Disclaimer: Hey all. This is my first Adventure Time fic and it is an AU. Sorry about that. I would love to be able to write something that fits within the actual world, but I am currently too intimidated by that concept. This is going to be a Bubbline fic. It is probably going to be horribly cliché. I hope you like it anyway.
I do not own Adventure Time or any of its characters.
"All right boys and girls! I expect you all to play nicely. Your mothers and fathers will be here soon to pick you up." Mrs. Angela, my sweet preschool teacher spoke her customary end of the day greeting for the first time that day. The preschoolers' faces lit up with excitement. They had freedom to choose any activity they pleased for the remainder of the day.
"Bonnie! Bonnie!" A pretty little girl with curly locks raced up to me, arms full of toys. "Let's play house!" She squealed in glee. I shut my handwriting book and jumped up.
"Okay!" I followed her skipping step to the play room.
"We have to build a house first."
"Right." The little girl started off, but even at four-years-old, I could tell that her architectural design was horribly flawed. "Maybe you should dress up the dolls for dinner."
"Good idea! That's my favorite part!" The two of us worked in quiet harmony until, at last, we had dolls dressed for the perfect family and an even more perfect house.
"Can I play?" A small girl with long, black hair asked. She held a ratty stuffed animal to her chest.
"Who is it?" My blonde companion asked, peeking her head out of the tower. "Oh, it's her."
"Huh?" I looked between the two. The black haired girl looked frustrated.
"Go away, Marceline. No one wants to play with you. You're a weirdo!" The blonde girl shouted. Marceline bit her lip, eyes welling up with tears. It looked like she was going to cry. Then, she hugged her stuffed animal closer, threw up her head, and puffed up her chest like a proud bird.
"Oh, it's Ruby." She turned her stuffed animal to face her. "Didn't know it was her, did you, Hambo?" She shook her stuffed animal's head. "I've got an idea for a really fun game." Her childish voice took on a menacing tone as she stepped forward. "It's called you better call the doctor!" She kicked the block house down with Ruby inside.
"Marceline!" Mrs. Angela scolded, rushing across the room to retrieve the crying Ruby. Before she took Marceline to the time out chair, Marceline locked eyes with me. I could tell there were many thoughts going on behind her narrowed eyes, but I could not tell what those thoughts were about.
"Don't look at Bonnie like that! She's my best friend!" Ruby shouted. I watched as Marceline's thoughtful anger turned to full, unconfusable anger.
Not long after that, my parents found a magnet school. They thought that the regular preschool was not a big enough challenge for me, so they had me transferred as soon as my test scores showed that I was not only eligible, but bound to be at the top of my class.
Up until eighth, I attended the high school extension of the magnet school. Shortly before the start of my freshman year, it went under. Most of the parents who sent their kids there wanted their kids at more high-class schools and moved. The rest of us didn't have the kinds of parents that had the money to keep the school floating.
"It is a public school, Bonnibel. You will have to work twice as hard to stay ahead."
"It's alright mother. I'll be fine, really." I grasped her hands in mine and smiled. After a while, she sighed and returned my smile.
"If you say so, sweetheart."
"I'll see you after school." I kissed her on the cheek, grabbed my backpack, and left. I was not scared about starting at a new school. My classmates at the magnet school were stuck up and hard to get along with without sacrifice of personal sanity. I had been through Anna's blonde stage and Danielle's modeling career and all the drama that came with the two girls when they decided that competition was inevitable. Public high schools had nothing on that.
It was entertaining to watch the crowds of students wander about. Almost all the freshmen had their heads down if they weren't part of the groups that had pre-formed. Students wearing the colors from old grade schools stood together, looking mismatched. Some girls with tightly combed hair stood close to the boys who might wind up being jocks. They talked loudly and earned various different looks from older girls with the same tight hair and abundance of make-up.
Butterflies sprung to life in my stomach. For the first time, I started feeling the weight of the beginning of high school. I knew that I would be fine in the academics, but the social life worried me. I took out my compact mirror and checked my own make-up. My freshly-dyed pink hair lay straight against my back, each strand tamed with hairspray. The tips were neatly cut. My make-up was all varying degrees of pink. I liked the way it looked, as girly as that seemed.
"And here we have little miss pretty in pink checking herself out in the mirror." A sarcastic voice broadcasted my actions, promptly bringing the readjustment of my lip gloss to a stop. I clicked my mirror shut and looked up. The girl hadn't bothered to stop walking.
"Looks like any other school. How disappointing." The male walking arm-in-arm beside her was looking at some sporty blonde as he spoke. "Good little girls and all." This earned a loud rebuke from the sporty blonde. The sarcastic girl put a hand to her face long black hair spilling over her shoulders.
"Marshal, are you serious?" She groaned and walked away from her male look-alike who had begun a heated conversation with the blonde. The black haired girl looked my way and caught me watching her. She raised an eyebrow. "What are you looking at, Bubblegum?"
"Bubblegum?" I asked, thrown off by the nickname.
"Yeah. You're all pink." She lifted an arm when noticing my continued confusion. "Like bubblegum." She laughed and shook her head. "For one of the brainiacs, you're sure not that smart."
"Hmph. I don't have to stand here and take that from you." I crossed my arms over my chest and walked away.
"Whatever you say, princess."
"Enough with the nicknames!" I yelled but did not turn back. She only laughed.
By the time classes had started, I had found a few girls that I did not mind talking to. One of them had the idea of joining the debate team. This idea caught my curiosity instantly. If I joined the team, I could participate in intense academic combat with worthy components from a variety of different schools. I made sure to write down the times for the try-outs in my planner. Before the bell rang, my first two weeks were booked with introductory club meetings and try-outs for a few teams.
