Chapter Text
Eighth grade brought many changes to thirteen-year-old Stan Marsh. After a tense Thanksgiving meal, his parents announced they were getting a divorce. Stan and his sister Shelly were both used to this kind of bullshit from their parents. But Sharon and Randy proved they were serious once New Year’s hit. Sharon moved into a new house in South Park, taking Stan and Shelly with her.
The house was a modest, three-bedroom two bathroom affair. Shelly was never home anymore, a new boyfriend and place to be was always her excuse. Sharon accepted a new job as a labor and delivery nurse at Hell’s Pass Hospital. She worked the night shift. Stan was left mostly on his own and he enjoyed it.
He and Kyle had grown apart since Stan moved to the farm. Now he was back in town, a ten-minute walk away from Kyle’s house. A chance for the boys to hang out all the time like the old days. Sure, they weren’t neighbors anymore, Kyle was happy his super best friend was living in town again. Stan appreciated the space his new neighborhood gave him. The solitude was nice for a few months, until Stan got lonely again.
Stan started talking to David Rodriguez in karate class. They realized they liked the same music and had a similar sense of humor. David shyly invited him to his house for a sleepover after practice. It has been a long time since either boy had made a connection with someone outside of their main friend group.
Stan had a little friction with Kyle over this, he hadn’t even spent the night at Kyle’s house in ages. Kyle tried to argue but Stan shut him down saying he would see him at baseball practice the next day.
David thought South Park was a weird fucking town to live in and he never fully felt like he belonged. The racism bothered him; Colorado was way worse than Idaho. He found himself getting into hobbies outside of school and kind of kept to himself. He realized he and Stan kept having more and more in common and this was the first time he invited any new friend to his house in ages. His parents were excited to meet one of their son’s friends.
Right now, David’s mom, Veronica had him mop the floor and straighten up the living room since they were expecting company. Of course, David’s mom played Cumbia music while they cleaned. Hopefully Stan wouldn’t judge too much. David was used to and grew up to his mom's music, but he knew how this town was. He hoped he wouldn’t regret inviting a friend into his home life.
Stan threw his backpack aside as he entered home after school. “Mom? Hey, Mom!” He called into the open house, not knowing If his mom was home now. She worked longer hours now at her job, so Stan never knew when she was home or awake.
Sharon emerged from the top of the stairs, eyes sleepy and in a bathrobe. “Hi, Stan. Remember I have work tonight.”
“Sorry for waking you, Mom.” Stan grinned sheepishly, the red and blue bands of his braces showing. “I’ll be out of your hair in a bit. I’m going to spend the night at a friend’s house tonight. That cool?” Stan headed into the kitchen and looked into the pantry.
Sharon nodded sleepily. “Who?” She called back. It had been ages since her son had slept over at anyone’s house. “Kyle?”
“Huh? No Mom, Kyle and I aren’t married. We can do separate stuff. I’m going to David’s; you know that kid that I hang out with from karate? He invited me over tonight.”
“I don’t think I’ve met him. You have his parents’ number to give me just in case?” Sharon yawned again.
Stan rolled his eyes. “Mom, I’ll be fine, I’m thirteen years old now, remember? You don’t need to have the number of every one of my friends’ parents.”
“Stanley, you never know. We could have an emergency at home and need to contact you.” Sharon yawned again but she knew it would be hard to go back to sleep. She got up and sat across from Stan at the kitchen table. “You want a ride over at least? That way I know where David’s house is?”
“Yeah, I guess so. He’s at 4010 Mountain View Ave.” Stan looks in the fridge now. “Hey, Mom, we still have Bagel Bites, right?”
“Ok, Stanley. The sooner I can get you out of the house the sooner I can go back to sleep. It’ll be a long night at the hospital. Why don’t you eat some fruit or veggies instead?”
“You’re joking right? Oh, hey maybe I can dip bananas into some Nutella! Good thinking, Mom!” Stan started rummaging in the fridge.
“Stanley....is Nutella good for your braces?”
“Um, yes?” Stan looked at her weirdly.
“Just...brush your teeth after you eat. You don’t want extra time at the orthodontist because you’re not being responsible.” Sharon started to head to her room to get dressed.
