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For as long as Kylie could remember, Steph had bleached her hair. If she really strained, she thought it might’ve started in the fifth grade. Steph’s mother had, as her daughter got older, gotten very demanding about how Steph should conduct herself. They’d had a particularly bad fight about Steph’s appearance one night, and the next day, she’d come to school with yellowy blonde hair. Kylie’d never seen it black again until junior year.
The morning things went wrong, they’d woken up together in Kylie’s bed. It had gotten stuffy and warm in the room during the night, and Steph had thrown off her beanie before they went to sleep. In the darkness, Kylie hadn’t been able to tell anything about her hair, but in the light of the morning, it was pretty easy to see.
“Jesus fuck,” Kylie said groggily. “Your roots look like shit.”
Steph lifted her head from where it was buried in her pillow. Her eyes were half shut against the light, and her hair hung in tufts around her face, black roots coming down a good few inches from her scalp and clashing wildly with the bleached tone of the rest of it. Sluggishly, Steph raised her middle finger up and then flopped back down onto the pillow.
“No, dude, I’m serious,” Kylie insisted, reaching a hand over to lift some of Steph’s hair. The texture was horrible, fried to death, but Kylie thought it was nice to touch, anyway. “Like, dye this shit.”
“Will soon,” Steph muttered into the pillow.
“Okay,” Kylie said. “Can we go eat?”
Slowly, Steph nodded.
They sat on the curb in front of Kylie’s house eating cereal. Kylie’s mother was loud, and her brother was annoying, so she’d developed a new affinity for eating outside. Steph complained about it but came with her anyway.
It wasn’t completely freezing outside yet, but it was chilly enough to warrant Steph putting her hat back on. Kylie was a little glad. Her roots were atrocious.
Steph tapped her foot against the pavement. “You’re so twitchy lately,” Kylie observed.
Stan glanced over at her, head ducked. Her eyes were disgustingly earnest and very brown. Kylie swallowed.
“Sorry, dude. Just feeling weird, lately,” Steph said.
“Weird how? Period weird?”
“No. Just, like, weird weird.”
“Oh.” Kylie wasn’t very good at weird weird. She knocked the side of her shoe as gently as she could into Steph’s. “I’m sorry.”
Steph smiled weakly. “It’s alright.”
They stared down at the pavement for a few more minutes.
“Do you think Cartman’s gotten fatter lately?” Kylie was trying to end the silence, but the question had also really been bothering her for a while, and she needed to hear Steph’s thoughts.
Steph let out a startled laugh. “Dude, yeah, actually.”
“Oh, thank fuck. I thought no one else was noticing. God, what a deranged bitch-” and then she stopped because Steph was kissing her.
It was brief, and small, and chaste. Kylie didn’t even have time to close her eyes.
Steph pulled back, cheeks bright red. “I’m sorry,” she said miserably. “I don’t know why I did that.”
Kylie blinked at her for a couple seconds, slow and stupid and shocked. She had feared this might be coming. She was going to have to be gentle. Kylie wasn’t very good at being gentle.
“Steph,” she said quietly. “I don’t think that’s a very good idea. At all.”
Steph wasn’t looking at her. She was staring down at her feet. After a few seconds, she nodded slowly, set down her cereal bowl, and stood up. She didn’t say a word. Kylie wasn’t sure if it was to stop herself from crying, or from puking, or if it was just because she had nothing to say. She walked away.
Kylie’s parents had gotten her a car when she turned sixteen. Steph’s had not. As a result, Kylie drove Steph to and from school pretty much everyday.
The day after the kissing incident was a Monday. Kylie had texted Steph a couple of times throughout the day before. Nothing related to what had happened, obviously, but it didn’t really matter because Steph had responded to none of them. The first Kylie heard from her was Monday morning, when she sent “ riding w will today ” and nothing else. Kylie didn’t respond.
Riding with Will ? Riding with Willy fucking Testaburger? It was a fucking joke. She was going to kiss Kylie and then blow her off for Willy fucking Testaburger?
