Chapter Thirty-One - Without Hesitation.

As the siren sounded in the background and another game finally came to a close, Stan leant over, clutching at his knees and heaving out some exhausted breaths.

It was a little after midday on Friday afternoon, and South Park had just earned their third win of the pre-season tournament. Their winning streak was still alive and well with a comfortable twenty-eight points to seven victory over their opponents. The entire team had certainly earned their lunch break before the next game of the afternoon. But as he remained down on his hunches, reluctant to stand back up and even think about eating anything, Stan sighed.

During the rough forty minutes that they had been playing, the quarterback had tried as hard as he could to keep his head totally in the game. But the second it was all over, Stan instantly felt a sick lump form in the pit of his stomach. Not only had he awoke to another morning where Wendy wasn't speaking to him, and not only was he still fuming at the thought of Griffin being within even a mile radius of her, there was something else gnawing at Stan with the absolute worst kind of anticipation.

Before the overbearing thought could reveal itself and begin to eat away at him again, Stan blinked in sudden surprise and snapped his head up at the sound of his name. Glancing over to the sideline, the teenage boy narrowed his eyes as he spotted Kyle standing in the front row of the bleachers, waving him over.

Stan hesitated for a second. Kyle had definitely attempted to give him more than one lecture the night before after their run-in with Griffin. The quarterback wasn't sure if he was willing to see what his best friend had to say to him now, but soon enough, Stan pulled off his helmet, joining the rest of his teammates as they slowly sauntered off the field and over towards the small crowd.

Staring up at Kyle where he stood amongst the seating above him, Stan forced a sort of half-smile.

Kyle mirrored his expression, "You're playing really well today, dude," he offered sincerely, taking a second to pause, "You okay, though?"

Stan fell back to a slim wavering, eventually shrugging his shoulders, "I guess out there I am..."

Sighing with concern for his best friend, Kyle took his eyes away from Stan for a brief moment as he grabbed onto the guard rail of the bleachers. Just as the red-head sprang off his feet and over the rail with every intention to safely land on the ground beside Stan, the South Park cheerleaders suddenly began walking down the side of the field right in Kyle's landing zone. The Jewish boy sucked in a surprised breath as he came within an inch or two of colliding with one of the girls.

Stumbling for an awkward instant before finding his feet, Kyle quickly glanced up and immediately sensed his heart stop.

Bebe stared right back him with a slightly stunned expression. But for the most part, the blonde girl was blank, waiting for Kyle to say something to her.

For a torturous moment, Kyle was speechless before he finally cleared his throat, "Oh... hey. Sorry."

The blonde cheerleader continued to gaze right through him as Wendy soon joined her by her side, "It's fine."

The two showed little interest in each other as they continued to stand there – Bebe with her pom poms crossed over her chest and Kyle with his hands shoved into his pockets. But in reality, both teenagers were actually trying as desperately as they could to ignore the obsessive thoughts and urges for one another sitting in the back of their minds.

After their passionate encounter the night before when they had finally managed to re-dress and sneak off the unlocked coach, Kyle had walked his new girlfriend back towards her cabin. Arm in arm they had quietly strolled along, dwelling in the elated silence until Bebe had nervously cleared her throat. As much as the teenage girl wanted to proudly show off her boyfriend and place as many public displays of affection on him as possible, there was one thought stopping her.

Bebe was worried about Wendy. Her best friend was still severely on the outs with her own boyfriend, and something told Bebe that her and Kyle parading around so happily together wasn't going to make either Wendy or Stan feel much better. As much as Kyle hated to admit it, he had sort of agreed with her, too.

The way they both saw it – their new relationship would do one of two things to Stan and Wendy. Either make them realise how stupid they were both acting and force them back together, or just make them feel spiteful and jealous of their best friends' happiness and push them further apart. And quite frankly, neither Kyle nor Bebe were willing to take that risk.

And so, the two had agreed to keep their relationship a secret. Just for now, at least, and certainly only until they all returned to South Park after the football tournament. But it wasn't a big deal. Besides, Kyle and Bebe both thought it was actually kind of fun to pretend with one another. It would definitely make any other late-night meet ups that much more exciting, anyway.

All of a sudden, though, any thoughts that Kyle and Bebe had of each other were abruptly forgotten as they realised how close in proximity Stan and Wendy were to one another again and how intense their gaze had become. As much as Stan was still angry at Wendy for making him out to be the bad guy during their terrifying confrontation with Griffin, he tried to keep his eyes locked with hers with the most apologetic appearance he could muster.