“C’mon, Mom! I’m not a little kid anymore. I’m a teenager. I’m plenty responsible.” Stan shouted after her.
“You’re barely thirteen, Stanley. Wait until you’re seventeen like Shelly before you start talking to me about responsibility.”
At that moment the front door slammed, and Shelly entered. “Hi Mom, turd.” She looked in the fridge shoving Stan to the side.
“Hey!” Stan shouted, feeling very annoyed but trying to keep it under control. He needed his mom to give him a ride and if he got on her bad side, he’d be grounded the rest of the weekend. “Fine! Whatever. Move, Shelly. I’m hungry and was here first.”
“You take like an hour to figure out what to eat. At least close the fridge, you’re wasting electricity!”
Shelly shoved him aside again as she grabbed some cheese and grapes.
“Why the hell do you care?” Stan shot back.
“Why don’t you care?” Shelly sat down and popped a few grapes in her mouth.
“Why would I? I’m not paying for the electricity.” Stan argued, finally making a selection from the fridge of peanut butter and jelly.
“Oh, go eat a coconut, turd.” Shelly spat back.
“Shelly!” Sharon yelled. “Don’t even joke about that.”
“But Mom-” Shelly started.
“Shelly, I mean it. You were too afraid to visit your brother in the hospital. No, I don’t want to hear it. I deal with enough at work without imagining either of my children.” Sharon got a grip on herself.
Stan smirked as he made some chocolate milk to go with his peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
“Stanley, please, at least grab some grapes. That meal is all sugar.” Sharon scolded.
“Peanut butter isn’t sugary, Mom. I love grapes, I just don’t want any now. I’m fine, it’s not like I’m fat or anything. Go back to yelling at Shelly.” Stan said, now sitting at the kitchen table.
“I don’t want to share anyway.” Shelly glared at her brother as she grabbed her snack and headed to her room.
Sharon sat across from her son and shook her head. “There is more to your health than just your teeth and weight. Speaking of, do you have all your medicines with you if you’re spending the night with your friend?”
“Mom! Really, stop nagging me! I haven’t had a bad asthma attack in months.” Stan started.
“Stanley please, just throw it in your overnight bag. No one has to know, just for you and my own peace of mind.” Sharon pleaded with him.
“It’s all such a waste, I never use that Epi pen thing. I only need my inhaler and I’ll be good.” Stan looked down at his half-eaten sandwich, now too annoyed to finish it.
Maybe Shelly pushing her buttons had gotten to her. But Sharon would never get that image of little Stan laying in the ICU out of her mind. She went over and hugged her son. “Please just throw it in. It takes two seconds. Then I’ll get ready to take you over to your friend's house.”
Stan sighed, pushing his plate away. “‘Kay, I will. For you, mom.”
Half an hour later Sharon pulled up to David’s house. “You want me to go in and meet your new friend’s parents?”
“What? No way Mom that’s embarrassing. You saw his dad last week at karate pick up.” Stan goes to grab his duffel bag from the back seat.
“Fine. I need more sleep anyway.” She leans over and gives Stan a kiss on the cheek. “Have fun. Call me tomorrow when you need me to pick you up, remember baseball practice tomorrow afternoon.”
“‘Kay, thanks. See ya!” Stan slings his bag over his shoulder and goes to grab his guitar case as well. He wasn’t sure if David would want to play but it couldn’t hurt. Stan hesitated and made sure his mom drove away before he knocked on the Rodriguez family’s front door.
David was dusting and overheard. “Mom! Turn down your music!” He yelled as he went to answer the door, hoping the music wouldn’t blast his new friend as he opened the front door. “Hey, Stan.”
Stan smiled at his friend. “Hey, dude. Thanks for inviting me.”
David still felt embarrassed. “Sorry my mom won’t turn down her radio. Want to go hang out in my room?”
“Yeah man, whatever you want. Oh, I brought my guitar over in case you wanna jam later.” Stan lifted the sticker covered case to show David.
“Hell yeah. I can show you my family’s party room in the back. That would be a good place to play once you’re ready.” David grinned and let Stan in.
“Party room? How cool!”
“You want to see it?” David led Stan through the kitchen where his mom was cooking. Mrs. Rodriguez finally turned down the radio. “Hi Mijo. Well, introduce me to your friend.”
