Chapter Thirty-Seven - New Normal.
Wendy shuffled where she sat, still feeling somewhat uncomfortable in her chair. She blew out the softest possible sigh from in between her lips. The past forty-five minutes felt like they had stretched on forever, and the teenage girl was utterly counting down the seconds until the school bell would finally ring, end the day's last period and send her home.
"Is there something else on your mind?"
The sound of her counsellor's voice suddenly snapped Wendy from her deep trance and made her flick her eyes away from the clock that hung on the wall.
Her expression was blank for a moment as Wendy quietly stared back at the curious glance that Miss Armstrong was directing at her. The counsellor wasn't a super young woman, but she wasn't necessarily all that old, either. Wendy guessed that she was probably in her late thirties. Her brown hair was tied up in a neat bun on the back of her head, and she had an incredibly kind expression accompanied by soft, blue eyes.
Considering that this was only the first of her assigned meetings with the school counsellor, Miss Armstrong had certainly done a pretty remarkable job of making Wendy feel less nervous and more willing to open up. The stubborn teenage girl had made no secret about the fact that she was only there to quell her parents concerns and make them happy.
At first, though, Wendy wasn't even sure if pleasing her mum and dad was going to be worth all the initial feelings that evoked within her. It had almost felt like the four walls of the tiny office were closing in on her, inch by inch getting closer and closer and slowly suffocating her soul.
And yet, eventually, Wendy soon saw just how much Miss Armstrong was doing to try to give her all the space she needed to breathe. It had made it so much easier for the teenager to talk about what had happened to her and what she was feeling inside.
And besides, the dark haired girl also still remembered what Stan had told her. If she wanted this to work, she had to be willing to open up.
As far as Wendy was concerned, though, the quicker she discussed everything that she possibly could; the lesser number of these sessions she would be forced to attend.
"Uh... not really," Wendy spoke, answering Miss Armstrong's last question, "Nothing in particular."
Miss Armstrong nodded her head, "So, you'd say the photo on his phone is what's affected you the most?"
Wendy shot the older woman an obvious expression as she tried to force back a condescending frown.
In the time between her first reluctant step through the office door and the very moment where she sat now, Wendy had pretty much gone cover to cover with Miss Armstrong and explained her distressing story of Malibu and Griffin from start to finish. Well, for the most part, anyway. The teenage girl had recounted everything that happened from the time she started dating Griffin, right up until her confrontation with him on the weekend.
She had left out some details... but they weren't all that important. Wendy didn't think so. She very much doubted that she had any hidden emotions or demons yet to be uncovered, anyway. Wendy knew and felt everything single, tiny thing that had happened to her. She had accepted it, and she had moved on.
"Well, yeah," the teenager spoke, answering the question about her photo, "Because it was my fault. I never should have let him take it - I could've stopped all of this from ever happening."
Miss Armstrong was scribbling down in her notebook as Wendy spoke. Without taking her eyes off the page, the older woman countered the teen's words, "But you weren't the one who hit the send button when he decided to forward that image on to the majority of your school."
Wendy paused.
"Well... no..."
"And you certainly can't be blamed for the reason why you broke up with him."
A sick lump instantly hitched in the back of Wendy's throat. Her silence stretched on even further as all words vanished from her mind. No-one had ever spoken with her about that terrifying encounter with Griffin with such direct purpose, not ever.
And hearing it right now from out of the blue was leaving Wendy completely unsure of how to react.
All that Wendy could picture, and all that she could feel, was the image and the sensation of what Griffin had been doing to cause her to slap him across the face and end their relationship. For the first time in a very, very long time as she re-imagined the devastating feeling of Griffin's forceful weight on top of her, her stomach churned. She remembered how foul his breath had been in her ear and how dangerously close he had come to undoing the fly of her denim shorts.
Before the teenage girl could even realise what she was thinking or doing or saying, the sickness within her spewed from her mouth in the form of a sentence.
"I shouldn't be allowed to be upset about that..."
Cutting herself right off, Wendy's eyes abruptly widened as she snapped her head up to find Miss Armstrong gazing at her with even more concern.
