Son of a bitch! I smash my left hand on the horn. People in South Park just don't know how to drive. Token texted me earlier about coming over, I have so much shit to do. Homework, tell Stan to leave me alone, maybe blow Token to get him off my back.
Turning into the only giant mansion in South Park, the only building where everyone always has their eyes on who is visiting. Some kid I didn't even know asked me if I was dating Token now. I didn't know I was so important.
I didn't know if I was dating Token either, he's entertaining me and a distraction from Stan.
I check my phone after I pull into what feels like a mile long driveway.
Three new messages from Stan.
(From Stan) Hey, I miss you. Sorry.
(From Stan) Wendy, I know I fucked up, like really fucked up. I'm sorry.
(From Stan) You know I love you, please call me.
I refuse to acknowledge him right now, they best way to get over an addiction is to do it cold turkey.
After slamming the door of my dirty car, Token waves at me to hurry up through the giant living room window.
Here we go again.
Laying nude in linen sheets after a tedious day brightens my mood, if only by slightly. I know Token's elegant bedroom too well by now. Three signed bass guitars line the right wall, I never ask who signed them, I always forget to. Token triumphantly returns from discarding the condom he filled earlier.
"You alright? You seem more upset than usual." Inquiring while his limp dick is still in view, man Token's so sultry, Stan would always act so weird around me and repeatedly apologize after sex, it didn't matter if he did something wrong, he was doing it with me. That's what mattered.
"Wendy?" Stepping into the room, trying to find his underwear most likely.
"Oh yeah, I'm good, just a bit dazed." Giggling in an attempt for him to not press any further, I know I'm not at full capacity.
He laughs along, "I didn't know I was that good." Flattering himself, of course, I'm not sure how you could quantify how well someone has sex. From an experimental point of view, perhaps? I should stop being a nerd and put some clothes on.
"Yeah, could you hand me my sweater?" Quickly tossing up my clothes on to his bed, he flashes a smile at me. "Thanks," I say while trying to fix my hair before I threw my top back on.
A phone dances and sings against the hardwood, I'm glad that it didn't interrupt us earlier.
"Shit, my mom's calling me." Token dashes for his cell phone on his dresser.
As I fully redress, Token responded with "yeses" and "of course, I didn't forgets." over the phone.
He hangs up, and I think I clean up well.
"Hey, I have to go to a dinner party with my mother, something about meeting her new boss' family." Gruff, he speaks as he walks over to his large antique armoire.
I'm guessing this is my cue to leave, "I'll see you later then?"
"Yeah babe, I'll call you." Pausing in between selecting his suit, gives me a peck on the cheek.
Getting lost in between the library and billiard room, Token's mansion is a maze, I'm always super confused, even though the front door never changes.
I eventually find my way back into the cold, the snow blows up into my face, it stings. I run to shelter desperately.
Deciding to just idle in my car, it takes a while for the heat to work. It's only five o'clock and I'm still bored, my ignored phone jingles in my purse.
(From Stan) Please answer me. I'm so sorry, Wendy, please talk to me. I need you.
(From Bebe) Yo, what up!
I tap the call button, only two rings before she picks up. "Hey Bebe, what are you doing?"
"I was just at Clyde's, you wanna watch me paint my nails? It'll be really exciting, my old paint job is already chipping, I'm so pissed." She breathes in on the other line.
"I'll be right there, I'm at Token's."
I hear her gasp and ooh. "Good for you! I'll see you in a bit." She hangs up.
I put my car in reverse, it didn't take too long to drive all the way to Bebe's, longer than I would have liked, they didn't plow the snowy streets. We live in South Park, come on.
Bebe's bright red car illuminates the snow. I half ass park on the street, I hope someone hits it, it would give me an excuse to get a new one.
Bebe is standing in her doorway.
"It's fucking freezing!" She tells me.
"Yeah it's October, you've lived here for what, a decade?"
"Don't be a buzzkill, Wendy, do you want me to paint your nails too? I got all my shit together." Bebe nods as we walk up her stairs.
I shed my jackets on her bed, Bebe's collection of nail polish had accumulated over the years. She had every color on the spectrum, I'm sure of it.
"Ugh, I still have physics homework to do. I'll do it after my nails dry, I guess." Bebe grabs a handful of bottles and sat on the floor, I sat with her.
"I have some physics problems left too, fuck me." I sigh.
"It's cool, we'll struggle together. What colors do you want?" She picked up some a purple nail polish bottle and shook it.
My phone screams from my bag on her bed.
"Who's calling you?" I could whittle down the possibilities, standing up and checking.
Missed call from Stan
(From Stan) Please Wendy, where are you? I just want to talk to you.
I ignore the messages and sit back down.
"Black and blue." I mutter pointedly.
"Oh, shit." She picks complimenting tones. "Is it Stan?"
I sigh, "Yeah, it's Stan of course, he's being ridiculously apologetic. I don't want to take him back that easily." I pause, "He really fucked up this time. He needs to know the consequences."
Bebe nods as she motions for me to put out my hands.
"Yeah, that makes sense, ah hold still." She tells me as she puts on the base coat of paint.
