𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡 / 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐚 𝐝𝐞𝐥 𝐫𝐞𝐲

"jesus christ y/n!" my door swung open, smashing against the wall. "what, bebe. what." i respond angrily from my bed. she clears her throat then mumbles a 'nothing' before continuing. "let's go out!" she exclaims excitedly, stepping into my room.

"bebe, you do you, but if we're going out you need a shirt." she has on a red halterneck bikini in the shape of small triangles and jean shorts that reach a quarter of the way down her thighs. red heart-shaped sunglasses push back her curly blonde hair revealing her smiling, sun-kissed face.

"okay smartass, we're going to the beach not the bank." she rolls her eyes at me and turns her attention to the decor around my room. her eyes rush to every corner, studying them like she'll be tested on it later. "just us?" i ask, crawling out of bed. it still feels weird to step onto a different wood floor besides the one of my childhood bedroom.

"yeah. i miss you." she whines dramatically. her head tilts to the side, still characterized by her gorgeous smile. "can you hurry up though it's like time to go." her voice doesn't hint at sarcasm. "sure bebe. can you leave so i can get ready?" i respond, my voice shaking with a laugh at the end of my sentence.

she scoffs and shuts the door behind her slowly, not turning around. she jokingly peers through the crack in the door as the distance closes between the door and the latch. "nothing i haven't seen before!" she shouts from the other side before she runs downstairs. her flip-flops click as she hurriedly descends down the hallway and steps.

bebe's presence leaves a mark in my memory. the spot in which she stood burning a hole into my skull. she's like a flash of light, or an energy drink. she's so energetic and erratic in a way that's refreshing. like ice water in hot weather, or lemonade at a state fair. she isn't always cheerful and she is never consistent, which is surprisingly comforting in a way no one else is to me. wendy and heidi are my rocks, but sometimes i want my whiskey neat. bebe makes me feel alive and adventurous. like i'm a brand new person.

i spin a couple times in the floor-length mirror to make sure my bikini straps aren't rolled over. my top covers more than bebe's does, but it leaves little to the imagination nonetheless. i layer the top with a lacy, sleeveless, tank top i have. the straps trail down my back and tie into a bow near the middle. the strings from the high cut of my bikini bottom are visible on the sides of my hips thanks to the low-cut pair of denim shorts i wear.

i quickly scavenge for a bracelet and a hair tie before meeting bebe in the kitchen. "you look so cute!" bebe squeals, grabbing my hand in hers and leading me out the front door.

the sky is a vibrant shade of blue and the sun beats down us. bebe moves her shades onto her face and i wish i brought my own pair. i use my hand to shield my eyes from the blinding rays of the huge sun.

we laugh the whole way down to the beach, sand already coating our sun-screen protected legs. no skin damage for me. waving grass greets us happily as we stumble down the hill we always forget is there. bebe quickly steals two beach towels from the provided corral, throwing them down haphazardly as we rush into the refreshing waters of the cool ocean.

we run until we can't feel the sandy bottom beneath our feet anymore and we're swimming.

"gorgeous, girls." a faux posh accent calls from the shore. he blows a kiss and waves at us once we've spotted him. kenny lays on his side ontop a teenage mutant ninja turtle towel; his normally shaggy blonde hair looks shorter, wet and pushed away from his face. dark sunglasses hide his slate blue eyes. he looks different to me, but not in a bad way. he's still fine, and he still has his silver earrings in.

"hey kenny." bebe waves, extending her arm above the calm water. "he's cute." she turns to me smiling. i nod my head in agreement. she drags me back out onto the beach until we reach kenny. "cute swimsuits." he compliments. i can't tell if he likes them for their fashion or their limited coverage.

our shorts drip water into the sand beneath us. their function is basically useless now that they're soaking wet, so we both discard them. "alright." he lays flat on his back and sighs heavily. he shields his eyes jokingly, peeking through the gaps in his fingers. "shut up." bebe says, folding her shorts in her lap and sitting down. i join her.