For the absolute shortest second, Stan's heart skipped a beat as Wendy almost seemed to shoot him the tiniest smile. Just when she slightly parted her lips and Stan thought she might actually say something to him, Wendy's brow crinkled in hesitation.

Remaining completely silent, Wendy suddenly seemed to change her mind. Instead, she dug her heels into the grass beneath her and spun around, darting back up towards the locker room to get changed out of her uniform.

Watching her as she left, Stan grinded his teeth together in frustration. Why the hell did she have to be so damn stubborn? Was it honestly that difficult to take a deep breath and just start a conversation? These were the questions and thoughts that nagged at Stan as he scrunched up his fists and went to call out Wendy's name across the field.

But, of course, the second that Stan opened his mouth, nothing came out. Crap. Wendy truly wasn't the only stubborn one in their relationship, was she?

Huffing out in dire agitation, Stan murmured under his breath, "Oh, fuck it, whatever."

Rolling his eyes at the words that left his best friend, Kyle grabbed onto Stan's arm just before he could heatedly storm off, "Dude," he said, trying to calm him, "Don't be like that, you just gotta' give her some space."

Stan narrowed his eyes at Kyle in disbelief, "Some space?" he repeated with a laugh, "What do you think I've been doing this entire time, Kyle, I'm sick of it."

"She'll come around eventually, ya' know," Kyle urged, "It's not like you're broken up or anything, right?"

The sound of the daunting words that left Kyle's mouth made Stan cringe. He tried to stop his whole body from shuddering as he swallowed a lump in his throat, "Not as far as I know," he shot back with venomous sarcasm.

Kyle groaned, "Oh, I'm sorry, let me rephrase," he retorted with just as much cynicism, "You don't want to end up breaking up with her, right?"

Skidding into another timid silence, the hairs on Stan's arm pricked up as the foreboding thought settled in the front of his mind. He wasn't quite as quick with a snapping response this time. It may have only been two days since his monumental blow-up with Wendy, but it already felt like a lifetime longer than that. And the more minutes and hours that ticked by without them trying to make up or speak to each other, the more Stan began to wonder just how far was going to be too far to ever turn back.

Shaking his head to rid it of the harrowing thought, Stan only rolled his eyes at Kyle and Bebe. His best friend may have had a point, but there was no way in hell that Stan was willing to concede to that right now, "You wouldn't understand, Kyle."

Without giving the red-head the chance to respond, Stan sharply swivelled around on the spot and followed the rest of his team towards the locker room. Kyle continued to watch him in disbelief as he stomped away, leaving the Jewish teenager stewing in irritation. Gritting his teeth, he subtly turned to Bebe, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.

"I wouldn't understand?" he repeated, "Is he kidding?"

Bebe could only heave her shoulders up and down, "Just ignore him."

Completely rotating his body to fully face her, Kyle leant in, lowering his voice, "I'm being a better boyfriend than he is right now."

Instantly bursting out into an array of laughter, Bebe playfully pushed Kyle away as she kept her tone just as quiet, "Oh, give me a break! It hasn't even been twenty-four hours, you haven't had the chance to screw up yet."

Smirking back at her just as cheekily, Kyle shook his head at Bebe's joking words. He knew she was right about Stan, but Kyle wasn't feeling quite sympathetic enough towards his best friend to admit that out loud.

Resisting the urge to pull her into a tight hug, Kyle held his gaze on Bebe, "Yeah, well, I'm still gonna' end up kicking some sense into him before this weekend's over."

"You can't kick any sense into him," Bebe immediately replied with a mere shrug of her shoulders, "He's in love."

Glimpsing down at her, Kyle was still for a moment until he nodded his head in understanding. No matter how much either Stan or Wendy drove him absolutely insane, he knew that neither of them had any real control over their actions or emotions. The thought of it all made Kyle cringe a little. He couldn't imagine disregarding all logic, surrendering completely to his heart and letting it lead his life for him.

Well, maybe not yet, anyway.

"Let's never fall in love..."

The murmuring noise that left him with an underlying tone of cheeky sweetness made Bebe's heart flutter, "Yeah, you're right," she agreed sarcastically as she finally began to follow the rest of the squad to the locker room, "Let's just hang out and watch T.V. all the time."

Kyle grinned, "And eat food. And take naps."

