This chapter took me way longer to write than I thought it would, and I guess that's because it ended up being way longer than I intended. Anyways, here it is. Hope you enjoy. Don't forget to review!
I don't own South Park.
Beside Me in the Morning
Chapter 1: Dude, This is Pretty Fucked Up Right Here
"So get this, you guys…"
"And ho," Cartman reminded Kenny, pointing at Wendy.
"Don't call her a ho, Cartman," Kyle said.
"Kyle, I can speak for myself. Don't call me a ho, Cartman."
"You guys…and Wendy…I'm telling a story here."
Kyle rolled his eyes. "Go on, Kenny."
"Okay, so I was in study hall trying to lift a turkey sandwich off Clyde's backpack when Heidi comes up to me and asks me to talk to her in the hallway."
"Why do you always try to steal food from Clyde in study hall?" Stan asked.
"Because my family is poor and Clyde's mom makes one hell of a sandwich. Now stop interrupting me."
"Go on," Wendy told him.
"Okay. So I go out to the hallway with Heidi and she tells me she's three months pregnant but not to tell anyone."
"So you're telling us," Kyle said.
"Well the story wouldn't make any sense if I didn't tell you she's pregnant," Kenny reasoned.
"And in your warped mind, that justifies it?" Wendy asked.
"Can I continue?"
"Go ahead."
"Okay. So she tells me she's pregnant and then she tells me not to worry; it's not mine."
"She told you it's not yours?" Stan asked.
"Yeah. Can you believe that? A girl tells me she's pregnant, and she thinks that I'll automatically assume it's mine."
"Did you even sleep with her?" Stan asked.
"That's the thing. I don't remember! So it's a damn good thing the kid's not mine. Can you imagine eight years from now, me having the sex talk with my kid and telling him I don't remember doing it with his mother?"
"You're gonna give your kids the sex talk when they're seven and half years old?" Cartman asked.
"Sure."
"Is that when your parents had the talk with you?"
"Yeah, Cartman. When did your mom give you the sex talk?"
"She never gave me the sex talk. She still tells me the men she brings home at night are television repairmen who are over to fix the TV in her bedroom, which I'm to believe breaks every fucking night."
"My dad had the talk with me when I was twelve," Stan said. "No wonder you're so messed up, Kenny. Your parents screwed you up early in life."
"Can we get to the important issue here?" Kyle asked. "The fact that Kenny can sleep with a girl and not remember."
"Yeah, that's pretty messed up, Kenny," Wendy agreed.
"Just because you two are a couple of bitter virgins…"
"Virgins, yes. Bitter, no," Kyle cut him off. "Sex means something to some people, Kenny."
"So, uh," Stan pointed back and forth between Kyle and Wendy. "You two never…?"
"No!" they cried in unison, and Cartman snorted.
"Shut up, fatass. You've never done it either," Kenny retorted.
"Whatever, Kenny. Like I'd want to fuck any of the girls at this school anyways. They've all probably contracted some ghetto strain of STD off of you already anyways."
"I don't have an STD."
"That you know of. You didn't put that bun in Heidi's oven either, but that doesn't mean there aren't already six or seven miniature Kenny McCormicks running around terrorizing South Park and trying to cop a feel at their baby sitters."
Kenny grinned. "Yeah, that's definitely what my kids would be like."
"Are you really joking about this?" Kyle cried. "Shouldn't you be taking this a little more seriously? I mean I never thought I'd say this, but Cartman has a point. What if you really did end up knocking up some girl?"
"God, Kyle, why do you even care?"
"Is it so wrong that I care about you?"
Cartman snickered. "Do you have to sound like such a fucking fag all the time, Kahl?"
"Shut up, fatass," Wendy hissed.
"What's with you two defending each other all the time?" Cartman asked, looking from Kyle to Wendy. "You sure you two are broken up?"
Wendy glared at Cartman. "You know I don't like Kyle that way."
Cartman, Kyle, and Kenny all looked knowingly at Stan, who just stared back at them, oblivious. "What?" he asked, noticing all eyes on him.
Wendy buried her head in her hands, groaning audibly at her friends' lack of subtlety.
Cartman's eyes darted back and forth between Wendy and Stan. "What about you, Stan?" he asked finally.
