::Rusty Iron Pipes on a Chalkboard – Little Victories::

[Received, 3:10] REALLY?
[Received, 3:10] YOU UNDID HALF A DAY JUST TO GET OUT OF TURNING BUTTERS DOWN
[Received, 3:11] I CANNOT BELIEVE YOU RIGHT NOW

To be entirely fair, Dee hadn't meant to hop back half of the day- only fifteen minutes or so. Just long enough that she would have been able to ask for a bathroom pass from her Math class and camp-out in the boy's restroom until such time as school was over and the buses were loaded and ready to go, and then she could have 'missed' the bus due to gut trouble and taken one of the regular bus-lines home... instead, she'd ended up utilizing a trick where she took a selfie during passing time, used the tags to complain about feeling ill, and then tagged the school nurse, Ms. Merryweather. Not five minutes into fourth hour, she'd been called into the health office where her mother was already waiting to take her home... with a lecture that she really needed to stop using that gambit to get out of school.

That was the trouble with ripping time when she was upset or angry, her accuracy wasn't so great.

[Sent, 3:14] Says the person who send me a NOTE. You could have texted me. I would have gotten the message properly, then.

Grumpily, Dee dropped her phone back on the surface of the desk in her room- her mother's punishment for using the selfie trick was being sent to her room until dinner time. No going out after school, no hanging out with friends... but she still had her devices, at least. Plenty of games on her computer, plenty of people to text, but none of it seemed all that interesting at the moment.

No, she was worrying about Butters. Why now? Why her? She supposed it was good that he was willing to step outside of his box to ask someone out who didn't fit into his schema of normal, but it didn't change the fact that the whole damn thing was a farce. A lie, misinformation upon misinformation that she couldn't correct without it chaining into greater social consequences. Butters was a sweet, kind, thoughtful boy... but he was shit at keeping secrets- particularly from Cartman, who no doubt had his hooks in the kid to this very day.

It's all so fucking stupid and pointless. I shoulda just dealt with it and turned him down flat. The longer this goes on, the more he's gonna get his fuckin' hopes up.

Her phone buzzed against her table with another barrage of texts. Flipping the square of plastic up, the notifications confirmed they were from Wendy.

[Received, 3:17] Well... about that.
[Received, 3:17] I might have done something dumb earlier today that got my phone taken away.
[Received, 3:18] I thought I was being discreet, but the math teacher noticed me texting under the table and made me hand it over.

[Sent, 3:19] Lemme guess, you and Stan?

More evidence to this whole romantic fever taking over the school being a corner stone of what Dee termed in her head as the Stupid Virus. It morphed and changed from season to season, using different guises to infect as many minds as possible, but it have some trusty vectors that never went out of vogue. Teen drama by way of crushes was perchance the Stupid Virus's most stalwart companion throughout the ages.

[Received, 3:20] I know I could have come over and TALKED to you during lunch, but if I had said it in front of the guys I have no doubt Butters would have suffered for it...
[Received, 3:20] And if I had pulled you aside, Stan would have gotten insecure.
[Received, 3:21] This close to a school event, every little thing is burdened with so much *meaning*

Fucking tell me about it.

[Sent, 3:22] Alright, you're forgiven. But I still stand by my decision to get the hell outta there. The whole reason you warned me was so I could *avoid* Butters anyway

A prolonged pause in the conversation. Dee detected an ulterior motive that was revealed a moment later.

[Received, 3:25] Well, I was really hoping that if you had the whole afternoon to think about it, you might say yes.
[Received, 3:26] Butters can be a really sweet guy when he's not marching to someone else's stupid tune
[Received, 3:26] I thought you two might be good for each other, in that way. You'd have the right to protect him, and he might get you to come out of your shell a little bit.

Goddamnit Wendy, are you fucking kidding me right now? You're playing matchmaker?

[Sent, 3:27] First, please don't meddle in my lack of a love life. I like it the way it is.
[Sent, 3:27] Second, what shell?

In the time waiting for a response, a knock came at Dee's door that surprised her, making her quickly lock her phone and drop it on her desk with a little gasp as her head twisted 'round, the rest of her swivel chair following after as her feet came from tucked beneath her butt to be on the floor.