Taking a quiet moment, the counsellor licked her lips and smiled at Wendy through her eyes in an attempt to console her, "What do you mean by that?"
Wendy's chest felt heavy as she tried to control the rapidness of her breathing, "I... uh... I just..."
"You understand that what he tried to do to you was wrong?"
"Yeah, of course," Wendy retorted, almost exasperated. She blew out a long sigh. Wendy knew exactly what her mind was telling her and exactly what she was trying to say. The only problem was, she had never said it out loud before. And she never thought that she would ever have to.
Sensing her counsellor's eyes absolutely pierce her in the gentlest possible way, Wendy shuddered. She wasn't quite sure how this woman had so easily dragged this many new thoughts and expressions out of her heart and soul, but despite all her uncertainties, Wendy sucked in one deep, courageous breath.
"I just feel... like... any other girl who had this happen to them would be so scarred and probably never be able let another guy touch them ever again," she mused, "But... my boyfriend and I - "
Stopping herself once again, Wendy sharply bit her tongue.
Miss Armstrong tilted her head with a soft smirk, "You have a boyfriend?"
Wendy cringed inwardly. As crazy as it might have sounded, some of those previously mentioned details that the teenage girl felt weren't important enough to be brought to light may or may not have included the existence of her boyfriend.
She wasn't even entirely sure why, but something inside of her had desperately told Wendy to leave Stan out of all this and not involve him in anything she spoke about.
But now, she had completely caught herself out.
Wendy quietly nodded her head, watching as the smile remained on Miss Armstrong's face.
"What's his name?"
Wendy sighed again, this time in defeat.
"Stan."
"Oh," Miss Armstrong exclaimed, "The school quarterback?"
Wendy nodded.
"Is it okay if we talk about him?"
A cold sense of nervousness ran throughout Wendy's core at the counsellor s delicate request. She and Stan were in such a perfect and happy place that she wasn't sure if she wanted to risk saying anything or hearing anything from Miss Armstrong that was going to change the way she was feeling about their relationship. Or about him.
"You're obviously much happier with him than you were with Griffin?"
The utterly absurd sound of this statement caused Wendy to suffer another slip of her tongue, "There's no comparison."
Taking her reply as a sign to proceed, Miss Armstrong nodded her head, "So, you thought what Griffin did to you would make it hard to become intimate with any other boy - but now you don't feel that way about Stan?"
It felt so surreal to hear out loud.
As much as she had never admitted it to anyone - not even Bebe - that was exactly what Wendy had been feeling ever since she had gotten back together with Stan.
After what had happened to her that evening with Griffin in his bedroom, Wendy had felt so horribly damaged and taken advantage of. But that all changed the very moment that she completely gave up herself and her body to Stan the night he took her back.
The teenage girl had done everything she could to forget about her abused feelings. It was only fair. Wasn't it? Wendy shuddered to imagine the number of girls who remained so fragile and introverted and isolated after an event of similar heartbreak. Even worse than that would surely be the many of whom who would then go on to never have any successful relations with a man ever again.
But that hadn't happened with Wendy. So what right did she have to still feel so upset about it all?
"He's everything to me, and... I mean... we've done everything, so."
The counsellor frowned at the defiant nature of Wendy s argument, "How long have you two been together?"
Wendy stuttered for a second with a cynical grin, "That's, uh... that's a little complicated," she admitted, feeling her smirk fade, "When I left South Park... I left him, too."
The intelligent cogs in Miss Armstrong's mind continued to turn. She examined every minute aspect of the teenager's body language and expression in her face. The older woman paused for a moment, thinking quietly to herself before she suddenly closed her notebook. She placed it and her pen down on the small table between the two sofa chairs and locked her appearance back to Wendy's.
The counsellor didn't need any text books or learning materials to be able to figure out exactly what was going on here.
"But Stan managed to forgive you?"
The sentiment made Wendy's chest soar with incredible gratefulness.
"Yeah... yeah, he did."
A curious smirk upturned in the corner of Miss Armstrong's lips. Bingo.
"Then why haven't you been able to forgive yourself?"
In this instant, Wendy's heart skidded to a complete and utter halt.
