So, guess what today is? It's my birthday! And we just got our first snowfall of the season. So as my birthday present to myself, I'm updating this story. No, jk, I just happened to get it done last night. Anyways, this chapter's a bit shorter than the rest, so, sorry about that. And it feels a bit like a filler chapter to me. But the title and story description are finally relevant to the story!

I don't own South Park. Review?

Beside Me in the Morning

Chapter 6: That is WAY too much pressure!

Cartman was cold when he woke up in the morning. Which was to be expected, considering he was in his basement, in January, in the nude. Though it would have been considerably less cold, he thought, had he not woken up alone. He groaned, wrenching his eyes open. It was dark. He fumbled blindly for a blanket, but by the time he located one bunched up at his feet and pulled it over his bare torso, he was too wide awake to fall back asleep.

"Wendy?" he mumbled, sitting up on the couch.

After locating a box of matches on the end table beside the couch, he lit a kerosene lamp, flooding the basement with light. He glanced around the room and sighed. Wendy was gone. In fact, there was no sign that she had been there at all, aside from the fact that he was naked.

Maybe it was stupid that he'd expected her to be there was he woke up, curled up in his arms. She was in love with Stan, after all, not him. In hindsight, perhaps sleeping with her was not the best decision. But hell, he was only human. A beautiful girl, a girl he happened to be in love with, showed up in his basement and started stripping off his clothes, something that had certainly never happened to him and something he could not expect to happen ever again. What was he supposed to do? Tell her no?

But waking up alone—that was the worst. It served as a cold reminder that Wendy did not feel the same way about him that he did about her.

"Wends, are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Kyle," Wendy snapped, tearing through her locker for her purple pen. The damned thing was nowhere to be found. "Why wouldn't I be fine?"

She was the opposite of fine.

Kyle ran a hand through his curls nervously. "You don't seem fine."

"Well I am. I'm fucking peachy. I couldn't be better. God, where the fuck is my pen?"

Her locker ate it, she decided. It was the fourth purple pen she'd bought that year, and it was only January. The only conclusion she could come to was that her locker fucking ate pens.

Kyle rolled his eyes, offering his own pen to his friend.

Wendy stared down at it. "That pen is red, Kyle."

"Um…I'm aware of that."

"I can't write in red ink. Red ink looks angry on the page. That's why I write in purple. Purple is a friendly color."

Kyle arched an eyebrow. "A friendly color? Do your history notes really have to be friendly?"

"Argh!" Wendy cried, slamming her locker door shut. "It's not in there!"

Kyle rested a hand on her shoulder. "Wendy, call me crazy, but I feel like this is about more than just your pen."

"Oh, you're so fucking perceptive, Broflovski."

She mentally scolded herself. Why was she taking this out on Kyle? It wasn't Kyle's fault her locker ate another purple pen. And it certainly wasn't Kyle's fault she slept with Cartman. But, being the understanding friend that he was, Kyle didn't seem to mind.

"So?" he prodded, tugging on her sleeve, urging her to join him as he slid to the hallway floor. "What's going on?"

Wendy sighed, taking a seat beside him. "You don't need me unloading all my problems onto you," she mumbled, resting her head on Kyle's shoulder.

"Hey, you've gotta unload them onto someone," Kyle replied, taking her hand and stroking his thumb across her knuckles. He must have known how much this gesture comforted her. "And seeing as I'm the closest thing you have to a girl friend…"

This earned a smile from Wendy. "You're so not girly, Kyle. You may be the gayest friend I have, but you're not the girliest."

"You're right. That's Stan."

"Definitely Stan," Wendy agreed, her smile fading. "He told Bebe he loves her," she blurted.

"He told me," Kyle replied, squeezing Wendy's hand. "No wonder you're upset. How did you find out?"

Wendy rocked her head against Kyle's shoulder. "Never mind that. It's not really what I'm upset about anyways."

"What then?"

"Well," Wendy began. "Afterwards, I went to Cartman's…"

"Oh, god, what the hell did he do to you?"

"No, Kyle, he didn't…"

"If he hurt you, I swear to god, I'll kiss his fat ass."

"He didn't do anything, Kyle."

"Oh," Kyle muttered, his tight grip on her hand loosening considerably. "What happened then?"