"Hey, champ?" It was her father's voice, projected through cheap plywood. "One of your friends is here with the homework from the classes you missed. I'm gonna open the door, okay?"

Ten-second pause which was meant to give her time to locate her favorite sweater and pull it on- unnecessary at this moment, she was still wearing it. Still, it was good procedure and she was glad her parents followed it. At the end of that allotted time, the door cracked open to first reveal her dad, and then... Kyle? That hadn't been who she was expecting. No, she assumed it would have been Kenny, someone else who had been through enough temporal hiccups to detect them the moment they occurred.

"Hey, Dee, I figured you could use your assignments from the day- don't wanna fall behind, right?"

Right... the fuck are you doing here? I don't think you've ever come alone to my house outside the context of the games we played as kids. It's always been with the others for a study group, or to play the latest hot release because my dad makes the best snacks... why are you here? Dee's blank stare, a trademark at this point in her life, remained even and directed at Kyle, trying to suss out for what purpose he might have decided to come over with what was a paltry offering at best. Really? Her afternoon assignments? She'd only blinked away that reality a few hours ago, and she still remembered those classes being boring reading capped off by simple worksheets that could easily wait until she returned to school the next day.

"Alright, buddy, I know mom said you were in trouble, but I'm gonna let your friend stay long enough to explain your schoolwork to you, okay? Lemme know if you guys need anything." Dad said, though his warm tone assumed that Kyle was paying a social visit more than anything, and that he totally thought he was helping his kid get away with having a friend over despite being on room-arrest by the orders of Mom. "And remember, door open." His final reminder was called out over his shoulder as he turned and headed back downstairs, leaving Kyle in the doorway.

"Your dad is pretty cool, dude." Kyle observed, taking a tentative step in and looking around. Dee's walls were covered with all sorts of stuff, reflecting her various interests. She still had some of the old LARP gear from when they played their rather complex games as kids, posters for games and shows she liked, and plenty else on display. He seemed genuinely curious for a few seconds before he refocused on her, and seemed to find some kind of resolve that reminded him why he was here. "So... uh, I need to talk to you about Wendy."

Wendy? … don't tell me she's been trying to arrange a match for you, too.

"Listen, I know you got a note from her today. I don't think she meant to tell me, but she did. I also know she's on the fence about Stan."

Dee blinked. Well, that suddenly took a left turn. Wait, what?

"And I get it if you like her, but I need to remind you how bad Stan got the last time they did this- do you remember? He was a fucking mess, and I... he's my best friend. I really hate to see him like that, and I think I'd feel guilty forever if I didn't at least talk to you before you did something that would hurt him. So, if Wendy asks you to the dance, I want you to say no to her. For Stan."

Pillsbury Dough-boy in the middle of a gang rape, that is the last fucking thing on my mind. Dee was unsure if the confusion on her face could get any more pronounced than it already was, but Kyle appeared not to be detecting it. Raised brows and wide eyes appeared to say Sure, keep talking to him rather than I have no fucking clue what you're on about.

"Ugh, this feels so stupid. I try not to get involved in this crap, y'know? I make a point of it, sometimes, but... man, I just don't wanna see him broken up like that again."

Dude, you can stop, I get it. He's your bestie. Basically your brother. If you keep going on about it though, it starts to sound like you're talking about your boyfriend, and that's something you need to talk over with him, okay? Dee found it appropriate to get up out of her office chair, taking the step up to Kyle and patting him on the back- it seemed like he could use a little encouragement. Once she did, he looked at her and blinked a few times.

"You get it, huh? That's... wow, I wasn't expect it to be that easy. Stan fights for Wendy like she's the center of his world. You just let it go like that? Just like that?"

Hard to hold onto something I didn't have, buddy.

"Jeez, I thought I was going to have to get mad or something. Sorry if I came off super dramatic, dude. Oh, shit- your assignments. It's nothing major, I just... needed an excuse to come over. Sorry about that."

Text me next time. It's easier. You have my fucking number. Dee accepted the thin folder of papers he'd brought with him with her free hand, nodding along as she transferred them to under her arm. She'd put them on her desk in a moment, where her phone had buzzed a number of times. No doubt it was Wendy demanding a response of some kind to whatever new accusation she'd just leveled with all eloquence afforded to her on the medium that was SMS.

