Girl Trouble

First up, apologies. I know it's been a while since my last update, but this chapter's been giving me a lot of trouble. Thanks to everybody who has read and reviewed so far.

I don't own South Park.

Chapter 10

Kenny awoke the next morning and looked, bleary eyed, at the pink bedroom. It took him a few moments to realise where he was.

He'd been having a lovely dream about being back in his old body. He'd been walking around South Park in his old orange parka, scummy jeans and the secondhand trainers that never really fitted him, no matter how many pairs of socks he wore. Kenny smiled dreamily. Okay, so it hadn't been that exciting, but he'd felt safe, like he always did when he pulled his hood up and cut himself off from the rest of the world.

The dream had ended rather abruptly, with him being hit by a car. He frowned. A Toyota, was it? It didn't really matter, whatever it was – it was only a dream. He sighed as he got out of bed. How long had it been since his last death? Two or three weeks at least, it had to be. He couldn't remember ever living so long – there was a time when he used to die every week, way back in the fourth grade. Way back, when he'd been Kenny.

He paused, a small bottle of moisturiser in his hand. No wait. I'm still Kenny! I am Kenny, I am Kenny, I am Kenny. He repeated the thought in his head like a mantra, willing it to be true, knowing it to be true, but when he looked in the mirror, the face that stared back at him told him a different story.

Annie's mobile phone rang, distracting him from his identity crisis. He turned away, ignoring Miley Cyrus as she sang about some party in the USA. It wasn't just the faggy choice of ringtone that bothered him; he just didn't want to talk to anyone. Miley was cut off in midflow as the phone went to voicemail. Kenny sighed. Why couldn't people just leave him alone?

He reached into the handbag for the offending phone and checked the caller ID – one missed call from Bebe. Once upon a time he would have been thrilled if Bebe had called him, now the thought annoyed him. She was probably only calling to pass on some gossip that she thought Annie would be desperate to hear about, but Kenny couldn't be bothered with it, or Bebe. He couldn't be bothered with anyone right now.

He chucked the phone on to the dressing table and got back into bed, pulling the pink covers over his head.

"Annie, honey, breakfast's ready!" Annie's mom called from somewhere downstairs.

"Just leave me the fuck alone!" Kenny muttered into the pillow.

Five blissful minutes went past and then…

"Annie! Are you ever moving?" Annie's dad shouted. A short pause, then: "Don't make me come up there!"

Kenny groaned and put the pillow over his head.

*

Wendy normally loved weekends. They were a chance for her to skip homework, catch up with friends and watch crap TV. This weekend, however was different. This weekend she wanted to be over, even though it had barely begun.

She sat at the kitchen table, picking at a waffle, as her parents chatted next to her. The phone rang, and she jumped. She held her breath as her father got up to answer it.

"Oh, Lizzy, hey!"

Wendy relaxed. It was only Auntie Lizzy, thank goodness. For a moment there she'd thought it might've been…

"Are you okay, Wendy?"

She looked over at her mother, who was gazing at her with a concerned expression on her face.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine!" she replied quickly. "What are you and dad up to today?"

"Uh, nothing much," her mother said, clearly puzzled at her daughter's sudden interest in her parents lives. "We thought we might spend the morning clearing the snow away, and then go shopping this afternoon."

"I'll go with you!"

Mrs Testaburger stared at her daughter as though she'd just grown two heads. Wendy sipped her coffee and tried not to look self conscious. Previously, the thought of hanging out with her parents would have brought her out in hives, but today it seemed like her best option, particularly if she wanted to avoid seeing him.

"Well, okay, if you want to," Mrs Testaburger said uncertainly. "It's just, well; I thought you'd be seeing your new boyfriend today."

Wendy pushed her half eaten waffle away. "Why would you think that?"

"Well, I bet you haven't had much chance to see him, what with school, and your tutoring sessions with Butters," her mother said, oblivious to Wendy's cringing. "I thought you'd be looking forward to seeing him."

"We don't live in each others pockets, mom!" Wendy snapped.

"Okay!" Mrs Testaburger said in a hurt tone of voice. "No need to bite my head off!"

Wendy sighed. "I'm sorry."

"So am I," Mrs Testaburger said. She began clearing up the breakfast things. "It's your life; it's none of my business." She paused in the cleanup, and glanced at Wendy. "He does seem very keen on you though," she said slowly, as though testing the water. "All those flowers he keeps sending you!" She shook her head in admiration.

Wendy rolled her eyes. Butters had sent her some many flowers that her bedroom was starting to resemble Kew Gardens. He didn't seem to have much luck with them, though: all the flowers he'd sent were either dying or in various states of decay. Clearly Butters was an "it's the thought that counts" kind of guy.

"…and we haven't met him!" Wendy's mum was saying, when she tuned back in. "You haven't even told us his name!"

"It's just…I…" Wendy spluttered, trying to think quickly. There was no way she could tell her parents that she was dating Butters. Fortunately, she was saved by her father returning to the table.

"That was Lizzy," he said. He sounded grave. "Apparently Doug's had some kind of accident at work. He's in a pretty bad way. I said we'd head up there straight away."

"Oh of course." Wendy's mum smiled at her apologetically. "Sorry honey. I guess today's off."

Wendy plastered a smile to her face and joined in with all the platitudes about Poor Uncle Doug, but inside she was seething. Goddamn Uncle Doug. The old lush had probably been drunk at the wheel of his forklift again. She hung around as her parents prepared for their trip, then went to the front door to see them off.

