Author's Note: That was a shocker, eh? Trust me… high school drama will become even more prevalent in these next few chapters. xD

Disclaimer: It's not mine, it hasn't been mine, and it never will be mine… which sucks really hard.

Cartman Was Right

Chapter 4

And This is How it Goes…

It was like some sort of scene out of a cheap high school fan fiction (A/N: Go figure xD). Standing, no… looming above the two of them like a vulture was Sheila Broflovski with her hands on her hips and her heavy brow set in a wrinkle of disappointment. A light flicked on and illuminated the dingy locker room and its faded yellow walls.

"Mom?" Bebe asked, standing up abruptly when she remembered the suggestive position she was in. Kyle was left to scramble up behind her whilst rubbing his abused ribcage. "What're you doing here?" Water was still falling all around her drenched body.

"How'd you even know we were here?" Kyle asked, becoming unpleasantly suspicious of his mother's ability to read minds once again.

Before she could answer, Mr. Mackey appeared next to Kyle's mother, looking even more spindly than usual beside the large woman. Now the two of them knew who had turned on the lights. "Mmkay…" he said slowly, shaking a disapproving finger at the two students. Kyle reached behind him awkwardly and turned off the water. "Skipping detention's bad, mmkay. And so is having sex in the showers. Now I think you both need to get back home, mmkay. And, Kyle, you'll have to finish your detention tomorrow after school, mmkay."

The two of them shared a look of dismay before Sheila grabbed Bebe's arms to get her attention. "Where have you been? Your father and I have been worried sick!" She grabbed a towel to dry off the person she believed to be her son. "Honestly, Bubby, it's dark out already…" she continued, her tone softening a little as she wrapped Bebe up in the towel and shuffled through the pile of PE clothes that Kyle had brought with him. Within minutes, Bebe was dried and shepherded out of the room, Mr. Mackey in tow.

Meanwhile, Kyle was left to fend for himself. The Mexican janitor, Mr. Venezuela, was now standing at the door to the locker room, clicking impatiently while Kyle dried off and put on a fresh change of clothes. Let it need not be said that he kept his nose skyward as he stripped off the wet clothes and donned the dry ones inside the shower stall.

He was somewhat unsettled by the fact that Bebe's mother hadn't been beside his own. It was an odd sensation, having a little bit of freedom when he was so accustomed to his mom breathing down his neck while he used the internet or checking up on him in his room every four and a half minutes as though expecting to catch him in the act of smoking a joint.

The sad thing was, despite his complaints and pleas for freedom, he missed the tenderness of a mother's loving caress, the security that came from a hug, even if the giver was a head shorter than him.

Kyle pulled on Bebe's red jacket and pulled his wet hair into a sloppy bun before leaving the locker room in a hurry; Terrence and Phillip was about to start, and he was subjected to walking home in the Colorado winter.

--

Bebe made a stop at Kyle's locker for his math book (she only did it to keep up appearances; there was no way she could do calculus) before following his mother to the car. She tried and failed to open the locker three times before she realized that she was using her own combination on the lock. "Oh, God damn it…" she muttered.

"Kyle?"

Bebe nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard someone else behind her, but she relaxed when she saw her friend Rebecca peering from around the corner. "Hey, Rebecca!" she said, sounding too happy to see her. "Why're you still at school?"

Rebecca smiled and seemed to take her friend's greeting a good sign and slid herself between Bebe and Kyle's locker, fidgeting her hands in front of her. Bebe faltered. "What're you doing?" Her arm was still extended to Kyle's lock, giving the false impression that she had pinned Rebecca between herself and the locker.

"A lot of girls really like you, Kyle."

Bebe froze, somewhat disturbed. "Thanks…?" How was one supposed to respond to something like that?

"I really like you, Kyle… And I think about you all the time." Did she just like saying his name or something? "I read the poems that you write online all the time… every night before bed, usually."

Bebe felt her upper lip twitch; that was just weird. "Cool…?" she said hesitantly. Jew boy writes poems?

"Do you want to go to the dance with me?" Rebecca spat out as though she had been struggling with swallowing her word vomit for days.

"Excuse me?"

"I mean… I know it's kinda last minute… but – "

"I'm going with Bebe," Bebe said automatically, cutting off her friend in mid-sentence. She didn't mean to sound rude, but going to a dance with a girl when there were so many attractive boys around was simply out of the question.

Rebecca raised a plucked eyebrow. "That's not what Bebe said when I asked her."

"Well, it's true!" Bebe retorted, suddenly feeling another testosterone rush as she became overwhelmed with inexplicable feelings of offense toward Kyle and jealousy toward Rebecca. What did it matter if some other girl liked him?