All conceivable expression fell from her face as her skin turned a pale white. She tried a couple of times to ask herself the same question, but the thought of it all caused such a revelation in Wendy that she was totally unable to comprehend an answer or form a sentence.
Crap. Had she really been suppressing this much emotion and denying it the entire time?
All of a sudden, the high pitched sound of the school bell went ricocheting throughout the corridors. Wendy jumped in slight surprise, being viciously shaken from her trance. She glanced up at Miss Armstrong for a second, before shying away and shooting her vision down to her school bag.
She took a firm hold of one of the straps in her hand. The teenage girl had every intention to bolt up from the sofa, march towards the office door and go home without saying another word, but the older woman quickly had other ideas.
Miss Armstrong reached for Wendy, taking her by the shoulder and coaxing her to stay in her seat, "Wendy..." she eased her, smiling at her comfortingly again, "Do you know what I'm seeing in you?"
Still too rattled to speak, all that Wendy could do was relax slightly under the woman's friendly grasp and settle back into her seat. Miss Armstrong cleared her throat, moving back into her own sofa chair.
"I'm seeing a lot of guilt," she revealed, "And whether you realise it or not, you're not going to be able to let go of those guilty feelings until you forgive yourself for hurting Stan."
As quiet as Wendy remained, Miss Armstrong had her undivided attention. She was consuming and processing every single word and thought that the older woman had. Because Wendy knew that she was absolutely right. About everything.
Even on Sunday night, and every night shared with him before that, Wendy was able to take undeniable comfort in seeing Stan peacefully sleeping beside her, but these feelings were always overshadowed by something much more ominous. And that was the need that she felt to hug him tightly and hold him close out of fear that she would one day lose him again.
But only now was Wendy learning that maybe all those ridiculous thoughts of hers weren't built on jealousy or anxiety. Maybe they had evolved from guilt.
"And you don't need to feel guilty about getting intimate with your boyfriend, or with anybody. Wendy, you've been strong enough to stop Griffin's actions from controlling your future. You should embrace that," the counsellor went on, "You are allowed to feel happy, and you are allowed to feel safe. And you're certainly allowed to share yourself with who you feel is the right person."
Feeling her cheeks flush in hot shades as all the colour ran back into her face, Wendy sensed the greatest feeling of relief flow throughout her body and fill her soul. It was indescribable for her to finally understood - even a little more - about everything that had happened and how it had made her react and feel.
Smiling at the clear reprieve in Wendy's features, the older woman leant down to pick up her school bag for her. The bell had rung a minute or two ago now, and Miss Armstrong didn't want to keep her any longer.
But, at the same, it certainly wasn't the final meeting that she wanted to have with the teenage girl.
"Same time Thursday?" she asked, handing Wendy's backpack to her.
Taking the bag from her and flinging it over her right shoulder, Wendy smiled back at the brunette woman with thankful eyes, "I'll be here."
The two shared one last appreciative glance before Wendy made her way to the wooden door, happily ripping it open and stepping out into the school hallway. As truly supportive and enlightening as the last hour had been for her, the raven haired beauty just couldn't wait to get home now.
And more importantly, she couldn't wait to be back in the presence of who she was going home with.
Racing down the corridor, Wendy rounded a couple of corners here and there until she reached the row of lockers inhabited by the eleventh grade students. She stopped in her tracks, peering across the wide hallway of the school. For a moment, she swore that she couldn't will her legs to move any further, despite how desperately she wanted them to. She was simply frozen in a new found awe and appreciation for her boyfriend.
Her sweet, loving, humble, understanding, forgiving boyfriend.
As Stan shoved one last textbook into the depths of his schoolbag, he slammed his locker door shut and turned around, just in time to spot Wendy cheerfully bounding towards him.
"Oh, hey, how did it - "
Before he could even complete his concerned question, Stan's expression widened to find Wendy's joyful skips towards him developing into full blown leaps. With a beautiful smile of ecstasy spread across her lips, Wendy threw herself at Stan, jumping into his arms. He grunted slightly as he caught her, trying not to topple over as he hugged her around her waist.
"Whoa..." he murmured, placing her back on the ground. But still, Wendy didn't pull back from him.