"What about me what?" Stan replied.
"Well, have you and Bebe ever, you know…?" He smirked evilly at Wendy. "Done the deed?"
All color drained from Wendy's face. Kenny snorted, but Kyle was quick to jump to Wendy's aid.
"Shut up, Cartman," he said. "Stan doesn't have to answer that."
Stan scratched his neck awkwardly. "Thanks, Kyle."
"No, you know what?" Wendy spoke up, turning to face Stan. "He should answer the question."
Stan blushed. "What if I don't want to answer?"
"But we're all curious now," Wendy insisted. "Come on, just tell us. You know about our sex lives."
"Or lack thereof," Kenny added under his breath. Kyle elbowed him in the side.
Stan bit his lip as his four friends watched him curiously. Finally, he caved under their stares. "No, okay? I've never done it either."
Wendy sighed with relief, turning back to her lunch. Cartman watched her reaction through narrowed eyes, stabbing angrily into his macaroni.
"Don't worry about it, Stan," Kenny said. "Just give it some time."
"I wasn't worried about it, Kenny. It's just that some people aren't as comfortable talking about this stuff as you are."
"You're a prude," Kenny concluded.
"You're a dick," Stan retorted.
"Don't you ever want to be with someone special?" Kyle asked Kenny seriously. "I mean, don't you ever get tired of waking up with a different girl every morning?"
"'Every morning' is an exaggeration, Kyle. You make it sound like I get some every night." Kenny chugged down the last of his lukewarm milk. "Besides, they're always out of my bed by the morning."
The others at the table stared at their far more experienced friend, not knowing whether to feel envy or pity for the boy.
Kenny eyed Stan's baked potato. "Are you gonna eat the skin, dude?"
"Why are you sitting here instead of with your boyfriend?"
Bebe shrugged. "Because I like you guys."
She wasn't lying. Sure, Craig was apathetic if not downright gloomy most of the time, and Clyde wasn't the most clever or charismatic guy in South Park, but they were a sweet pair of guys underneath it all. They really did come as a pair, too. You rarely saw one of them without the other, which was probably why they had such terrible luck with girls. Bebe was the only girl anyone ever really saw them with, and everyone knew they were just friends with her.
She'd been hanging out with the two of them for years. Since fifth grade, actually, when Wendy started dating Clyde. It just happened naturally. Wendy and Bebe were inseparable at the time, and Craig and Clyde were a set, so the four of them just started spending all of their time together. Of course, Clyde was "in love" with Wendy, so he'd always try to be alone with her. What they did together during this alone time was beyond Bebe, since they were only eleven, and she was pretty sure Wendy was not all that into Clyde. Bebe and Craig, in the meantime, would usually play "TV Dub", a game of theirs that involved watching the TV on mute and replacing the muted sound with their own more interesting dialogue. They tried to get Wendy and Clyde in on their game a few times, but Wendy said it was a waste of time and Clyde's dubbing always sounded like the boring stuff that the muted people were probably actually saying, which obviously took the fun out of it.
Why the four of them continued hanging out after Wendy dumped Clyde, Bebe wasn't sure. But she didn't mind either. She'd grown quite fond of the boys, and more importantly, comfortable with them. The truth was, she just wanted to fit in. At that time, she was still more developed than any of the other girls, and she did her best not to stand out, wearing baggy T-shirts and taping down her constantly growing breasts. She wished people would notice her for something besides her looks, which was the reason she was always secretly jealous of Wendy. Of course, she could never tell her best friend this, because she knew Wendy would take it the wrong way.
As if Bebe needed more reason to be jealous of her friend, Wendy started dating Craig in eighth grade, and Bebe couldn't understand why the hell this bothered her. She began picking fights with Craig over anything she could think of, and to her surprise, the normally emotionless Craig started fighting back. Eventually this turned into an all-out war between the two of them, which got on everyone's nerves, especially Wendy's. It took Bebe by surprise when Craig broke up with Wendy. She always thought it would be Wendy who would do the breaking up, seeing as Craig was the most infuriating boy Bebe had ever met. She was even more surprised when, a few weeks later, Craig asked her out. The most surprising thing of all, though, was that Bebe accepted.