"Why do you want to go with her so badly?!" It sounded almost like a whine.

"Because… because I like her!" It was the first thing she could come up with to say.

"How can you like her still?!" Rebecca responded in outrage. "It's been four years! And all she does is laugh at you! She's a total bitch sometimes!"

Bebe glared and had to swallow the urge to yell. "You're her friend, you know. Who's the bitchy one now, huh? Why don't you just go crawl away and find someone else to annoy?!" Her voice was dripping with so much spite that the anger was starting to make her hands shake.

Miffed and looking as though she were about to cry, Rebecca turned on her heel and strutted off with her nose pointed in the air.

So that's how it is, Bebe wondered. Girls really don't care about anything else… And then, He's liked me for four years? What just happened? She questioned to herself as she completely forgot about her books and went out into the parking lot to meet Kyle's mom. Why hadn't Rebecca ever told her that she had a thing for Kyle? Unless she expected something between her and Kyle in the first place… what did it look like from the outside before they'd switched bodies?

"Hurry up, Bubby, the engine's running."

Bebe pushed her thoughts aside and clambered into the passenger seat after the minivan had pulled up alongside the curb. "Mom? Couldn't we have given Bebe a ride home?" She was more concerned with how her body's hair would look the next morning than Kyle's currently red nose and icy fingers.

Sheila Broflovski emitted a noise of disbelief and nearly hit an elderly woman that was crossing the street at the wrong place. "Kyle, sweetie, I think your father and I need to give you a talk about girls when we get home." She was obviously still disturbed by the whole shower incident…

"I know what sex is, Mom – "

"Just because you know what it is doesn't mean you should be doing it in the shower," she replied sternly.

"But we weren't – "

Kyle's mother ended the argument without a word and instead turned up the volume on the radio so that the fuzzy mariachi music drowned out any attempts at spoken word. "Bitch…" Bebe mumbled.

"What was that, hun?"

"Nothing, mom," she said as the car pulled into the driveway with a screech of tires. She got out of the vehicle and followed Sheila Broflovski begrudgingly into the house where she was greeted by Kyle's dad as soon and she had taken off her shoes on the landing; Kyle's mom had gone up to the master bedroom to allow for some "father-son" bonding time.

"Kyle…" Gerald appeared to be chewing on his tongue as he thought about how to say his next words as he led Bebe over to the nearest couch. He observed the body of his son with scrutiny. "When I was your age," he began wisely, "I went through the same exact thing."

Bebe scoffed. "I doubt it," she muttered under her breath.

"I know girl's seem really hot all of a sudden… but you really need to remember to exert some control over yourself."

Being a girl, Bebe didn't know exactly how to respond, so she said the first thing that came to mind… from her experience with Clyde anyway… "I know, dad… It just gets really hard sometimes…" When Mr. Broflovski gave her a look she recognized as the "stink eye," she repeated what she said inside her own head and promptly turned a bright shade of red as she realized the innuendo. "Oh! No! I mean… it's difficult! It gets difficult!"

Kyle's dad brushed it off and rubbed an unsettled hand across his bearded chin. "Well…" he said slowly, adjusting his yarmulke to give his hands something to do. "Whatever the reason may be, Kyle, your mom and I both think that you should have these." With that, he pulled out a small box from his coat pocket and shoved it into his supposed son's hand.

Bebe took a closer look at the object in her grasp and literally felt her eyes bug out: it was a box of Trojan brand condoms.

--

Mrs. Stevens wasn't even at home when Kyle got there wet and shivering like a butterfly in the breeze. He found a sloppy note written on the fridge telling him to leave a list of groceries for her to buy the following day and informing him that she had gone shopping in Denver; he cringed when he saw that she had misspelled "mall." So, rolling his eyes, he decided to cook something for himself that wasn't swimming with nitrites.

The fridge, as he had discovered the night before, had very little inside it that was edible, but a yellow, plastic package of processed meat caught his eye, so he picked it up and read the label: ham. Shrugging, he tore off the corner and took a nibble off of the corner of one of the circular pieces of cured meat. His eyes went wide when he tasted it, and suddenly he found that he had eaten the entire package.

"Oh… my… God…" he said to himself, already knowing what he needed to add to Mrs. Stevens' grocery list. He ran up to Bebe's room without a second thought in search of a pencil and some paper. To his dismay, there were no writing utensils in sight.