Stan felt an uncontrollable grin cross him as his girlfriend tightened her affectionate embrace around him. She buried her head in his chest as he looked down at her. His appearance fell for a minute, suddenly wondering if there was something upsetting her.
"What's going on?" he asked with a hopeful chuckle.
Squeezing him for a second longer, Wendy finally lifted her face up from Stan's torso. She brought one hand out from around him and gently placed it on the back of his neck.
"Nothing. I just..." she trailed off for what was only half a second. And then, Wendy simply beamed at him, "I just love you."
The devotion in Wendy s words sent Stan s stomach spiraling into an array of butterflies. They were flying around so viciously in his guts that he almost sensed the incredibly familiar feeling of nervous vomit forming in his throat.
But somehow, he was able to force it back down as his blue orbs melted into the brown of Wendy's and his smile shone right back at hers. He managed to wriggle his arms out of her tight hold on him and cupped her cheeks for an adoring few seconds before taking a gentle grasp at her shoulders.
"I love you, too."
Not that it hadn t been nice to hear, or that Wendy needed an excuse to tell him that she loved him, but Stan still wondered if there was something extra that had brought the spontaneous moment on.
Moving his hands back to her slender torso, he tugged her back in for another hug, "Is everything okay? How was your session with Miss Armstrong?"
"It was fine," Wendy answered him. She shuffled back again so she was able to re-lock her vision with his, "More than fine, actually it was really good. I'll fill you in when we get home?"
A protective sense of relief caused Stan to sigh in subtle happiness. He had been sort of anxious about Wendy all afternoon. He remembered all too well how daunting his first counselling session had felt back in the ninth grade, and he hated to think that his girlfriend was experiencing all those same intimidating emotions.
But now after hearing that everything had actually ran rather smoothly, all that Stan could do was smile at Wendy, "Anything you want."
And as she smiled right back at him, the teenage boy could feel himself temptingly leaning closer and closer in towards her beautiful grin. His heart skipped a beat as Wendy let slip an excited giggle and her deliciously hot breath bounced off of Stan s lips. Her hand was still fastened to the back of his neck while he wrapped his arms around her hips and delicately met his mouth with hers.
The softness and tenderness in his kiss drove Wendy's senses crazy, certainly way crazier than any amount of raw seduction and arousal ever could. His pure ability to be kind and romantic thwarted any of those other emotions in a heartbeat.
But, on the other hand, that didn't make those same intimacies any less enjoyable.
Right as Stan let out a heavy breath and Wendy brushed against his lips with the end of her tongue, the two suddenly sprung apart at the sound of her phone chiming out loud at the arrival of a text message.
Groaning in annoyance, Wendy pulled the small device from her pocket. She took a quick look around the halls. The bell had to have rung about five or so minutes ago by now, and there weren't too many students left milling around the corridor.
"It's probably Bebe wondering where the hell we are," Wendy commented, opening the unread message, "Oh, no, wait, it's Red. I left my purse down in the library."
"What's she still doing in the library?" Stan asked as the young couple slowly began to stroll along.
"She's staying back to study for the math test we have on Friday," she answered, "Apparently there s a few people in our grade doing the same thing."
As Stan simply nodded his head, he reached his hand down and took a hold of Wendy's, lacing their fingers together while they walked towards the library. They continued with some sweet chatter, trying their best to steer away from any serious topics until they were back home and alone in one of their bedrooms.
Wendy quickly dashed through the double glass doors of the library while Stan waited outside for her. Her chocolate coloured eyes scanned the many different seats and few faces filling the wide, open space, until Wendy finally spotted Red sitting at one of the tables in the middle of the room.
The dark haired girl weaved her way through the maze of seating arrangements, smiling at her friend as she finally approached her, "Hey girl," she exclaimed, "Thanks for not letting me leave without it."
"That's okay," Red replied, fishing down into her bag for Wendy s wallet before handing it to her.
"How's the studying going?"
"Ugh, do not even get me started," she groaned, "I mean, I feel like I m learning the stuff, or whatever, but it's just taking such a long time."
Wendy chuckled with sympathy for her vibrant, red-headed friend, "Well, hey, if you d like me to stay back one afternoon this week and help out, just give me the word."