"what brings you guys out here?" he asks us, also sitting up. "it's a beach?" i respond, and bebe laughs. "yeah that makes sense." he nods his head and awkwardly whistles to fill the silence that surrounds us after his ridiculous question. "so how are clyde and wendy doing? i have to imagine it's not great." bebe interjects kenny's tune. she casually surveys her nails as she speaks.

"do you really want to know?" kenny questions in response. "no." she answers hesitantly- her statement is more alike to a question. "it's for the better." kenny says, and bebe sighs in resolution. "hey, are you guys busy?" he asks us redundantly with a spike in energy. obviously we aren't busy.

"depends." bebe responds. she looks up at kenny in interest. "a couple of us are going out to the vineyard tonight. there's this place there called chef charlie's kitchen that's supposed to be really good." he straightens his posture and makes a point to look both of us in the eyes.

he's quite the salesman, because bebe accepts the offer on behalf of both of us without bothering to consult me. rude. she's lucky i wanted to go.

"wasshername and her boyfriend won't be there right?" she quickly clarifies, "cause then i am not going." her face is clear with disdain as she pushes her sunglasses back up. i can't believe she's refusing to say wendy's name now, but 'wasshername' is kind of a funny title. "i don't think so." he reassures attentively, and she eases at his words. she wasn't always so quick to anger, but i suppose it's a sensitive topic. it sure seems to be her favorite one though.

"who is going?" i ask. he counts on his fingers as he ticks off each person. "tolkien, nichole, stan, craig, heidi, and i think that's it." his hands tremble, his fingers buzzing without strain to keep them stable. i don't comment on it. "they'll be fine with us coming?" i don't want to intrude.

"yeah?" he squints at me, "why wouldn't they be?" he smiles for the pure action of smiling. i shake off his question (mostly unnoticeable through my shivering), instead looking towards bebe. "home?" she asks simply. i understand what she means, and we gather up our things and say our goodbyes to the beach dweller.

"we didn't really need towels." i tell her as we fold them back up and return them unused. "we sure could have." she gently shakes her head to display the witness of her hair, her damp curls flailing around as water droplets soar through the air. "you can still use it." i suggest, but i should really follow my own advice. my shirt is still soaked.

"what's the point?" she starts up the hill, and i follow behind a couple paces. she waits for me to catch up.

"we were barely in the water." she laughs, realizing that the entirety of our trip was spent talking with kenny. "i think i'll just get in the pool." i respond. might as well get the most of the weather while i still have my swimsuit on. the ocean's too cold anyways.

"smart!" she briefly glances towards me, but focuses her attention back to the path infront of us. "anyways, what does chef charlie's even serve?" she redirects the conversation. i don't remember seeing it when i walked through the downtown, so i'm unsure. i shrug and she moves on. "i kind of miss school." she states dreamily. she moves from subject to subject as we walk back home, bouncing through conversation easily.

i float around for awhile before bebe's running out in her not-so white air forces telling me to hurry up. her hair is no longer wet, and neither are her clothes. she completely switched outfits, which i will also have to do. my shorts are still wet. i put on a weather appropriate outfit and braid my hair into two halves, and then we're gone.

we walk with heidi to the dock where we meet up with the others. nichole runs up and hugs us each personally, "it's been so long!" she tells me with her arms wrapped around me. i agree. i love hanging out with her, but i feel like i've barely seen her all summer. which sucks because we're literally isolated on a private island.

"does everyone have everything? once we leave we aren't going to go back to the shore until we're going home." tolkien gestures with his thumb behind him towards the boat. a chorus of yes' rise up at varying degrees of enthusiasm. he climbs in first and starts the boat, the engine roaring to life. we all file in behind him as the boat lightly rocks from each person stepping in.

everyone except tolkien (who's driving) sits in the seated area behind the captain's seat. there's an area behind us where you can sit on the edge and dangle your feet of the end of the boat, should you feel so adventurous, but none of us opt for that. not tonight.