Just as she passed him, another indulgent thought crossed Bebe's mind. She teasingly ran one of her pom poms over his arm as she glanced up at Kyle and bit her lip, whispering to him, "And have sex."

A delighted spark jolted throughout Kyle's who body at the last word that left Bebe's tongue. Before he could fully compose himself, his girlfriend was already out of his reach, strutting off the field as she caught up with the rest of her cheer squad. Kyle watched her leave, feeling his skin tingle as her hips swayed back and forth in her little, pleated skirt. The biggest, most goofy smile crossed his face.

Everything that Kyle was finally sharing with Bebe felt incredible. And not only that, but it was also making the Jewish teenager realise that he couldn't believe Stan was dumb enough to risk all he had with Wendy for the sake of some stupid argument.

While all this had been going on, Stan had successfully scampered off to the boys' locker room near the back row of cabins without awkwardly bumping into anyone else too unfavourable. He sighed into the sweaty material of his football jersey as he pulled it over his head and removed his shoulder pads. All the quarterback wanted to do was try to relax and have a quick shower to tidy himself up a little before he had to go back out on the field and play again.

Stan cringed. The thought of his next game brought the queasy feeling back to his stomach all over again. He had almost been distracted by his anger at Wendy just long enough to forget why he was so apprehensive about playing for a second time that day. But as a dull shiver ran across his bare torso, the reality of the looming kick-off was all too real to him again.

"Marsh!"

Stan's stomach suddenly back flipped for an entirely different reason as he heard his name being bellowed out across the locker room. Glancing over his shoulder, Stan's eyes narrowed as he spied his coach standing in the doorway, beckoning him over. He turned back around for a split second, quickly grabbing a plain t-shirt he had in his gym bag and pulling it on.

As he curiously approached his coach, Stan felt his expression collapse into an abrupt frown while the older man gestured down the corridor. He led his quarterback out of the locker room and out of ear shot from the rest of the team before he stopped and stared down at Stan with a blank face.

Coach Hasler was a man of average sort of height and stature. His hair was long of top and naturally swept over to one side. His eyes were a light hazel-brown colour and were usually filled with genuine care and understanding when they were directed at his players. But not this time. There was something different about this meeting with Coach Hasler. He seemed to be staring right through Stan, leaving the dark haired teenager feeling uneasy.

Soon enough, as his expression changed to one of slight disappointment, the man sighed, "What's this I'm hearing about you getting into a fight last night?"

Instantly, Stan's stomach dropped into a frazzled pile of nerves in the very pit of his guts. He suddenly wasn't sure whether to be anxious about being reprimanded for his actions, or absolutely livid at Griffin for having caused them.

So, instead, he chose to play dumb, "Where'd you hear that?"

The innocent tone in the teenager's voice wasn't fooling Coach Hasler, "The coach of that team we just played?" he began to explain, "It was his cabin that you outside of, ranting and raving and yelling last night. He recognised you out on the field today."

Stan's teeth grinded together in frustration as he fell into a sharp, defeated silence. He knew from the very second that he had wrapped his hands tightly around Griffin's collar that he wasn't exactly making the smartest or most sensible move. But despite knowing this, and despite the fact that he was now facing some trivial consequences for his actions, none of that mattered to Stan. Not for a single second.

There wasn't a force on this Earth that could have stopped him from laying his hands on the person who had done so to Wendy – not another argument with Kyle, not a punishment from his coach, not anything.

"Look, I don't know what this beef is between you and this Malibu punk, and quite frankly, I don't care," Coach Hasler went on, "Whatever it is, you need to squash it, and squash it now, got it? You know why, right?"

The demanding tone of voice and disappointed expression in his coach's face was compelling Stan to answer him, but the dark haired boy remained anxiously stubborn. The answer to Coach Hasler's question just happened to be the same thing that had left Stan feeling so unwell all morning. And now the teenager only feared that acknowledging it would cause all his nauseous anger to come heaving from within him.

Coach Hasler's glare was becoming more intensely impatient as Stan finally swallowed a reluctant lump in his throat and stuttered over his own tongue, "Because we're playing against Malibu this afternoon."

It was the first time Stan had managed to say it out loud as he sensed his stomach clench up and all of his muscles weaken. The thought of having to stand out in the open field with Griffin opposite him, staring right back at him and possibly sacking him for forty minutes straight was sickly unfathomable to Stan. How was it fair that this creep had already hurt the person Stan was in love with, but now he was taking something else that the quarterback loved and putting a cruel twist on that, too?

