Chapter 4

Three weeks passed liked lurching hiccups. Some patches of time felt like they just hung on forever. Wendy was certain that she had woken up to the clock on her night table saying 4:59 AM at least three times in a row and then suddenly it was 8:15 AM and her alarm hadn't gone off and she was late and running for the bus.

Cartman had the same problem, oddly enough. He had a calendar in his room, each day marked off with a red X in sharpie marker. Sometimes he was wondering if he was ever going to put another X on that damn calendar. Other days, he looked at the calender with astonishment- really? Only a week left? He sat in the back of the class, a silent reminder boring holes in the back of her head with his gaze when she wasn't looking. Cartman had perfected the art of looking at people who were unaware of him, largely due to growing up without very many real friends due to his shitty behavior and irredeemable actions.

He didn't give a flying fuck that he was being creepy. He knew what he wanted, and it was almost there. Some days he would have a raging hard-on under his desk, imaging and anticipating her acceptance of his deal. He loved it and hated it at the same time, knowing that this turned him on more than any foreplay or any porno. The excitement of the hunt, the knowledge that at some point, it would be over, but not quite now, not quite yet, only the realization of his dogged determination and his knowledge that she would not be able to resist his proposition.

Wendy was a little afraid but also excited. Any chance to show Cartman up and make him regret messing with her always made her feel that butterfly flutter in her stomach. She also had to admit that the idea of an all or nothing bet- her future or her life, left her feeling quite a bit flustered and more than a little off-guard. There was a frightened animal part of her brain, the part that runs with a deer that runs for its life, the fluttering tickle in her throat running through the core of her body and down through her womb, knowing that there is a chance that she won't survive, that the jaws of the beast pursuing her might close around her neck as she struggles wildly, releasing her life into the air.

The fact that the game is so dangerous put her on edge, she felt so much more daring, sexual, alive. After all who cared if she wore a skirt, or a V-neck top? Who cared if she accidentally flashed someone while riding her bike? After all, in a couple more days, she would be shaking hands with the devil and everyone knows that there are no short skirts or V-neck tops in hell. Every day, she brushed her hair a hundred times so that it was like a silk sheet of darkness, moving with her as though it were also alive. She never felt so full of life or so close to the edge of oblivion.

Something inside her loved that feeling, even though she would never admit it.

Three days...two days...one day...her birthday would be officially starting in about twenty minutes. Cartman stood outside her house at 3 AM with his cell phone. It was already frosting outside even though it was only mid October. He wore a large coat, covering his bulky frame. But even with his muscle mass and layer of fat, he was still freezing cold, but it was going to be worth it. Birth records were public, after all. She had been born at exactly 3:20 AM, no sooner, no later. And he was going to make sure she gave him his damn answer.

Wendy was awoken to the sound of her cell phone buzzing incessantly on her nightstand. Since it was still dark outside, she felt disoriented at first and then sleepily grabbed the phone (which is much harder than usual through sleep-fogged eyes) and picked it up.

"Hello?" she said sleepily, although really it came out more like, "Heug-uhhh?"

No one answered and she pulled the phone from her ear to look at the screen. It was a text from an unknown number.

LOOK OUT YOUR WINDOW it said.

Any sleep dissipated from her head instantly.

'Shit. It's Cartman. He's here for my answer,' she thought angrily, but she still went to her window and saw him standing there.

She wondered how long he had been there and, in a darker place in her head, hoped it had been at least a couple of hours. His eyes looked glassy and huge from the window- the cold had sucked out all the moisture, so he actually looked a bit teary around the corners, but she wasn't fooled. She knew he was here for business.

Her phone buzzed again.

LET ME IN HO it said and Cartman did an exaggerated shiver out the window to accentuate the point.

She sighed- 18 for not 2 minutes and she was already letting awful no-good boys into her room. Something in her stomach lurched with a sick glee at this thought. It was night. In her room. Alone. In the dark. No one to hear her...she tried to shake her head of bad thoughts and opened her window.

Even though she was on the second floor, he was able to shimmy up the tree in her yard fairly well. She giggled a bit when his foot slipped on icy branch and he shook his fist at her in annoyance but otherwise stayed uncharacteristically silent. She knew he had a stake in this too. If he woke up her overprotective parents, he'd have to wait to seal the deal until later, and that was unforgivable in Cartman's eyes.

"So," he whispered in a husky voice as he crawled in the window, "you surprised to see me, ho?"

"Don't call me a ho," Wendy replied in a quiet voice, "You woke ME up at 3 in the morning and wanted to come into my bedroom in the middle of the night so don't start blaming me for this."

"Fine, whateveh," he replied, shrugging it off uncharacteristically, "Let's get down to business. Are you in or are you going to be a dumb bitch?"

"First of all, don't call me a dumb bitch," she was trying not to lose her cool, but she was still tired and getting angry about the whole situation- he was invading her space and acting like she was the one putting *him* out and that just pissed her off.

"Secondly," she said, as he pushed down the window and rubbed his gloved hands together from the cold, "You're going to give me a couple of things before I'm going to agree to the terms of our agreement."