“Mom this is Stan Marsh from karate class, Stan is this my mom.” David said.
“Hi, Mrs. Rodriguez.” Stan held out his hand to shake hers. “Thank you for inviting me. Dinner smells really good.”
She shook his hand and pulled him into a hug much to Stan’s surprise. “No problem, hito. I hope you’re hungry. I'm making carnitas, cabalcitas, frijoles y papas. Tres leches cake for dessert.”
David gets a little uncomfortable, doesn’t want to tell his mom to speak English in front of his friend but looks carefully for any weird reaction from Stan.
Stan smiled much to David’s relief. “Oh hey, I love carnitas! Thank you!”
“I was gonna show him la sala grande, Mom.” David said.
“Ok hito, be careful!” Mrs. Rodriguez called as David led Stan through a sunroom full of plants into the backyard. There was a stand-alone shed in the backyard. “Ready to check it out?” David asked.
Stan nodded. “You bet! This house is pretty sweet so far.”
David smiled. “This is why my parents wanted this house.” He pushed open the door to a large space.
There was a pool table in the middle, a makeshift bar in one corner. “My dad and I built that. My mom would kill me if we touched the liquor, but we can make homemade sodas.”
On the other side of the room sat a large couch with a big screen tv and a slightly raised platform with a drum kit, keyboard, a few guitars and a karaoke machine. “Again, my dad’s. The karaoke is for my mom. When we have a party, this is where we have it.”
Stan looked around the room in awe. “Oh, wow this is all so cool. I don’t have anything this cool in my house.” Stan walks over to the bar. “You said you can make your own sodas?”
“Yeah, we have this machine that adds bubbles and carbonation, and we add fruit to it. My parents will make it and add liquor, but we can make virgin ones.” David shows Stan a mini fridge filled with coconut milk, maraschino cherry, seltzer water, mint, lemon, lime, and cucumber. “It’s fun to make random combos and figure out what’s good.”
“That’s so cool man. I love soda. I never thought about creating my own. Although I’ll skip the cherries and coconut.” Stan looks over the various instruments and sets his guitar case down.
“We could play with my dad's instruments if we’re careful or sing karaoke. Or watch tv or play pool. Maybe my mom will let us sleep in here for the night.” David started looking over the instruments, deciding what to play.
Stan started to pull his guitar out of its case. “You know, I was kind of kicking around the idea of putting a band together soon. I did before when I was ten, but it didn’t go anywhere. Now that I’m a little better at guitar and singing it would be cool to do it again.”
“I always wanted to be in a metal band.” David stopped for a bit. “If you need people.”
“Sure! Well, I don’t have anyone yet. What all can you play?” Stan asked.
“Well, this is embarrassing but what would you want me to play? My dad was in Tejano band. That’s how he met my mom. He taught me all he could play so I know a little of everything. He thinks hard rock or metal is annoying. I think my parents' music is annoying but it’s what I learned on.” David looks at Stan carefully to see if his new friend would think that is weird.
“That’s really cool. A good metal band needs someone with a lot of energy and vocals. I can play acoustic and electric guitar, although focusing more on electric at the moment. I asked my friend Jimmy if he wants to reprise his role on drums, but he declined. He’s too busy at the gym to play in a band.” Stan shrugged as he started to tune his guitar.
“You want me on the drums then?” David asked.
Stan looked up at him. “Do you want to play drums?”
“Yeah of course, dude.” David starts to warm up at the drum kit and starts to play a beat. He starts slow and goes faster.
“Oh hey! That’s pretty cool so far, David.” Stan plugs his guitar into an amp. “Let’s try to keep up with each other.”
“No...let’s try to outdo each other.” David smiles.
An almost dark smile pulls at Stan’s lips. “You’re on, dude.” Stan felt very at ease right now. Music has always been a way to his soul, almost like a comforting hug. The faster the better and playing this fast and loud was therapeutic.
David starts slow with the buildup and waits for Stan’s cue to continue.
