Seven and a Half Months…

Stan sighed and put the clipboard with his University of Texas application on it on the bench beside him, between him and Clyde. He hated that everyone on the football team was required to apply to a major university their senior year, it wasn't like he thought he'd get accepted. Besides, even if he did, he wouldn't be able to go. But both he and Clyde decided that it would be best to get it out of the way before practice with the new freshman team began. It was their job as the two top players on the varsity team to train the freshman during football conditioning and neither of them were enjoying it. Half of the freshman team couldn't play worth a damn; it annoyed them both to no end.

"It'll be amazing if they get to the playoffs for state," Clyde commented as he finished filling out his application to Georgia Tech.

"No kidding." Stan ran one hand through his hair. "This school's reputation is gonna go straight downhill."

"No argument there." Clyde set his applications on top of Stan's with a sigh. "It's kind of depressing that after this year, we won't be coming back to this locker room."

"Yeah, kinda…" Stan looked around. Concrete floors, green and black half-lockers, and open wooden cubbies for clothes and uniforms, each with a name sticker above them. "At least you'll be able to go to where you're applying though." He glanced over at his friend. "I'm stuck in South Park."

"No necessarily." Clyde shrugged. "You and Kyle could decide to move one day. I'll actually be surprised if you guys stay here."

"That is true. Hmm…" Stan began thinking. He highly doubted Kyle would be up for moving right after graduation, but Clyde was right, they could still decide to move later on. That was something he was going to look forward to even more than turning twenty-one now - though he already drank, so twenty-one wasn't exactly something was looking forward to anyway.

Clyde stood up with a grunt and reached into the cubby that said "C. Donovan" above it for his padding and green Cows jersey. "Come on, we've gotta get out to the field and try to train those damned freshman."

With a short, barking laugh, Stan stood up and reached for his jersey and padding also. "Love that you use the qualifier, 'try.'"

"You know it's true."

"It is."

…

Kyle, in the baggy Gir shirt Stan bought for him a while back and a pair of black sweatpants cut to be shorts, groaned and threw a box of Fruit Loops into the metal cart he was pushing. "I hate grocery shopping," he muttered. Beside him, Bebe, in a red tank top and khaki short shorts, chuckled. "What?"

"Calm down," she said with a wave of her hand, "you're mostly done." She marked off where Stan had scrawled down "Fruit Loops." "You just need to get milk, orange juice, chips, and, um," she showed the list to Kyle, "I can't read what Stan wrote here."

Kyle stopped and peered at the list with narrowed eyes. What did Stan write? He grabbed the piece of paper and looked at it closer for a minute more before turning bright red. "Hand me the pen." He took the pen when Bebe handed it to him and scratched off the final thing written down. "I'll just get that later…much later."

"What was it?" She asked as she tried to see past the defined scratch marks Kyle had inflicted on the paper with the black pen.

"Nothing," he sighed. He continued pushing the cart along. "What's the next thing on the list? Milk?"

"Yeah. Seriously, though, what was it?" She tapped the pen thoughtfully against her bottom lip. "It wasn't a very long word, and you're embarrassed by it…hmm…"

Kyle sighed annoyingly. He really began wishing he'd asked Pip to come along instead; he knew the Brit would've dropped it the moment he blushed. Actually, the only reason he asked Bebe to help him with the grocery shopping was because they normally hung out whenever Stan and Clyde had football practice anyway. "Look, if I promise to tell you in the car, will you drop it?"

She nodded excitedly and smiled. "Of course!"

"Good, then I'll tell you in the car," he groaned. He really didn't want to tell her, but he learned the hard way not to screw around with her and Wendy, he actually learned that lesson in sixth grade by accident.

"So, are you applying to any colleges this year?"

He shook his head, glad for the topic change. "There's no point. Stan's not applying anywhere either."

"Yes he is." Bebe pulled a gallon jug of milk out of one of the freezers. "All seniors on the football team are required to apply to one major university."

"What?" Kyle's eyes widened. "Stan didn't tell me about that!"

"Oh." She covered her mouth with a light blush. "I'm sorry; I thought Stan would've told you."

"No, he didn't." His hands tightened on the bar of the cart, turning his knuckles white.

"Please don't tell him I told you. I really would've never said anything if I'd known he hadn't told you about it yet."