She furiously sent a message to Kenny which said “ coming to pick u up.”
Kylie had said nothing to Kenny in the car that morning about the Steph situation. Advice was pointless, considering she knew how it would play out. Steph would sulk and pout and avoid her for a couple of days and then come crawling back like nothing had happened.
The first part of Kylie’s prediction was entirely accurate that morning at school. Steph managed to evade her for all four of their first class periods. Unfortunately, Cartman did not.
“ Kylie, ” her nasally voice sounded. “Kylie. Why the hell does Steph look like that?”
“Why the hell should I know why Steph looks the way she does, fatass,” Kylie snapped.
“Well, I just figured, since she can’t even take a shit without asking you for permission.”
“Fuck off, Cartman!” What business of Cartman’s was it if Steph looked sad? Why would Cartman give a fuck?
Kylie’s mood soured further when she sat down at a distinctly Steph-less lunch table. At the look on her face, Kenny pointed silently over Kylie’s shoulder. She turned around to see a gaggle of their classmates surrounding Willy fucking Testaburger’s usual lunch table. The crowd was concealing whoever was sitting there, but under the table, Kylie could see Steph’s ratty fucking shoes.
She turned back to Kenny, who seemed to pale a little at whatever look was on her face. As she did, two boys walked behind her, talking under their breaths.
“Marsh isn’t actually as fugly as I thought,” one of them whispered. Kylie froze.
“No, yeah,” the other one agreed. “The hair is really doing it for me.”
Her hair ? Had she done her roots, like Kylie said to? That would’ve been nice, actually, considering Kylie really liked when Steph did what she told her to, but surely her roots wouldn’t have caused such a fuss. No one would have even known they were grown out, on account of the hat.
Kylie was interrupted from her brooding by the table shaking. She steadied her drink with one hand and looked up to see Cartman had sat down.
“Hey, fatass,” she said. “What the hell did Steph do to her hair?”
Cartman raised an eyebrow, which made Kylie want to kill her. “Oh-ho. You mean you don’t know what your bitch is doing to her body?”
“Cartman. I am going to hurt you.”
“Damn, fine. She dyed it.”
“Oh,” Kylie said. “Like, she bleached it?”
“No, you ginger-fuck. She dyed it. It’s black.”
Kylie didn’t manage to see it until after school. She was hunting for Steph, and she traced her down to the brick wall behind the cafeteria, where she was sharing a smoke with Carry Tucker.
Kylie hated the fact that Steph smoked. She got sick at the idea of Steph’s lungs, withered and black, Steph dying from cancer, Steph coughing, Steph ruining herself for no reason. She didn’t let Steph keep cigarettes. She threw away any packs she saw. That didn’t stop Steph from bumming smokes off of other kids at school. And it certainly didn’t stop Kylie from feeling inordinately turned on from the sight of Steph puffing on a cigarette.
When Steph spotted Kylie walking determinedly toward her, her eyes widened, and she froze like a prey animal. Whether it was because of the kiss or the cigarette or the hair, Kylie wasn’t sure. What she was sure of was the fact that she hated the hair.
It was just. Black. It was just black. It was black, and it had been trimmed a little bit, and Steph wasn’t even wearing her hat. She didn’t even look like Steph. She looked like some nice, polished, mature woman who sat out back and smoked with Carry fucking Tucker.
Kylie stopped walking when she reached the end of Steph’s extended legs. She looked down her nose at Steph sternly.
“Stephanie.”
Steph swallowed uncomfortably. Carry smiled in that mean way of hers, took the cigarette from Steph, and rose languidly. She was taller than Kylie. Kylie hated her more than she’d ever hated anyone.
“Bye, Steph,” was all Carry said as she walked away.
Steph remained silent. She just stared up at Kylie. Her hair hung nicely in her face. The black made her skin look bright, and it fit well with her brown eyes. Kylie hated it and hated it and hated it.
“Don’t ignore me,” Kylie said after a long minute. “Don’t kiss me and then ignore me when I tell you no. Who the fuck does that?”
