Prom Dress - mxmtoon
Well, shit.
Don’t get her wrong- it's not like she expected tonight to be the best night of her life. She didn’t even expect it to be good. So why, at 11:45pm (probably 11:46, her watch was a little slow), was Wendy Testaburger sitting, alone, at a small round table in the center of the gymnasium?
Well, here’s why: Stanley Marsh is a little bitch. Ever since elementary school he’d been a little coward.
She could still hear his whining voice:
“No Wendy, I can’t go to the mall with you. People will think we’re a thing!”
“No Wendy I’m not taking you to prom, that would be so awkward.”
“I love you, Wendy.”
She chuckled. Yeah, right.
Stan would say that to anyone with the patience to listen to him for more than 30 seconds.
Wendy sighed. Like Kyle. She glanced over at where she guessed Stan would be jumping around, on the dance floor. Her eyes swept over the students and over a clearly rented, very tattered suit, a freshly bought suit that was just a little too small for the wearer, until she finally she saw the distinct hand-me-down navy suit. Stan. He nodded his head to the rhythm of the generic pop remix the DJ had thrown on. She had once imagined herself being led through the dance floor, her beautiful flowing dress matching that navy blue suit.
She laughed again, cold and bitter. She scanned, looking for the fourth member of Stan’s tight-knit posse. As her eyes moved over the faces of the people she’d known since kindergarten, no dark green velvety suit was to be found.
Where is he? Why isn’t he with them? He should be with them.With Stan.
She figured that since the four had been planning to go to Prom together anyways, Kyle would seize the opportunity to dance with Stan.
Kyle’s crush on his best friend had been very apparent to Wendy for years, being that they were in the same boat. Weak recognizes weak, and all that.
So why wasn’t he there?
She shook her head. It’s not like it mattered, why was she so invested anyways? He was nothing more than basic competition. And Wendy was known for being very, very competitive.
Still, though, her chest panged with curiosity. She sat forward in her seat, turning her head to check the rest of the dimly blue-lit room. She made a mental note to complain about the traditional South Park school dance theme, Under the Stars, to the student council. So overdone.
As she glanced around, her eyes finally landed on her target.
Kyle Broflovski, Valedictorian, student council secretary, and Stan’s best friend, was also sitting alone. Head in his hands, his curls contrasting with the deep blues and purples of the decorations. There was no way.
Wendy rubbed her eyes, and looked again.
There he was, this time lifting his head to gaze sadly at the other three members of his friend group. His head turned until it was facing her.
Their eyes locked. Kyle smiled sweetly and waved, glancing away quickly.
Wow. She knew Stan was lame, but she never expected him to stoop this low. Wendy was so sure that if he didn’t ask her, he’d definitely ask Kyle.
She turned back around in her seat, nauseous and no longer curious about the other victim of Stan’s cowardice.
As she laid back in her seat, she kicked her uncomfortable heels off. She looked at the floor, illuminated by miniature glow-in-the-dark stars, and felt a swell of emotion reach her.
She turned her head up to catch the tears quickly flooding her vision, but it was too late. Hot, angry tears wet her face as they rolled down her blushed cheeks.
How was this fair? Why were two of the smartest, most successful, and most genuine people at the school the ones who were alone? Why was Stan Marsh, straight B student with no record of extracurriculars or AP credits or volunteer work having the time of his life while his two ‘best friends’ sat alone?
It wasn’t fair. It was super-duper-mega Unfair with a capital U. She sighed and sniffed, tears slowing. She rubbed her eyes, disregarding the mascara slowly staining her face. She’d spent so much time making her makeup perfect for him. Lame.
Her raw skin burned beneath her hands, and her smudged blush was replaced with a real one. She was so embarrassed. It really wasn’t fair. She shouldn’t be so upset over him. But there she was, sitting alone, crying.
The stage lights that spun around the gym, illuminating the walls and floor, created a dizzying environment. The droplets of light were blurred through Wendy’s tears, and the nausea overwhelmed her.
Closing her eyes again, Wendy inhaled deeply. Relax… relax… it’s alright… it’s okay… she practiced the mantras she learned in health class. Exhaling through her nose, she opened them again.