Stan faces David now as he plays, looking at his arms banging around on the drums. He is knocking it out of the park right now. Wanting to outdo David, Stan’s fingers fly up and down the neck of the guitar. This felt so good. He hadn’t touched his guitar in a few days since he had homework to catch up on but now, he felt back in the zone as the stress of the past few months melted away with the fast guitar riff.
David is slightly embarrassed again; his dad would watch him like this when he was teaching him to play. Instead of being annoyed and freezing he felt the push of the spirit of rebellion. This was the music that spoke to him and if it was Stan’s music too, he wanted to impress him. He played harder.
Stan has his tongue between his teeth as he head bangs as plays his guitar, still facing David. He tried to let go and shut his eyes. He felt the music take him over as he heard the slam of the drums. Any stupidity he faced in his day-to-day life was being smacked and torn down as those drums played and his guitar wailed in tune.
David can see Stan get into the music and goes even harder, trying to outdo him. He turns it up even faster to see if Stan can keep up.
Stan continues to keep the pace, feeling more and more in his element. This felt so good to him so far. Stan starts to take it slow before speeding up again. Yes, David could play but could he keep in the same melody as him?
David slows a bit to match Stan’s rhythm before he pushes himself one more time. He ends up with one of his drumsticks flying out of his hands and going across the room. “Oh, holy shit, dude.”
Stan stops and opens his eyes to watch the stick go sailing. “Hey, it happens. Do you know how many picks I’ve lost? Guitar strings I've broken? That was fun.”
“That was for the groupies. They can fight over it.” David laughs.
Stan tucks his long hair under his cap, it unstuck itself as he was head banging. He breathes hard as he looks at David. “So, want in?” Stan grins.
“If you’ll have me.” David said as he got up to retrieve the drumstick.
“Well, you’ll be the first official member. But hell yeah, if you want to be a part of the cliche boyhood dream of being in a rock band.” Stan pumped a fist.
“Anything to piss my dad off.” David laughed again.
“I hear that My dad can play too, just not as good as me. And it pisses him off.” Stan shakes his head.
“Another thing we have in common.” David laughed. “It’s almost seven. I think my dad might be home by now and my mom has dinner ready.”
“Ok cool. Playing hard like that works up my appetite.” Stan put his guitar carefully back in its case.
David put his drumsticks aside and got up. “Maybe my mom will let us take plates back here so we can keep playing while we eat.”
“Would she? I could easily spend all night here. You’re so cool, this will be fun.” Stan starts to follow David out of the room.
David shrugged. “Let’s ask. I don’t think they would be offended if we didn’t eat with them.” David crossed the backyard and through the sunroom back into the kitchen. “Hi Mom. Dinner ready? Oh, Dad, this is my friend Stan.”
Francisco Rodriguez looks down at the boy next to his son. “Hello, I’m David’s father. Nice to meet you ... Stan, is it?”
Stan is suddenly embarrassed again at Mr. Rodriguez’s formality. “Yeah, I’m all right. Um, how are you?”
Veronica set plates down. “Alright boys, serve yourselves.”
“Mom, can we eat back in la sala?” David asks.
“What, no hito. We want to get to know your new friend. You can take dessert back there if you’re good.” Veronica smiles as she passed out plates to everyone.
Francisco kisses his wife as he serves himself. “This looks amazing, mi amor. You outdid yourself this time.”
“Ay, papi.” Veronica kisses her husband back.
David makes a disgusted face. “Sorry dude.” He whispered to Stan.
“It’s fine, at least your parents love each other. Mine are going through their third divorce.” Stan rolls his eyes as he looks over the food spread out. A large plate of freshly cooked marinated pork, a pot of beans, fried and cut small potatoes, yellow squash mixed with corn, cheddar cheese and green chilies.
“I’m sorry about that, dude. We’ll help yourself, there’s plenty.” David shakes his head as he goes over and grabs a spoonful of carnitas, cabalacitas, papas y frijoles. He grabs a few fresh tortillas from the stove. “You want me to warm up your tortilla, Stan?”
“Yeah, thanks.” Stan joins David at the stove, watching him curiously.
David flicks on the stove and tosses a couple tortillas on the open flame. He expertly flips them so they’re crispy but not burned before he throws a few on Stan’s plate. “You wanna try?” He asks.
Stan nods. “Yeah, sure, what do I do exactly?”