This didn't seem to bother Wendy, even when Craig and Bebe openly held hands in front of the girl. Holding hands was the only public display of affection that Craig was comfortable with, but this was fine with Bebe, because it made those private moments even more special. Wendy, meanwhile, moved on quickly to Kyle Broflovski, and began distancing herself from the group. Bebe broke up with Craig around this time, mostly out of fear of their group disintegrating further. Clyde was already becoming an awkward third wheel, and Bebe couldn't help but blame her relationship with Craig for Wendy's drifting.
When Wendy didn't return to the group after breaking up with Kyle, Bebe was sure their fifteen-year friendship was over. Whenever one of them broke up with a boyfriend, they always took their spot back in the foursome as if they'd never been gone. But this was different. It was as if Wendy wanted out this time. Which was why, in a desperate attempt to keep her best friend from drifting any further away from her, Bebe started dating Stan.
Somehow, this plan backfired royally. All she'd wanted to do was find a way to spend more time with Wendy and her new friends, but her normally outgoing ex-best friend seemed to close up whenever she was around. It was almost as if Wendy was angry with her about something. It couldn't have been the Craig thing, could it? That seemed like ages ago. Both girls had clearly moved on from Craig by tenth grade. So what the hell was Wendy's problem?
Bebe sighed, planting her chin in her palm.
"Of course you like us. Why else would you put up with us for all these years?" Craig replied. "But seriously, why aren't you sitting with that pretty boy boyfriend of yours?"
Bebe shifted uncomfortably. "I…I don't think Stan's friends like me very much."
"All of them?" Craig asked. "Or are you talking about one in particular?"
"Okay, fine. Wendy hates my guts. Are you happy?"
Craig shrugged. "As close to happy as I can get, I suppose."
Bebe glared at him. "You're such an asshole, Craig."
"Why wouldn't Wendy like you?" Clyde asked. "You two have been best friends for as long as I can remember."
"I know," Bebe murmured sadly. "But every time I sit over there, she gives me this look. Like I'm encroaching on her territory. And then when I ask her a question she addresses her answers to Kyle. She clearly doesn't want me around."
"And the rest of Stan's friends?" Clyde asked. "How do they treat you?"
"Well Cartman gets really weird and starts talking to Wendy about how good Stan and I look together, then Kyle gets all pissed at Cartman and starts yelling at him to shut the fuck up, and Kenny watches until it no longer amuses him and then turns to me and says something sexist like that I should wear something more form-fitting."
"You've always just been better off with us," Craig told her. "Which is why you ought to forget about making nice with Wendy and just dump that meathead boyfriend of yours."
"Craig, Stan's not a…"
"Not a what?" Stan asked, appearing out of nowhere and sliding onto the seat beside Bebe, slipping an arm around her slender waist.
"Hey, you," Bebe greeted him. "What are you doing here?"
"Got sick of my friends. They're being dicks and Kenny's helping himself to my lunch right now."
"Well I can't promise Craig and Clyde will be better company."
"Hey!"
Stan just smiled. "Sorry I didn't call you last night. I know I said I would, but my dumbass sister dropped my phone in the dishwater. I'm getting a new one tonight."
Bebe frowned. Had Stan promised to call her? "Er…That's okay."
"Wanna go to the mall with me later?"
"OMG, that sounds like sooooo much fun. You can go to the Verizon store together, and then you can get 'his' and 'hers' sweaters and prance around the South Park mall being adorable together."
"Shut up, Craig. I'd love to, Stan."
"Great. I'll pick you up after school."
Bebe bit her lip as she watched her boyfriend rejoin his friends. It wasn't that she didn't like Stan. He was a great guy. He was smart, warm, considerate…and the fact that he was handsome didn't hurt either. But perhaps he was too perfect. He had no irritating habits that drove her up the wall. He never said the wrong thing or laughed at the wrong time or tried to go too far with her. Nothing he did ever made her feel angry or hurt or frustrated or…anything. That was the problem. When Bebe looked at Stan, she felt nothing.
"So Kyle," Wendy said, as the two of them walked home from school hand-in-hand. Cartman had told them quite a few times that Kyle didn't have to walk Wendy home anymore since he was no longer her boyfriend, and that it was fucked-up that they still held hands like a cozy little couple, but neither of them cared. Since they had never really liked each other in that way, they didn't see any reason to change their relationship once they removed the "boyfriend, girlfriend" labels. "Do you like someone?"
