SOUTH PARK BELONGS TO TREY PARKER AND MATT STONE
Yeah, sure, he was right; Stan was very right: it was pointless to fight over something as stupid as a pair of tits. All of the boys suddenly realized that Bebe was not as smart, funny or pretty as they thought she was and she had to return to her usual group of friends, formed exclusively by females. They only accepted her back in because of the boys' renewed indifference—she wasn't a whore anymore.
Or at least that was what it seemed at first. Because there was still a boy who looked at Bebe all the time.
She and her confidants thought for a while that it was because his head was somewhere beyond this world, found every little thing around him interesting—who knew for sure. Because all symptoms of the boob fever had disappeared. But Red came up with the idea that perhaps he was really interested in Bebe not because her locks were pretty when light touched them or she had an outstanding sense of fashion—but because there was still a little trace from his obsession. She wanted Bebe to consider that perhaps... he honestly liked her.
Yes, it was starting to feel evident that Timmy still liked Bebe. Perhaps it was the boobs' powerful attraction still having an effect on him. Bebe brought the box once again to class to confirm this was the reason.
"Bebe, what the hell are you doing with that thing again?" Mr. Garrison asked.
She didn't listen, her attention was on Timmy's reaction. He seemed a little surprised when he saw her coming through the door with it, but he still looked at her with that stupid smile. That day he even approached before recess to slur that he liked how it looked on her.
"The evidence is clear: Timmy has a crush on Bebe." Theresa sentenced at their last meeting.
Bebe almost wanted the desk to have a trap door and disappear from all those eyes and snickers.
"You don't have to feel ashamed, Bebe." The girls told her.
"It's not your fault."
"Sure not!"
"What can I do?" Bebe lamented herself.
"Let's see. According to our records, Timmy's parents work in an office and in a supermarket. Nothing interesting." Wendy consulted the documents.
"What is his position in the Cute Boy List?" Red asked.
"Fourteenth out of sixteen." Annie replied, checking it.
"He isn't known for giving good gifts." Ashley pointed out.
"Or his conversation." Nicole added.
"I think the verdict is unanimous: he isn't right for you. You shouldn't like him back." Red said.
"I already knew that! I never said that was an option! Seriously, what can I do? I can't just tell him to leave me alone!" Bebe exclaimed.
"Why?" Nicole asked.
"Why? Oh, my God, Nicole, because you can't do that to a guy from Special Ed. Everyone will say I'm an ableist and a heartless bitch."
"But you have to tell him you're not interested. Politely, of course. Let's see, bring the Excuses Catalogue." Wendy proposed.
The guardian inspected the document drawer carefully, folder after folder, discarding lists, catalogues and manuals, until she found the notebook they were looking for. It was handed to Wendy.
"...What about 'you are too special for me'?"
"Eh. What else?" Bebe muttered.
"'I need to focus on myself right now', 'we're better off as friends'..."
"We are not even friends, we're just in the same class."
"'I am already dating someone'..."
"I know a few boys who would be so glad to pass as your boyfriend." Theresa said.
"Ew, Theresa, please." Bebe wrinkled her nose.
"'We are just not compatible'." Wendy continued.
"Of course not. You know what? I'll just use the first one coming to my mind: I don't even know if he will understand to begin with." Bebe said, standing up with determination.
"But remember, Bebe: be gentle." Annie remarked.
"Yeah, yeah, I know."
The following day, as soon as she set foot in the school, Bebe was determined to find Timmy and tell him right away. No excuses. She knew by experience that it was better not to let boys get their hopes up. She had thought of asking a friend to tell him, but she ultimately rejected the idea—as awkward that moment would be for sure: it was something she had to do herself.
"Hi, Timmy."
Timmy was so excited about Bebe talking to him, obviously, that he closed his locker brusquely, startling her.
"Timmy." Timmy greeted her back with a singing voice.
"Uh...Listen, there's something I'd like to m-"
"Timmy. Timmy Timmy."
"What?"
Actually, she understood perfectly. He had something for her? Bebe didn't know what to say to that. But she couldn't give up so soon.
"Timmy."
The boy had something in his bag, a package which he gave to her. It was evident that he had tried to wrap it himself, though he only managed to spoil a pretty paper.
"Timmy, I..."
Timmy shook the package again, and Bebe saw there was no escape.
"You didn't have to..." she muttered as she finally accepted it.
She opened it in front of him, since he was so eager. Bebe prepared to use her acting skills.
"Oh..."
A necklace of a heart with a pink flower in the center. As much as it shined, Bebe noted that it was not real silver.
"Timmy Timmy Timmy" Timmy explained. His mom told him that girls liked jewelry, so he thought she would like it.