Wendy bit her lip. "You have to promise not to tell Stan."

"I promise. Just tell me what happened."

"Or anyone else, for that matter. Especially Kenny."

"For god's sake, I won't tell Kenny."

"And promise you won't overreact."

"When have I ever overreacted about anything?"

"Kyle…"

"Okay, okay. I won't freak out. Now, what's going on?"

"Okay," Wendy murmured. "Well, last night…"

"Jesus Christ," a voice from above them cut her off. "Are you two cuddling again? And you wonder why people think you're hooking up."

"Fuck off, fatass," Kyle growled. "We're talking."

Cartman rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Wendy, you left this in my basement."

He produced a purple ballpoint pen from his jacket pocket and tossed it into Wendy's lap.

"What do you know?" Kyle mumbled.

"Thanks," Wendy murmured, grabbing the pen with her free hand.

"Now get lost, Cartman. We're trying to..."

"Um, actually, Kyle," Wendy cut him off. "Can I talk to Eric alone for a minute?"

"Eric?" Kyle repeated, staring at her incredulously. She replied with a meaningful look, and he nodded, squeezing her hand momentarily. "All right then. She you later then, Wends." He dropped her hand and rose to his feet. "And that offer still stands, if you want me to kick his ass later."

"That's very sweet of you, Kahl, but I'm sure it won't be necessary," Cartman replied airily. "Or possible, since I'm tougher that you anyways."

Kyle rolled his eyes, slamming roughly into Cartman's side as he walked away, not even bothering to pass it off as an accident. Cartman stuffed his hands into his pockets.

"Goddamn Jew."

"Eric," Wendy said, pushing herself up to her feet.

"I told you not to call me that."

"…Cartman."

"Better."

"Cartman, um… How are you?"

Cartman scratched his neck awkwardly. "Um…fine. How are you?"

"Good," Wendy lied, running a hand through her hair and wincing as she caught a tangle. "I'm great."

"Right," Cartman mumbled, glancing nervously around the hallway. "Um, Wendy." He took a cautious step forward and took hold of Wendy's hands. "About last night. It was…"

"A mistake," Wendy cut him off.

Cartman dropped her hands. "A mistake," he agreed. "Exactly. That's what I was gonna say."

"Right. So if you could just not mention it to Stan…like, ever?"

"Of course not," Cartman mumbled.

Wendy let out a sigh of relief. "Thanks, Cartman."

"No problem," Cartman replied. "I mean, I wouldn't want Stan to know what a desperate slut you really are."

"What the fuck, Cartman?"

"I just tell it like it is, ho."

"I just couldn't do it, Clyde," Bebe murmured into her friend's t-shirt. "I tried, but he was just so pathetic and adorable."

"You have to break up with him sooner or later, Bee," Clyde responded, patting her shoulder comfortingly with his good hand.

"I pick later."

"Okay. Your choice."

"What? You're supposed to tell me that I should get it over with now."

Clyde shrugged. "I'm not gonna tell you what to do. Anyways, maybe if you wait it out a while, he'll realize it's not really working."

Bebe groaned. "Don't even try that reverse psychology crap on me, Clyde. It won't work. I'm not Laura Ingalls."

"Bee, I don't even know what reverse psychology is."

"I know you're just telling me to do the wrong thing so I'll disagree with you and do the right thing."

Clyde frowned. "So you're just gonna disagree with whatever I say?"

"Only because you want me to."

"Why would I want you to disagree with me?"

"Because you want me to think I figured it out all on my own."

"Figured what out all on your own?"

"That I have to break up with Stan now, or else everyone's gonna be even worse off in the end."

"But I thought you said you weren't ready to break up with Stan."

"And you're just trying to make me realize that the longer I put it off, the harder it's gonna be."

"Okay, you lost me, Bebe."

Bebe sighed. "You're right. I need to break up with him today."

Clyde scratched his head. "Um…okay."

"Thanks for helping me figure it out."

"You're welcome?"

After knowing him practically his entire life, Cartman thought he'd be used to Kenny by now. But when he joined the blond at their usual table for lunch, Kenny managed to surprise him with an unusual greeting.

"You had sex last night."