Red smiled up at the teenage girl opposite her before she started for the main door of the library again, "Thanks, Wendy."
"I'll talk to you later," Wendy called back. She headed towards the exit, needlessly scanning the faces of the other students trying to catch up on their work and study for the upcoming quiz.
That was when Wendy came to a sudden, screeching halt.
Gulping back an uneasy lump that was abruptly sitting in her throat, Wendy blew out a steady breath as she quietly shuffled behind the chair in which Darcy was seated.
The two teenage girls hadn't confronted each other again since Darcy and her friends swooped on Wendy at the mall the previous week. And amongst all the clarity and peace within herself that the dark haired girl had discovered that afternoon, Wendy was certain that she didn't want to wind up in another heated argument with the Middle Park girl anytime soon.
Just as Wendy had almost made it back out into the main hall of the school, she heard a frustrated sigh escape the auburn haired beauty behind her. Wendy froze on the spot again, feeling the most peculiar sense of curiosity cross her as she peered over her shoulder at Darcy.
There were two or three different math textbooks open on the desk all around her as Darcy hopelessly tried to solve even one of the difficult equations staring back at her.
Wendy felt a knot tighten in her stomach. Even from where she was standing, she could clearly read Darcy's working and see exactly where she was going wrong. The teenage girl bit down on her bottom lip with indecision. Deep down, Wendy knew that Darcy hadn't just lost a friend with benefits in Stan - she had lost a tutor and a strong supporter, as well.
And if Miss Armstrong had shown Wendy anything just now, it was that she needed to learn to be more forgiving. Forgiving of herself, and forgiving of others.
Taking one wary step forward, Wendy bravely cleared her throat and picked up a lead pencil that was sitting beside Darcy's open book.
The red-head frowned for a second before glancing up and feeling her appearance turn completely blank and the sight of Wendy leaning over her.
There was a stubborn, and slightly uncertain stalemate between the two girls for what felt like a lifetime. Taking the first move, Wendy began to silently scribble down a few notes beside Darcy's work.
Darcy watched her as she did, feeling herself grow more and more confused until the moment where Wendy placed the pencil back down and brought her voice to a gentle tone, "Try it this way."
Reading what Wendy had written down, Darcy's eyes widened in surprise as the equations in front of her suddenly started to make a little more sense.
She had no idea what to say. Darcy had been ready to bet anything after her abusive confrontation with Stan that Wendy would have been itching to attack her with a million and one worse insults. And yet, as she glanced up at the raven haired beauty and failed to notice even the slimmest sense of anger in her, Darcy felt herself almost smiling.
"Thanks."
Wendy shocked herself even further as she smirked right back, "Don't mention it."
Stan continued to loiter outside the library, pacing back and forth as he waited for Wendy. He turned on his heels to impatiently gaze through the doors, wondering what was taking her so long.
The second that he spotted her standing beside Darcy, his heart dropped with a thud in the pit of his stomach, immediately assuming the worst.
Without even thinking about what he was doing, Stan shot through the entry to the library like a bullet, making a direct beeline for Wendy and Darcy. The two girls didn't even realise the rate at which they were being crept up on as Wendy jumped in surprise at the sensation of a protective hand latching onto her arm.
"What's going on?" Stan asked firmly, pulling Wendy a step closer to him.
"Nothing," she answered, tugging away from his grasp with an innocent giggle, "Nothing, its all good."
The most intense bewilderment washed over Stan as he felt his brow furrow in a distrusting frown. He examined the calm faces of both girls in front of him, and then directed his eyes down to Darcy's notebook, instantly recognising Wendy's handwriting. He sighed with relief, thankful that he didn't have to drag himself back down to the low level at which he had stooped during his last argument with his ex-fling.
At this thought, Stan nervously brought his eyes up to find the pale brown of Darcy's. He shuddered and felt himself cringe in guilt at her empty appearance and the hurt that still stung in the ghostly white of her skin.
Stan wanted to kick himself. He couldn't remember the exact final words that he had thundered at Darcy on Thursday morning, but what he did recall was how much they had emabarrassed her and made her cry. He never wanted to be that kind of a person - as much as Darcy may have provoked him and just managed to push him over the edge, Stan knew that it was actually all the fighting between he and Wendy that had truly brought out the worst in him.