“I didn’t know if you’d want to talk to me,” Steph said. Even from where she was sitting, Kylie could smell the cigarette she’d been smoking. She wanted to grab her by the hair and bash her into the brick and throw her onto the concrete and kiss her for real and kill her and fight her and fuck her. She did nothing but look at her.
“I didn’t want to kiss you. That doesn’t mean I don’t want to talk to you. You’re my best friend,” Kylie told her. That first thing wasn’t true. The other two were, and they were the reason she had to say the first.
“Okay,” Steph said quietly. “I’m sorry.”
For an instant, Kylie hated her, too.
In some ways, things went back to normal. Kylie picked Steph up for school on Tuesday. They talked about school and Cartman and TV.
In others, things were changed. Steph had started eating lunch with Willy fucking Testaburger. Kylie made no move to ask if Steph would come over that weekend. Steph’s hair was black. She looked different. More people were talking to her.
That last one was probably the worst part. People only wanted to talk to Steph now that they thought she looked good. Kylie had always wanted to talk to Steph. Kylie had always thought Steph looked good. Even though her hair was shittily bleached and washed her out and looked sort of like straw. Even when she was having a really bad breakout and her face was more pimple than skin. Even when she woke up on weekends with crusty, puffy eyes and a runny nose and a stained My Chemical Romance t-shirt.
None of these other people really understood Steph or how beautiful she was. None of them ever would. Not even Willy fucking Testaburger. But Steph, black hair Steph, mature, pretty, agreeable Steph, was going to fall for the praise anyway, and probably get regular fucking blow-outs at the salon, and cake on makeup, and wear flattering clothes, and become Stephanie goddamn Testaburger. Kylie couldn’t stand it.
She wasn’t sure when she fell in love with Steph. They’d known each other forever. No memory in Kylie’s life was separate from Steph. Just as she couldn’t think of a time she didn’t know Steph, she couldn't think of a time she didn’t love her.
It wasn’t just love, either. She needed Steph. Steph balanced her out, kept her sane, kept her temper in check, calmed her down. She would do nothing to jeopardize her relationship with Steph.
It was why she couldn’t kiss her. It stemmed from no lack of desire: she’d wanted to kiss Steph since she learned what kissing was. It was just that Steph didn’t really love her like that. Steph was so affectionate, and sometimes, she misread that affection and acted on it too hastily. They would have kissed and maybe even confessed feelings, and then Steph would’ve taken it back after a week, and things would’ve been ruined.
Even if Steph’s feelings
were
real, which they weren’t, then they would have fought somewhere down the line- Kylie’s temper was unavoidable, and Steph didn’t know how to back down from a fight- and then they would have broken up and everything, again, would have been ruined.
Kylie wouldn’t do that. She wasn’t willing to risk it. She’d been in love with Steph for her whole life. She didn’t need kissing or touching or a relationship. She just needed Steph.
It was becoming sort of apparent, however, that rejecting Steph might’ve led to things becoming ruined anyway. The week progressed in a stilted manner, and on Friday, Steph rode to school with Willy fucking Testaburger again.
On Saturday, Kylie woke up with undeniable determination. She flew up, showered, spent an embarrassing amount of time on her hair, put on matching underwear for no particular reason, and went to Steph’s.
“She’s not home, hon,” Steph’s mom said when she opened the door. “She’s out with Willy. Such a polite boy. I’m so glad they’re reconnecting.”
Kylie smiled fakely. “Yeah, me too. Steph just asked me to wait here until she was done with Willy. We’re planning to study.”
“Oh, that’s nice! Head on up, then.”
It was probably invasive of Kylie to lie to Steph’s mom and creepily hang out in her room alone, but she didn’t really give a fuck.
Her room smelt like her. Her bed was rumpled, and Kylie could see the outline of her body in the sheets.
What the fuck did Willy fucking Testaburger know about Steph? Had he ever seen her bedroom? He would probably think her posters were nerdy. He’d probably want her to make her bed.
