Chapter Twenty-Seven - Shots Fired.

As she walked out of the pharmacy, Wendy had a firm grasp on the paper bag that she was holding in her hand. A smile crossed her as she felt a supportive squeeze at her shoulder. Looking up at her mother with grateful eyes, the matching grin that was clear as day on Mrs. Testaburger's face instantly confirmed to Wendy that she had made the right decision.

The two women strolled away from the entrance way of the store and back into the hustle and bustle of the mall while Mrs. Testaburger kept a loving grip on her daughter. They had just finished up at Wendy's doctors' appointment, picked up her new prescription, and were now headed back home for the evening. It was almost closing hours on Wednesday afternoon at the mall, and tomorrow was the day where the teenage girl would be taking off to Phoenix along with the rest of the South Park cheer squad and football team.

Despite her initial jittery nerves, Wendy was feeling a lot more excited to go away for the tournament now. It was going to be the first time in about eight and half months that she would be going out to cheer. Practice had been going amazingly, as if she had never been away from the sport at all, and now she simply couldn't wait to get back out there for real. But even more than that, she definitely couldn't wait to watch Stan do what he did best and tear up on the football field.

The weekend was going to be absolutely perfect.

Suddenly being snapped from her delightful daydreams, Wendy heard her mum clear her throat as she let go of her shoulder.

"Honey, I'm just going to run to the bathroom. How about you go and find us a seat in the food court and we'll have a coffee before we go home?"

Nodding her head with a simple 'okay', Wendy and her mother took off in opposite directions as the teenager made her way to the centre of the mall where the food court was.

She was utterly lost in her own thoughts as she sauntered along. Pulling her mobile phone out of her pocket, Wendy opened her messages folder and tapped on Stan's name. The giddy grin was still glued to her face as she ran her thumbs across the keypad, giggling at his last message to her. They hadn't even been talking about anything in particular, but they never needed to. It was more than enough for both of them to know that they were simply just thinking about one another.

Wendy was so engrossed in the screen of her phone and the words staring back at her that just as she about was about to hit 'send', she grunted slightly at the surprising sensation of bumping into something in front of her. Heaving out a breath, the teenage girl flicked her dark locks out of her face as she gazed up.

The second that she did, Wendy's stomach dropped.

The menacing expression on Darcy's face and the sarcastic narrowing of her eyes made Wendy gulp in nervousness. Normally, it would be all too easy for the dark haired girl to simply roll her eyes at Darcy, barge her back and then be on her way. There was only one problem – Darcy wasn't alone. Not only was the teenage girl being flanked by Leah, but their other Middle Park friend, Tori, was with them, as well.

Wendy gritted her teeth. The teenager had never been too afraid to voice her opinion or back down from a fight – never, not even in elementary school. But Wendy was severely outnumbered. And Darcy had a trouble-making glisten in her eye.

"Wendy," the red-head exclaimed with sarcasm dripping in her tone, "Fancy meeting you here all by yourself."

Wendy bit down on her bottom lip as she tried to scramble past the three girls, "Yeah, coincidences are a funny thing," she spat.

"Well, where are all your little friends?" Leah joined in, cutting Wendy off as she stood in front of her, "Or your little boyfriend, where's he?"

A serious anger was abruptly starting to brew in Wendy's stomach. She may have been all on her own, but the last thing she was going to do was let the three nasty, spiteful bullies back her into a corner.

"Look, I don't want to start anything with any of you, okay?" she argued.

"Who's starting anything?" Darcy asked with a laugh, "We're only saying a friendly 'hello'."

A devious smirk was smugly plastered to Darcy's face. She was having way too much fun with this. Her initial reaction to Stan ending what they had may have left her feeling timid and miserable, but the auburn haired beauty wasn't going to let herself suffer like that anymore. Quite frankly, right now she was just plain pissed off. And the second that she and her friends had spotted Wendy alone in the mall, the three teenagers knew it was the time to pounce.

"We've already shared a lot of things Wendy, where's the harm in getting to know each other?"

A raging fire swiftly lit up behind Wendy's eyes.

Darcy was right – the two of them had shared Stan. But not all of him. His smile, his laughter and his kiss, maybe. But Darcy never had even an ounce of his love or the pure connection that Wendy had with him.