He didn't want Darcy to think that he hated her.
Sucking in a nervous breath, Stan brushed his hand against Wendy's again, skimming her fingertips as he gazed at her with a gentle, pleading expression, "Can you just give us one second?"
Darcy's heart froze in her chest. She could barely believe what she had just heard. Flicking her vision back and forth between the expressions on Stan and Wendy's faces, she waited with a breath held in. She could see all too clearly that Stan was doing much of the same, hoping quietly to himself that Wendy would understand what he was truly trying to ask her and not completely flip out.
After a moment that felt almost endless, Wendy visibly swallowed her pride as her head moved up and down in one small nod, "Okay."
As he watched his girlfriend selflessly turn around on the spot and head towards the exit of the library, Stan allowed his lungs to empty in relief. But, of course, as he cast his eyesight back down at Darcy, the moment was only extremely short lived.
Darcy was staring at Stan's mouth rather than his blue eyes, for no other reason other than the fact that she simply couldn't bare to gaze into his soul like the way she used to.
A silence fell between them. Stan sort of knew exactly what he wanted to say to Darcy... he just didn't particularly know how to say it.
As he tried to untangle all his thoughts as best he could, Stan finally pulled out the chair beside Darcy, breaking the quiet in the library as it scraped along the carpet.
Turning sideways in the seat to look at her, Stan licked his lips and peered into the familiar features of her face, "I am sorry."
A long awaited jolt of happiness went racing like electricity through Darcy's veins. The fact that Stan was still able to apologise to her after what she had done and said to he and Wendy was unbelieveable to her.
"Me too," she softly admitted, "I never should have listened to all the bitchy, evil shit the girls were telling me. They turned me into a total psycho."
"Yeah, well I should have been mature enough to just ignore you. You being a psycho turned me into a psycho," Stan offered with a joking chuckle. He felt his chest swell in happiness to hear Darcy echo his laughter for a quiet moment, until her expression began to fade once more.
Stan stifled a second guilty sigh. He knew all along that just saying 'sorry' probably wasn't going to cut it.
"You didn't mean nothing to me, Darcy."
Bringing her head up from where it was sadly facing her lap, Darcy's heart skipped a beat. Her eyes widened and some faint colour ran back to her cheeks as she stared at Stan in disbelief. His words - words that Darcy thought she would never, ever hear - etched themselves in the back of her mind as the boy opposite her carried on.
"I met you at, like... probably the shittiest time in my entire life," he said, pausing with another small laugh, "I was just about ready to swear off girls forever... but then you showed me there's still some good ones out there."
Darcy's lips finally well and truly parted into a genuine smile as Stan continued to speak. As much as she may have felt used over these last couple of weeks, and as much as her friends had tried to convince her how much of a player Stan was, Darcy impulsively felt the mountains of regret in her mind collapse and crumble away at his sweet words.
All she had wanted to know was that she hadn't been a meaningless waste of his time, and now by some thankful turn of events, Darcy could be assured of this.
But, at the same time - without wanting to push her luck too much - there was still one last question Darcy had for Stan.
Taking in one of the deepest breaths she had ever succumb to, Darcy pushed the loose strands of auburn hair behind her ears. She wasn't sure if she was going to receive the answer she was looking for, but even so, she sighed with a gentle smile, "If she..." she trailed off for a second, "If Wendy had never come back... Could I have ever been her?"
As soon as the final word left her, Stan paused, staring at Darcy as he hesitated.
But he wasn't hesitating his answer. Only about how to deliver it to her.
"...Maybe we could have been something," he began comfortingly. In the next instance, he defiantly cleared his throat with a firm expression, "But no-one could ever be her."
After giving herself a moment of acceptance, Darcy soon only nodded her head. She had a sneaking suspicion Stan's response would be something along those lines.
"She's a lucky girl, Stan."
The quiet settled back in between them as Stan chose not to say anything more. Instead, he offered Darcy one final friendly and affectionate smile as he stood up from the seat and turned back towards the door.