Kylie made a cursory search for cigarettes in all of Steph’s drawers. When she found none there, she moved on to the closet. Under the piles of clothes, there was a nondescript, black shoebox. It seemed like the perfect place to hide cigarettes. She pulled it out and opened it.
Inside was, well, not cigarettes. It was a bunch of loose paper, and Kylie dumped it all carefully on to the bed.
There were tons of pictures of Kylie. Not necessarily in a creepy way. They were pictures of Kylie and Steph together, pictures from when they were kids all the way up to the present. Kylie smiled a little to see them. They looked so nice next to each other in photos. Steph’s dark hair next to Kylie’s red in the ones from when they were younger. Steph’s blonde hair next to Kylie’s red in the later ones. Steph smiling, Kylie glaring. Steph and Kylie, Steph and Kylie. It made her ache.
She was sick with it. She needed things to be normal with Steph again. She sifted through more of the photos, feeling progressively more ill with each one, until she reached slips of paper, on which she recognized her own handwriting.
They were notes she had passed Steph in class, all the way back in elementary school. There were tons of them. In addition to those, there were stacks of birthday cards, doodles, anything Kylie had ever written on and given Steph.
It was the creepiest, sweetest, most Steph thing she’d ever seen.
At the sound of a car pulling up, she gathered everything hurriedly and stuffed it back in the closet. She smoothed her hair down and fixed her shirt and sniffed her pit and tried to think of what she could possibly say.
When Steph walked in, what came out was, “Are you dating Willy fucking Testaburger?”
She didn’t even mean to say it. It was just that Steph looked very nice, nice in a way that indicated she had tried to look nice. Her hair was very neat, and her clothes were not ratty, and she smelled like perfume.
Steph’s eyebrows shot downward. “What the hell, dude. Why the fuck are you even asking me that?”
“Just interesting, is all. The fact that you kiss me and then start riding his dick constantly.” It was like seeing a trainwreck. For the life of her, Kylie couldn’t get her mouth to stop fucking moving.
Steph gaped at her incredulously. “Kylie,” she said after a minute. “Are you actually fucking serious? You didn’t want me to kiss you.”
“Oh, and Willy did?”
“Are you seriously being jealous right now?”
“Are you seriously fucking Willy right now?”
“
No,
Kylie, Willy is my friend. But why the fuck would it matter if I was?”
Kylie didn’t answer.
“Kylie, come on. Answer me.” That was just so fucking Steph of her, to be all submissive and agreeable and take whatever Kylie gave her until the minute Kylie actually wanted her to roll over.
“It doesn’t matter. Fuck whoever you want,” Kylie said after a minute, staring at Steph’s legs instead of Steph. They were nice legs. Strong.
“Why the fuck did you even come over here?” Steph demanded.
Kylie was conflicted about angry Steph. It was hot when Steph was angry with someone else. Directed at her, it just made Kylie want to beg for forgiveness.
“I want you to stop acting so fucking weird. I want you to stop getting rides from Willy fucking Testaburger.”
“I’m not going to stop hanging out with him for no reason. And I’m not being weird, Kylie. You’re being weird. If you don’t want to be with me, fine, but stop fucking torturing me for it.”
“What I didn’t want was you pushing your confused goddamn feelings onto me and ruining our fucking friendship. But you’re ruining it anyway.”
“Who the hell said I was confused? And
I’m
ruining it? Me?”
“You are confused, Stephanie. You think just because a girl is your friend that means you must want to kiss her. And you’re ruining it with your goddamn ignoring me and hanging out with other people and dyeing your fucking hair without telling me.”
“Well, excuse me, Kylie, I didn’t realize I had to get your permission to hang out with boys and change my fucking hair . And I don’t want to kiss you because you’re my friend, you fucking idiot. I want to kiss you because I love you.”
“Yeah, you love me because I’m your friend, and you don’t know how to show that.”
“Stop fucking telling me how I feel. If I say I love you, then that’s it. I love you.”