Why did girls have to keep their rooms so freaking clean? He wondered upon entering her sleeping quarters. By putting everything neatly away, Bebe had made it nearly impossible for Kyle to find anything. He tipped over the old swivel chair in her room in his search for a blanket or something to keep his shoulders from shaking. In exasperation, he flung open the door on her desk and dragged out a large pile of folders, some of which looked as though they had not been touched in years, and flopped onto her bed with them in tow. A manila folder, covered in flower stickers and marked as "confidential," caught his eye, and he opened it in curiosity. He very nearly fell over laughing when he saw what it was.

It was a copy of "the list," the very one that had nearly convinced Kyle to burn down the school back when he was nine. He had totally forgotten about it within a week of the whole incident, but that didn't stop him from chewing his nails over it for a few days. And when he didn't care in the slightest, he found the document clutched firmly in his hands.

What incredible irony.

Shrugging to himself and thinking that he was definitely mature enough to handle such a devastating truth by now, Kyle turned over the paper in his hands. As expected, there was a list of the names of all the boys in the fourth grade class, beside which each girl signed her initials followed by a circled number; Kyle supposed this was the so-called "ranking."

He scrolled down and saw with grim satisfaction that Cartman had indeed been voted last. It was also no surprise that Kenny had been voted the cutest almost unanimously; Kyle rolled his eyes to cover up a laugh. Clearly girls didn't care very much about poverty when they couldn't even add fractions yet.

He found his own name next to the number six, but what surprised him the most was that Bebe's unmistakable signature was written right beside a "one" drawn in red pen and circled so blatantly that one would have had to be visually impaired to not see it. His innate reaction to laugh at her was unexpectedly suppressed when he felt the corners of his mouth tug upwards in the slightest arc of a smile. In the back of his mind, he wondered whether or not she still remembered having voted him the cutest boy, which was what caused him to enter the classroom grinning his ass off the next day.

"What?" Bebe asked him, annoyed, as she eyed the body that was again clad in gym shorts, a t-shirt, and a sweatshirt; she was still unsettled by the gracious gift Mr. Broflovski had bestowed upon her the day before.

He simply gave her a look that said: "I know something you don't know" and sat down beside her. "I found the list," he stated bluntly.

"What are you talking about?"

But Mr. Garrison had already started taking attendance before the bell had rung. "Token? Kyle? Eric?" Each name was answered by a raised hand. "Okay, class…" he droned after closing his roll sheet. "That's the bell, so it looks like you'd better get your asses to P.E." He returned to his desk and whipped out his monthly copy of Cosmogirl.

While the rest of the class walked nonchalantly toward the door, chattering happily about this and that, Kyle and Bebe remained in their seats staring at each other with identical masks of horror on their faces; they had both forgotten that P.E. was on Wednesdays. It wasn't until Wendy grabbed onto Kyle's arm and pulled him along behind her that Bebe resigned herself to following Stan to the showers with no other alternative. She watched her own body disappear around a corner.

"Dude, are you okay? You look like you just brushed your teeth and then drank a gallon of orange juice."

"I'm fine… I guess…"

"Well then, let's go." Stan beckoned her into the locker room, and she followed stiffly, taking extra care to tuck in her arms so as not to bump into anything or anyone. The boys' locker room was hot and humid due to the steam from the showers.

All of a sudden, Tweek, clad only in a towel, ran past Bebe screaming something about gnomes stealing his PE shorts. Bebe looked away, slightly pink in the face, when Craig soon followed suit ("Tweek! Get back here!"). Needless to say, Craig was more toned and muscular than Tweek, who was so thin that one could see his ribs, and Bebe literally felt her eyes bug out and her mouth become dry when she watched the muscles of his bare back, glistening with steam from the shower, ripple as he chased after the caffeine-dependent boy. "Jesus…" she whispered to herself in silent awe, pulling on the collar of her jacket in a futile attempt to cool herself down.

"What're you staring at?"

Stan's voice brought Bebe back to Earth with so much force that she jumped a foot into the air. "Uh… uh, I, uh…" she floundered, for Stan had removed his shirt and was staring at her with a look on his face that clearly read, "What the hell?"

Oh my God… He was better looking than Craig, if that was even possible, and Bebe felt a sudden yet brief surge of jealously toward Wendy. By that point, she was gaping openly at his bare chest, unaware of the fact that she was beginning to attract the attention of the other boys in the room.

"I think he's a fag…" someone mumbled, but Bebe was too absorbed in ogling Stan to care.

"Jesus, Kyle… stop drooling already. I know I'm hot, it's okay," Stan laughed, obviously secure enough with his own sexuality to make a homosexual insinuation. Bebe's eyes strayed down to his waist where he was currently unbuttoning his jeans; she spun around so fast that she slipped, causing her hat to fly off her head and land on the floor near a pair of bare legs.