Stan honestly wasn't sure if he'd be able to do it.

"You're a good quarterback, Marsh," Coach Hasler spoke, suddenly snapping Stan back into reality, "But any more disagreements, fights, punch-ups, or anything else with any other schools – I'm putting you on the first flight back to Colorado."

Stan's jaw dropped as his heart sank, "But, Coach – "

"Is that clear?"

Coming to a screeching halt, Stan bit down hard on his tongue. He was already in way more trouble than what he ever expected for what, in reality, was a pretty uneventful fight. Stan quickly figured that arguing with his coach was probably only going to make his entire situation much, much worse.

With utter unwillingness, Stan nodded his head, "Crystal, Coach."

Returning the gesture, Coach Hasler narrowed his eyes at Stan as a final warning, "Good," he spoke, "You just rest up and make sure you stretch over this next hour or two. Word is this Malibu team ain't gonna' be easy to beat."

Leaving his lecture at that, Stan's coach gave him a simple pat on the shoulder and then turned around, exiting the locker room corridor. The very second that he did, Stan's confident exterior crumbled to the ground all around him in a pile of dust. The teenage boy didn't think it was even possible, but he suddenly felt about a million times worse than how he had first felt that morning when he found out he and his team had to verse Malibu.

Did Stan really believe that the Californian school was going to be difficult to beat? Absolutely he did. It was about the only damn thing that Stan did fully believe in that moment. But this sense of uncertainty wasn't due to a lack of confidence in his teammates – far from it. Stan only had a lack of confidence in himself. He had caught himself quite figuratively between a rock and a hard place.

Between Wendy ignoring him on the sideline, and Griffin utterly targeting him in the centre of the field, Stan was totally stuck. There was no escaping his horribly distracting frustrations, and there was no escaping what was sure to be his worst game of football that he would play for his whole life.

Kyle hadn't seen Stan since he stormed off after his first football game that morning. The red-head was certain that none of their other friends would willingly put up with so much immature, trivial crap for so long. And, in fact, if it wasn't for the agreement that he and Bebe had made to keep their distance from one another, the Jewish teenager would have probably lost all interest in Stan's tantrums by now.

But deep down, Kyle just couldn't bring himself to be that heartless. He cared about Stan, he was concerned for him. He just wanted to keep making sure his best friend was okay.

Stubbornly walking back down the grassy hill with his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jacket, Kyle rolled his eyes as he finally spotted Stan. He had been searching for the dark haired boy everywhere since word got around that Coach Hasler had threatened to send him home over some kind of confrontation with another school. And now, of course, Stan was completely secluding himself – running back and forth across the width of the football field with headphones in his ears and an iPod clipped to his shorts.

As Kyle soon approached him, he simply waited as Stan made it down to the opposite end of the field once more before turning around to come back. The second that his eyes landed on his best friend, Stan came skidding to a stop. Kyle stayed quiet, watching as Stan popped out his earphones and slowly came walking towards him. The quarterback's face was a warm shade of red and he was panting heavily while he strolled across the grass.

Kyle raised an eyebrow, "Have you eaten anything?"

Stan didn't answer. Kyle wasn't sure if he was still being a stubborn jerk, or if he was actually just too worn out to even speak. Soon enough, though, Stan shook his head. Without giving him a reply, the red-head pulled his hand out of his pocket, revealing a crisp, red apple that he had nabbed from the lunch buffet.

Stan caught the round delicious looking fruit as Kyle tossed it to him. He remained reluctant for a moment or two as he tried desperately to catch his breath, but Stan's stomach soon won the battle over his brain as he eventually took a hefty crunch out of it.

He swallowed, wiping the sweat from his brow, "Thanks."

"Well, someone's gotta' look out for you seeing as you're not gonna' do it for yourself," Kyle gently sniped, "What are you doing down here? You're gonna' totally wear yourself out before you have to play the next game."

With a grumbling groan, Stan took another bite of his apple, muttering between chews, "Don't remind me."

Kyle's brow crinkled as he uttered a groan of his own. He may not have had even the slightest grasp on exactly how screwed over and miserably defeated Stan must have been feeling, but he at least understood the importance and the pride of getting one over on Griffin out on the football field. If Stan couldn't lay his hands on Wendy's ex and truly make him suffer for what he had done to her, then surely doing anything he possibly could to ensure South Park's victory would be one of the next best things.

