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Kenny found himself, not for the first time that night, wondering why he’d even bothered coming to senior prom.
His suit, a hand me down from Kyle, was poor fitting, the food was subpar at best and served with way too many fancy forks, and the music was generic. There wasn’t even any booze to make things easier and he’d naively believed he wouldn’t need to pregame. Last time he’d make that mistake.
The worst part was, by far, the couples. Kenny had been single his whole life, unless Kelly and Tammy Warner from elementary school counted which he suspected they didn’t. He wasn’t all that torn up about it but sometimes he thought it might be nice to have someone to take to these kinds of things and slow dance in their high school gym with.
It had only gotten worse since Stan and Kyle had coupled up. They’d gotten together about three weeks after Stan and Wendy broke up in a rather explosive way, and had been even more attached at the hip than usual ever since. That just meant Kenny had become a permanent third wheel.
After getting together the two of them had sat him down like parents telling their child they were divorcing and explained it didn’t have to change their friendship at all. Kenny had doubted it then, and he certainly knew it was bullshit now they’d been making out all evening, leaving him to sit awkwardly beside him with a cup of virgin punch.
There was one other person, he realised, who didn’t look all too happy about the situation. Wendy Testaburger was stood in the corner, dressed in a shimmery purple dress, arms folded over her chest, and a scowl fixed on her face. She’d come in a group with some other girls but they all seemed to have ditched her to dance to a pop song that was, rather fittingly, about dancing.
Kenny felt for her. He loved Stan with all his heart and then some, but he’d been a real dick to her. He’d kind of assumed Wendy would’ve gotten a talk like he did, but quickly came to found out the poor girl had been completely blindsided when she’d very tearily confronted Stan in the cafeteria.
The worst part is, Stan and Kyle had kind of become the school’s it couple. Nobody seemed to care that Wendy had been totally fucked over, they were too busy swooning over the childhood friends to lovers romcom unfolding before them.
Kenny stood up, not bothering to let his friends know where he was going, and went up to the drinks table. Heidi was manning it, part of her student council duties. Come to think of it, Kenny was surprised Wendy wasn’t more busy since it seemed like she single-handedly planned the event, like she did most things at school. The place would probably fall apart without its president.
"Listen Heidi, we’re friends right," Kenny said with zero preamble.
"Not really."
"Semantics. I know you’ve got some booze stashed. It’s not for me." He placed a hand on his heart earnestly, then gestured across the room. "It’s for Wendy."
Heidi’s resolve lessened as she glanced over at Wendy, still pouting in the corner. She sighed heavily and glanced around for teachers before reaching under the table. "I’ve only got coconut rum. All I could sneak in."
She pulled out an unlabelled soda bottle and placed it on the table. Kenny grinned and filled a cup up with it, then added a little bit of lemonade when Heidi glared at him.
"Excellent. Thanks Heidi, my bestie."
"I’m really not your bestie. Just be nice to her, okay?"
Kenny was mildly offended by the suggestion he’d be anything but. He was a flirt, yes, but not exactly a player. He hadn’t made his way around the senior class like people seemed to think. Besides, Wendy, as gorgeous and fun to tease as she was, was probably very off limits as Stan’s ex. Not that he didn’t deserve it after the way he’d handled things, but Kenny wouldn’t indulge any ideas about that kind of revenge.
He approached Wendy with the spiked cup outstretched. "Liquor for the lady?"
She frowned and arched a perfect eyebrow, looking him up and down. "Huh?"
"You look like you’re about to gouge your eyes out with one of these fancy forks," Kenny said, in lieu of an explanation. "Heidi snuck some coconut rum in, figured you needed it."
Wendy looked hesitant. "Coconut rum?"
"I added some lemonade."
Wendy’s resolve seemed to melt and took the cup then practically inhaled the liquid. She didn’t even wince and wiped her mouth on the back of her hand when she was finished. She smudged some of her lipstick and barely frowned at the stain.
"Stan and Kyle," she sighed heavily through gritted teeth.
"Are the absolute worst," Kenny concluded with a nod. "Yeah."