"Here." Bebe looked up into the blue-green eyes of Kenny McCormick, who, like the rest of the males in the room, was tormenting her with his exposed arms and torso. Furthermore, his typically covered head was revealed, unveiling a boyish face and shaggy blond hair that fell dreamily about his eyes as he held out the ushanka for her to take.

Bebe was sure that she was going to start hyperventilating. She willed herself to speak, but no words came out. Kenny raised an eyebrow, set her hat back on top of Bebe's head, and then walked back to his locker.

Bebe followed his rear with her eyes all the way out of her line of vision.

--

Kyle wasn't having an easier time across the hall.

"Wendy?" he croaked as the two of them stopped in front of the section in which their lockers were located inconveniently next to each other amongst the synthetic scents of flowery body spray and deodorant. "I think I need to go home."

"Do you have cramps? I know yours get really bad sometimes…"

Kyle managed to suppress a grimace. "No, no… It's none of that." He tried to ignore the fact that Wendy, as well as several other girls around him, was removing her blouse.

"Oh," she replied. "That's good. Listen, Bebe… you know how I told you that my breasts grew last week?"

Kyle blushed, making a mental decision not to remove anything from his – or rather Bebe's – body. This is so wrong… "W-What…?!" There he was as a girl and talking to his best friend's girlfriend about her breasts. That seemed pretty fucked up, to say the least…

"Well," Wendy continued, shrugging off her shirt over her slim shoulders. "I bought a new bra yesterday, and since it's my anniversary with Stan, I wanted to wear it…" she blushed. "I mean… I don't exactly know what's going to happen later, and I wanted to be prepared at least…" She spun herself around full force and Kyle was unexpectedly greeted by her cleavage. "What do you think?"

The lingerie was made of pale pink lace, but all Kyle could look at was the junction in the middle of her bust, which was covered by a tiny pink bow that only emphasized the pale color of her exposed flesh. "Wow…" he heard himself breathe against his will as he stared openly at her chest; what Stan didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

"Really? I'm glad you like it!" Wendy replied enthusiastically, clasping her hands in front of her in a way that pushed the two mounds of flesh just a little more closely together.

Kyle merely nodded, eyes unblinking.

He stared at her until she pulled a grey t-shirt over her head, and then he suddenly came to his senses as if treated by some sort of counter spell. "Bebe, why aren't you dressed yet?" he heard Wendy's voice ask him innocently.

Kyle felt as though he were going to pass out. "I forgot my clothes at home," he said as an excuse, but Wendy just laughed and used her persuasive talents to get Kyle to change out of his cardigan and into his gym shorts, which revealed quite a bit of his feminine legs.

"You look good, Bebe. Kyle doesn't stand a chance." Wendy winked, joined in the herd of the other girls heading out, and left Kyle standing dumbfounded in the locker room.

"Hey!" he yelled, coming to his senses and running after her to the school gymnasium, practically tripping on her own feet. "What do you mean by that? 'Kyle doesn't stand a chance'?" But Wendy silenced him with a finger pressed delicately to her lips and pointed subtly to the boys, who were strutting toward the girls, brushing their hands through their hair and grinning handsomely every several seconds. Wendy saw Stan scratch the back of his neck when he made eye contact with her, and she sighed in private delight before going to meet him and linking his fingers with hers.

"Hello, kids!" Dumb as an ox, Officer Barbrady appeared in front of Kyle like a blue wall. "Your teacher's out today… so they asked me to fill in for him!"

"Do you even have a teaching credential, sir?" Kyle asked him mockingly.

"… Yes," he responded after a lengthy pause, walking toward the bleachers and promptly falling asleep.

The Jew nudged the girl nearest to him, who happened to be Rebecca. "Oh, yeah," he joked. "He's a keeper." He raised an eyebrow when she gave him the cold shoulder and walked away. Kyle rolled his eyes yet again and simply strolled over to his own body, which was grimacing in embarrassment. "Hey." He raised an eyebrow.

"That…" Bebe began, "was the most embarrassing experience of my entire life…" She put her flaming face in an upturned palm.

"Likewise."

"Kyle?"

"What?"

"Kenny's really hot…" she practically groaned in a manner that was almost lustful.

"Don't say that! You're a guy!"

"But still…" She made a delicate fanning motion over her dreamy face, and her eyes rolled ever so slightly back into her head.

"Would you stop that?!" Kyle scowled, partly out of jealousy. "You look like you've just gotten laid or something!"

Bebe rolled her aqua eyes and put a hand on her hip. "Just try to stop me." She pulled a childish stunt and stuck out her tongue at Kyle, to which he replied with a look of disbelief.

"Hey!" a voice yelled from the other end of the gym. "Heads up!"