Kylie looked at her. Her chest was heaving a little, and her cheeks were red, and she had run her fingers through her hair so that it stood up a little funny. Kylie wanted her very badly. She was tired of fighting.
“What if we fuck it up?” she asked quietly.
Steph paused, seeming to sense the cool down. “What do you mean?” she asked far more gently.
“I mean, what if we kiss and shit because you think you love me and then you realize you don’t and our friendship is fucked.”
Steph smiled a little. “Is that your only hold-up?”
“It’s a pretty big fucking hold-up,” Kylie responded, which was as good as a yes.
“Kylie, Kylie. I’ve loved you forever. I’m not gonna suddenly realize I don’t. And anyway, we’ve been friends our whole lives. I don’t think anything can fuck up our friendship.”
Steph was always good at calming Kylie down and reasoning with her. Kylie thought about the box in Steph’s closet. She thought about their sleepovers, when Steph would pat her hair until she fell asleep. She thought about how Steph had looked at her before she kissed her, restless and sweet. She thought about how badly she wanted this.
“If we kiss,” she started and saw Steph perk up immediately, “and I mean if , is that it? We’re just friends who kiss?”
“I mean, in essence, I guess. But I’d like to do a little more than just kiss. And I’d like to call you more than just my friend.”
Kylie thought about it. Her and Steph, as they’d always been, but maybe with the added bonus of kissing. And maybe some more romantic hang-outs. And maybe they’d even go to prom together and hold hands at school. Maybe Steph would consult her before she changed her hair, and Kylie would have the authority to ask her not to spend so much time alone with Willy.
“I guess I can’t really say yes yet. That last kiss you gave me was pretty shitty. I can’t date someone who kisses shittily.”
The smile that rose on Steph’s face was the best thing Kylie had seen all week. It lifted the pressure from her chest immediately.
“Well, I guess I just need to try again and prove myself.”
“I suppose that would be adequate,” Kylie said as Steph walked closer and closer to her. From this distance, her perfume was very strong, and Kylie could see all of her eyelashes. Steph put her hands on both sides of Kylie’s neck and leaned it.
It was, of course, a much better kiss than the first. It was long lasting and sweet. Steph pulled away after a moment.
“Dude,” Kylie said after they’d studied each other in silence, “You’re not even gonna slip me some tongue?”
Steph spluttered out a laugh and went to respond. The second she opened her mouth, Kylie was on her. This kiss was distinctly less chaste than the first. Kylie didn’t really know what the fuck she was doing, but she liked the way it felt to run her tongue over Steph’s teeth. She backed them up carefully to the bed and then fell back, bringing Steph down on top of her.
They kept kissing, hungry and inexperienced, until Kylie broke away to say, “Can I touch your tits? Please don’t throw up on me.”
“Fuck you, man,” Steph said, cheeks red from either the tit thing or the puke thing. “Yes, you can touch my tits.”
Kylie rolled them over, tossing her thighs on either side of Steph’s hips. Eagerly, she put both hands down on Steph’s tits and squeezed.
It was fucking heavenly. Kylie wanted to stay here forever. She couldn’t believe she’d ever thought she could say no to this.
“Jesus, dude, be gentle. They aren’t fucking stress balls,” Steph complained, though the breathiness in her voice sort of undermined her bitchiness. Kylie leaned down to shut her up with her mouth.
She moved one of legs so that it was resting between Steph’s and then pushed it up into her crotch. At the same time, she pushed herself down onto Steph’s thigh.
Steph arched up just as Kylie buckled down toward her. They shared the same air, both breathing in hitched bursts, Kylie’s hands still squeezing down on Steph’s tits. She rocked a bit, pushing her leg up into Steph again and her body down onto Steph’s thigh.
Steph made a little noise and pulled Kylie in by her hair, kissing her firmly. Kylie kept rocking until one of Steph’s hands made its way down to the waist of her pants, the other still held tightly to Kylie’s hair.
Unsteadily, Steph’s hand reached down into Kylie’s pants, and she began to feel her through her underwear.