"How many times have I told you, Wends? Just because I'm gay doesn't mean I want to have these 'girl talks' with you."
"It's not a girl talk, Kyle. And you can't pull the 'just because I'm gay' card every time I ask you a personal question. So?"
Kyle shrugged. "Why do you care?"
"You were being kind of weird today at lunch. You were all, 'Don't you ever want something real?' or whatever. I mean, you sounded gayer than usual. I figured it meant you're harboring a crush on somebody."
Kyle blushed. "Jesus, Wendy…"
"So? Who is he?"
"I don't want to tell you," Kyle replied.
"Why not?" Wendy asked. "It's not Stan, is it?"
"No! God, no."
"Well, you two are best friends."
"Exactly. We're best friends. Practically brothers. Making out with Stan would be like making out with…you."
Wendy frowned. "Gee, thanks."
"You know what I mean."
"Fine. So why don't you want to tell me who it is?"
"You'll laugh."
"No I won't."
"You will."
"Why? Is it Cartman?"
"Gross, Wendy."
"Is it Clyde? He's gotten kind of cute," Wendy teased, bumping hips with Kyle as they walked. "He's got the personality of a wet mop, but that sweet ass makes it almost worth it, no?"
"Now you're just being a bitch, Wends."
"You know I'm kidding, Kyle. Besides, it's pretty obvious you like Kenny."
Kyle's eyes bugged out. "How did you…?"
"Relax. No one else will figure it out. I'm the only one who knows you're gay. Your secret's safe with me."
"It doesn't matter anyways," Kyle muttered. "Kenny's as straight as they come."
"Hey, you never know. Kenny could be very open-minded. Sex is just sex to him, after all."
"Thanks, Wendy. That's strangely un-comforting."
"So why do you like Kenny anyways?"
"I don't know. Why do you like Stan?" Kyle countered.
"How do you not like Stan?" Wendy replied. "He's perfect."
"Except for the fact that he's dating your ex-best friend."
"Well, yeah. There's that."
Kyle sighed. "Why do we have to like the wrong people? You know, if you and I were actually attracted to each other, we could have been a really good couple."
"Hey, I was attracted to you for a while. I was never, like, in love with you, but I was attracted to you. I don't go out with guys I'm not attracted to. Not since fifth grade."
"When you dated a wet mop."
Wendy shrugged. "Whatever. Elementary school relationships don't really count anyways."
"Which would make your first real boyfriend…Kenny?"
Wendy laughed. "Oh, god. Can we just say that seventh grade doesn't count either?"
"I think they all count," Kyle replied. "I mean, they've all shaped who you are now. You learned just as much from Clyde as you did from, say, Craig, right?"
"I guess so."
"I have a theory."
"Yeah?"
"I think you're supposed to go out with Cartman next."
"What the hell, Kyle?"
"Well your first boyfriend was Stan. And you went out with Kenny in seventh grade and me last year. Maybe you have to get Cartman out of the way before you can repeat the cycle and go back to Stan."
"You'd better be joking."
"Of course I am."
"Good. Do me a favor, Kyle. If I ever find myself attracted to Eric Cartman, find a big rock and hit me with it until I come to my senses."
"How come no one ever comes down here?" Kenny asked, rummaging through a stack of old records.
"Because this place gives me the fucking jibblies," Cartman replied. "Now will you help me find that stupid comic book that supposedly is worth so much money so we can get the fuck out of this rat-infested dungeon?"
"Okay, first of all, you can't just sell that thing on eBay, okay? It's priceless."
"You'd sell it if you had a measly scrap of paper that was worth that much."
"Well yeah, I would. But that's because my family can barely afford food. You, on the other hand, have never missed a meal in your life. Or you look that way, at least."
"You're so funny, you know that? I'm seriously, your wit never ceases to astound me."
"And secondly…" Kenny glanced around the dark basement, which was cluttered with treasures from Cartman's childhood. "This place isn't half bad. I mean, if you fixed it up a bit, it could be a cool place to hang out. Maybe invite girls over…work your magic on them…" The blond couldn't hide the grin on his face.