Wendy looked surprised. "You think so? But those are like your blood brothers!"
Kenny glanced over at the table he’d left. "Considering what they’re doing right now those are some pretty fucked brothers."
He turned back to Wendy to find her looking mildly embarrassed. "Whatever. I just didn’t expect you to have beef with them."
"Well nobody likes being the third wheel."
Wendy hummed and leant against the wall. "I’d never thought about it like that."
Kenny stood at her side, staring bitterly at his friends. They weren’t making out anymore, so it wasn’t weird, they were just staring into each others eyes.
Maybe it was weird. Kenny decided to look anywhere but at them.
"I never asked how you were doing after the breakup," he said eventually, tilting his head to the side to get a better look at Wendy beside him. She did the same. "Judging by the sour mood you’re in… not so well?"
Wendy snorted. "You sound like Butters. I’m great. You know the volleyball team won the championship? And I’m going to Harvard in September. I’m doing great. Excellent, amazing, spectacular even."
Kenny smiled weakly. "One more adjective and I’ll believe you."
"Superb," she muttered bitterly. "I’m doing superb."
Kenny raised his eyebrows and sighed. "Just so you know, if you weren’t and you wanted to talk to someone equally jaded by Stan’s new relationship… I’m not going anywhere."
"No? Not got any plans for the summer or beyond?"
"Not really. I’m surprised I’m even graduating."
"You shouldn’t say that. You’re really smart when you apply yourself."
Kenny had heard that before, about a billion times from every possible angle under the sun. It’s just that with working and taking care of Karen and dying, applying himself had never been a top priority.
"It’s fine. I’m not that into school anyway. I might go to trade school or something if I can scrape the pennies together but Kevin got me a job lined up at the auto shop." Kenny shrugged. "I’ll make do."
Truthfully he was dreading it. The idea of all his friends leaving him behind was torturous. He’d see them at holidays, if he was lucky, where he’d be bombarded with how fun college was and reminded of how much he just doesn’t fit into their lives anymore. After that it would be limited to reunions, maybe the occasional wedding or funeral.
He’d considered joining the military, might as well since it’s not like he could die, but he honestly just didn’t agree with the ethics of it at all. He’d rather serve a prison sentence before the US government, and he was willing to go on record about that.
"Anyway I meant what I said. I’m here to talk," he deflected.
Wendy nodded and looked down at her cup. She took another long sip. "Can I ask you a question?"
"Shoot."
She looked at him quizzically. "Are you having fun?"
Kenny swallowed and bit his lip. Wendy had worked tirelessly to make this night great, and to her credit she’d done a good job. The gym had been transformed to the point of being almost unrecognisable and the invitations had even been classy. It was only shit because of reasons outside of her control.
"You did a good job," he placated because he wasn’t sure his face had been very convincing.
"It’s kinda lame," Wendy admitted. "I just wanted a nice last night for us all."
"Hey there’s graduation," Kenny reminded. "Tolkien’s after party will be a hit."
He wasn’t sure if that was the right thing to say or not. Wendy’s face gave nothing away. Eventually she looked up at him with an odd look in her eyes.
"Do you wanna get out of here?"
Kenny grinned despite himself. "Sure. I’ll drive."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. My truck’s the one that looks like it’s about to fall apart. I’ll meet you out there."
Wendy bounced on her heels and dashed out the door without a further word. Kenny took a moment to wonder what the fuck he was doing, before swiping the liquor from the table Heidi had briefly left unattended, and following her out.
Wendy looked weird standing by Kenny’s shitty truck whilst dressed to the nines. Even in her usual clothes she’d probably look wrong beside it. Wendy always looked very… clean. That was the only way he could think to describe it.
"I got some goods," he announced, holding the bottle over his head.
Wendy frowned slightly. "Did Heidi let you have that?"
"What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her. Come on."
He slid into the driver’s seat and passed the bottle to Wendy when she got in beside him. She looked around at the scratched leather with a mild expression, then unscrewed the bottle and took a swig. Kenny briefly thought maybe he was enabling a downward spiral, but then she smiled at him and his good judgement left the building, if it was ever there to begin with. She just looked so excited.