"I won't tell him you told me, but I am going to ask him about it." He reached for the orange juice and dropped it into the cart. "We promised each other that we weren't going to apply for college because we knew that we wouldn't be able to go anyway. It just saves us the disappointment, you know…?"

"…Yeah… I really am sorry for telling you!"

He chuckled and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, holding her to his side in a friendly hug. "It's not a big deal. I'm actually glad you told me. And seriously, don't worry, I won't tell Stan you told me."

"Okay then…if you're sure it's not a big deal…"

"It's not, really." Kyle grabbed three bags of chips and dropped them into the cart along with a jar of Queso. "So, where are you and Clyde going for college?"

"I'm following him to Georgia Tech." Bebe wrapped an arm around her friend's waist. "They actually have a pretty good design program."

"Design, huh? That definitely seems like your forte."

"Thanks." She smiled.

Once they checked out with the few groceries Kyle had bought, they headed for the Chevy Malibu Clyde had left Bebe with to throw the bags into the trunk. They talked mindlessly as they put everything in and as they climbed into the two front seats of the Chevy. With "Something in Your Mouth" by Nickelback blaring through the speakers, Bebe drove the car back in the direction of Kyle and Stan's apartment. Both teens sang along to the rock song, not caring that they were both tone deaf and totally botched it.

Bebe turned the music down as it switched to "Burn it to the Ground" and looked at Kyle from the corner of her eye. "So, what did Stan write down on the list that you refused to get?"

The redhead groaned. He'd really hoped she'd forgotten about that. "If you must know…" He sighed and then mumbled, "Strawberry flavored lube."

Suddenly, the blonde girl began laughing so hard tears were falling down her face. Seriously? Stan actually put that on the grocery list? "Really?"

Kyle turned bright red again. "Yeah…"

"Holy crap!" She laughed even louder as she pulled into a parking space in front of the apartment building. "That's just too great…!"

"Okay, okay," he threw open the door, irritated at Stan for yet another reason now, "you got a laugh out of it," he got to his feet slowly, "now help me carry the groceries in."

"Alright," she laughed. She waved him along after he grabbed all of the light bags, saying that she'd get the rest.

"Look, I'm not useless. I can still help."

"No heavy lifting. Stan would kill me." She grabbed onto the two cases of soda in the trunk. "If you're going to grab anything else, make sure it's light."

Kyle sighed and leaned against the open trunk. He'd taken in everything that was light already, leaving him with nothing to carry. He glanced at the milk and orange juice. Bebe wouldn't consider those heavy, would she? Probably not.

As he was reaching for the two gallon jugs, someone cleared their throat next to him, catching his attention. Kyle froze when he saw Cartman standing there in a black Johnny the Homicidal Maniac t-shirt and a pair of baggy black cargo shorts. What was he doing there? And why did he look like he wanted to strangle the redhead he was glaring at?

"Cartman," Kyle moved so that he could run for the apartment in an instant, "what're you doing here?"

"Well, with Marsh in football practice, you must be all alone." With a smirk twisting his face, Cartman stalked forward towards Kyle. "Besides, think of this as something for the best," he cracked his knuckles, "that thing inside of you is a monster anyway."

Kyle ground his teeth and clenched his fists. "You fat fuck! Do you want to die?"

"Like you'll be able to do shit. You couldn't before, and you definitely can't now."

Dammit, he called my bluff! He backed off a few steps. If he got into with Cartman, he wouldn't stand a chance. He had to get out of that situation, fast.

"Get out of here, fat ass!" Bebe yelled from the door of the apartment. She ran over to Kyle's side. "Or do I have to kick your ass for Kyle here?" She sent a deep, hateful glare at Cartman, she really couldn't figure out why her best friend even considered dating him.

Cartman laughed loudly. "Like you could do anything either, ho!"

"Wendy handed your ass to you on a gold plated, diamond encrusted platter when we were younger," she reminded him, "do you not think I'll be able to do the same?"

He ground his teeth together. Being reminded of his embarrassment in elementary school was like a mental kick to the balls; he wasn't going to just take it. "Fine bitch, let's just find out!" He ran forward with his fist raised to strike.

Determined to beat him to a pulp, Bebe took a few steps forward and caught his fist before plowing her own fist into the side of Cartman's face. He staggered back but before he could recover, she brought her knee up and drove it into his stomach, sending him toppling to the ground with a winded curse. She fell to the ground when her foot was pulled out from under her, responding with a hard, swift kick to Cartman's face. He released her ankle and she scrambled back over to Kyle when she saw Stan's Blazer pull into the parking lot.

