taking out Butter's and Kenny; it missed Kyle by a few centimeters.

Red got to her feet, tears falling as she held onto her nose with both hands, the teacher escorting her out pronto. Stan took this opportunity to escape. "Dude this sucks, I'm going outside." It might be cold but he'd rather freeze his ass off than get injured. Obviously feeling the same way many of the other kids followed Stan, breaking off into their own little groups to do what they pleased.

Kyle and Kenny joined Stan, who just noticed Craig was still standing near him. Assuming Craig had nowhere to be, he invited the other to join them in a snowball fight, one that simply consisted of pelting Cartman with snow balls.

"Okay." Craig followed the group to a makeshift snow fort that had been previously built by someone else. The four of them packed ball after ball, stacking them high off the ground. Stan and Kyle took extra time to scoop up hard snow, creating snow balls that teetered towards being balls of ice.

"Get ready." Kyle could see Cartman trudging through the knee deep snow, and with his signal they all lifted from the fort and began slinging snowballs towards Eric, his screams and curses encouraging them to throw more.

"You guys! I'm seriously!" Cartman fell over and into the snow, his crawls doing him no favors in an attempt to escape. "You're gonna get it! You hear me!?" Slipping and sliding through the cold, Cartman managed to get onto his feet and stumble back inside the High School, profanity rushing from his mouth like a waterfall.

With their victory at hand the four teens howled with laughter, Cartman's pissed off mug still etched in their minds.

"Dude that was awesome." Stan plucked his wet gloves off and stuffed them inside his coat, wringing his hands to warm them up.

"I wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of Cartman's revenge though." Craig glanced over at the entrance Cartman disappeared through and began wringing his own cold mitts.

Wind began whipping at their red faces, temperature lowering as snow began falling from the sky. Kenny spoke from behind his hood and waved them off, heading back inside.

"See ya." Kyle and Stan waved back before heading to another part of the School grounds, Craig following. Soon the trio came across the rest of the class, snow men and snow angels spread out on the field.

"Hey look, no one's taken the sleds." Craig pointed a cold shaky hand towards the cheap hunk of wood and metal that leaned against the School's brick wall.

They walked up to the sleds and quickly found out why no one was using them. Covered in ice and snow, it took Craig and Kyle a good few yanks to pry them from the wall.

"Whoa dude, I dunno if we should be using these." Kyle let the sled fall to the ground and took note of how easily it slid over the snow. "Could be dangerous."

Thinking the same thing, both Stan and Craig replied with little worry for their safety, voices echoing together. "Pussy." They laughed, Stan picking up the icy sled Kyle dropped.

"Don't call me a pussy you fudge packers." Kyle replied with a huff, scowling for a moment or so.

The two stopped laughing, though there was still a small smile on Stan's face. Already in better spirits, Stan turned to Craig and challenged him to a round of sled surfing, to which Craig shrugged.

"Okay." The two made their way uphill and stopped at the top, wind picking up and whipping their hair around, hats nearly flying off.

"Dude, this really could be dangerous." Stan gazed down the steep hill for a moment before looking at Craig. "Wanna make it interesting?"

Craig rose a brow. "Like how?"

"First one to the bottom wins and has to buy the other whatever they want for lunch." Stan plopped the sled on the ground and propped his boot on the icy surface.

"You're on." He tossed the sled onto the snow and stomped on the wood, ready whenever Stan was.

"Ready? Go!"

Both boys kicked off the ground and began sliding down the hill. The slippery surface of each sled seemed to worsen as they gained speed, the runners teetering greatly. Stan was the first to wipe out. His sled swirled out of control an flipped over, he landed face first in the cold snow, body rolling a few feet down the hill. Craig followed soon after, his feet losing grip on the icy wood which caused him to fall backwards and onto the snow.

"Ow, God damn it!" Snow had made it's way into Stan's pants and up his shirt, coat riding up. Scrambling to his feet, Stan saw Craig had abandoned his fallen hat in favor of finishing the race, running down the hill.

