Now let's talk about Bebe Stevens. Everyone would have thought she'd end up with Clyde Donovan or one of the other boys right? That was until she started on drugs and partying. Things didn't get that bad until after graduation and prostituting herself on the streets of Denver. She has been in and out of rehab. No one expected this from her, especially since she doesn't like being sexualized. But, times got tough and no one would hire her due to the drug problems. There was no other option. I still visit her sometimes, see how she's doing. I guess we're actually doing that now as well.
I see her sitting there on the curb, those golden locks all tied up in a ponytail, she's wearing fishnets under her jeans with a cigarette sticking out of her mouth. I approach carefully and sit beside her.
"Hey there." I greet politely.
"Hey yourself. Haven't seen you in awhile, why do you bother still coming by here? Especially if you aren't going to pay for the merchandise."
She always says shit like that. I try not to let it bother me, she doesn't see yet that I'm just trying to be here for her.
"Like I said last time, I just want to see you. Talk. You know."
She scoffs, seems like she lost trust in most men. I can understand why. She can't even go see the one she does trust anymore. I feel bad, I really do.
"Bebe.." I start off, but her hand is held up to stop me.
"I know what you're going to say. I'm fine, really. I like this. I'm earning cash and actually have a fairly nice place to say. At least it's not south park, right?" A joke everyone used to make any time we made it out of south park. If only it didn't sound like she said it with contempt.
I stand myself up and hold my hand out. "You want to get a drink and talk about it?" I offer. She refuses. I take that as my cue to leave before she gets pissed off. Very few are aware, but she does carry a gun in that purse.