Sweetness of a Kiss
"So how long have we been friends for?" Bebe asked, silky voice lipping from pink, glossy lips as she leaned against the lockers nearest Wendy. Her eyes were lined with black, lashes made larger with the use of mascara. The shadow she wore was a pearly-pink, sparkling everytime she blinked.
A few stray sparkles had landed upon her lashes, causing them to shine as they fluttered shut, then open. Wendy didn't honestly know when her best friend had become so...attractive. She had the maturity of someone their age - sixteen - but the body of a well developed woman. She still had the biggest breasts out of them all.
"Since before we could walk." Wendy said back, without skipping a beat. She flashed her friend a smile, mildly ashamed of her own tee shirt hiding under Eric's over sized jacket. She had spent the night at his house prior, her own jacket covered the glue from the Social Sciences project. "Why?"
"So I can trust you with anything, right?" Bebe ignored the question, choosing to answer with one of her own. She fell into step beside her best friend, high heeled boots clicking lightly against the school tiles. They were early - of course - and the hallways were more or less empty. Still; she lowered her voice enough that prying ears wouldn't have the chance to butt their unwanted noses in.
"Of course." Wendy didn't bother asking why, again, she knew Bebe would answer in her own time. She absently checked to make sure she had all of her notebooks with her. Naturally, she did. She took a moment to smirk at her own absent perfectionism.
Bebe was silent as they wandered through the halls, killing time. That day she wore a deep red turtleneck, accented by her thigh-high black jacket. It wasn't the warmest thing, but it was sexy, and she liked that. Dark blue skinny jeans, knee high black heeled boots. The jacket hung off her shoulders, enticed one to look at the graceful arch of her neck, hidden by the shirt. She was the image of beauty, of confidence, as her hands grasped lightly at her backpack straps. Finally, she spoke.
"I kind of like someone."
Wendy laughed, light and friendly. "That's hardy new, B." She joked, softly bumping her hip against the blond girls. Her own winter boots looked ugly when she glanced down, so she turned her eyes forwards once more.
"It's different this time." The quiet tone, the yearning, those took Wendy by surprise. She turned to look at her friend as the girl began to speak, "The way you look at Eric...it's how I feel when I think of him." True to her word, a gentleness had entered Bebe's eyes, replacing the calculating, watching gaze she usually had.
"That is different." Wendy hadn't meant it to be offensive, and Bebe didn't take it that way. Bebe wasn't exactly known for being choosy - not to say she slept around. She just knew what she wanted, and her looks combined with the wealth of her family allowed to get what she wanted, when she wanted.
"Right?" Bebe laughed, a pretty, sweet sound. "I thought so too. It's why I kind of wanted to talk to you." She sighed, closed her eyes, tilted her head back. Wendy stares at the glimpse of throat she could see, before darting her eyes away. God, this is getting ridiculous.
"So what do you need to talk about?" They were at the cafeteria finally, heading to the table they always sat at. Wendy sat with her back against the wall, sideways on a bench. Bebe sat in front of her, straddling the bench. Wendy couldn't help but think that perhaps Bebe practiced being sexy, when no one was looking.
As if she could read her thoughts, Bebe grinned cheerily. "Well. I can't tell you who it is." She leaned forward, elbows on her knees, chin in her hands. "You like someone who isn't all that popular." She started.
Wendy nodded. There was no point in getting upset about it - very may people hated her boyfriend, and with good reason, too. He was a dick. Still, he was her dick, and she liked - loved - him, and that was enough for her. Screw society and social norms anyway, she told herself. "Right."
"So how do you do it?"
"What do you mean?"
"Not trying to be rude, love, but when you were with Stan...things were easier. People didn't give you dirty looks, push you around, treat you like crap. Now you're with Cartman and life seems to suck, but you've never been happier."
"I did really like Stan at one point, Bebe. But that was then. Eric actually...for as much as he's a bastard, he sort of gets me on a different level. He's smart. Evil smart, but still smart. He makes me happy and if I'm happy, no one else matters. If you didn't like him, it wouldn't stop me from being with him."
"I don't really like him." Things like this, these were the things Bebe was honest with. Anything to do with her as a person...those were the things she hid.
"Yeah, and why don't you like him? I'm not trying to start a fight, Bebe. Like I said, I could care less. My parents hate him, too. He hasn't done anything to them though. Or to you. Do you hate him because Hiedi hates him? Because he's a bad person?" She prompted, looking more amused than upset.
"So you're saying I should stop being a conformist bitch and just go with what I think is right." Bebe deduced.
"Exactly." Wendy gave her friend two thumbs up, staring past her and at the cafeteria doorway. Eric had finally dragged his butt out of bed. He still looked rumpled, but he was there before first bell. She guessed she was having a good effect on him. He looked at her, raised an eyebrow. She shook her head.
He joined Kenny, Kyle, Butters and Clyde instead. Across the cafeteria, Stan snorted.
"Thanks Wendy."
"So you still can't tell me who it is?" She tore her attention away from her boyfriend, gave it back to her best friend.
Bebe learned forward further, smiling a sly, slow smile. "I can tell you one thing; he's fucking cute as all hell." She stood up and headed to class, seconds before first bell rang.