"Look, I know it fuckin' sucks, okay?" Kyle offered sincerely, "I'm sorry you have to face that piece of shit like this. But you're gonna' feel even worse if you don't play like your normal self and put in one hundred percent and kick his ass out there, right?"

Kyle waited with a breath held in, but when he was only met with the silent treatment once again, the red-head tried to not let his tone become too frustrated, "Stan?"

Staring his best friend right in the face, Kyle suddenly clicked as he realised Stan wasn't quite looking back at him. Instead, the dark haired quarterback seemed to be gazing just over his friend's shoulder with the slightest expression of stunned disbelief.

Kyle frowned, "Stan...?"

Before his name had even completely left Kyle's lips, Stan dropped his apple cold on the grass and took two giant marches forward. Kyle's eyes widened as his best friend pushed past him. He hastily spun around, as well, wondering what the hell was going on. And the precise moment that he did, Kyle felt his guts gurgle in disgust.

"Stan!" he spoke one final time, acting on pure impulse as he latched onto his oldest friend's arm and pulled him back into his grasp. He tightened his grip around Stan's bicep and wrapped a forceful arm around his stomach to stop him from lunging at the two figures that were walking down the hill towards them.

The sly smirks on the faces of Griffin and Connor made both Stan and Kyle feel absolutely sick. If the two seniors from Malibu were looking for another fight, now really, really wasn't the time. But in saying that, it didn't mean that Kyle wasn't prepared. He kept one eye dangerously close on Stan, ready to immediately leap to his defence as soon as the need presented itself.

Instantly noticing the fiery change in the atmosphere with each step he took towards Stan, Griffin chuckled, holding his hands up with a sarcastic tone, "Whoa, whoa, guys, just chill out! Why so hostile, kiddo?"

Utterly cringing at the belittling words in his voice, Stan shrugged himself out of Kyle's grip, glaring at Griffin, "What the fuck do you want, asshole?"

Again, the two older boys laughed at Stan's heated tone, "I just wanted to find you and wish you luck for our game this afternoon, that's all."

"Thanks, but I won't be needing it," Stan snapped back, causing Griffin to raise a surprised eyebrow.

"Oh, confident in yourself, are ya'?"

Stan grinded his teeth together, speaking with more certainty than he had felt all weekend, "I can run circles around you out there with my eyes closed."

Griffin didn't even blink at the foreboding determination with which Stan spoke. All he did was swap an amused glance with Connor as he shook his head, "Yeah, okay, sure ya' can, kid. Don't go getting so full of yourself. I'm told you're not the only player carrying your team?"

The curious statement that left the blonde boy's lips drove Stan to a confused silence as Griffin pushed on.

"You've been quarterback since elementary school, or whatever, right? But all people can seem to talk about is how your team captain is one of the best school-aged wide receivers in the country. Apparently you two make for a pretty lethal combination."

A smug smile crossed Stan, "Makes you a bit nervous, does it?"

"Maybe at first... but not anymore," Griffin said, firing back the same conceited expression. He folded his arms confidently across his chest and narrowed his eyes at Stan, smirking evilly, "South Park's gonna' lose this afternoon. Because you're gonna' throw the game."

The ridiculous declaration made Stan pause for a moment or two before he simply burst out laughing in disbelief. He looked to Kyle for a split second, rolling his eyes at how nervous his best friend suddenly appeared before turning back to Griffin, "Are you fucking kidding me? Enlighten me, dude, why would I ever do something like that for someone like you?"

Griffin's dark coloured eyes glistened in wicked anticipation. He had been waiting all too patiently for Stan to ask him that question.

"Did you know that every, single school in this tournament is required to have an emergency contact list with all the students' details, including their cell phone numbers?" he probed with a grin, nudging Connor as he did. The shorter of the two boys looked just as amused as he revealed a folded up piece of paper from the pocket of his shorts. As he unfolded it, Griffin licked his lips, "And did you also know that South Park just happened to lazily leave a copy of theirs lying around?"

Kyle's guts twisted up into knots as he instantly realised exactly what Griffin was eluding to. He worriedly locked his vision with Stan's, but only felt his expression drop in confusion as the dark haired boy appeared oddly calm. There was a bizarre sense of denial in Stan's features as he remained firm-faced and continued to glare at Griffin.