Cartman got back to his feet in time to have the open driver's side door of the Blazer slam into his back, sending him back down to the pavement with a loud thud. Stan slammed the door shut once he saw Cartman on the ground and smoothly pulled into his parking space before jumping out of the car cracking his knuckles.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing here, fat ass?" Stan demanded as he watched his former friend stagger back to his feet.

Cartman spat blood onto the pavement next to him and sent a hard glare at Stan. "Just trying to get your damned child out of the stomach of the man I claimed."

Kyle's eyes widened. Shit! Cartman had to bring that up now? He reached into his pocket and pulled out his pocket knife. He had to shut the fat ass up before he continued.

"You claimed?" Stan scoffed. "You two never had anything between you, and you both know it!"

"He never told you then?" Cartman smirked. "About our little trip to Denver freshman year?"

"What about it?"

"We–shit!" Cartman gripped onto his arm as Kyle's pocket knife, which the redhead had thrown at him, became implanted there. "You fucking Jew rat!"

"Get out of here!" Kyle screamed. "I can do a lot worse!"

Grinding his teeth together, Cartman pulled the knife out of his arm and then turned to leave. If they were going to start using stuff to help them, he had no chance of winning. He'd just have to try again another day.

Kyle walked forward and grabbed his pocket knife off the ground. He'd have to wash off Cartman's blood before he could even consider using it again. He turned and walked back over to where Stan, Bebe, and Clyde were standing. "You okay?" He asked Bebe. "You fell pretty hard."

"Yeah," she showed him her scratched elbow, "it's just a little scratch."

"Okay."

"Kyle, what was Cartman saying before you stabbed him?" Stan asked concernedly.

Kyle shrugged. "I have no idea," he lied smoothly. "I just knew whatever he was gonna say would've just been a waste of time. I figured it'd be best to chase him off before he could say much."

Stan nodded. "Good point." He grabbed the milk and orange juice out of the back of the Malibu. "Thanks for going grocery shopping with Kyle, Bebe," he smiled, "I appreciate it."

"It's nothing," she said with a smile in return.

Kyle led her into the apartment as Clyde and Stan grabbed what was left of the groceries. He handed her a Hello Kitty band-aid and smiled. "Here ya go, for the scratch."

"Thanks Kyle. You know, I've been meaning to tell you this for sometime," she winked, "but your ass is still pretty hot. I'm jealous."

He turned bright red again and slumped back against the bathroom wall. "Why does it seem that you always make me blush?"

She giggled and put the band-aid on her elbow. "Because maybe I'm a bit too straight forward…?"

"A bit?"

She laughed and walked out of the bathroom to meet Clyde so they could go. "See you guys later!" She waved as her and Clyde walked out of the apartment and back to his car.

Stan shut the door and began putting groceries away with Kyle. After a few moments of silence, Kyle asked Stan where he was applying for college.

He hesitated for a moment and then asked, "Where'd you hear that I was applying for college from?"

"That's irrelevant. Why didn't you tell me all seniors on the football team were required to apply to a university?"

"I didn't want you to think anything about it." He looked over at his husband and smiled softly. "I applied to the University of Texas, but I know that I won't be going, even if I get in. Just don't worry about it, okay?"

"…Okay." Kyle smiled too. "I won't worry about it then. Oh, one more thing."

"Yeah?"

"Stop putting lube on the grocery list! Do you have any idea how embarrassing that was?"

Stan chuckled. "Sorry, I didn't think Bebe would go with you. I figured it'd be Butters or Pip."

"Well, Bebe was the one I went with."

"I promise I won't put it on the list anymore." He pulled Kyle into his arms and flashed a mischievous smile. "I'll just go get it from the sex shop myself."

Kyle groaned, "Oh dear God…"

…Two Weeks Later…

Stan plopped down in front of a computer at the public library and pulled up the internet. Kyle was off somewhere looking for a fantasy novel to read. Stan went to his yahoo e-mail account, finding the usual junk mail from Facebook and Myspace before he found an important e-mail from the football coach at the University of Texas. He read through the final few lines again, his mouth dropping open in disbelief as he did.

…My scouts have mentioned you for a few years now, so I was enthralled to see that you were applying for admission to our university. I would like to announce that I've gotten approval to give you a full-ride scholarship to play football with us should you finish out your senior year and graduate with all passing grades.