"Goddamnit, Kenny, quit laughing. The concept of me with a chick is not as impossible as you seem to think it is."
"But seriously, man, look around. You've got a couch that looks about a thousand times more comfortable than the one in my living room. A record player. Pool table." Kenny pulled a ragdoll from a nearby toy chest. "And these faggy dolls you used to play with as a kid."
Cartman strode over to the skinny boy and snatched the doll away from him. "You leave Polly Prissypants out of this."
"You should think about it though. I'd help you clean this place up. No charge. 'Cept you'd have to let me come over here whenever I want."
"You already do come over whenever you want. Which is a hell of a lot more than I want you around. You've outworn your welcome by about twelve years, McCormick."
"Don't lie, Cartman. You like having me around. I'm way too fucking cool to hang out with you. I only do because we're best friends."
"Ey! You are not too cool for me. I only hang out with you because I feel sorry for you. Because you're so damn poor."
"If you felt sorry for me because I'm poor, you'd share your breadsticks with me at lunch instead of complaining that they're too dry and throwing them away."
"Beggars can't be choosers, Kenny. You eat them anyways. Fresh out of the trash, just like you like 'em."
"I do not eat out of the trash, fatass!"
Cartman grinned. It was a game the two of them liked to play, to see who could get the other to snap. They were only half serious with their insults. Cartman and Kenny had been best friends since they were kids. It was basically by default at first, because Stan and Kyle were so fucking inseparable that people began to think they were gay for each other. It only made sense that Kenny and Cartman should become best friends. But over the years, their fondness for each other grew genuine, and while they weren't a couple of fucking pussies about it like Stan and Kyle were, they really did care for each other.
Cartman shoved a cardboard box aside to make room on the old couch as he thought about this. He never really took a lot of time to contemplate his friendship with Kenny, and the more he thought about it, the less sense their relationship made.
"Kenny," he said finally. "Why are we best friends?"
"You really don't know?" Kenny replied.
"Besides that we both want to avoid being the awkward third wheel in Stan and Kahl's gay little bromance?"
"You mean you don't see it? Dude, we have a shit ton in common."
"Like?"
"We both do whatever the hell we want, regardless of right or wrong."
"True."
"We both think Stan and Kyle are a couple of fags."
"Also true."
"We both think girls are a fucking waste of time."
Cartman cocked his head to the side. "You think girls are a waste of time?"
"Yeah, dude."
"But you love girls."
"I have fun with girls. I don't believe in love."
"You don't?" How was it that Cartman didn't know this about his best friend?
"Well, I guess I believe in love. I just don't think it's something that could happen to me."
"You're immune to love?"
Kenny shrugged. "I just think there are two kinds of people. There are people like Stan or Wendy, who can meet someone and fall in love with them, and there are people like you and me, who just don't know how."
Cartman stared at Kenny, a distant look in his brown eyes, and Kenny stared back, studying his friend's expression. He seemed pensive. Thoughtful. Almost sad. Kenny wasn't sure what to make of it, but it seemed he'd come to the wrong conclusion about Cartman. He looked away. "Or maybe it's just me."
Kenny had known since eighth grade that Cartman had a crush on Wendy, but he honestly didn't think the fatass was capable of actually loving her. He wanted to ask Cartman when this happened, but he knew his friend would get angry if he pressed any further, and it wasn't worth the argument that was sure to follow. He sighed. He'd always found comfort in thinking that this inability to love was something he shared with his best friend, but no, even Cartman could fall in love. The idea made him strangely jealous, and it bothered him that he could be jealous of Cartman over anything.
"Found that comic book yet, poor boy?"
"What?" Kenny replied, snapping out of his thoughts. "Oh, yeah." He picked up a thin comic book that he'd set atop the stack of old records. "I found it about five minutes after we came down here."
"Then why didn't you tell me, asswipe?"
"Because I knew you were scared of your basement and I wanted to piss you off."
"Fuck you, Kenny."
Wendy's ringing cell phone was a welcome distraction from her untouched history homework. She dropped her pen, reaching for the phone and staring at the contact ID. Unknown number.
She hit send. "Hello?"
"Wendy."
"Stan? I didn't recognize your number."
"New phone," Stan explained. "I got your number from Bebe."