"Right, ah... I'm gonna... go?"

You do that, Kyle. She nodded again, a faint smile picking up on her face as she gave him one last pat on the back, encouraging him to depart in mildly good spirits. He still seemed confused, befuddled even, slipping from her grasp and backing toward the door before finally turning around to walk away.

She felt as if he still didn't trust her on this subject. Perchance he'd felt it had been too easy? Then again, why wouldn't it have been easy? Dee didn't have an interest in Wendy at the moment- least, not a romantic one. No denying Wendy was quite cute, intelligent, and one hell of a go-getter... but she just wasn't the sort of person Dee went for.

Then again, who did she go for? A question that brought a faint sigh out of her lungs, stepping up to close the door behind Kyle and return to her afternoon in solitary.


"He- what?"

"Yeah, Butters asked me out. Wendy tried to warn me with that stupid note that got passed to me during lunch, but I didn't read it, so I didn't know, and I didn't wanna break his heart by saying no, so I undid it."

Dee had not been given permission to leave the house... but that didn't stop her from doing so anyway. Waiting until she heard her parents go to sleep, she simply snuck out to see someone she actually wanted to hang out with... Kenny. The pair had met in his back yard, indulging in a favorite activity whenever she was pissed off or frustrated with the world; picking up and throwing random heavy, broken shit in his yard to see who could lob it the furthest from a line drawn in the snow. The noise didn't bother anyone in this part of town, and his parents were often too busy yelling at each other or too intoxicated in some manner to notice the pair of teens hefting and tossing wrecked pieced of scrap in the fenced area behind the house.

Tonight was an oddly clear night. No cloud cover, with a full moon and stars that winked from across the void of space. Peaceful, but Dee found herself incapable of appreciating it for more than a few seconds before she went right back to being pissed off about everything that went down today. Gloved hands closed around the handles of a long-empty propane tank, swinging it back, forward, back again, and then releasing it to arc through the air before bouncing once in the snow, rolling, and coming to a stop... just an inch past the print that Kenny's last throw had left behind.

"Seriously? She wrote you a note? Why didn't she text you?" Kenny quested, retrieving the propane tank and carrying it back to step up to the line he'd drawn near the back of his house. They always threw away from the house, just in case something went further than expected. Noise was one thing, property damage was another.

"Heh- there's the funny part- she got it taken away- texting Stan!"

"What?! Fuck, she's got it bad- I don't remember the last time she got her phone taken away during class." Kenny's throwing style was a little different, spinning himself around and around like a shot-put thrower before releasing the can to soar through the air and beat Dee's last throw by at least a foot. "HA!"

"Ooooh, little victories, Kenny- little victories. I wouldn't celebrate so soon." She smirked, taking the walk to grab the thing once more. "And apparently she let it slip to Kyle that she wrote me the note, so he came over to my house after school and got on my case for... I don't know, stealing Wendy from Stan? I don't have a goddamn clue, and it's just so fucking stupid. I just... I can't. Why are they all like this? I mean... Butters, I guess. Sure. He's been into me for a long ass time and is just coming around to the idea that it's okay to be into guys, but the others? Chuck-E-Cheese pegging the Easter Bunny, it's pure insanity."

Arriving at the tank they'd been tossing, she lifted it up onto her shoulder instead of carrying it back awkwardly at knee level. Kenny watched her return, the occasional cloud of foggy breath getting expelled from the opening in his hood. "I donno... I get it. It's nice to have someone to talk to. To be with."

She blinked. Oh good God, not you, too? "I... I guess." She conceded, not wanting to rip into him, though she felt the urge to do so just on principal. Even here, where they were mostly assured of privacy, minus the occasional hobo, she tended to keep her voice down. Karen sometimes wandered out here, wondering where her big brother was when she couldn't sleep. Best not to get riled up and start yelling, I'll get myself into trouble. "I just don't get why everyone has to be so dumb about it. Why does every tiny thing have to mean so much right now? Who talks to who, who gets notes passed to them, who sits next to that girl, who bumped into that guy- it's all just so... ugh!"

"We sit next to each other. Pretty much every day."

She blinked. She had made it back to the line, the tank still up on her shoulder, carried as if it weighed very little. At that specific second, it weighed nothing.