“Jesus fuck ,” Kylie exhaled, arching into it.
“God, you’re damp ,” Steph said.
“Make fun of me one more time, fuck face,” Kylie started until Steph’s hand slipping under her underwear made her break off.
Clumsily, Steph felt around, her wrist at an awkward angle. Still, she made it work and started rubbing against Kylie’s clit. Kylie pushed into it, doing her best to keep pushing her leg into Steph’s crotch.
She didn’t think she could get her hand into Steph’s pants right then with the way they were positioned, but she needed to do something. She rucked up Steph’s shirt and pulled the cups of her bra down. She sort of wanted to make Steph stop so she could just stare at her tits for a while, but instead she just bent over and took one in her mouth.
Steph arched up immediately and made the best, sexiest noise Kylie had ever heard. Kylie did her best not to bite Steph’s nipple off, but it was a little hard to concentrate on that when Steph’s hand was on her clit. Still, she must’ve been doing something right because Steph seemed to be thoroughly enjoying herself.
After a few more minutes of grinding and rubbing and moaning and switching to Steph’s other tit, Kylie felt herself about to come. She gasped with it and moved her mouth to the junction between Steph’s neck and shoulder where she smelt the most Steph-like. She bit down as she orgasmed.
She breathed heavily into Steph’s neck for a minute before rolling over onto her side. Her chest heaved. “Holy fuck,” she said. Steph made a noise of assent.
Kylie rolled over onto her stomach so that she could look at Steph and, more specifically, look at Steph’s chest where her shirt was still rucked up. “Do you want me to, uh, make you finish?”
Steph colored. “I, well, I did.”
Kylie blinked. It was both extremely hot and extremely flattering that Steph could come just from grinding on Kylie’s leg and having her tits sucked. It was, however, unfortunate that Kylie hadn’t gotten to get her hands on Steph’s vagina.
“Dude,” Kylie said, “I didn’t even get to touch your pussy.”
“Fuck you, man. I didn’t even get to see your tits. Next time, we can actually take our clothes off and do it right.”
Kylie just barely stopped herself from sighing dreamily at the phrase “next time.”
Instead, she pulled the covers up and over her and Steph. “It’s noon ,” Steph protested.
Kylie glared at her. “Come here and shut up.”
Steph did as she was told. Kylie kind of wanted to have more sex immediately.
She accepted the reassuring weight of Steph resting her head on her chest instead. Kylie’s hand went to Steph’s head, fingers weaving through it gently. The color really did suit her. Kylie thought maybe she could come around to it.
“Will you start sitting with me at lunch again?” she couldn’t help but ask.
“Yes,” Steph said instantly. “But I’m still going to talk to Willy. He’s my friend. The only thing we really talk about is you.”
That pleased Kylie. “Alright. If we’re doing this, then you’re my girlfriend.”
“Obviously.”
“And you’re going to stop smoking with Carry Tucker.”
“Carry Tucker has a girlfriend. Her and Tweek have been dating forever, you know this”
“I don’t care. I don’t want you smoking, period.”
Steph sighed. “Man,” she said, “My girlfriend is a real bitch.”
Kylie pulled her hair in retaliation. Steph bit her boob viciously.
Steph, Steph, Steph. Steph who was Kylie’s girlfriend. Steph who threw up when she got really nervous, who loved Terrance & Phillip a little too much, who was mean and bitchy and Kylie’s favorite person ever.
She thought about all the people Steph had gotten close to recently. The people who liked her now for her new hair. She thought about how everyone perceived Steph: the agreeable, nicer, friendly yin to Kylie’s yang. She thought about what a cunt Steph really was. Her bad moods and her shitty comments and her maudlin taste in music and her insistence on doing anything possible to piss off her mother. Kylie knew Steph, knew her in a way no one else did, and loved her all the more for it.
She smoothed her hand over Steph’s head and looked down at her. Her pretty eyes were closed, and her hair felt much softer than before, and Kylie wanted to touch her forever and never leave her. Quietly, she reached over and turned off the lamp.