"Okay, look, I'm not going to stand here and be intimidated or take any of this shit from any of you," Wendy suddenly snapped. Standing tall and marching forward confidently, the teenage girl fiercely pushed past Tori, "You lost him, Darcy, get over it."

As she stumbled back from the impact with Wendy, Tori shook her head with a furious scoff. Without even thinking, the third Middle Park girl sprung forward and clawed at Wendy, snatching the paper bag that she was holding right out of her hand.

"Hey!" Wendy yelped, twirling around and glaring at the three girls, "What the fuck, give that back!"

Raising her brow in suspicion at the sudden tone of anxiousness in Wendy's throat, Darcy glanced at Tori. Her two friends seemed to be sharing the exact same thoughts as Tori then handed the bag to the red-head. Keeping her eyes on Wendy and watching her sweat, Darcy then ripped the sticky tape off the pharmacy packet and peered inside.

At first glance, Darcy felt her heart sink. A dull pain shot across her chest to see the packet of contraceptive pills staring back at her. There was a solely obvious reason as to why Wendy would have bought them – it was the same situation that Darcy pictured herself being in no more than just two short weeks ago. But the auburn haired girl wasn't going to give Wendy the pleasure of seeing how upset she was.

Shooting her vision back up to meet the teenage girl opposite her, Darcy smirked at the pure dread in Wendy's expression.

After speaking with Leah at lunch on Monday, it had been Darcy's initial intention to simply throw a spanner into the works of Stan and Wendy's relationship. Her plan had been to reveal to Wendy what Stan had done with her just twenty-four hours before the young couple managed to rekindle their love. But now after discovering what she had just seen and feeling the miserable regret churn in her stomach, Darcy suddenly had a much more sinister idea.

Who was going to stop her from twisting the truth just slightly? After all, being honest certainly wasn't in the forefront of the girl's mind. The only thought that Darcy had now was one of revenge.

Scrunching up the top of the paper bag, Darcy gestured for her two friends to follow her as she finally began to make her exit, "Aw, well, that's just typical Stan, I guess."

The bizarre quip from the red-head made Wendy frown before Darcy took a step towards her and shoved the bag against her chest. Locking their vision, Darcy then narrowed her eyes and brought her tone to an evilly grim whisper.

"He always made sure we were protected every time we did it together, too."

Wendy's body and soul completely shut down as her heart went plummeting into the sickly depths of her stomach. The torturous giggles of the three Middle Park girls as they walked away were totally inaudible to her. The only thing she could hear was Darcy's last tormenting statement ringing in her ears over and over and over again.

When they were finally out of sight, Wendy snapped herself out of her frozen and bewildered state. She spun around on the spot and tried to avoid all the other mall-goers as they pushed past her where she stood in the middle of the walkway. Her throat was dry as she tried to swallow a nervous, uncomfortable lump.

Glancing down at her phone, Wendy stared blankly at the text message to Stan that she was still yet to send. Blowing out an emotionless sigh, the teenage girl stood there in mere hesitation for a moment or two, until she held down the 'backspace' button and watched all the words slowly vanish from the screen letter by letter.

Without saying anything out loud, or even thinking anything more to herself, Wendy then shoved her phone and the paper bag into the bottom of her handbag and dashed off in search of her mum.

Wendy needed to just go home with her mother and quickly pick up her own car. Because there was now one more stop that she needed to make before this evening was out.

Finally placing his football boots on top of the reasonably neat pile of clothing, Stan pulled over the top of his suitcase, jamming it down as he firmly yanked the zipper shut. Lifting the heavy case off his bed, Stan then spun around and ducked out of his bedroom, heading down the stairs. A smile crossed him as he placed the large bag by the front door in preparation to leave for the tournament in the morning.

The teenage boy was sort of surprised. He didn't have even the slightest hint of pre-game jitters, which was strange because he and his team were sure to be playing much more than just one game over the course of the weekend. The only emotion Stan could feel was pure excitement. Not that he was complaining – it just felt good to know that he was going to get to spend four whole days doing what he enjoyed most. All while be surrounded by the people he enjoyed most.

With this thought still happily consuming his mind, Stan went to turn around and head back up to his room when he suddenly heard a soft knock at the door. As convenient as it may have been, the teenage boy frowned as he wondered who it could be. Both his parents were still at work for about another hour or so, but he didn't think that they were expecting anyone, anyway.