"Ha! I won!" Craig turned on the spot, a look of smug triumph on his face.

"You didn't win with the sled, that doesn't count!" Stan shouted, making his way down the hill, all the while brushing snow off his person.

"You said whoever gets to the bottom first wins." Craig pointed an accusing finger at the other, scowling.

Stan thought for a moment, then muttered "Damn it."

"Ha! Loopole bitch!" Craig's scowl turned into a smirk. Stan picked up the ski cap Craig lost during the race and handed it back to him after sneaking some snow inside it. This went unnoticed by Craig and when he stuffed the hat back on he yelped and tore it back off. "You butthole!" Using his height to overpower Stan, Craig pressed his hands against Stan's face and pushed him backwards into the cold snow. "See you at lunch." Craig huffed softly and turned away, walking back inside.

Stan snickered to himself and crawled out of the snow, feeling much better compared to this morning. Like everyone else in class he headed back inside, the temperature differing greatly. The color in Stan's cheeks, nose and ears remained bright well into third period, goo dripping from his nostrils and causing him to sniffle several times through the teachers lecture. Many others were like him, creating an orchestra of sniffs and honks, tissues crowding desks.

Behind Stan sat Craig, who tossed a piece of crumpled up paper onto Stan's desk in the middle of class. Stan unraveled it and was puzzled when all the note contained was a number. He scribbled down a response and folded it in half, then passed it back to Craig, who replied instantly. With another toss the note landed back in Stan's possession with said boy smoothing it out once more.

What's this number?

How much my lunch is gonna be lol

Stan rolled his eyes and stuffed the note into a random spot in his notebook, hiding it from the teachers hawk like gaze. Now that lunch was on his mind however, Stan began to lose focus in class, stomach soon growling. Thankfully he didn't have to wait too long for the lunch bell to ring. Packing up his stuff with the rest of his class Stan made his way into the cramped hallway and over to his locker, opening it and dispensing his things inside. He snatched his wallet from a pocket on his backpack and slipped it inside his jacket.

As he closed his locker door Craig came walking up to him, ready for lunch as well. They made their way to the lunch room and stood in line, hands stuffed in pockets to keep warm. The two made small talk while they waited, line moving every few minutes. Eventually they made it to the food and they picked out what they wanted. Stan chose the standard lunch, his own food budget lowered due to Craig's excessive purchase.

"Geez Craig you're gonna get as fat as Cartman with all that food." Stan took a seat with his trey, mouth watering at the fried chicken and french fries that sat on Craig's plate.

"You're just mad I won the race." Craig let the insult roll off his back as he opened his can of soda, drinking deeply from it. "Don't be such a sore loser."

Stan frowned but said nothing about it, beginning to eat his meatloaf and mixed vegetables. The table began to fill up and the volume rose to an all time high when Jimmy began telling an onslaught of new jokes. Roars of laughter echoed through the lunch room, milk shooting out of Cartman's nose. Joining the noise by growling softly, Stan rubbed at his still hungry stomach, his small lunch obviously not satisfying him.

Suddenly and without asking Stan reached over and took a few fries from Craig's plate and stuffed them in his mouth, the action causing Craig to shift his gaze to Stan and silently stare at him. They made eye contact and Stan froze for a second before Stan finished the greasy potatoes while staring straight into Craig's blue eyes.

"What?" Stan suddenly asked, wiping his fingers off on his pants.

Craig said nothing and turned his attention back to the rest of the table, fingers picking at his meal. His cat like reflexes were in need however when he spotted Stan attempting to steal from his plate once more and he was forced to slap the boys hand away; this caused the rest of the table occupants to stop what they were doing and turn their attention to Stan and Craig.

"Haha! Stan got bitch slapped by Craig." Cartman was the first to break the silence, eager to see if things would escalate.

"What did I just say Stan? Don't be a sore loser." Craig picked up a fry and ate it as he spoke to Stan, enjoying the food and egging Stan on subtly.