"You know what, fuck boys!" Bebe decides, "Clyde is always moping about, I've tried so hard to make him feel better about his broken ankle. It's like no matter how hard I try, he's always going to be upset." She twists the top of the black nail polish back on with an angry smirk.
"You can't fix people." It hits me, more so about my situation, Clyde just needs to lick his wounds and he'll be back on his feet, metaphorically and literally.
"How's Token? He keeps asking about you, he thinks I would tell him what you said to me. Please." She chuckles.
I ponder for a bit before answering, "He's alright, he's not Stan, but I wouldn't say that he's better." I know I'm numbing myself with Token. It's the only way I can deal with most of the bullshit I have to put up with.
"Oh yeah, you know Cartman is already trying to drag your name through the mud. It's just a stupid high school election, why does he care so goddamn much?" Bebe righteously asks.
"I'm not sure, probably just trying to snag something away from me." The grudge Cartman holds is ridiculous, he's probably pissed that I'm trying to have power within the school. The only election that does matter is the senior one. We get to decide prom, help budget the senior trip to California, put together events for graduation. It's a lot to do, and I can't let someone run that into the ground. I'm the incumbent, winning should be a breeze.
"Well I'm voting for you," Bebe smiles at me, I knew that, but it's a nice gesture.
I stop talking, allowing for Bebe to focus on her nail art.
As we let the paint dry, we turn on the television for background noise. Checking my phone again, it's pleasant, I don't get much time to hang out with Bebe like this.
Missed call from Stan
(From Stan) Wendy, please, I love you.
Ignore, "So what problems did you have left?"
Bebe reaches for her textbook, "Only a couple more."
We work on these problems for about a couple of hours while we gossip about the girls of South Park.
Bebe lets me stay over, she pulls out her old sleeping bag.
"Thanks for letting me sleep here." I say as I slip under the covers.
"It's cool Wendy, you're like my best friend." She climbs into her bed and I drift off on her dusty floor.
Thank fuck, it's the weekend, Bebe and I are standing in line so she can get the new pumpkin flavored coffee Harbucks is peddling.
"I didn't know Tucker worked here now, wonder how he got that job?" She wriggles her eyebrows while shooting her eyes at Tweek juggling one of the large orders in front of us.
I think I understand what she's trying to suggest. Tweek doesn't seem all that compatible with Craig, I'm not even sure if Craig cares about relationships, well romantic ones for that matter.
Staring at the decorations for Halloween, cobwebs on the windows, orange napkins, all the black cups, it's quaint and distracting.
We're already up to order, "Hey Craig, already ready to work to death? Clyde told me to tell you that he's flattered that you stole his job."
"Yeah, he's said that to me, what do you want?" Craig doesn't bullshit, I think that's what I like about him, because even though he can be a prick, it isn't for no reason. There's normally some logic behind him.
"Medium pumpkin latte, and whatever my date's having." Bebe points to me and I chuckle, it amuses me when she says we're on a date.
"Uh. Medium Americano. Thanks." I shuffle to the side, Bebe insisted in the car that she'd pay for me. She didn't have to.
Craig hands the order to Tweek and they hustle behind the counter.
The door opens and the bell above it rings.
"Wendy?" Familiar and deep, fuck, it's Stan. South Park's small, of course this would happen.
"What do you want?" Bebe does the talking for me, she did an accurate job. Tweek murmurs in the back. I try and look sympathetic towards him and mouthed "Sorry."
"I just want to talk to you, Wendy." He gets closer, he hasn't shaved in a while and his eyes are bloodshot.
"Do we have to do it here?" It's hard for me to speak, I'm trembling slightly, everyone's looking, at this, this spectacle.
"Bebe, Wendy, your drinks are ready." Tweek slides them on the counter. I don't even want to drink this scalding crap anymore.
"You won't answer me! So yeah, let's do it right here, in front of everyone!" He's shouting, he's upset, fuck, fuck, fuck.
"Wendy, let's go." Bebe tugs on my sleeve. We start to push our way out.
Stan walks after us, "Don't go, please, I'm sorry."
"Stan, it's too late for that." I find myself saying, I feel like I can't breathe, he's starting to cry, I don't want to kick him when he's down, but Stan never knows when he fucks up or when to stop.
We run out, I can see Stan hang his head down through the glass, god damn it. I kick some snow, "Fuck!"
"Wendy, it's okay, look at me." Bebe grabs my arm with her free hand, "If you really want to let him go, he's going to be hurt, but you can't back down, it's how it starts over."
I sigh, I know, Bebe's right. "What if I want it to start over?" My stomach hurts.
"I don't know, Wendy. Just, don't get hurt."
Shit, my stomach really hurts, I find myself bending over and vomiting onto the street without dropping my cup, good job me.
"Jesus! Wendy, are you okay? Let's go home, get you some medicine." Complying, I get ushered back into Bebe's car. I'm not sure what's wrong, I shut my eyes as Bebe buckles my own seatbelt for me like a she would do for a child.
AN: Sorry, I took my time with this chapter, I'm back at school, so I may actually have more time to write this? Who knows! Thanks to the readers and reviewers! See you next time!