Reaching for the door handle, he simply shrugged his shoulders. In the next second, the smile sprung back to Stan's face.

"Hey," he exclaimed in surprise to see Wendy loitering casually in his doorway, "I didn't think I was gonna' see you till the morning?"

The delightful tone in his voice sent reluctant goosebumps ricocheting up Wendy's arms. She remembered all too well what Darcy has last spoken to her, but even so, Wendy grinned back at Stan.

"Have you got a minute?"

Stan smirked, "For you?" he asked sweetly, holding the door open for her.

Feeling a blush appear in her cheeks, Wendy slowly sauntered into the house, gazing down at Stan's suitcase as she brushed past it.

"All ready to go tomorrow?" she asked.

"Yeah, I literally just finished packing," Stan answered, licking his bottom lip, "How'd you go at the doctor?"

Taking a seat on the couch, Wendy fell to small moment of hesitation. She sensed a stabbing feeling in her gut as she pushed on, "Fine. He gave me a prescription and everything… so it's all good to go."

An immediate sense of anticipation bubbled in Stan's abdomen as he cheekily slid across the couch to land beside Wendy. He grinned at her sarcastically, "Well, go ahead and pop one of those suckers in."

Trying not to giggle at his playful nature, Wendy soon couldn't help it as she rolled her eyes, "I've gotta' wait till my period's over, and then I still have to take it for two weeks before it starts working, dumbie."

"I know, I know. I'm only kidding," Stan answered with a chuckle, "So, what's up, anyway? Do you have time, can you stay for a while?"

As he inched closer to her on the lounge and lifted up his right arm to drape over her, Wendy suddenly felt something strange inside of her snap. A twinging pain of hurt and confusion instantly shot throughout Stan's core as Wendy held her own arm up to stop his and rapidly shied away from him.

The teenage boy's heart skipped a timid beat, "What's wrong?"

As she nervously glanced up at him where he sat beside her, Wendy tried to keep her expression as soft and calm as possible. The last thing she wanted to do was jump to any crazy conclusions, but if there was any truth in what Darcy had told her – any at all – then Wendy wasn't sure if she really wanted Stan touching her right now.

The dark haired girl gulped, "I thought you said you've never slept with anyone else?"

The notion sounded almost comical to Stan as an amused twinkle sparked in his eyes and he tried to hug Wendy again, "What?"

The word has left his lips with a chuckle, but when Wendy resisted his touch a second time, Stan quickly stopped laughing. He narrowed his vision at her, reading the appearance of her features to find that she was being dead serious. A small scoff left him as he stared her directly into her eyes and her soul.

"Wendy. I haven't. Why would I lie to you about something like that?"

Wendy forced herself not to sigh and show how relieved she was at the genuine tone accompanying her boyfriend's words. Deep down, she hadn't believed it – not for a second, of course she hadn't. She had just needed to make sure, any teenage girl would have.

Taking his hand with an apologetic squeeze, Wendy shrugged her shoulders, "I'm sorry. It's just, I was at the mall and Darcy was there with a couple of her friends and – "

"Darcy?" Stan interjected with a knowing raise of his eyebrow, "What did she say to you?"

The supportive smile on his face made Wendy feel better as she went on, "She saw what I had bought from the pharmacy and just made some snarky comment about you two always being safe and prepared when you did it and – "

"Wendy, she's lying," Stan promised her, cutting in as he laughed in disbelief, "She's just being jealous and spiteful and trying to start shit. Look, I'm sorry, okay? You shouldn't have to be the one to put up with all her crap."

"It's not your fault," Wendy replied, heaving her shoulders in another shrug, "I just can't believe she's pathetic enough to pretend that you two actually did anything together."

Suddenly feeling a little less confident in himself, Stan felt his stomach drop. He allowed a frown to collapse into his features as he apprehensively cleared his throat and bit down on his lip.

"Well… we didn't not do anything together…"

The teenage boy watched on as his girlfriend soon mirrored his uneasy frown. She seemed to be giving herself time to let his statement settle in her mind while she was still trying to decide how exactly to feel about it.

Soon enough, though, Wendy could only stare blankly at him, "What… what do you mean?"

Stan's voice was shy as it left him, "W-well… we were seeing each other for, like, six months…"

"So, if you didn't have sex, what did you do?"

Stan's face instantly turned a ghostly, pal white. Crap. Why had he even opened his mouth?