Cartman's eyes grew wide. "Were you spying on me? You pervert."

"Sick, dude. I wasn't spying on you."

"Then how did you…?"

"You look like sex," Kenny cut him off. "You're talking to South Park's resident sexpert. I know when someone's had sex, especially for the first time." Cartman gaped as Kenny continued. "Dude, I can practically smell sex on your breath. My sexdar is 20/20. I'm never wrong about this."

"Okay, god," Cartman replied. "You've made your point. Now will you stop saying…it?" He felt like every eye in the cafeteria was on them.

"Fine. Prude. So…who's the poor girl you took advantage of, huh?"

Cartman's stomach twisted in knots. "Don't say 'took advantage', Kenny."

Kenny grinned. "Guilty conscience. So this was revenge sex? Very hot."

Cartman shook his head. "For once, Kenny, you have no idea what you're talking about."

The blond teenager stared at Cartman, studying his face. He furrowed his brow and locked his blue eyes on Cartman's brown ones, as if trying to pull information straight out of the bigger boy's brain through the flecks of gold and green in his irises. Finally, he spoke. "This is more complicated than I thought."

"No shit."

"So? Who was it?"

"None of your business."

Kenny smirked. "It was Abby Turnerstein, right?"

Cartman groaned. "Why did I even tell you about that? I knew you were gonna rip on me for it every chance you got."

Kenny tore his eyes from Cartman to greet the boy taking a seat beside the blond.

"Hey, Stan."

"Hey, Kenny. Cartman."

Cartman grunted in reply, refusing to look at Stan. This did not go unnoticed by Kenny, but for Cartman's sake, South Park's resident sexpert decided not to comment. That is, until a fourth teenager approached their table.

Wendy glanced nervously at Cartman before taking a seat beside him and across from Stan. "Hey guys," she greeted them. "Hi, Stan." Wendy reached across the table for a napkin, taking careful measures not to brush up against Cartman as she did so. She looked up at him momentarily, and their eyes met for a split second before Wendy turned away, blushing.

"Oh my god!"

Wendy's head snapped up to look at Kenny. "What?" she blurted.

"Yeah, what Kenny?" Stan asked.

Cartman groaned. Of course this…sexdar thing, or whatever Kenny called it, worked on Wendy too. He was bound to figure it out.

"Nothing," Cartman replied, looking at Kenny pointedly as if to say, "One word of this to Stan and I'll grind your parents into chili and feed them to you." Kenny just stared at Cartman, dumbstruck.

"Hey guys," Kyle greeted the four of them, taking a seat beside Kenny. "What's going on?"

Kenny rose to his feet. "Cartman," he said. "Hallway. Now." With that, he turned and walked out to the hallway, leaving a dejected-looking Kyle beside his empty seat.

Sighing, Cartman stood and followed the blond out of the cafeteria.

"So, what's up?" he asked, leaning casually against a row of lockers outside the cafeteria doors.

Kenny responded with a hard sock to the shoulder.

"Goddamn it, Kenny!"

"You slept with Wendy?" Kenny replied, a slender hand tangling into his blond locks.

"What do you care? You sleep with anything that walks."

Kenny sighed. "First of all, dumbass, I believe you're thinking of your mother. While my standards are lower than most people's, I do have them."

"Whore."

"And secondly…Wendy? For god's sake, Cartman, could you have picked a girl with more baggage to have a one-night stand with? Was there no other girl fucked in the head enough to want to sleep with you?"

"Kenny, it's not like that. I…"

"You love her," Kenny cut him off. "I know that. But here's the thing. Wendy likes Stan."

"You think I don't know that?"

Kenny shook his head, planting his hands firmly on Cartman's shoulders. "Dude, I'm telling you this as your best friend. You're a fucking idiot."

"Show that the two families of curves are perpendicular to each other. X squared plus y squared equals a times x and x squared plus y squared equals b times y… Okay, so I think we have to find the derivative of each equation and then… Kyle, are you even listening?"

Kyle snapped his attention back toward his best friend, who was glaring irritably at him. "Huh?"

"Dude, I have to get this pre-calc homework done by seventh period. I lose a letter grade if I turn in another assignment late."

"Yeah, I know," Kyle mumbled, his eyes wandering back to the pair sitting at a table across the library from them.