"Where to?" she asked brightly.
Kenny shrugged. "Where do you want to go?"
Wendy leant back in her seat. "Wherever you want to take me. Surprise me."
That was a lot of pressure. South Park wasn’t rife with nice private places. The only one was Stark’s Pond, which was absolutely out of the question. It was too romantic. Not because of the swampy environment or anything, just because it was the go to place for illicit make out sessions.
City Wok was an option, Wendy was well on her way to being drunk enough for greasy Chinese food, but it wasn’t very private and for some reason Kenny thought that was important. He also didn’t really feel like going to his place of work on a rare night off.
For some reason, mainly lack of better options, he drove Wendy to his house. He didn’t think about it much until the car lurched going over the tracks and the wreckage of Sodosopa and his decrepit hovel came into view. He parked outside and glanced over at Wendy who didn’t seem phased. The contents of the bottle had been further depleted, which probably had something to do with that.
Kenny got out the car and she followed, then sat on the hood. Kenny reached into the back of the car and pulled out his parka that he’d left there. He traded it for his suit jacket, already feeling much more comfortable.
"So this is Casa McCormick," Kenny said awkwardly, shoving his hands in his pockets.
"I’ve never been here before," Wendy said absently. "We’ve known each other so long but…"
"I don’t host a lot of guests," Kenny said off handedly. He sat beside her and pried the bottle out of her hands, taking a sip himself. It wasn’t his drink of choice, but it wasn’t bad. "I can go get you some water if you want."
Wendy shook her head and took the bottle back. "I’m good."
They sat in a weirdly comfortable silence, passing the bottle back and forth until it was almost all gone. Wendy’s cheeks had gone incredibly pink in a way that was stupidly endearing and Kenny’s own face felt hot.
It was nice to see Wendy so… loose. She was normally very poised and tightly wound about every little thing, but now she was humming the tune of a song Kenny thought he might recognised and resting her head on the knee she’d tucked to her chest.
"Can I tell you something?" Wendy asked suddenly, voice a dramatic stage whisper. Kenny nodded and huffed a laugh when she leant in and cupped a hand around his ear. "I’ve never been drunk before."
Kenny pulled back in horror at the fact he’d defiled valedictorian, senior class president, and all around golden girl Wendy Testaburger. "You’re kidding."
She shook her head and giggled. "You’re such a bad influence."
Kenny smiled weakly and looked down at the bottle. It struck a nerve. Wendy couldn’t have known, but he almost constantly worried about the kind of example he was setting for Karen. That combined with the guilt of getting Wendy drunk wasn’t a nice mix.
"Yep. I think you’re done for the night Wendy," he said gently.
He slid off the hood of the car and she looked at him with wide, concerned eyes. "I’m sorry. You’re not a bad influence. I’m just…" she heaved a sigh. "I’m not doing great."
Her voice came out uncharacteristically weak. Kenny set the empty bottle aside and, for reasons he wouldn’t even try to explain, grabbed her hands. "No no no, it’s okay. Please don’t cry."
He wasn’t sure what he’d do if she did. The only person whose tears he could deal with were Karen and even then he was getting worse at that as she got older. Back when she was younger there was nothing a visit from Mysterion couldn’t solve, but now Kenny’s success rate had plummeted and he was most likely to be met with a slammed door in his face when she was upset.
"I’m not gonna cry," Wendy sniffled. "I’m not that pathetic. Crying over a boy who doesn’t even think twice about me, God it’s so… so… un-feminist!"
"It’s not un-feminist," Kenny said weakly, acutely aware that he was nowhere near a leading authority. "And Stan was upset too."
He earned the skeptical scoff she let out but it was true. Although Stan was upset about something most days so maybe it didn’t mean too much.
"He got together with his best friend! After a month! We dated for years!" Slowly Wendy was starting to sound more angry than upset, which was much more in Kenny’s wheelhouse. "How fucked up is that?!"
"Yeah? How does it make you feel?" Kenny coaxed.
Wendy’s lip wavered and she gestured about wildly. "Just… fucking… Ugh! Angry! I’m angry with him!"