"… Everything but."

Upon this confession, Stan felt Wendy's hand leave his.

"When was the last time?" she demanded.

Stan stuttered through a gentle smile, "Wendy – "

"Third base, Stan," she furiously leapt back in, "When was the last time?"

Stubbornly keeping his lips pressed tightly together, Stan quickly crumbled under the combination of the anger in Wendy's eyes and the guilt churning in his own guts. He held his breath, "… The same day I kissed her at school."

"Stan!"

"What?!"

Wendy had instantly seen red, quicker than she had in almost her entire life as she bolted up from the couch, folding her arms across her chest. Stan, on the other hand, was left completely dumbfounded.

He scoffed, "What is the big deal? I don't see how I've done anything wrong?"

Wendy's sniping response was immediate, "So you're telling me that just one night before we had sex for the first time, you were getting your dick sucked by some other girl?"

Swiftly recovering from the unexpected blatancy of her comment, Stan fell to hesitation. As he recounted the messy scenario and how Wendy saw it in his head over and over again, the teenage boy soon cringed.

"Okay, well when you put it like that…"

It was Wendy's turn to scoff as she shook her head at how flippantly Stan seemed to be taking all of her concerns. Rolling his eyes at her slightly, Stan stood up from the lounge and joined Wendy in the centre of the living room, grasping for either of her arms.

"Look, I'm sorry, okay?" he urged her, "I obviously would have told you if I thought it was going to be this much of a big deal."

"Oh, so you still don't see how it is a big deal?"

"Why would it be? It's not like it meant anything," Stan argued, desperately scratching the back of his neck as Wendy pulled away from him again, "In fact, it meant less than any other time I was ever with her because I knew I was only doing it because I was mad at you."

A spiteful sting started clawing at Wendy's throat, "It was that easy throw me to one side, was it?"

Freezing in his place, Stan sensed his expression heatedly scrunch up. He didn't want to get angry at Wendy right now, but the ridiculous hypocrisy in her words was quickly starting to get under his skin.

As she snatched up her bag and pushed past him to get to the front door, Stan irritably spun around on the spot.

"Um, you had a boyfriend, remember?" he spat, "You actually full-on dated another dude who wasn't me. Can we not forget that important little fact, please?"

"Exactly," Wendy agreed through gritted teeth, twirling back around to glare at him, "I was in a committed relationship, I wasn't leading anybody on or meaninglessly hooking up with anyone!"

"Oh, please!" Stan shouted back, "Don't stand there and pretend for a second that any part of him was actually committed to you just to try and make me look like an asshole."

"You're doing a pretty good job of that for yourself, right now."

Stan's expression widened in disbelief, "Jesus, dude!" he laughed sarcastically, "Wendy, this is ridiculous! You were with someone else for a long time too, ya' know – I'll bet you're not completely guiltless, either? What did the two of you ever do together?"

Abruptly falling to an adamant silence, Wendy tightened her grip on the handle of her purse as she refused to offer any immediate answer. Grinding her teeth together, she barely parted her lips as some stubborn words finally left her, "… Everything but."

Stan's arms instantly flew out to the side and fell into a shrug, "Then what the hell are we arguing about?" he pleaded with her, "Wendy, I don't care, and neither should you. We'll always have the two most important firsts – we were each other's first kiss and first… ya' know, first."

As she still refused to look at him, Stan blew out a sad sigh and shoved his hands into his pockets as he finished his thought.

"First and hopefully only…" he gently admitted, "Why does anything else matter?"

Wendy's arms were still firmly crossed over her body as she eventually brought her eyes back up to stare at him. The desperation drowning his words and begging her to just put this entire argument behind them was all too clear to her, but deep down, Wendy was still fuming.

She hated the idea that Stan had given Darcy even the slightest amount of ammunition to make her look foolish. The one-up that the teenage girl had on her red-headed rival was suddenly crushed. But more than all of that, Wendy was still absolutely pained by the knowledge that while she had been at home crying hysterical tears into her pillow that miserable Thursday night, Stan had been in his bed thoughtlessly hooking up with Darcy.

And then had the audacity to make no mention of it the next night as they were taking each other's virginity.

This final thought made the furious fire reignite in Wendy's stomach, "Because you still can't admit to me or yourself how selfish and pathetic it was to actually share any part of yourself with someone like her."