"So why the hell are you watching Cartman and Kenny slack off instead of helping me with this problem?"

"Don't you ever wonder what those two talk about while we're over here studying?"

"That's easy, Kyle. Cartman says, 'Gawd, look at Stan and Kahl, studying together like a couple of queermos,' and then Kenny replies, "Dude, I banged a blonde last night and then I gave her your phone number and promised her I'd call her.'"

Kyle studied the troubled look on Kenny's face as the blond shook his head at Cartman. It certainly didn't look like he was talking about sleeping with some random and sending her away with empty promises and a fake phone number. Although, he had to admit, Stan's impression of Kenny was a little uncanny.

Stan sighed. "If you want to go over there and talk to them so badly, let's just go. But I'm warning you, if I don't finish this assignment in time, it's on you. Which means I will have the right to copy your homework whenever I please."

Kyle rolled his eyes. "If you don't finish your assignment on time, it's your own damn fault. If you'd pay attention in class you'd know how to do the homework."

"Some best friend you are."

Kyle stood up from his seat. "I just want to talk to Kenny for a few minutes. Then I'll help you with the rest of that assignment. Cross my heart."

"Fine," Stan groaned, standing up as well. "Let's go."

The two meandered across the library to Cartman and Kenny's secluded corner, where Kenny was talking to Cartman in a hushed tone.

"…had sex last night," Kyle heard Kenny whisper. "I still can't believe it. How many people do you think she's told?"

"No one," Cartman replied. "Except maybe…" He spotted the pair walking toward them. "Kahl, Stan, shouldn't you fags be over at your own table studying together like a couple of queermos?"

Stan sent Kyle an I-told-you-so look as the redhead took a seat across from Kenny.

"Who had sex last night?" Kyle asked.

Cartman shot Kenny a desperate glance, and the blond spoke up quickly. "Um, I did."

Stan rolled his eyes. "Color me surprised."

"With who?" Kyle asked, trying to hide the resentment in his voice.

"Um…" Kenny glanced around the library and pointed at a redhead strolling out the door. "Her. Or at least someone who looked like her. She was definitely a redhead."

"Good lord," Stan mumbled under his breath.

"Say what you want about gingers," Kenny went on. "But one thing's for sure. They are feisty in bed. Am I right, Kyle?"

"Fuck off," Kyle replied.

"So, Cartman," Stan said, leaning across the table to address the hefty teen. "Did you get the pre-calc homework?"

Cartman snorted. "Hell no. I always get Butters to do mine for me. He's really cheap, too. I pay him in Milk Duds."

Stan frowned. "Dude, that's totally wrong."

"Hey, he's lucky I give him anything at all."

"It's still not right to use a friend like that, Cartman," Stan replied. "So, does he really do your homework in exchange for candy? Would he do it for Tic-Tacs, because I think I have a full container in my locker?"

"Wanna go ask him? I think he's in the computer lab right now."

Stan hopped out of his seat. "Yeah, dude. Let's go."

Kenny watched the two of them as they made their way to the door. Kyle watched Kenny watch the two of them.

"Oh my fucking god," Kenny hissed, leaning across the table to talk to Kyle as soon as Stan and Cartman were out of earshot.

"What?" Kyle responded.

"Cartman fucked Wendy!"

"What?"

"Cartman had sex with Wendy last night," Kenny repeated, leaning in closer to Kyle.

Kyle's jaw dropped. "Wendy and…Cartman?"

"I know, right?"

Kyle shook his head, jumping to his feet. "I'll fucking kill him."

Kenny made a grab for Kyle's hand. "Sit down, Kyle. He didn't do anything wrong."

"This is Cartman we're talking about. He's always done something wrong."

"Well not this time, okay? If you have to kill Cartman for having sex, then you have to kill me, like…a bunch of times."

Kyle sighed, slumping back down in his seat. "But…it's Wendy. She's like a sister to me. How would you feel if Cartman fucked your sister?"

"Okay, first of all, my sister's thirteen. And Cartman's not in love with my sister."

"I know. It's just…" Kyle tugged a hand through his curls. "I just don't want her getting hurt."

"And I don't want him getting hurt. But at this point, I think it's kind of inevitable."