“Ok so place the tortilla on the little metal part, and it will puff up. Once it starts to go down grab the corner and flip it and wait for it to puff up before you take it off the flame. It’s fun to play with fire for your food.” David laughs a bit.
“I’ve never really played around with fire for my food before. Although I want to learn more about cooking. I don’t want to be some lame twenty-year-old that doesn’t know a whisk from a spatula.” Stan looks at the yummy looking plate in his hand.
“Well, we have a restaurant, I think it’s second nature for me at this point. Go ahead, try.” David steps aside to see if Stan can do it.
Stan grabs a tortilla and gently places it on the stove, he waits for it to puff and flips it, but it falls to the floor. “Dammit! Sorry.”
David laughs and picks it up. “It’s ok. Wanna try again? After that my mom might get mad at wasting her tortillas.”
“Yeah sure, okay.” Stan grabs another tortilla and places it on the stove and watches it puff up. “Okay, is that looking good so far?”
“Yeah, the puff is going down, grab the corner and flip.” David instructs.
Stan grabs the corner and flips the other side, so it gets crispy. “Awesome!”
“Ok dude, grab it for your plate now before it burns. Great job though.” David does a little golf clap.
Stan tosses the tortilla on his plate, making sure not to drop it. “Thanks for showing me all about tortilla flipping, David.”
“Next time I’ll show you how to make them. No one can make them as good as my mom though.” David goes to sit down at the dining room table with his parents.
Stan follows and sits next to him. “My mom makes a killer Mac and cheese. I know it’s not as culturally exciting as tortillas but it’s still really good.”
“Tortillas are exciting?” David asks. “Maybe one day I’ll try your mom's Mac and cheese. I bet it is good.”
“Well, you know...you don’t see homemade tortillas as often being some white kid.” Stan blushes as he starts to load up a taco for himself. “This looks so good.”
“You don’t see homemade Mac and cheese being a brown kid.” David teases back.
“Ha, I guess I’ll give you that. But really dude it’s so good, the different cheeses she uses... and the spices... then she adds the breadcrumbs on top. When she wants to get extra fancy she tosses in cubed ham.” Stan takes a bite. “These tacos are amazing.”
“Oh, speaking of, be careful of the cabalacitas. I know my mom likes to add jalapeños to everything.” David warned as he made a taco for himself.
“Thanks for the warning. I can handle a bite of jalapeño but not a full face full of it.” Stan added a few more fixings to his taco.
“Why do you think I made sure we have plenty of tortillas?” David grinned.
Stan finishes off his carnitas taco. He loves them but hasn’t had any since getting his braces. It sure will be a pain picking at it later. He left his water flosser at home since it’s bulky. Nevertheless, he loads up another taco with carnitas, cheese, and guacamole.
Veronica is watching him carefully. “So, Stan. What do you think?”
David and his dad also look at Stan.
Stan swallows so he doesn’t talk with his mouth full. “This is delicious. so good Thank you Mrs. Rodriguez.” Stan winces as he chews, already feeling the meat going into his brackets.
“Please, call me Veronica, mijo. David tells me you’re in his karate class and you both play music.” She smiles, satisfied that everyone is enjoying her cooking.
“Yeah. It’s kind of funny, we knew each other before, a few years ago when you moved here. We played together a couple times but for some reason never hung out after.” Stan smiles at David.
David looks down. “Well, Mom. You wouldn’t let me play after I got shot by that cop.”
“David, please. We have company!” Veronica scolds him.
Stan looks at him. “Oh yeah, you were shot before huh. Sorry about that. I’ve been shot before, twice actually. It's never pleasant.”
“Another thing we have in common.” David looks away.
“Boys, you have to be careful. Think of your poor mothers.” Veronica says.
“Hey David, where did you get shot again exactly?” Stan asks.
David rolls up his sleeve to show a scar on his upper arm. “Right here. Was in the hospital for a week.”
“Mijo please, you know I don’t like talking about that.” Veronica got up to get more food. “It’s why I didn’t want you to play with those kids anymore.”
“Well mom, Stan was one of those kids.” David says.
“Yeah, I was shot twice.” Stan continues when David’s mom is out of earshot. “When I was eight, here.” He points to his left shoulder. “When I was ten here.” He points to his lower left arm.