Thrown back by the deadly venom in her voice, Stan remained still for a moment until a deeply set frown angrily creased into his brow. Pathetic? The three malicious syllables repeated themselves over again in Stan's brain, causing him to sharpen his own coiled tongue.

"Wendy, you weren't here," he spat coldly, "You wanted nothing to fucking do with me, remember?"

A cynical smile popped up in the corner of Wendy's lips as Stan finally started to fire up straight back at her.

Her expression only made him angrier, "Why are you so insecure?"

"I'm being insecure, now?!"

"Yes!" Stan yelled, sensing the very last, thin string of his patience snap, "Because you always have to be Wendy Perfect Fucking Testaburger who is quick to point the blame at others, but can't admit when you're in the wrong, too!"

Stan's blood was boiling, but he wasn't finished just yet, "You didn't care about me for the past two years, so don't storm in here and pretend that now you give a shit about what I did while you were gone!"

In a spark of red-hot fury and hurt, Wendy took a wrathful step forward, latching onto Stan's left wrist and turning over his forearm, "You didn't need girls to fill that void, Stan, didn't you have this, instead?"

Ripping away from her, Stan stared down emptily at the burns that marked his arm before gazing back at her in disbelief. Rolling down his sleeves, he shook his head at Wendy with disgust, "What the hell is wrong with you? At least the shit that I did didn't make my entire family move back halfway across the country!"

For a second, Wendy's heart stopped beating. She narrowed her eyes, "You're really gonna' bring that up?"

"Why not?" Stan sniped back, "You're dragging every skeleton out of my closet. The only difference is that none of my shit is anywhere near as idiotic as what you did."

Wendy had finally heard enough. Spinning back around on her heels, she had her eyes glued to the front door with more purpose than any other time that afternoon.

Her mind cycled back to the night where she had revealed to Stan exactly what had happened to her in Malibu. She could still feel the fear that had consumed her in that moment at the thought that he would judge her and blame her and never see her in the same adoring light ever again. And while he may have hugged her and kissed her and promised her that he never could, Stan's words certainly seemed to be screaming the exact opposite of all that right now.

As Wendy reached for the door handle, she cleared her throat, remembering the final thing that Stan had spoken to her before they fell asleep that night, "What happened to 'everyone makes mistakes'?"

The muffled sentence that echoed from her while her back was turned to him made Stan clench his fists. This overwhelming argument that had appeared from absolutely out of nowhere had left the teenage boy completely blinded by his rapid rage. Before he had the chance to even realise what he was saying, his brain completely shut down and his mouth opened itself wide up.

"Yeah, well, most people's mistakes don't involve them turning into a skank with no common sense and taking their clothes off for someone that they barely even know!"

Stan had never wanted to take something back so quickly in his whole life.

The intense atmosphere of the room that had been heated by their fiery argument sharply turned ice cold as a dramatic silence swept over the two teenagers.

They both seemed to be completely frozen in time – neither of them wanting to say anything more or even wanting to move a single muscle. It was as if they were trapped in a still frame from a movie, and the sensation seemed to stretch on for a lifetime until Wendy finally turned back around.

There fire from her eyes had vanished. Her face was pale and her expression was blank as she simply gazed at Stan, her mouth slightly parted. Instantly, the dark haired boy wanted to drop to his knees and pour his heart out and apologise to her, but the most stubborn section of his brain still had complete control over him.

In the next instant, Stan felt his heart splinter as the hurt and betrayal began to register in Wendy's face.

She managed to bring her voice to a timid murmur, "When you talk to me like that, it makes me feel like I barely know you."

The young girl waited to see if her boyfriend would offer her any kind of response. But when he was still speechless, Wendy shook her head in disbelief, "Maybe I'll think twice before taking my clothes off for you next time."

As she made her way for the front door once more, Stan snapped out of his bemused trance of denial. What the hell had he done?

"Wendy – "

"No, Stan, seriously, I can't even look at you right now."

The moment that this sentence had completely left her lips, Stan felt every single ounce of anger drain from him. The only emotion he felt now was fear.

This insanely stupid fight that the young couple had fallen into had totally been blown out of proportion. Stan still couldn't begin to know where the hell it had even come from. What he did know, however, was that both he and Wendy were at fault. Yes, she had started everything and been acting totally mental, but Stan hadn't needed to fight back with her. Why hadn't tried to calm her instead, or even just simply walked away? And then – of course – it was him who had taken things too far and fired the most hurtful insult.