"Yeah, sure I like it." Real jewelry, that is. Knowing that he asked his mom for advice (she doubted about her good judgement) just confirmed that this couldn't go anywhere. "Listen, uh, I really appreciate this, but-"
"Come on, Timmy! We're gonna be late!" One kid from Special Ed passed by them, shaking an arm.
"Ah, Timmy! Timmy" Remembering that they were at school and that their duty was to attend the classes, Timmy got out from Bebe's cloud and hurried to follow his partner.
"Wait!"
But it was too late. He was gone. Bebe looked at the gift in her hand and sighed.
That chaged nothing. The next day she would be more direct.
He was laughing with Token. It would have been better if she had found him completely alone, but that wouldn't stop her.
"Hi, boys. Hi, Token. Hey, Timmy, can I talk to you for a second?"
"Timmy!" Timmy nodded so hard that he would have hit the floor with his head. But he didn't move, and Token was looking at them both with vivid curiosity.
"Alone." Bebe remarked.
Not saying a thing, Timmy drove away from them, to a remote corner. Bebe followed.
"Timmy, there was something I wanted to tell you yesterday. Please, don't take it the wrong way. You're a good guy. I just-"
A sudden hit in the head made her yelp and then curse aloud. A ball rolled to Timmy's feet.
"The hell was that?!" Bebe exclaimed.
"Timmy?" Timmy muttered.
"Hey, blondie, pass the ball!" A sixth grader yelled at her.
Timmy bent to grab the ball and looked at the boy with a frown.
"Timmy, Tim Timmy!"
"The hell you're saying, kid? Come on, gimme the ball." The boy approached grudgingly.
"He says you have to apologize to me first, and you really should! That hurt!" Bebe replied, her hands on her hips.
"I wipe my ass with stupid blondies like you. And you, you're lucky you're a retard, because I would-"
Bebe gasped when Timmy punched the sixth grader with so much force that he made him bent. Then, once again, in the ribcage, and in the nose. He had never seemed the athletic type to her, but that had to hurt, because the bully wasn't that cocky now.
"Timmy!" Timmy spouted, bumping his wheelchair into him again and again until he got the message and ran away.
Then, he rolled the ball away and looked at Bebe with a much softer expression.
"Timmy?"
"Y-Yeah, I'm fine, it was nothing, really. But you probably shouldn't have done that. You know what sixth graders are like, and they'll be..."
She didn't need to finish the sentence. Five taller boys appeared and cornered them.
"What the fuck is your problem, turds?" A ginger faced them.
"You think you're hot shit, huh?" Another one spat at Bebe's feet, spoiling her shoes. "These little pricks need a lesson."
"HEY, WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?"
Right when Bebe was starting to get nervous, her salvation came in the form of a tall, muscled man with shades. PC Principal just had to approach for the boys' faces to change drastically.
"I THINK THERE'S A CONFLICT IN HERE?" He totally didn't need to speak so loud, but it was effective nonetheless, because that was the last straw for the sixth graders.
"Nothing, Mr. Principal..." One of them answered. How different his voice sounded now, like he turned into a little lamb!
"Ah. That's what I supposed."
PC Principal didn't move or changed his expression until all of the boys were gone. Then, he turned to Bebe and Timmy.
"Were they bothering you?"
"No, Mr. Principal. Everything's alright." Bebe replied.
"Good. Also, I am glad to see minorities becoming close. Very glad." Nodding in approval, the principal walked away, leaving the pair with too many eyes on them.
Bebe felt her cheeks were burning. Everyone was looking at them. She hoped no one had misinterpreted his words.
She was going to walk away quickly when she realized there was something she hadn't done yet.
"Uh, Timmy, thanks for defending me. You didn't have to."
"Timmy." As always, Timmy showed his teeth in a wide smile.
But something particular happened: he took her hand and approached it to her mouth to leave a kiss. It was perhaps a little too wet. Bebe didn't ask for it. Too many people were still looking at them. But she didn't say a thing. If she had looked at herself, she would have seen that her skin matched her coat now.
"...Thanks, Timmy."
"Uh, Timmy?" Timmy asked her before she left.
"Ah, yeah. Nothing. Just that...Remember that we have a pop quiz next week."
"Ah, Timmy. Timmy." Timmy thank her, and went back to Token to resume the game on his phone.
Bebe walked to the swing and there she sat and sighed. She didn't dare to turn around and look at those who had surrounded her.
"...I am fine. I got this. Everything is solved." She said before anybody opened their mouth.
That was not their opinion. The girls saw the following day that Timmy carried her books to class in his lap, following her like a lap dog—the only thing missing was the tongue hanging from his open mouth. Bebe didn't seem to be worried about it; in fact, they were having a small conversation. When confronted about it after each of them took their places in class, Bebe tangled the new necklace she was wearing with her finger distractedly.
"Well, yeah, I told him, but he doesn't listen. I'll...have to live with it. He'll get tired. Eventually. I hope."
THE END