"Look out!" Kyle yelled.

"Huh?" Bebe turned her head to meet the voice, but she was too slow to react to the dodge ball that had been chucked in her direction. Her girl reflexes told her to cover her face, but the ball hit her in the groin, and an overwhelming pain came over her that caused extreme feelings of nausea and ultimately caused her to be overcome by blackness for the second time in the last three days.

--

Bebe came to in the middle of a circle of onlookers surrounding her, the majority of them dressed in South Park High PE uniforms. All of a sudden, a pair of hands grabbed her collar.

Kyle ignored the whispers of his fellow students and flung himself at his own body. "Please tell me you're still going to be able to reproduce!" Bebe saw her own face swim into focus in front of her with a look of mingled horror and anxiety on its girly features.

"Wha…?"

"I swear to God, if you broke anything…" Kyle trailed off, flexing his fingers and very nearly popping a vein in his temple.

"What're you talking about?"

"Dude, you just got hit in the nuts with a dodge ball," she heard Craig say somewhere to her left. He emitted a throaty snicker.

Without warning, and to the horror of everyone in the room, Bebe burst into tears, sitting up, slouching her shoulders, and positively wailing at the top of her lungs. At first, Kyle thought it was because she was still injured and had rediscovered the pain, but he was soon proven otherwise. "I'm still a guy!" And she let out a yell that had the entire class jam their hands over their ears.

"Jesus, dude!" Stan managed, to which Bebe only cried harder.

"Shut up, you faggy Jew!" Cartman yelled above the din. "Stop acting like such a girl!"

Kyle growled and felt oddly inspired to aid the fat boy in sharing Bebe's pain. He stamped on his foot instead.

"Ay! What the hell are you doing, dyke?"

Bebe stopped her tears long enough to retort by saying, "She's not a dyke, you fucking fat ass!"

"And he's not a fag, asshole!" Kyle chipped in.

"You wanna go?" Cartman faced Kyle squarely and held out his arms, making hand motions inviting him to rush forward. "Bring it, bitch."

A murmur came up from the crowd, but before either Kyle or Cartman could take another step, Officer Barbrady woke up, though it was difficult to tell at first because of his designer sunglasses. He looked at his watch. "Oh, fish sticks, children… it looks like it's time to go!" He shepherded them out by threatening to hit them with his baton.

Bebe winced as she slid out of her shorts and put her jeans back on. "Ow…"

Stan offered her a pitying look. "Dude… I'm really beginning to think that something isn't right; what guy covers his face during a game of dodge ball?"

Bebe chose not to answer and just pulled on the orange jacket over her head with a frown on her face. "Let's just go," she demanded curtly. She left Stan and walked past the other boys without so much as a second glance. She folded her arms in front of her and felt something in the breast pocket of the coat. Upon reaching in, she pulled out the scarf she had lent to Kyle several days ago. What's this doing here? But she was distracted by a crowd that had formed in front of her as she exited the locker room (her gait was slightly irregular) and found herself next to Kyle yet again.

"What the hell's everyone staring at?" For a chattering crowd had gathered outside the gym around the school bulletin board.

Kyle had to stand on his tiptoes to see anything because of his current status on the lower end of the height scale. "Oh, shit…" he breathed, hearing Bebe whisper a profanity under her breath as well.

Right on the front page of the daily school bulletin was a snapshot of him and Bebe lying together on the floor of the boys' shower.

Standing beside the picture was Cartman, leaning against the wall with a smug smirk on his face.

Author's Note: And the drama continues? xD I hope this was kinda exciting; a lot of stuff happened in this chapter. That means there's plenty to review about (hint hint). LoL, okay… I'll leave you to do your thing. –Points a

Waste-o-Tron I'm really glad you like the story so far; it means a lot! I hope you liked this chapter too!

Lillyfan123 First of all, I really love getting your reviews; they make me feel compelled to continue writing. I'm so glad you're liking this story too… It's nice to know that there are other KyBe fans out there.

Ceylon Sorry for the wait! I hope you found this chapter entertaining; I know the shower scene probably wasn't as epic as you would have like, LoL.

Missashleywise Aw! Thank you for your review! It really made my day! I'm so glad you're liking the story thus far!

XxLoveStanxX I have to say I was almost hurt that it took you so long to review, LoL. I'm kinda kidding, of course. But I know how it is… life's hectic for me now, and I'm struggling to try to post these chapters… I really love getting reviews from you especially since you're already such an esteemed South Park writer.

tubular-turtle Sorry for the wait! I hope this made up for it!

Thanks again to everyone who reviewed the previous chapters as well… It really means a lot to me!