That was where his emotion of fear came into play. He had heard this tone and seen this expression from Wendy before. And now, as she opened her mouth to speak again, he was left utterly terrified and afraid.

"Don't call me tonight, don't text me, and don't pick me up in the morning."

Terrified and afraid that for the third – and perhaps final time… Wendy was about to break up with him.

Stan's heart was in his throat as Wendy opened the front door and took one step outside. In a final moment of hesitation, she gazed at him, their eyes locking.

And Wendy sighed.

"I'll see you at school."

The door to his family home softly closed back in place, as simultaneously, Stan felt his poise and fortitude crumble all around him. He sucked in a deep breath and his muscles slouched in sadness as he tried to resist the urge to break down. He wasn't sure whether he was more angry at himself for bringing up Griffin, or more upset by how much he had hurt Wendy.

He only wished he could rewind and apologise to her. And assure her how much he loved her.

As the teenager's glance skimmed the rest of the empty room and settled on the sight of his packed suitcase, Stan groaned. The prospect of heading out to Phoenix suddenly didn't feel anywhere near as welcoming anymore.

It wasn't until later that evening when Stan came face-to-face with his next dilemma.

As he lay in his bed, resting his hand between his head his pillow, the teenage boy sighed. His thumb had been hovering over the 'send' button of his phone for just about ten or so minutes now. Wendy's demand to make absolutely zero contact with her that night still rang harshly in his ears, but Stan wondered whether he would actually get himself into any more trouble by breaking that rule.

His heart thumped lightly against his rib cage as he re-read the seven simple words to himself over and over again.

I'm sorry, for everything. I love you.

Stan sighed out in heavy frustration. Shutting his eyes tightly and irately shaking his head, he held his breath as he tried to force his thumb down onto the touch screen. And yet, for whatever reason, Stan just couldn't will himself to send the message.

Finally giving in, the teenage boy threw his phone down the end of his bed. Snatching up one of his pillows, Stan held it into his face and let out an exasperated scream.

The muffled noises had been just loud enough to catch the attention of a suddenly confused Sharon as she walked past her son's room with a basket of clean laundry. Bringing herself to a halt in his doorway, Sharon gazed at Stan. She raised a curious eyebrow as the pillow remained glued to his face.

"Honey? You okay?"

The sound of his mother's voices rocked Stan from his agitated trance as he slowly revealed his face and hurled his pillow across the room, "Why do girls have to be so goddamned difficult?"

Rolling her eyes at him, Sharon sighed as Stan slouched over onto his side. She really should have seen this coming.

"Okay," she conceded, stepping into his bedroom, "What happened?"

Stan reluctantly sat up against his bedhead as Sharon placed the washing basket down and took a seat beside him on the edge of his bed. She seemed oddly calm, considering she could probably guess that something horrible must have gone wrong between him and Wendy.

The brunette woman gently licked her lips, "Are you two okay?"

Faltering over the question for a second or two, Stan shrugged his shoulders and folded his arms against his chest, "If by that you mean 'are we still together', then, yeah."

"Alright, so, do you want to tell me what this is all about then?"

The quarterback fell to a wavering moment of uncertainty. Did he really want to delve into all his miserable and sensationalised teenage angst with his mother – one of the people who had been wary about him getting back together with Wendy from the very start?

Stan soon sighed. He figured Sharon wasn't really giving him much of a choice, because she definitely didn't seem to be going anywhere until her son gave in and revealed even the smallest portion of what was on his mind. Besides, the teenager thought to himself, hopefully his mum would be able to provide some much needed insight into the workings of the hormonal, female brain.

"We had a fight… This huge fight," he reiterated, "About the people we'd both been seeing while we were apart."

Sharon grinned gently, "Well, honey, there's no need to be jealous – "

"I'm not jealous – she is! It's all her, she started it," Stan cut in, "It's all because she hates Darcy and hates the ides of me hanging out with her so much right before we got back together. She was acting like a total psycho."

"Well, if this is all her fault, then why are you the one sitting up here feeling so guilty?"

The knowing tone in Sharon's voice brought Stan's ramblings to a sudden stop. The dark haired boy remained stubbornly quiet for a second or two, not entirely willing to answer his mother's question. Eventually, though, Stan huffed in despair. He knew he had messed up.