Stan's lack of wavering only made Griffin smile, "You're gonna' throw the game, or else I'm gonna' send the photo of your perfect, little girlfriend to every South Park student here."

The harshly made threat echoed in the back of Stan's mind, sharply pricking at his brain as it resonated over and over again. The thought almost left him totally paralysed with fear, until he swallowed an uncomfortable lump in the back of his throat and bravely shook his head.

Stan wasn't going to let Griffin manipulate him like he manipulated Wendy.

"You're full of shit," he announced, "I don't believe you."

Without giving the two Malibu natives the chance to say anything more or make any more idle threats, Stan patted Kyle on the back of his arm and beckoned him to follow him, "C'mon, Kyle, let's get outta' here."

The two best friends hastily tried to make their way past Griffin and Connor, but before they had even managed four steps away from them, Stan froze at the sound of the blonde bully's voice booming back to life.

"What was that? Kyle, is it?"

Nervously spinning back around on the spot, both boys remained deathly silent. Kyle had shuddered at the sound of his own name leaving Griffin's vile mouth, and Stan was now completely unable to take his eyes off his adversary. He watched on, his heart rate increasing ever-so-slightly with each tiny, subtle movement that Wendy's ex made next.

Griffin held his hand out towards Connor, gesturing for the supposed contact list of South Park students. His eyes ran down the page for only a second before he stopped and smiled, reaching for his mobile phone in his pocket. In just a terrifying few seconds, Griffin's thumbs ran over the screen of his smartphone until he came to a halt, smirking wider still as he shoved the device back into his jeans.

As much as he may have subconsciously been expecting it, Kyle still jumped in surprise as he felt his own phone suddenly vibrate against his leg. His jaw instantly dropped as he flicked his frantic vision up to Stan. He stared at him, waiting for instructions, for permission, for anything – anything that told him what the best and most logical thing there possibly was to do.

As Stan silently beckoned for Kyle to hand him his phone, he thought he might just throw up. He could see a sense of hesitation quickly cross the Jewish boy before Kyle reluctantly did what he was asked. Stan's hands were shaking. He unwillingly took his eyes away from Kyle's and glanced down to the small screen, typing in his best friend's passcode and opening his message folder.

And then, Stan's world came crashing down all around him.

A devastatingly searing, sharp pain pierced right through Stan's chest, shattering his heart into an uncountable number of pieces. The photo that had indeed been sent through to Kyle's phone made Stan's vision feel like it was painfully on fire. And not because Wendy's naked body wasn't as beautiful as it had always been, and not because the smile that she was obviously forcing wasn't sweeter than life itself – but because of the pure and simple dullness that Stan could see sitting in her sad eyes.

Wendy's gorgeous brown orbs looked totally lifeless. Lifeless, miserable, and petrified. And as Stan couldn't bear to look at the photo any longer, he finally snapped.

"You fucking son of a bitch!"

Shoving the phone against Kyle's chest, Stan made a dive at Griffin. Without daring to glimpse at it for himself, Kyle instantly pressed the lock button and buried the device back in his pocket as he fiercely managed to hold Stan back from Griffin once again. He wasn't going to let his best friend fly off the handle and get sent home because of this cowardly piece of crap – no way.

Laughing all over again at Stan's attempts to teach him a lesson, Griffin grinned with immense cynicism, "Whoa, c'mon now, Stan, save some of that aggression for the game," he chuckled, "Well, not that it takes that much aggression to lose on purpose, of course."

Writhing and thrashing his way out of Kyle's firm hold on him, Stan stared at Griffin with absolute and total hatred. His blood was boiling, his throat was gasping for fresh breath and he was desperately holding back horrified tears at the prospect of Wendy being irreversibly hurt all over again, "What the hell is stopping me from going and telling my coach about all this right fuckin' now?!"

"Uh, all I have to do is send this to one person for the damage to be done, you know," Griffin spat back with instant sarcasm, "If you're really gonna' rat me out, I'm still gonna' forward the photo to as many people as humanly possible. If I'm going down, I'm taking you and her with me."

Kyle could simply feel his heart break for his best friend as he watched Stan hopelessly try to come to another solution. Soon enough, though, all the dark haired quarterback could do was choke on a sigh.

"Why?"

Griffin smiled again.

"Because it's an opportunity. An opportunity for my team to win, to humiliate Wendy again, and to get back at you for thinking that you could seriously get away with putting your weak little hands on me last night."