Kyle licked his lips. "So… Does this mean you were lying about sleeping with some girl last night?"

"Dude, I was at your house last night."

"Oh," Kyle muttered. "Oh yeah."

"Although, your mom is a redhead…"

"Kenny McCormick, you better shut your goddamn mouth."

As he made his way to the front door after school, Craig stopped in his tracks when he spotted a melancholy Wendy Testaburger staring glumly into her locker. He watched her for a moment, debating whether to go talk to her or just walk on past. In the end, he sauntered over to her side.

"Hey, Wendy. What's up?"

"Huh? Oh. Hi, Craig. Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"Well, something. But it's…nothing."

"Are you sure?"

Wendy nodded. "I'm sure."

"Because if this is about Stan, Clyde told me that Bebe's planning to break up with him."

Wendy looked up, her eyes meeting Craig's for the first time. "Really?"

"Yeah. Chin up, kid. Everything's gonna work out."

Wendy smiled weakly. "I hope so."

Craig's frowned deepened. The smile on Wendy's face only seemed to make her look sadder.

"This isn't about Stan, is it?"

Wendy returned her gaze to her open locker. "Not really."

"You wanna talk about it?"

Wendy shook her head.

"Well, you want, like, a hug or something?"

Craig wasn't really the hugging type, but he was in a generous mood, considering what Clyde had told him about this morning's conversation with Bebe, so he figured he could give it a try to help out an almost-friend type person.

Wendy stared back up at him, her eyes wide with emotion.

"A hug would be nice."

Craig opened his arms hesitantly, and Wendy collapsed into them, shaking with sobs.

"W-woah, there," Craig stammered, his hands finding Wendy's back and patting it awkwardly. "Don't cry."

"I'm sorry," Wendy choked out. "It's just been a bad day, I guess."

"Um…there, there," Craig soothed. At least, he was attempting to soothe her, although he wasn't sure how soothing he actually was. He just stood there stiffly, rubbing her back robotically as she cried into his shoulder. "You can, uh, tell me about it. If you want."

"I just did something really stupid that I wish I could take back."

"We've all been there, I guess."

"I really should be running into the arms of guys I don't like when I'm upset."

Craig wrinkled his forehead. He was pretty sure she'd just told him she didn't like him, which he thought was kind of uncalled for, considering he was going far out of his comfort zone by holding her and letting her cry into his shoulder. But, she was distraught, after all, so he'd let that one slide.

As he gradually loosened up and tightened his grip on her, rubbing small circles into the small of her back as she cried, her erratic breathing slowed and her sobs transformed into soft hiccups.

"If you need someone to talk to, like, a girl, I bet Bebe would be there for you in a heartbeat," Craig offered. "She's better at this kind of thing than I am."

Wendy shook her head, burying her face deeper in the folds of his t-shirt. "You're doing just fine, Craig."

"Stan!" Bebe called, flagging down her boyfriend in the crowded hallway.

Stan glanced over at her and muttered something to Kyle before jogging up to her side.

"What's up?"

"Hi, Stan," Bebe greeted him, wringing her hands nervously.

This didn't go unnoticed by Stan.

"Everything okay?" he asked, seizing both of her hands in his.

Bebe licked her lips. "Uh, yeah. At least it will be."

"What's going on?"

Bebe sighed. "Stan, listen. You're a great guy…"

"God, I don't like the sound of this."

"And being with you has been great," Bebe went on.

"But?"

Her eyes met his. "Stan, I…"

Her voice trailed off as she glanced over her boyfriend's shoulder. Her frown deepened at the sight. There was Craig, standing at Wendy's locker and holding the girl in his arms like he never wanted to let her go. Bebe tried to dismiss the sting in her chest, and told herself that it was definitely not a pang of jealousy. But when Craig's eyes met hers, his expression blank, she had to tear her eyes away from the scene.

"Bebe?" Stan said nervously.

And before she even had time to stop herself, she tugged her boyfriend down by the collar and pulled him into a searing kiss.

I really feel like I need to do more with Stan in this story. He just seems really two-dimensional to me. And Bebe sort of gets on my nerves in this chapter, which I didn't really intend. Meh, anyways, what'd you think?