He was unzipping his jacket and stuffing his gloves in his pockets, "Oh really? And what do you propose?"

She went over to her bedside table and opened the drawer, pulling out her list.

"You might want to sit down. There are a good number of WELL WORDED points here- I don't want you taking them out of context," she looked pointedly at him.

"What, me? I'd *never* do that!" he said in a mock-sincere voice and then switched back to his normal tone as he flopped down on her bed making the mattress creak embarrassingly loud, "Let's just hear it, ok?"

"Well first, you will have to provide direct and clear documentation that you can hold up your end of the bargain. If you can't give me my end of the deal, the whole arrangement is off, regardless of whether or not you win."

"Kewl," he was looking around the room now as though he was soaking in all the girliness.

"Secondly, you will include room and board if I win. I want to focus on my studies, possibly do an unpaid internship and I can't do that if I'm slaving away at a pizza place."

"Hehehe, but you'd be hot if you were slaving away," he leered, and then changed to an apologetic tone when she stepped forward with her fists up, "Okay, okay, that can be arranged."

"Thirdly," she said with a somewhat quavering voice, "If I lose..."

"Yeah, if you LOSE...?" his smile was getting wide again.

"If I lose, you can't force me to do anything that will kill/maim me or someone else, and you can't force me to do something illegal."

"Well, duh," he scoffed, "It wouldn't be fun unless you WANTED to do those things."

Wendy found herself blushing a bit- she wasn't sure if it was ire, embarrassment or...well what else could it be? She tried to push on, without examining it too much.

"Finally, if I win, you have to leave me alone for the rest of my life and stop dragging me or my family into your stupid plans, your dangerous behaviors or anything else of the sort."

He shrugged, laying back so his head was touching her pillow and stretched out until his boots hung out over the end of the bed, "That sounds fair to me."

She was suspicious that he was taking this so well and the look on her face said as much.

"Don't worry, Wendy, you just have to seal our deal and I'll agree to everything you've said here. I'll even sign that stupid paper you're holding like a maxi pad. But that just leaves sealing the deal." He was purring, victoriously looking at her like a predator sizing up prey.

"What are you...?" she felt the butterflies again.

"Come over here," he said, his voice not wavering a bit.

"Wha-"

"Just fucking come here, okay?"

She cautiously walked towards him as though she were approaching a sleeping predator.

"You're not going to...?" the question was left unasked.

"Sit on the bed," he commanded, hissing it out in a whisper.

"You'd better not try anything funny or..." Or what, she thought to herself. He was bigger, stronger and had more leverage. Suddenly she felt very, very small, which for the first time wasn't actually a good thing.

She sat down on the edge of the bed finally and he sat up, swinging his legs so they came around on either side of her.

"You need to seal the deal...with a kiss," his eyes were mocking.

She felt the fire of anger growing in her stomach- KISS HIM? Who the hell did he think he was?

"No way!" she almost shouted, and then subdued her voice, fearing that she'd wake her parents and have to explain why a boy was sitting on her bed at 3:45 AM.

He grabbed her arms and she halfheartedly struggled, he pulled his face to hers and said in a deadly whisper, "Bitch, I'm not going to seal the deal until you consent to it. Otherwise, kiss your chance goodbye."

She bit her own lip a little, thinking about that prospect. This was her chance. And if she had to kiss him now, she'd just rub it in his face when she won- yes, just keep thinking about winning-WINNING- this twisted contest.

"Yes..." she finally replied.

"Yes, what?" there was the deadly whisper again, holding up a piece of paper that he'd pulled from his pocket and pointing at it for her to read.

"Yes, Eric Cartman, I Wendy Testeberger consent to this contract and all that entails," she said, her face blushing with embarrassment thinking of what it might actually entail.

Their lips met, her pushing angrily upon his- he was still cold from standing outside and the slight stubble on his face scratched her a little. One of his hands nestled around the back of her head, cradling it but not pushing her in. He opened his mouth a bit, licking her lips softly with his tongue. She couldn't help but notice he didn't taste bad- like he had actually brushed his teeth for once, and the scent of his body alone (it was obvious that he was freshly showered too, his hair was still icy and damp) was familiar and...comforting, actually. She couldn't place the scent, other than the fact that it basically made her body instantly relax.

Of course, her stupid brain had to ruin the moment by screaming at her OH MY GOD THIS IS CARTMAN AND YOU ARE KISSING HIM. She pulled back and his hand dropped from the back of her head. She looked him in the eyes the best she could in the darkened room.

"Ok, it's on," she said gasping a little.

"Yeah," he said softly, "It's definitely on."

He got up off the bed, put his jacket and gloves on and went out the window, down the tree and out into the early morning without a word. All the exhaustion that she'd pushed away with pure adrenaline flooded back into her body and she collapsed on her bed.

The pillow's scent reminded her of him, and confusingly, she felt her heart leap with something other than anger and disgust. She wasn't sure if she liked it or not, but she was so tired that she fell asleep breathing in that scent, relaxing into it like she was coming home for the first time.