"Yes! Yes you are!"
"And I kind of want to break his teeth!"
"I wouldn’t encourage it but yeah!" Kenny suddenly had an idea. "You really wanna break something?"
Wendy hopped off the car. "More than anything."
Kenny grinned and went to the back of his car and pulled out a baseball bat he kept for emergencies. He brandished it to Wendy. "I have so much junk around my house. Smash any of it. To bits."
Wendy reached for the bat but faltered. "But what if—"
"No no no," Kenny shook his head, "don’t think, just do."
Wendy bit her lip and grabbed the bat. Kenny nodded encouragingly and she stormed over to an old washing machine. The thing was ancient and probably 90% rust; in fact, it might’ve been the same one he used as a secret tunnel in his Mysterion days. They’d moved it out front since then, but he was almost certain of it.
He watched with his arms folded over his chest as Wendy lifted the bat. She hesitated, toned arms stiff over her head, and Kenny thought she was going to chicken out. But then she screamed at the top of her lungs and brought the bat down with a crash. The machine, as ancient as it was, practically shattered on impact.
Kenny cheered in surprise and she looked at him, chest heaving and a smile spreading across her face. "I get why people fight now," she announced.
Kenny laughed and gestured wildly. "Keep going, keep going!"
Wendy nodded and moved onto the next piece of junk while Kenny settled on the hood of the car with his legs crossed under him and watched. It was a weird sight; Wendy in her pretty prom dress, her hair coming undone and falling around her shoulders, breaking the ancient shit in front of his house. It was like one of those surrealist paintings.
A few minutes later, Wendy’s banging around scared Mr Possy, who’d been sleeping in a trash can, and she yelped in surprise when he darted out. "What is that?!"
Kenny leant down and gestured for the possum like one would a cat. Mr Possy sniffed his fingers and Kenny grinned. "It’s my possum."
"Your—" Wendy blinked in surprise. "Your possum?"
Kenny lifted Mr Possy up and set him in his lap. "Well not my possum. His name’s Mr Possy."
He wasn’t the first Mr Possy, of course. Probably the sixth. Kenny was never good with names and just decided to take a leaf out of Craig’s book. At least he hadn’t gone through as many possums as Craig had guinea pigs (the count was 42, last Kenny heard).
"You know those things have like… rabies right?" Wendy asked.
Kenny hummed as Mr Possy nibbled on his middle finger. "I’ve had rabies so many times it should be scared of me."
Wendy rubbed a fist against her forehead. "I know you’re joking cause that’s not possible but it would be in character for you."
Kenny nodded in agreement and looked around. "You done? I’ve got more trash in the back if you’re not."
Wendy shook her head and dragged the bat over to the car. She leant against the hood, with a safe distance between herself and the possum. "I’m okay now. Just… I’m still upset. And frustrated."
"But do you still want to break Stan’s face?"
"No," she admitted. Then she smiled at him. "You’re a decent therapist, McCormick."
Kenny grinned. "Mackey told me I’d be a good counsellor."
Wendy barked a laugh. It was harsher than her usual delicate one, and Kenny thought he might prefer it. "God I haven’t thought about that guy in years. Drugs are bad m’kay."
Kenny gawked then burst out laughing. "Was that meant to be an impression?"
Her cheeks turned pink and she smiled. "Yeah…"
"That was awful."
"Shut up!"
"I think we finally found something Wendy Testaburger is bad at!"
His laughter disturbed Mr Possy who scurried off somewhere, at which point Wendy shifted a little closer. She reached out and punched him in the shoulder, surprisingly hard.
"Stop, I’m bad at lots of things."
"Oh yeah? Like what?" Kenny asked, thoroughly unconvinced.
Wendy raked a hand through her hair. It had completely fallen out of the elegant updo it was in earlier. "Like… Okay. I’m terrible at drawing."
Kenny grinned. "Seriously?"
"I can barely do a stick figure," she said solemnly. "I only passed art because I made up some really fake deep meaning behind my piece and the teacher ate it up."
"Same."