Are we talking about this? Right now?

Again, she blinked at him. Once, twice, thrice, but he didn't move on from the subject. He kept quiet, awaiting some kind of response- either recognizing that it meant something, or telling him it meant nothing.

"... did you... want to... ask me?" She finally managed, each word dripping from her mouth with the same haste one saw from cold molasses dripping from a bottle. She skipped over admitting anything, and went straight for a question that addressed the horrible feeling that overtook her and left her in a moment of burning panic- had she upset him with what she'd been saying?

Silence. Uncomfortable. Awkward. He'd opened a can of worms that neither of them were eager to stick their hands into, but now they had to, each in turn.

"I thought about it." He admitted.

"Thought about it." She parroted back numbly. He'd thought about it. The one guy she might have said yes to had thought about it. "... and?"

"And I can see it going one of two ways. Either you end up having to come out as a girl, or the school gets to suddenly 'discover' that I'm 'actually' bi. Either way, Cartman pitches a fit, and either one or both of us gets thrown out of the usual group."

She blinked. When he said I can see it going one of two ways, she assumed he was speaking to the outcome of them dating, that it would either go well or poorly... but he didn't speak to that. He predicted the reactions of those around them, how it would effect their status among their friends... and he made a damn good point, too. Cartman would pitch a fit, either of them being too gay together, or because he couldn't take having a vagina in his general vicinity. Stan and Kyle were wild cards; it would depend entirely upon how the information was presented to them, and whether or not either of them felt threatened in some way... though Kyle might decide to accept them just to piss of Cartman, and Stan would follow suit if that was the case.

What about everyone else, though? It would change the social landscape for them both at school, in different ways depending on which way they went about it. Kenny would take the majority of the heat if they just decided to be 'gay' together, and she knew he could take it without flinching... but then there was the other consideration.

What if she finally came out? To everyone? What if she and Kenny showed up to the dance, and she was there dolled up and dressed to the nines? The idea was enticing, to a certain extent. A form of gender expression, to preform the gender she actually identified with in the way of clothes and feeling pretty, that she'd been entirely barred from for years... suddenly opened. It would be dramatic, make a huge splash... but the thought still terrified her.

She put the propane tank down in the snow.

"... I'm not sure I'm ready... to... uh... go public. In either direction."

She felt bad, watching as he nodded with a solemn note to his posture. This was an unusual side of Kenny to see outside of the Mysterion persona- so thoughtful, so quiet... and yet, she got to see it more often than she saw the kid who yelled for joy whenever the subject of boobies came up in a conversation. They were one in the same, but a lot of thought had been provoked of late.

Maybe they were both infected with the Stupid Virus- just a different strain. One that pushed more towards introspection while also trapping them in this awkward limbo land of what the hell do we do about these feelings?

"Maybe not public, then?"

She heard a different tenor, a touch of want that increased the tension in his tone. The way he looked at her had made a decision; he wasn't backing down. Instead, his hands lifted to pull his hood back, clearing his mouth to speak clearly and letting his hair come shining into the moonlight like a thousand silver strands. Then, as a final gesture, he held his hand out to her.

"Dance with me."

She was dumbfounded at the invitation, blinking at his outstretched hand. It felt silly, but so heartfelt- without the hood in the way she could see the way he smiled at her, a little thing that dared to hope that she'd accept what he offered... that they could do this, where no one had to see, or know, or talk about it. That this could belong to them, no one else, all as their breath made little clouds in the cold.

She mustered her courage... and reached out for his gloved hand. In an instant, he pulled her in, and they were together in a new way. Not just partners, always standing side-by-side.

No, they were chest-to-chest, and she swore she felt her heart beating off of his ribcage through all the layers of warm clothes.

"I warn you- I'm not very good."

He laughed, letting out that sweet giggle of his. "It's okay." He promised. "Me neither."


::The Author's Corner::

FUCK ME IT'S CUTE.

I hAD TO REWRITE THIS CHAPTER LIKE FOUR TIMES.

There actually was a LOT more drama in the first runs I attempted, but it just didn't flow... and now this part did, and, well... behold the ship, it sails. Quietly. Secretly. It's a stealthy ship.

ONWARDS!

-Buttlord