"i can't wait. i haven't had real food since tolkien's party, and even that isn't real." kenny rubs his hands together, it's unclear if it's in anticipation or from the saltwater laced wind as we speed through the ocean. "what do you mean that's not real?" tolkien turns back to look at all of us, his hands still on the wheel as we drive directly straight. "you know- it's not actual food." he explains. stan interjects, "if you would cook or at least open the fridge, you would have food. it's insane how much kraft mac and cheese you go through." kenny hold a hand to his chest, feigning shock.

"rude!" he shouts over the rumbling motor. i'm sure it wouldn't be so loud if we simply coasted to our destination, but it seems dinner is an urgent matter. i grip the bottom the underside of the booth we're in so i don't get flung across the boat. "mac and cheese is gross." craig comments from my right side. bebe's on my left. "what?" tolkien yells, losing focus on the sea infront of him again. "he said mac and cheese is gross!" kenny responds, speaking loud enough to be heard. "no- that's just the shitty kraft one that you don't like. trust me, try some real mac and cheese tonight." tolkien turns back around. i guess that kind of narrows down the type of restaurant we're eating at.

i look up at craig since i see him turns towards me. "i like your shirt." i compliment honestly. i do. it's a light blue ringer tee with dark blue as the secondary color around the sleeves and neck. "what?" he leans closer to me to hear me properly. "i said, i like your shirt." he looks down at himself after i repeat myself, and then leans back over. "thank you." he states simply but not with any hostility. i smile in response and his eyes lightly trail over my features, but doesn't replicate my gesture. he turns back around to yell something to tolkien. he's very odd.

a couple more unmemorable conversations with the other passengers, and we're docked and heading down the pier to civilization besides other boats. tolkien acts as our guide since he says he's been here before with his cousins. it's not a long walk, and is not all that far from that gift shop i went to with butters and kenny. we walk a couple blocks past it.

"where is it?" bebe asks the group. we travel in a large group, all of us herded into one big circle. "a couple minutes away from here. it's down this longer road away from all the brick buildings. it's white and pretty close to the shore." tolkien responds. he's the only one who would know anyway, none of us used our phones to guide us. just our blind faith in tolkien's navigation skills. but that works just fine, and as predicted we're here.

it's a small building with white siding and a gabled roof with red shingles. a large sign out front above the red door displays the name, chef charlie's kitchen. two symmetrical windows on the front side of the establishment reveal a lively crowded interior, which is surprising considering the lack of excitement outside. the inside is a completely different story.

there's a bar in the back of the open area, and many options of seating in the front part. the door to the kitchen constantly swings open as stressed waiters and waitresses carry out steaming plates and cold drinks. the inside is decorated in part with sea shells, worn flags, license plates, framed pictures, and white boards displaying the weeks specials. everywhere you look there is something different showcasing the history of the shop, or island, or i suppose chef charlie. fish themed string lights hang above us, but they are useless in providing light thanks to the glass windows on the front and left walls. the rest of the wall space is dedicated to the cluttered furnishings of a full life. pillars hold up the second floor, and they're full with child-drawn artwork and thank you cards in big letters. polaroids of bright, young, smiling, kids accompany them.

we're seated after a couple minutes of waiting by a busy woman with vibrant red hair. she speaks hurriedly, and moves just as fast. i'm surprised we were seated so timely though. every single seat looks full, including the bar stools. and it's like 6:30.

heidi skims over the menu slowly, flipping it over and over again as everyone else decides what to order. "what are you going to get?" i ask her. it's a soul food and fish place, so not much for vegans like her. "i think i'll get the fried green tomatoes and mashed potatoes." she tells me quietly. "they have vegan mac and cheese here." craig joins into our conversation, pointing on his menu and showing her where it's written. "i don't know if it will be any good, and i don't want to waste my money." she shrugs, and he moves on.

"when was the last time you were here?" i ask tolkien at the head of our full table. "last summer. me and my cousins came here before we flew back home in august. it's only open for a short time frame anyways; may to september." he sets his menu in a pile with nichole's beside him. it makes sense they aren't open year round, but i'm sure they wouldn't lose any buisness if they were.

we all sip on our water while we wait for our server- some more patiently then others.