Wendy took a deep breath. She had to pull herself together. Tonight was about having fun, not lamenting over some stupid boy she’d broken up with a million times.
She resigned to skip out on prom, and maybe go to a friend's house. Wait, that’s like, perfect. I’ll just go to Bebe’s house!
Bebe Stevens, Wendy’s best friend and biggest support throughout her lovesickness, wasn’t at prom. She’d decided it was totally embarrassing to be seen hanging around a bunch of “sweaty losers” so she had stayed home.
Wendy let out a sigh of relief. Once again, Bebe had pulled through and saved Wendy from a night of embarrassment. She put a couple of soda cans in her purse from the table, and grabbed her shoes from the floor.
When she glanced back up, though, a familiar figure was approaching her. Shyly, Kyle meandered forward and reached his hand out to her.
Their eyes locked, and Kyle spoke.
“Uh. Um. You look-nice… I guess. I- I mean I think? Yikes. I saw you were gonna, like, leave, but then I was like, prom is like important to girls, right? So. Yeah. Um-“
Wendy quickly grabbed his hand, cutting off whatever meaningless chatter that was most certainly going to come from the boy in front of her.
“He sucks. Let’s dance.”
“Yes. Uh- yeah, I guess. Sure. Good idea.” He cleared his throat uncomfortably.
Wendy laughed at the awkwardness with which he held himself, and began pulling him through the deserted tables and onto the dance floor.
They reached a place in the center, well in view of the three boys crowding a space near them.
As they stopped, and Wendy turned to face Kyle squarely, one of her favorite songs began to play.
She squealed momentarily and hopped up and down, quickly telling Kyle about how much she loved the song. She grabbed his hands and jumped to the poppy tune, singing off-key and throwing her head up to fully enjoy the melody.
Kyle laughed and started to sing along as well, (admittedly much better than Wendy), and they both moved happily to the beat. As they acted out the lyrics, laughed, and danced, Wendy could feel a pair of piercing eyes on her.
She shivered and paused subtly, leaning forward to whisper into Kyle’s ear over the loud music.
“He’s staring, right?”
“Of course he is. He can’t stand seeing someone else within three feet of ‘his Wendy’.”
“Please. You haven’t seen the way he sulks when you hang out with Tolkien. He’s probably thinking about shoving me aside and serenading you with his horrible guitar skills.”
“You think he’s jealous of you? Wasn’t it him who threw a tantrum that one time in 4th grade about us taking care of an egg together?”
“Yeah! In fourth grade! I’m sure he’s made lots of” she paused, “realizations about himself since then.”
They both laughed and Kyle shook his head.
“Sure- Whatever man. It doesn’t matter. Let's just enjoy this song. Who cares about him, right?”
“Very funny, Kyle. But you’re right. We can’t waste a good bonding moment!” She chuckled again, and resumed her position with his hands in hers.
The strange continued to dance the night away as the clearly cheap DJ played more popular music.
Stan’s watching eyes now burned holes into the back of her head, and Wendy felt a small pang of annoyance. If he’s so angry, why doesn’t he just come over here and say something? As she stewed, Kyle furrowed his brow worriedly and gestured towards the two doors to the gym, wanna get out of here?
Wendy sighed again, relaxing her grimace. “You stay here and dance. I’m gonna head out. Got places to be and stuff.”
Technically it wasn’t a lie, she did have places to be. Place would be more accurate, though. One place. Bebe’s house.
She smiled as she thought of the blonde, probably in her king bed binging her favorite shows while munching on some random snacks her mom bought for her. Prom was never really Bebe’s place anyways. She had better things to do.
Glancing back up at Kyle one more time, she nudged him and gestured at the very noticeably angry brunet stewing behind them. He looked back, a slightly worried expression painting his face and telling Wendy all she needed to know.
“Look, I know he sucks but this is like, the chance. Don’t waste it because he’s the biggest pussy in school. Just go up to him and like, I don’t know, grab him and start making out or something. He’s all yours.”
“But you-”
“Trust me. I’m over him. Like, totally never ever coming back over him. Go get him, tiger.” They both cringed at that, giggling. Wendy stepped back, pumping her first in one last display of support.
And there Wendy left him, all alone on the dance floor, with nothing standing between him and his super lifelong ultra-crush. Stan Marsh.