“Damn dude. Don’t you ever get sick of hospitals?” David asks. “Colorado is so dangerous compared to Idaho.”
“Who wants dessert?” Veronica called from the kitchen.
“I do!” Stan yelled. “Well of course dude, I hate hospitals. Not like I ever go ‘you know what sounds fun today? Being poked and prodded by doctors and surrounded by bright lights and equipment and all that shit.’ I hate it.” Stan frowns.
“Me too man, I guess I was sick as a baby. My mom gets upset when I talk about it.” David says quietly.
Veronica came out a moment later with two pieces of tres leches cake and placed a piece in front of each boy. “Enjoy, mijos. David, you take your medicine yet?”
“Awww mom, not in front of my friend.” David moans. “I’ll be right back, Stan.” David leaves for a moment.
Stan wants to ask, thinking of the bag of medicine his mom made him pack. He looks down at the slice of cake. “Thanks Mrs. Rodriguez. I haven’t had one of these in a long time.”
David comes back and sits next to Stan. “Took it. Mom, can we take our dessert into la sala now?”
“Ok, mijo. Thank you. You boys enjoy and come back if you want anything else.” Veronica smiles as she starts clearing the table.
“Yummy. Thank you.” Stan asks as he takes his plate and follows David through the house. “Everything cool?””
“Oh yeah, I have a thing I take medicine for daily. I was sick when I was little. Fine now.” David shrugs as he opens the back door. “Come on dude, we can try new instruments or make sodas to go with my mom's cake.”
“Oh, I wanna make a soda! Don’t worry I have issues too.” Stan stepped onto the back porch with David.
“Another thing in common?” David smirked.
” I was also kind of sick when I was little. I was in the NICU for a few days after I was born. Then I was in the hospital in critical condition when I was like, three or four. Suffered a pretty bad allergic reaction. We all go through it.” Stan said following David into the back yard.
David made sure they were away from his mom and closed the door to the party room. “I was born with something called Wolf-Parkinson-White Syndrome and had to have heart surgery when I was about five. Totally fine now, can play sports and everything. But my mom is kinda messed up and gets upset at medical talk. I hardly remember but I think it was harder on her.”
Stan put a hand on his shoulder sympathetically. “Oh wow, sorry dude. I mean that’s a pretty cool name for an illness but still, sorry man.”
“Yeah I used to call it white werewolf syndrome haha.” David looked both ways before pulling down the neck of his shirt to reveal a faint scar on his chest. “My mark of the werewolf. Like I said I’m fine, it’s why I can make jokes. What kind of soda do you want?”
“I wish my scars were as cool as that.” Stan looks through the contents of the fridge. “Oh um, I’ll take something with lime, I like lime a lot.” Stan sets the cake on the counter and takes a bite. “Mmm this is so good! I love tres leches, I’m such a dairy freak and three milk cake? It was made for me.”
“Like a lime cucumber? It’s nice a fresh with my mom’s special cake.” David asked grabbing ingredients to set out.
“Sure, I’ll try that.” Stan sat at the bar as he ate his cake, he didn’t want to finish it all before he could try it with the soda.
David is setting up the machine for cucumber lime. “Yeah, and my mom modified it to make it sweeter. She adds coconut milk to it as well. Oh, you want a touch of coconut to the soda?”
Stan drops his fork mid bite with a clatter. “Wh-what did you say she uses?”
David had his back turned as he made some cucumber lime sodas. “Sugar, heavy cream, eggs, condensed milk, coconut milk, yellow cake mix. You want the recipe? Bring some cultural excitement to your family?”
Stan swallows thickly, trying not to panic. Knowing he was about the ruin the Rodriguez family’s evening. “David?”
David has back turned still making drinks. “You into classic rock at all?” He asks.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck.” Stan pushes his plate away and starts to run hands over his face to check for any hives. “Fuck dude, fuck!”
“That’s a no?” David places glasses of soda on the counter in front of Stan. “You okay?”
Tears burn Stan’s eyes; he lets out a cough. Only at that moment he begins to feel his chest tighten and his tongue feels numb. “No... dude, David, I’m allergic to coconut!”