"what can i do you all for?" our waitress comes up to us, an exhausted smile displayed on her face. she starts with tolkien, then goes counter-clockwise towards nichole. i'm about third to last. "what do you recommend?" kenny asks, knowing full well he decided on a meal already. "the lobster roll is a must." she responds in a smooth boston accent, not at all fazed by the goofy look on his face as he stares up at her. "i'll have that then." he closes his menu and she collects it. i order, then heidi is after me, and then craig. "i'll have chicken tenders and the vegan mac and cheese, thanks." he hands her his menu.

heidi looks at him knowingly, tilting her head up at him. he shrugs. "dude are you 7? chicken tenders?" kenny leans forward in his seat to look at him closer, singling him out. "you ordered a lobster roll and think you're the shit now?" he responds defensively. heidi gently pats the side of craig's arm. "kenny, that's what you told you were getting a minute ago." stan chimes in, laughing at kenny. kenny elbows him in the side and smiles awkwardly at the rest of the table.

"are you guys staying after?" stan asks me while kenny makes conversation with bebe. i don't know what he's talking about, and i state just as much. "we're going to go swimming, but at night." he tells me. i'm not sure i'm invited or not since kenny didn't mention it. "how rebellious of you." i joke. i go to take another sip of my water but it's empty. "you want mine?" he notices, holding his up preparing to move it across the table. "i'll just wait till our waitress comes back." i shrug.

"very cool kenny." bebe half-marvels at one of kenny's stories i almost catch the end of. "dude, you don't even know." he continues, going on about how he had to battle some homeless person. it's an insane occurrence to happen to someone, but he's more focused on retelling his refined fighting abilities then the fact he was fighting a homeless person over god knows what. "yeah i beat his ass." he confirms at the end; and then our waitress walks up.

her confused expression is short lived as she begins handing us our individual plates. "would you like a refill?" she asks me, her voice sweet and buttery. i nod my head and she makes her way to the bar and grabs an icy pitcher that drips water onto the wooden floor as she returns. she kind of leans forward to fill my glass, and kenny ogles her as she does so. stan slaps the back of his head, which kenny quickly rubs tentatively. "ouch." he mumbles.

dinner was the least interesting part of our meal, because as soon as we all finished a larger man with a bright red shirt and a grease-stained apron walks out and everyone at my tables mouths dropped in shock. "oh my god, is that.." bebe points at him as she turns to the other half to the table, looking between them and the guy, who i presume is the chef. "chef!" kenny stands up, waving at him. the chef faces him after clasping a man at the bars back in a show of affection. he squints, and then his smile lights up around his dark beard and he comes towards us. how do they know the chef?

"kenny? is that you? stan!" he walks around the table and envelops the boys in a proper hug, one which they return. he holds them tightly in his arms and they laugh and struggle under his grasp. "who's this?" i whisper to heidi. "i forgot, but he seems so familiar." she furrows her brow in thought. "hello there children!" he turns to face all of us after he finally releases the boys. his voice is deep and orotund, it's nice. "it's chef! he was the chef at our elementary school until he moved away." heidi explains, suddenly remembering.

i've never met him. "when did you start working here?" tolkien asks him as he sits down at the opposite side of the table. "working here? i own this place!" he laughs heartily. tolkien stares in shock, his mouth slightly parting. "seriously? i've been coming here for years!" chef takes a deep breath and looks around at all his former students, letting their grown-up figures replace the small children he once knew.

"who's this?" he grins at me, but it isn't sinister. his words might be considered antagonizing if they were said by anyone else- but his manner is so calm and relaxed, i feel completely comfortable with him. "y/n, she moved to southpark a couple years after you left." stan explains, speaking for me. it's whatever.

"nice to meet you." he greets, then laughs again. "gosh, you've all gotten so old." he shakes his head and tears his eyes away from the teenagers. his hands rest on the table and as he begins to converse with stan, kenny yelps and points at his fingers. "you're married?" his hands run through his blonde hair and rest on the top of his head in an almost comical expression of surprise.

"well it's only been 6 years since i've last seen you!" he pauses for a moment to think on