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That bastard.
Kyle had left Stan alone for five minutes. Probably not even that long, just long enough to make his way through the crowd to get them both some watered-down punch and back. But by the time he returned, Stan had wandered off, a moth drawn to the flame. A flame dressed in a lilac satin gown. He didn’t even look back, too engrossed in talking to his ex. If he had, he would’ve seen Kyle standing there, a cup in either hand. Maybe Stan would’ve noticed the disappointment in his best friend’s eyes. There’s no way he would’ve picked up on the heartbreak.
Kyle turned on his heels, marching away in a random direction. Prom was a stupid fucking idea anyway. They could’ve stayed home, worn normal clothes, maybe gotten high while playing video games in Cartman’s basement. But no! They just had to take up this opportunity and attend a dance together! Kyle found an empty table against one of the walls and plopped himself down in a chair. With an elbow propped on the polyester tablecloth, he leaned his head against his hand and gazed out into the crowd of dancing teenagers. Focused on two in particular, obviously. The ginger watched as Wendy casually flipped her long hair over her shoulder, smiling playfully at whatever Stan had just said to her. She looked beautiful, which made him only feel shittier.
It had actually been Stan’s idea for them to go. As friends, of course. Just an excuse for a couple of bachelors to go out on the town, dressed to the nines. Kyle had been hesitant. As class president, there was no way Wendy was going to miss prom, and, with it only being a few weeks since she dumped him, Stan’s heart was definitely still feeling raw. But he promised. Up and down, cross my heart, Wendy’s name will not be mentioned, Stan said. Kyle knew that didn’t hold much weight, but he believed him anyway. Now look who’s the fool. Surrounded by people he’s known his whole life, wearing his best forest green button-down and freshly ironed pants, yet he felt lonelier than he ever has before.
Interrupting his train of thought, Bebe Stevens suddenly sat down beside him at the table. Kyle jumped slightly. He didn’t even hear her approach, and she didn’t seem to care that he was there. With a huff, she brushed one of the face-framing curls hanging down from her updo out of her face, since it had been pushed in the way by the flimsy, yet sparkly, plastic tiara bestowed upon her. Prom Queen, of fucking course. Kyle rolled his eyes before looking back at his best friend across the room. They were still chatting, looking at each other with this obnoxious fondness, their eyes filled with longing. Her hand was on his arm now, playfully toying with the sleeve of his suit jacket. Stan was laughing – why was he laughing? Kyle’s heart ached.
“Ugh, my feet are KILLING me!” Bebe whined loudly, pushing aside the layers of red tulle that made up her skirt to begin taking off her shoes. “These heels are absolutely to die for, but I didn’t expect to be literally dying out there on the dance floor!” She received no response from her table companion, which she didn’t mind. Though she did notice the two cups of punch sitting beside him, completely untouched. Bebe raised an eyebrow. She hadn’t heard of Kyle asking anyone to prom – the other girls would have definitely informed her if they had been asked out – and he wasn’t sitting with anyone now. More importantly, she was thirsty. “Hey, mind if I take one?”
Kyle shot her a glare. It was difficult to fully mope with her there. “Yeah, whatever,” he said with a scowl, waving at her with his free hand slightly. Bebe scrunched up her nose as she took one of the cups.
“Who spat on your sweater?” She asked with a scoff. Kyle tried to ignore her. Everything about the popular girl was getting on his last nerve. Her perfect makeup, her dramatic dress, the way she had clearly straightened her natural curls just to curl them again for her updo – all of it was just another reminder about how pointless all of this had been. How he could never compete. “Did your date ditch or something?”
“Leave me alone.” Bebe’s eyes lit up with mischief as she swallowed the sip she had been taking. Goddamnit, now there’s no way she’d stop. He should have stayed silent, but Kyle had always shit at ignoring people who annoyed him.
“Oh my god, you WERE ditched! Who was it?? You gotta tell me!” Before Kyle could respond, she followed his gaze across the room, only to land on Wendy. Any line of questioning immediately evaporated from Bebe’s mind, replaced with frustration almost equal to that of the ginger beside her. “Are you fucking kidding me?? That bitch is flirting!”
This caught Kyle off guard. “Who?”
“Wendy!”
That did nothing to help clear up the confusion. “And this upsets you, why…?” Kyle asked slowly, turning slightly to face her as he lifted his head off his hand. It was Bebe’s turn to be annoyed. Of course she had to walk him through it, typical.
“Because that’s not what she’s supposed to be doing, DUH,” she said as she gestured with her free hand, rolling her eyes. “We went over this at my place as we were getting ready! Under no circumstances was she supposed to interact with Stan Marsh; SHE broke up with HIM! Ugh!” She slammed the cup back down on the table, splashing a bit of the pink liquid onto the table cloth as she dramatically folded her arms across her chest. “Honestly, you’d think a girl as smart as her would have more sense!”
Kyle stared at the popular girl, momentarily lost for words. This was certainly not the turn he expected this conversation to take. Nor could he have predicted Bebe to seem just as frustrated as he was. It was sort of nice to feel validated. He wasn’t the only one at this school being driven crazy by the ‘will-they, won’t-they’ of it all. Yet, something was holding him back from completely agreeing with Bebe. No matter how pissed off he was, he understood why Wendy kept going back.