His cruel reasoning only seemed to make any kind of peaceful resolution slip further and further away from Stan's grasp as Griffin impatiently held his arms out to the side and shrugged his shoulders, "So? What's it gonna' be?"

Stan couldn't speak from the sense of entrapment that was absolutely suffocating him. He could still see Griffin standing in front of him as clear as day and perfectly hear every sinister word he was saying to him, but in that moment, Stan's thoughts could only revolve around Wendy.

He pictured her gorgeous smile and how beautifully happy it always made her look. He despised even the slightest notion of Griffin ever taking her smile away from her again. Because despite how much he still may have been annoyed or irritated with her, Stan loved Wendy. He absolutely adored her. And he would do anything to protect her.

"I mean, I know you two aren't exactly on the same page right now," Griffin hastily sniped back in, "So, if you're too pissed to even give a shit about her anymore, then – "

The inconceivable suggestion brought all of Stan's hesitation to a final halt.

"The game's yours."

His heart broke with his own words as he watched the smug grins appear back on Griffin and Connor's faces. As far as they were concerned, they had already won.

"I thought so," he spat with satisfaction. Comfortably dwelling in an arrogant sense of victory, Griffin nudged Connor and then winked at Stan as they casually strolled past he and Kyle, "Cya' out there, Stan."

With his spirits completely deflated and his soul crushed, Stan slowly spun around and defeated watched Griffin walk back up the hill towards the camp ground. His whole tremoured with fuming anticipation as he envisioned the scenario of sneaking up behind the older blonde boy and thumping him as hard as he could in the back of the head.

Stan gritted his teeth, "I'm going to beat the fucking shit out of him."

"And then what, dude?" Kyle immediately countered, grabbing Stan's shoulder and twirling him back around to face him, "Get sent back to South Park and leave Wendy here by herself without you to protect her?"

With his fists still tightly clenched, Stan tried as hard as he could to calm himself. He knew Kyle was right. Wendy needed her boyfriend here, she needed him to look out for her. And as much as it had pained him, that's exactly what Stan had just done. It was only a game of football, after all. It was meaningless. Wendy was everything.

Staying quiet, Stan sighed as he gestured for Kyle's phone once more. He didn't stop to look at the photo as he re-opened the file and instantly hit the trash can in the bottom-right corner of the screen. The slimmest sense of guilty shame sat in the back of Kyle's mind at the thought of the photo ever coming into contact with his phone in the first place as he matched Stan's previous sigh.

"So, what are you gonna' say to her?"

Bringing his eyes up to meet his best friend's, Stan frowned, almost shooting daggers at him as he shook his head, "Are you kidding me?" he asked, "Kyle, I can't say anything to her, it'll kill her."

Kyle was taken aback for a moment, "Well, yeah, okay, but don't you think you should at least warn – "

"No," Stan defiantly cut in, "No, dude, I don't want her to even know that he threatened to do it, let alone proved that he was serious. It nearly completely destroyed her life the first time, Kyle, I'm not going to let him come close to a second attempt."

The fear and pain and affection and love that Kyle could hear splintering altogether in Stan's throat made his chest ache. Did he agree with what Stan was going to go out and do on the football field that afternoon? Of course he did. But did he think that leaving Wendy in the dark about the entire ordeal was the best thing to do?

"I don't want you saying anything to anyone about this, dude, especially not Wendy. Or Bebe. Okay?" Stan sharply urged him, "Promise me?"

Kyle wasn't sure. He wasn't sure if keeping quiet was the right thing, and he wasn't sure if Stan was even thinking straight anymore. But with the mood that he oldest friend was in, the red-head certainly wasn't willing to try and challenge Stan any further.

"Yes, dude, okay," Kyle muttered half-heartedly, "I swear."

Well uh-oh...

What's up lovely readers! I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and are anxiously awaiting to see what could possibly happen next...!

Juuuust quickly - I see that a couple of you have been asking about Cartman and Kenny and seeing some more development with them... unfortunately, for this story the other two boys are just background characters who popped up when needed. I hope that doesn't deter any of you from this tale! It just happens to revolve around the two beautiful little couples, particularly Stan and Wendy, obvs :)

Anyway! Get excited, because I've already started writing the next chapter... hopefully I'll be seeing you all again soon :)

Please leave me a review and let me know what you all think!

Till next time guys,

Reneyyyyyyyyy x