Stan frowned and looked around the table, eyes landing on Butter's lunch. He plucked some chicken off the blonde's tray and began eating it without hesitation.

"Hey!" Butter's didn't make a grab for the stolen food but he looked awful sore that he was Stan's next victim.

"Sorry Butter's but Craig's being a fatass, hope you understand." Stan finished the tender off and stood from the table, lunch tray in hand. "See you guys in class." He walked away and tossed his trash into a large bin and left the lunch room, feet bringing him back to his locker.

"Hey dude." Kyle had appeared next to him, standing at his own locker.

"Hey." Stan grabbed a small paperback from inside his locker and shut it, ready for fourth period.

Kyle grabbed the same book from his own locker and began walking to their drama class. "Did you figure out what you're gonna sign up for in class?" Personally Kyle wanted to do stage sets or props.

"Eh, I dunno dude. I guess lighting doesn't sound that stupid." Stan opened the door and entered the large auditorium. Both he and Kyle took a seat and waited for class to start, phones out and Youtube open. One by one other kids began filing inside the auditorium and taking their respected seats, theater director taking roll call a few minutes after the bell rang.

"All right students I'm going to have you write your name on this sheet of paper. Just sign next to the position you want to have for the play and we'll get started for the semester." The director passed the sheet around and waited for it to return to him. When everyone was accounted for he broke them up into groups and sent them to different parts of the theater.

Kyle and Cartman were sent to the staging area along with Tweek, Clyde, Token, Wendy and Kevin, their job of the day being to paint over the set from the previous play the school put on. Bebe, Red, Heidi, Nichole, Kenny, Jimmy and Butters were sent to wardrobe and make up, their task at hand involving a large messy room full of props and costumes. Stan and Craig were sent to the sound and light booth, director instructing them to read the entire manual for both the sound and lighting boards.

". . .This sucks balls dude." Stan and Craig had opened the door to the lighting and sound booth to find a stale smell waiting for them, flickering bulb and several inches of dust covering the room. On a nearby shelf they spotted two thick manuals, and upon further inspection they found that they were in fact the material that needed to be studied.

Craig snagged the seat behind the sound board and opened the old manual. The spine creaked as he flipped through it and before he could finish reading the first page all the papers fell out of the binding. ". .Fuck!"

Stan laughed from his own seat, manual sitting in his lap. The look of rage that formed on Craig's face only fueled Stan's laughter and he nearly fell over and off the stool he sat in. Without a word or warning Craig reached over and swiped the manual from Stan's lap and threw it across the room, shattering the relic. Brown eyes stared in horror as paper rained down and covered the floor, leaving them both screwed. "Dude . . not cool." Stan frowned, but found he couldn't care less about the manual.

"Whatever man." Craig turned towards the sound board and stared down at it. "We'll just have to learn by pressing buttons." He searched the board and flipped what he assumed to be the power button. Stan did the same and powered up the lighting board, turning on several different lights above the stage for the set designers.

With not much else to do Stan and Craig spent the rest of class collecting the scattered pages and stuffing them back on the dusty shelf, goofing off on their phones afterwards. Just as Stan was about to change the video he was watching his line of vision picked up the image of Craig's hand holding out a packaged muffin, the very one Stan had bought Craig during lunch.

"What this for?" Stan asked, taking the baked good without hesitation.

"I got full at lunch and you left the table before I could give it to you." It was as simple as that. Craig would have given it to Stan earlier but the manual incident put him in a temporary sour mood.

"Oh, well thanks dude." Stan smiled as he ripped open the package and he devoured it during the last few minutes of class.

When the last class of the day rolled around Stan couldn't wait for it to just end, the events of the day having worn him out. They were told to read Chapter 5 and complete the three page worksheet that went along with it, which meant Stan could go at his own pace rather than pay attention and take notes. Thankful that it was Friday Stan decided to finish the work over the weekend. He tucked the worksheet inside his Chemistry book and collected his things, leaving class when the final bell rang.