"Because I kinda' said something really stupid and horrible about her ex-boyfriend…"

Sharon's eyes widened, "Her ex-boyfriend? The one who tried to hurt her and completely ruin her life?"

Stan's chest ached, "Yeah, okay, you don't need to rub it in."

Staring at her baby boy with tender understanding in her vision, Sharon reached for Stan's face and wisped the longer of his black locks out of his eyes. As he slumped down miserably into his bed again, Sharon moved her loving grip to his shoulder.

"So, what was it that you said?"

The affection and love that Stan could feel pouring from his mother's simple touch made him grumble in further hesitation.

It wasn't just what he had said to Wendy, it was the name he had called her, the tone he had used – everything. The teenage boy was disgusted in himself. And he was certainly far too ashamed to tell anyone else about it.

Slowly Stan shook his head, "I don't need you being totally disappointed in me, too."

The thought made Sharon cringe for a fleeting instant, but soon enough, she nodded her head, "Have you tried talking to her?"

"She told me not to," Stan spoke, "She doesn't even want me to pick her up in the morning."

The pain in her son's voice was creating an uncomfortable twinge in Sharon's heart. But, at the same time, she could only imagine how Wendy must have been feeling, too.

The older woman remembered exactly what it was like to be a teenage girl. The insecure ways your brain can work, how confused your hormones make you, how vulnerable your heart becomes. It was all too familiar to Sharon. But she knew how much the two kids truly loved each other deep down. Wendy would come around in due time.

"Well…" Sharon mused, "It sounds to me like you just need to give Wendy this space that she wants while she calms down."

A sad appearance shot across Stan's features. He had a feeling that was exactly what Sharon was going to say to him, but it didn't make the sentiment any less difficult to hear.

Reading the reluctance in his face, Sharon gently stroked Stan's cheek, "Baby, it'll be okay. Wendy loves you, she'll come around," she promised, "You've just gotta' try and forget about it for now and get a good night's sleep – you've got a big day tomorrow."

Stan held in a disbelieving scoff as he simply nodded his head at his mother's words and pushed back his covers, climbing into bed properly. There was no way in hell he was going to be able to sleep that night without thinking about Wendy.

Of course, Sharon was all too aware of this deep down as she quickly kissed Stan on the forehead goodnight and stood up from the bed. Retrieving the basket of washing at her feet, she gently strolled over to his bedroom door and brought her hand to the light switch. Just before she flicked it off, Sharon paused and turned her head to glance at her son once more.

"You're not worried about her leaving you, are you, sweetheart?"

The words stung in the back of Stan's brain as the reality of them settled reluctantly in his soul. But in actuality, Stan's face remained firm as his fears surrounding these thoughts had already faded hours ago.

As much as that evening's events had absolutely killed him inside, the teenage boy had been able to discover the one positive factor that had inadvertently developed. It was the one element that Stan could be completely confident in.

"No. If she was ever really going to break up with me again, this would have been it."

Slowly nodding her head, Sharon finally flicked off Stan's bedroom light. She wasn't sure if his reasoning had made her feel one hundred per cent better, but even so, the brunette woman decided not to push him any further that evening. He needed his rest.

"Good night, baby."

Stan forced a small smile into the darkness, "Thanks, Mum."

The words echoed sweetly in pitch black room for a moment longer, until Stan was left all on his own again.

Lying on his back and gazing pointlessly up at the dark ceiling of his room, Stan sighed. He ran his hand down the length of his bed, fishing for his phone. Once he found it and latched on, the teenage boy unlocked the device, flinching at the brightness of his screen.

The words he had written were still there. And they were still true. But ultimately, Sharon was right. Wendy needed her space. Even if Stan didn't want to necessarily give it to her.

Without saying anything more, or thinking about anything else other than her beautiful face, Stan closed his message folder and placed his phone on his bedside table, along with his red and blue beanie.

Tomorrow, he absolutely needed to fix everything.

:( Well that sure escalated quickly. What else could possibly go wrong from here?

Feel free to leave me a review with your own bizarre predictions, or you can just show me a little love seeing as it only took me eight days to update this time... jussayin ;)

I hope you all enjoyed this chapter (or maybe not)! I would really appreciate hearing what you all think :)

Till next time guys,

Reneyyyyyyyyyyy x