He took a first step forward, repeating to himself what Darcy had just spoken. In the weirdest kind of way, it sort of made him cringe. Wendy told him all the time how lucky she felt to have him, and the pair had both heard it from multiple other people, too.
But Stan felt like he was far luckier than her. After all, against all the odds in the world, Wendy had been the one to find her way back across the country, back to her old school, and back to him. Stan could never have dreamed of anything more perfect.
Despite the fact, of course, that the both of them were far, far from perfect.
In fact, as far as Stan was concerned, Darcy wasn't missing out on too much at all.
Glimpsing back over his shoulder at her, Stan smirked, "You'll find someone who deserves you, Darcy."
Without giving her the chance to say anything else beyond the elated grin she was still shooting his way, Stan took his final exit from the library and re-approached Wendy in the corridor.
He gulped a little, bracing himself for her interrogation of him. He didn't want her to think that he had any residual feelings for Darcy left over, but surely Wendy would be able to understand why Stan needed to clean his tarnished slate with her.
Just as he concocted an argument similar to this in his mind, Stan felt a wave of surprise flood his brain to find Wendy with her back to him as she happily chatted away on the phone. Turning back around, Wendy giggled for a second at Stan's adorably confused frown before refocusing her attention back to the voice in her ear.
"Okay, sweet, we'll see you soon," she spoke, "Okay, bye."
Watching her as she hung up her cell phone, part of Stan was still sort of waiting for Wendy to start firing a million and one questions at him about Darcy. But as Wendy completely shrugged off the thought, she decided that she didn't need to know what had transpired between the two of them.
Everything that she ever needed to know from Stan was evident in his eyes when he told her he loved her.
"That was Bebe, she and Kyle are on their way to the mall," she exclaimed happily, "Do you wanna' meet them there?"
Remaining quiet for a moment or two, Stan simply gazed upon Wendy. He was in awe of the strongest sense of trust that he had ever felt between them - the strongest in nine whole years. It was a feeling that he could definitely get used to, and certainly one that he would try his damnedest to ensure never slipped from either of them ever again.
Taking a step towards her, Stan draped a loving arm around Wendy's shoulders and he began to lead the both of them out of the school, "I don't mind, it's up to you."
Wendy nuzzled her head in the crook of Stan's shoulder for a second or two while they walked down the hall, "Hmm," she hummed, "How about we go to the mall for a little while, and then have dinner at yours?"
Stan smiled, "Perfect."
The one word response from him sent goosebumps exploding up Wendy's arms.
Perfect. Everything kind of did feel perfect. Even more perfect than how Wendy felt the night Stan took her back. Never did she imagine that she would be be in the strongest place ever with the guy of her dreams and be double dating with their two best friends.
Despite how surreal it all was and how far she had come, though, Wendy knew she still had a long, long way to go.
Escaping the more dull realities of her life for an hour or two at the mall with her friends and her boyfriend would be nice, but the teenage girl still wanted to take the time that night to talk to Stan about what happened during her session with Miss Armstrong. And having a conversation like that was definitely better suited at his house where Wendy's mother wouldn't be able to barge in on her and find her inevitably upset as she spoke about everything.
That would all come later, though. Wendy shook off the thought as best she could, slinking her arm around Stan's waist and hugging him back before he pushed open the main door of the school for her and took a hold of her hand again.
This was definitely the kind of new normality that Wendy wanted to continue to hold onto, for the rest of her and Stan's life.
But that didn't mean she had to let go of things from the past, either. Firstly, she was never going to forget the consequences of letting anyone else interfere in their relationship. Secondly, she would always remember the importance of relinquishing her insecurities and self-guilt.
And lastly, no matter how old they got or how hard either of them tried - some things from Stan and Wendy's past would simply never, ever change.
"You didn't ever throw up on her, right?"
"Never even came close."
"...Good."
One final chapter down, two to go...
Hello dear readers! What did we all think of this new installment? Isn't it nice for Stan and Darcy to forgive each other and get back onto a civil page?
Also, now that Wendy's well and truly back on the mend, do we think her and Stan and fixed for good now?
Hm. Only two chapters to go, let's all see what happens from here and how everything ends! :)
Till next time guys,
Reneyyyyyyyyyy x