Wendy's face fell. "Oh. Is she there too?"
"She went to GameStop or somewhere. Something about Craig's birthday coming up."
"That's Bebe," Wendy remarked. "So thoughtful. Thinking of Craig, as always."
"They're friends, Wendy."
"Friends who used to be more than friends."
"Like you and Kyle?"
"That's different."
"How?"
"Kyle's…Well, it just is."
"Right."
Wendy spun around in her desk chair, staring out the window as she twisted a lock of black hair in her fingers. "But doesn't it bother you how much time she spends with Craig?"
"Why should it?"
"Well he obviously still likes her."
"No he doesn't. They're just friends."
"Trust me, Stan, you can be in love with someone you're just friends with."
"Even if he does like her, it doesn't matter because she's dating me. I trust Bebe."
"That's good, I guess."
"She misses you, you know."
"Bebe?"
"Yeah. She talks about you all the time."
"It's not like I fled town or anything. She sees me every day."
"Yeah, but you two never really talk anymore."
"We drifted apart. Childhood friends drift apart all the time. It's natural."
"Couldn't you just try hanging out with her again? For old times' sake?"
"Stan, we have nothing in common anymore."
"Yeah you do. You're one of my closest friends and she's my girlfriend. So you have me in common."
Ouch. That stung. "Stan…"
"It could be fun. I know how you love reliving old memories. And I've seen that old Kleenex box where you keep every note you and Bebe ever passed in junior high."
"Well as much as I love reliving the good memories, it's a little hard to overlook the bad."
"What bad memories? You two were best friends."
"You wouldn't understand."
"Come on, Wends. Just hang out with her. For me."
Wendy sighed. "Fine. I'll hang out with Bebe some time. For you."
She could practically hear Stan grinning at her. "Thanks, Wendy. You're the best."
"Yes I am."
As she gazed out her window, she spotted a faded gray hoodie that nearly blended in with the bleak sky and the wet slush that covered her driveway. The figure made its way to her door, and she could hear the faint sound of her doorbell from downstairs.
"Hey, Stan, I've gotta go. Kenny's here for some reason."
"Okay. Hey, will you tell him to text my new phone so I have his number?"
"Sure thing."
"Okay. I'll see you tomorrow."
"Bye, Stan." The other end went dead, and Wendy looked down at her phone sadly. "I love you," she murmured before snapping the cell phone shut.
"Unrequited love," she heard a voice from her doorway say.
Wendy rolled her eyes. "You got up here fast. What do you want, Kenny?" she asked, turning her chair to face him.
"Came to see if you have any boxes," Kenny explained, making himself comfortable on her neatly made bed.
"Boxes?"
"Yeah. You know, rectangular prisms? Hollow? Made of cardboard?"
"What for?"
"Cartman's mom is making him clean his basement and I volunteered to help."
Wendy stared at him blankly.
"What?"
"Cartman's mom never makes him do anything. And you never volunteer to help."
"Hey, I'm a good friend."
Wendy raised an eyebrow at the blond boy.
He shrugged. "Okay, there might be a meal or two in it for me."
She nodded. This much made sense at least. "I might have some boxes for you. So, what's Cartman's basement like anyways?"
"You're lucky you don't have to see it. It's full of Cartman's old toys and yearbooks. Baby pictures, old records. The place reeks of nostalgia."
Wendy perked up. "Can I help you guys?"
"You want to help?"
"Yeah. I mean, if Cartman doesn't mind having me around."
"God, I don't know, Wendy."
"Please, Kenny?"
"Hmm…okay. I guess he can handle it."
Wendy got to her feet and strode over to her closet, opening it and pulling folded-up boxes from the top shelf. "You guys should have asked for my help from the start. I love this kind of thing."
With her back to Kenny, she couldn't see his devious grin. "Really? I had no idea."
When I started writing this story, I intended for it to focus mainly around Cartman and Wendy. But I've added so much crap about the other characters, it's turned into quite a mess. Anyways, this is a Candy story. The characters just have to be stupid and fuck everything up before that can happen. I have nothing further to say about this chapter, so I'll just share an unrelated Cartman quote: "Sorry, I'm not interested in being friends with midgets. Midgets piss me off. Frowney face." Yep, okay, please review.