Once at his locker Stan began getting ready for the trip home, stuffing his backpack with any necessary books and folders. He slung the bag over his shoulder and waited for his friends to finish their business at their own lockers.

Within the crowed of people Token could be seen shuffling from person to person, a stack of envelopes in his hands. He walked up to Stan and Kyle and handed both of them a wrinkle free envelope, Cartman and Kenny receiving one as well. "Hey guys, I'm having a party tomorrow night, you don't wanna miss it." He had something pretty special planned. Without any other information he left them in favor of handing out the rest of his invitations.

The boys tore open the envelopes they were given and found that it was an invitation to a Murder Mystery party. Token's parents would be gone so a list of alcohol and food was present on the card, along with a dress code and list of rules, the first being no breaking character. There also happened to be a P.S at the bottom warning everyone not to break any valuables.

"Hey this sounds pretty fun." Kyle was already looking forward to going. He stuffed the invitation inside his backpack and started heading to the bus stop, friends in tow.

They filed onto the bus and sat down where they could find room, Kyle sitting next to Kenny while Stan found a seat for himself all the way in the back. He wasn't alone for long though, Wendy had boarded the bus and made her way to the back, seating herself next to Stan when no other options became available.

"Hey Wendy." Stan moved his pack for her, giving her more room to work with.

Wendy seated herself with a smile, greeting Stan quietly. "Hey Stan, how was your day?"

Stan shrugged and told her about his day, reporting that nothing special had really happened. She spoke of her own day and Stan found himself laughing when Wendy told him about Butters getting knocked over by a box of costumes during theater class. The two conversed some more and even made plans to study later after dinner, something Kyle found odd. Wendy waved goodbye to her friends and lifted herself from her seat, exiting the buss and heading up her snowy driveway. Kyle took this opportunity to sit down next to Stan and rose a brow.

"Did you change your mind about Wendy dude? How come you're making plans to study with her?" In Kyle's mind study meant more than just school work.

"What? No dude I told you we're just friends now. We're just gonna help each other with our school work that's all." Stan didn't see what the big deal was.

"Oh. Okay." Kyle let it go for a moment before continuing. "It's just-it's a little soon for ex's to hang out. You sure you're not gonna take her back, or whatever it is you guys do?" The details of Stan's dating life weren't all that clear to Kyle, so he simply assumed this was just how Stan and Wendy rolled.

Stan snorted and rolled his eyes. "No dude. We're just friends." He wondered for a brief moment how many times he would have to clarify this to people in the near future. He then wondered if he should tell Kyle his secret, the reason he broke up with Wendy. Eh, some other time. "Anyway dude I'll see you later." He exited the bus when it came to his stop and he headed inside his home.

Old but still full of spunk, Sparky barked when his master opened the door, tail wagging. Stan smiled and gave his dog love while he kicked his shoes off. "Who's a good boy Sparky?" Stan shuffled his tired feet to the kitchen and fed Sparky a treat, then fixed himself something small. He spent a good hour in front of the television relaxing, a nap next on his list.

Turning the flat screen off with a yawn and a stretch, Stan headed up the stairs and into his bedroom. Over the years his room had gone through only a few decorative changes. His bed had gotten an upgrade and posters covered his walls. His chest of toys had been tucked away in the attic and in their place stood a chest full of comics and weapons, ones he used when playing with his friends. Stan closed his door and plopped down on his bed with a sigh. He unzipped his coat and tossed his hat on the floor, slipping under the sheet and blanket after. He stretched and rolled around, getting comfortable. When he finally found the mattress' sweet spot Stan set an alarm and closed his eyes, relaxing further.

Sparky climbed onto the bed and curled up next to Stan, reassuring his owner that he'd have company during his napping session. Stan gave his dog a light scratch behind the ear, glad for the company. He turned over and almost instantly fell asleep, ghost of a smile still present.