With a sigh, Kyle said, “It doesn’t matter how smart she is. It’s Stan. Something about him…” He paused, choosing his next words very carefully. “...He’s difficult to get out of your heart, I guess…” Bebe’s glower softened. Her eyes flicked back to the two cups, one now half empty, before focusing back on Kyle.
“...That other cup was for him, wasn’t it?” She asked, her voice surprisingly quiet. The only one who could hear her over the music was Kyle. “He was the date that ditched?” She seemed very open all of a sudden, even unfolding her arms. He felt his face heat up and nodded. Bebe returned the nod. “I didn’t know you swung that way…”
“Not exclusively!” Kyle clarified quickly, before waving a hand. “Besides, it wasn’t even like that. We came as friends.”
“...Did you?”
Fuck.
Bebe had figured it out, and he couldn’t bring himself to deny it. Yes, they had come as friends. That’s what Stan suggested, what Kyle agreed to. But really…he was hoping that the night would turn out differently. The ginger had tried to confess to his best friend in the past, of course he had. But his nerves would get twisted in his stomach. His hands would turn all sweaty and trembly. The words always got lost on the way to his lips. Stan was the only one who could make Kyle feel like that. Prom had the perfect conditions. Maybe if they were surrounded by couples, if the lights were dimmed and the music was sweet, maybe if they were laughing together…then Kyle would’ve been able to finally pluck up the courage to tell Stan how he felt. But things didn’t go that way. Kyle fell silent, his shoulders slumped as he bit the inside of his cheek. He felt a hard lump form painfully in his throat. His eyes threatened to grow tearful. But he blinked a few times and set his jaw, sitting up straighter. He would NOT be the jackass who cried at prom.
Bebe watched the ginger beside her for a few long moments, giving him the opportunity to respond. He stayed silent, which gave her all the confirmation she needed. She shifted uncomfortably for a moment, balling up some of her skirt in her hands. She and Kyle had never been close, despite Wendy and Stan’s relationship. It had never seemed worth the effort to Bebe; she assumed they had nothing in common. At least, until now.
“You know…I get it,” She started slowly, giving him a bashful smile. “You may not exclusively bat for the other team…but I do.” Kyle met her gaze, raising an eyebrow. Bebe, the most boy crazy girl in South Park, a lesbian?
“I–I thought you came here with Clyde?”
“Only so I could win prom queen, DUH!” She posed to show off her crown, beaming.
“Isn’t that a little manipulative?” He questioned, eyeing her coldly.
“Not when I LITERALLY told him multiple times that I only like women!” She scoffed. “I think he thought I said it to ‘sound sexy’ or whatever the fuck that means.” She shivered.
“Gross,” Kyle cringed, knowing enough about the jock to know that was probably true. “He’s a fucking moron.”
“Right?? Tell me about it!” Bebe said. She folded her arms on the table, laying her head down gently on them, before adding. “Honestly…I kinda wish I gave up the crown and just asked Wendy to be my date instead. I really wanted to…I’ve had a crush on her since grade eight. And if I had, we’d both be having a better time.” Kyle gave a small, defeated shrug. She was probably right about that. They were both sitting at a table, watching the best friends they were in love with inch closer and closer to each other, instead of hanging out with either of them. He supposed neither of them were as bold as they wanted to be. But maybe that could change.
Turning to look at the prom queen, Kyle said, “Bebe, would you like to dance with me?” Her blue eyes widened and she shot up in her chair.
“What??”
“You heard me,” he gave her a smile. “Would you like to dance?” Bebe shook her head slowly, incredulous.
“Kyle, I just told you I’m a lesbian–”
“And I’m not into you! There’s nothing romantic about this. I just think it would beat us sitting on our asses feeling sorry for ourselves,” he said. “Cmon, we attended this stupid dance. Might as well actually, you know… dance.”
Bebe eyed him for a few moments, contemplating the proposal, a grin slowly spreading across her face. “Well…I suppose it WOULD stir the pot quite a bit. The prom queen dancing with someone other than her king…” she hummed.
“They will never see it coming,” Kyle added, grinning. “Imagine the gossip in the hallways on Monday...”
“Not to mention that this might ACTUALLY tear Wendy and Stan away from making goo-goo eyes at each other all night!” Bebe nearly clapped; she was so filled with mischievous glee. “Oh, what the hell, let’s do it! Just let me put my shoes back on.”
As Bebe bent over to slip on her heels once more, Kyle got up from his seat. Standing up, he offered a hand in order to escort her to the dance floor. “Are you sure you want to dance in those heels? Didn’t you start our conversation bitching about how much they hurt?”
“Beauty is pain, Broflovski!” Bebe exclaimed as she took his hand, giving him a knowing smile. “And, as we both know, so is being ‘the best friend’. Sometimes, we gotta stick together.”
“Yeah…I guess we do,” Kyle chuckled as the two moved hand-in-hand to the dance floor, fully intending to make this prom something no one could have planned for.