"See you in a few days, honey!" her mum said as she kissed her goodbye.

Her dad was more pragmatic. "No parties, okay?"

After they'd gone, Wendy switched on the TV and flicked through the seemingly endless channels, watching a couple of gameshows and an old soap she hadn't seen for years. It was only the sight of some evangelical preacher trying to con money out of gullible people that finally made her turn the TV off. She prowled the house, looking for something to do, and ended up in her bedroom, gazing at her mobile phone, which, unusually for her, was switched off, because all the calls and texts from Butters depressed her. She picked it up, and considered calling Bebe, or one of the other girls. She scrolled through her contact list thoughtfully. Red? Powder? Annie? No, not Annie. She was acting far too weird lately.

She had just decided to call Red when the doorbell chimed. Wendy went to her window and peered out at the caller, and her eyes widened. Butters stood gazing hopefully at the front door, holding yet another bunch of bloody flowers.

"Shit!"

Wendy darted away from the window, and stood for a moment, wondering what the hell to do. If Butters got any hint that she was at home, he'd never leave. Breathing deeply, she grabbed her phone and handbag, and made her way quietly down the stairs. She grabbed her coat off a hook in the hallway and tiptoed toward the kitchen and the safety of the back door. She jumped as the doorbell rang again.

She had barely made it into the kitchen when the letterbox flicked up and a hopeful voice called into the house.

"Wendy? Are you there?"

"Sorry Butters," she muttered as she pulled her snowboots on. Privately, Wendy couldn't believe things had come to this: sneaking out of her own house to avoid Butters. It wasn't like the poor guy had done anything wrong. She felt like a complete coward.

With one last apologetic look behind her, she slipped out of the back door.

*

As usual for a Saturday, Shakey's was busy. Wendy walked in and glanced furtively around. She spied her friends sitting in a booth next to the front window and headed over. Bebe smiled at her as she approached.

"Hey! We didn't think you were coming! I thought you were on Butters Watch!"

"I was, until he turned up at my house! I don't know how much more of this I can take." Wendy sighed. "I'm gonna get a drink." She looked around for a waiter.

On the other side of the room, Stan watched his ex-girlfriend. Kyle sat opposite, his phone clamped to his ear.

"Wendy and Butters," Stan said quietly. "I still can't believe it."

"Dude, you can't keep obsessing over this!" Kyle said, his voice muffled by the black scarf which he again had wound around his neck and mouth. "You've gotta move on. She has."

"But she looks so miserable."

"Stan, she's dating Butters! Hell, I'd be miserable too!" Kyle removed his phone and looked at it thoughtfully. "Kenny's still not answering. You think he's okay?"

"I'm sure he's fine. He's probably still asleep."

"It's not like him not to answer his phone, though," Kyle said, as Cartman joined them after another unsuccessful attempt to cheat the pinball machine.

"Well maybe he's busy!" Stan said irritably. "I don't know!"

"Yeah, I'll bet he's busy, all right!" Cartman said, grinning. "If I was stuck in a girl's body, I know what I'd be busy doing!"

"That's cos you're a sicko!" Stan told him. He gazed wistfully at Wendy again.

"Dude, seriously, what's with the scarf?" Cartman asked Kyle. "Did that Goth bitch give you mouth herpes or something?"

"There's no such thing as mouth herpes, Cartman!"

"Yeah there is!" Cartman said defensively. "Jews are the only ones who can get it, though!"

Bebe strutted past, on her way back from the toilets. Bebe never walked, she always strutted, mainly because the size of her heels made it almost impossible for her to do walk normally. Stan grabbed her arm as she passed their table.

"Bebe! Is Wendy all right?"

"None of your business!" Bebe replied rudely.

"Ah, come on Bebe!" Stan said, looking at her imploringly. "I'm really worried about her!"

Bebe looked at him almost sympathetically. "Okay, look," she said. "She's having a little trouble right now, but it's something only she can sort out. It's nice that you're concerned, but you can't really help her. I'll tell her you asked, though."

She smiled at him, and began the short strut back to her table.

"Hey Bebe!" Cartman called after her. "You wanna suck on my white chocolate salty balls?"

"Fuck off, skank!"

"Lesbian!"

Bebe rolled her eyes as she sat down. "Why are boys so disgusting?" she asked.

"Because they're boys," Red replied. "Anyway, what did Stan want?"

"He asked if Wendy was okay, that's all."

"He did?" Wendy turned around and looked at Stan, her eyes misting.

"Forget him!" Red said, following Wendy's gaze. "There's only one reason a guy asks after a girl. He thinks he's still in with a chance!"

"You're right." Wendy turned back around. As she did so, she caught sight of someone – a blonde someone - passing the window. She gasped and ducked under the table.

"Relax, it's Tweek, not Butters," Powder said.

Wendy sat up, feeling foolish.

"You're right, you can't go on like this," Heidi said. "You've gotta kick him to the kerb."

"I can't!" Wendy said passionately. "It would really hurt him, and he doesn't deserve that. He's such a sweet guy, and none of this is his fault. It's all mine."

"Sure, but what's the alternative?" Red asked.

"I don't know."

"Wendy, the longer you put it off, the more painful it's gonna be, for both of you," Bebe said quietly. "It's nice that you wanna protect him, but he's gonna end up getting hurt one way or another."

Wendy smiled sadly. "You're right," she said. "It's gonna be hard, but I've got no choice, have I? I know what I've gotta do."

Aww, poor Butters! Anyway, please review!

Chapter 11 up soon…