"No, you’re good at art. I see you drawing all the time in class. You could, like, illustrate comic books or something."
Kenny snorted. "What do you know about comic books?"
"I know you like Batman," Wendy replied. "And Wonder Woman is a feminist icon. I have a lot of the older trades at home."
Kenny blinked. That… was honestly surprising. And weirdly kind of—
He stopped that train of thought right in his tracks, quickly and effectively. He couldn’t be letting it get to whatever destination it was heading to, especially because Stan’s ex-girlfriend was a passenger.
"So you can’t draw," Kenny said eventually. "Big deal. I think you’ve just gotta face it. You’re pretty great at everything you do."
Wendy sighed. "I don’t think so. But thank you for the vote of confidence. It’s… nice having someone in my corner."
Kenny smiled slightly. "I’ll always be in your corner. You are the one person I was certain would make it out of this town."
Wendy looked surprised. "Not even Kyle?"
"Not even Kyle. I always figured he’d stay for…" He trailed off, a little too late.
Wendy’s face fell and she held onto her arms self consciously. "He’d stay for Stan."
Kenny winced. "Yeah. But that’s not good. I always knew you’d leave Stan, you know why? Cause you’re Wendy Testaburger, and nobody stops you from doing anything, especially not a whiny loser crybaby like Stan Marsh."
"Sometimes I wonder if that’s a good thing. If being so independent just means I’m… unloveable." She whispered the last word like it was dirty.
Kenny placed a hand on her shoulder. "You are not unloveable."
The fact she even thought it shocked him. She was like a light in the darkness that was South Park, so bright and intelligent and overwhelmingly kind. She wasn’t always the most liked by their peers, but that was only because they were jealous. Kenny had assumed that much was obvious.
"I’m not even just saying that to be nice," he continued. "I really think you’re the best of us, in every single way. You don’t need South Park, South Park needs you. And if you go to Harvard and nobody in New York likes you, then just call me."
"Harvard’s in Massachusetts," Wendy said wetly, wiping her eyes with the heel of her hand and smiling softly.
Kenny stared at her incredulously then, without thinking, he drew her in by the shoulders and kissed her. Just to shut her up, maybe, though the way she could be so pedantic was honestly endearing, or because he was still a little drunk, or because she looked so pretty when she was crying and still smiling at him that it was straight up criminal.
The biggest surprise was that she kissed him back. She was stiff for a second before placing a hand on his jaw and pulling him in further. Her lipgloss tasted tropical, like mangoes and pineapple and it complimented the coconut rum they’d been drinking.
Wendy planted a hand on his chest and pushed away, ending a nice moment all too soon. "Kenny—"
"I know I’m sorry," he whispered.
"It’s not that. I liked it. A lot. I just… I don’t want a relationship right now." She said it so sincerely and without a hint of sarcasm that Kenny had to laugh. She stared at him, affronted. "Excuse me?"
"Sorry! I just wanna know what makes you think I want a relationship," Kenny asked wheezily. "I’ve never dated anyone seriously before."
"Well I just… God." She groaned and smiled sheepishly. "All I’m saying is I don’t wanna rush into anything but maybe I… I would like to see where things go. Over coffee."
Kenny grinned. "Are you asking me on a date?"
Wendy sighed but she was still smiling, more confidently now. "Maybe we can start with getting to know each other better."
Kenny hummed. "Sounds like a date."
"Okay fine, maybe it is a date. But you’ll be gentlemanly and we’re keeping it on the DL until we find a way to tell Stan."
"Deal."
Wendy beamed and her cheeks flushed pink. She hesitated slightly before nodding and patting his shoulder. "I should go."
"Want me to walk you?"
"No, it’s okay. But thanks for the offer. I’ll text you about coffee."
Kenny smiled softly. "Can’t wait." He really couldn’t.
He watched Wendy walk down the street until she was long past just a blur in his field of vision, before stowing his bat inside the trunk again and heading inside.
Like usual, he couldn’t sleep, but this time due to a feeling of giddiness rather than the overall feeling of dread he was used to.
Wendy Testaburger really was a weird and wonderful force.