"Now that's getting off to a good start." I smiled to myself and shut my planner.
"Nerd." The black-haired girl from earlier spoke as she walked by. I did not have a chance to retort before the teacher spoke.
"Good morning, class. This is your homeroom, division number 119. My name is Mr. Johnson. We'll begin with attendance." I paid attention to the names, hoping to remember as many of them as possible. This would be my homeroom class until I graduated. It would be in my best interest to get to know their names.
"Marceline." Mr. Johnson called. The black-haired girl raised her hand. The name sounded so familiar. She sat kicked back in her chair, high-heeled boots on the chair in front of her, arms crossed behind her head. Her plaid shirt hugged her body, sleeves rolled up to the elbows. Her ultra tight skinny jeans went into her boots, the bottoms of them completely hidden.
"Bonnibel. Bonnibel?"
"Huh? Oh. Present!" I raised my hand and felt my face turn red.
"Looks like we have our honorary space cadet. Welcome back to earth, Miss Bonnie." I covered my face with my hands, barely catching the expression on Marceline's face that accompanied her laughter.
"Sorry I'm late!" A loud voice cut through the room. I looked up in time to see the sport blonde trip into the classroom, cheeks bright-red. "My name is Fionna!" She sat in the seat beside me and dropped her bag onto the ground with an audible thud.
"Is this going to become a habit?" Mr. Johnson asked.
"To be honest sir, it might be." Fionna answered, honesty radiating from every fiber of her being. Mr. Johnson stared at her, slack-jawed, until the rest of the class burst into laughter.
"This will be one hell of a four years." Mr. Johnson scratched the back of his head. "Alright ladies and gentlemen. I'm passing out a survey the board wants you all to complete. It examines your goals for high school, college, the future, yada yada yada. You've got the rest of the hour to fill it out, socialize, and get your butts to class."
"I like him." Fionna nodded toward Mr. Johnson and smiled. "My name's Fionna. What's yours?"
"You can call me Bonnie. Pleased to meet you." I extended my hand. Fionna cocked her head to the side, frozen for a second before she shook my hand.
"You're so formal! You make me feel like I just walked in on some fancy conference. You don't need to be so polite. You can just say, 'Hey Fionna! What's the word on the streets?' It sounds better." She laughed. "I'm kidding. Partway." I laughed.
"So what classes do you have?" Fionna asked. Her schedule was crumpled in her hands.
"Let's see." I opened my folder and slid it out. "Biology I, algebra II, gym yuck, world history, survey literature, and art. What are your classes?"
"I've got art, gym, world history... mathematical concepts... What the glob is that?" She stopped and looked up at me. "Umm gym... Right. Gym, biology, and survey literature. It looks like we've got everything except math together!" She smiled. I returned it.
I picked up my survey and skimmed through the questions. They were absurd. One of them asked if I thought I would enjoy chopping down trees. That was the most ridiculous of the questions, but there were a few other gems in there.
"Chopping down trees does sound like fun." Fionna bit the tip of her pencil, seemingly in deep thought. "But if I check that, they're going to say I should be a lumberjack again."
"Again?"
"Yeah. We had to fill out these same dumb things last year and it said I should be a lumberjack." She answered, frowning. I couldn't help but laugh. "Hey, you can laugh, but you weren't told your dream job was living in a field with burly men while singing and cutting down trees."
The rest of the day was just as laid back. Teachers went over their syllabuses, had us sign out books, and played name games more times than I thought possible. I saw several of the students from my homeroom and many students from other freshman divisions.
My last class of the day was art. I had been looking forward to the class. I never disliked art and I was excited by the possibility of working with many different mediums. My bag contained sharpened pencils, a sketchbook, and various other traditional supplies. Out of all my classes, the students in this one were from the most diverse age pool. Seniors trying to fit in their art requirement sat unsegregated from the terrified freshmen that tried their best to avoid eye contact.
At my table was Fionna, her newly made friend, Finn, a girl with bright orange hair, and an empty chair.
"Have you met Finn?" Fionna asked. "I'll be back in a second. I've got to go say hi to someone."
"I have not." I offered my hand and watched his eyes go wide. "My name is Bonnibel, but you guys can call me Bonnie."
"H-hi Bonnie." Finn blinked a few times before regaining his exuberant composure. "Nice to meet ya!" He grinned from ear to ear.
"Looks like you've got yourself quite the fan base, huh Princess?" Marceline's voice rung out as she sat beside me.
"That's my seat!" Fionna cried out upon returning.
"Sorry kiddo." Marceline propped her bag against the chair and shrugged. "Bag's down."
"So is mine!" She argued. Marceline slid the backpack to the other side of the table. Fionna clenched her fists and stomped around to the other side of the table. "Do you want to start a fight?" She asked, arms crossed over her chest, lip jutted out in a visible sulk.
"It depends. With who?" She asked and turned her head toward me. When we locked eyes, her lips curved into a grin and she laughed.
"Come on guys." Finn lifted up both hands. Fionna harrumphed and sat back in her seat. Marceline laughed harder. Her long, black hair was so long that it almost touched the floor. I'd seen girls with long hair before, but it never looked good. It always looked scraggly and kind of dull. Hers, though, was the exact opposite. Even though it endured the hustle and bustle of the crowded hallways and the wind of the open windows and courtyard, it was beautiful. Somehow, on her, that didn't seem unusual. Her clothes were old, some off-brand, but they looked like they could very well have been designed specifically to flatter Marceline. Everything seemed perfectly put together even though none of it was.
"Whatever." Fionna muttered her dissent as the teacher walked in.
"Good afternoon my future artists." The teacher walked in. Her hair was braided and thick glasses sat on her nose. "Despite what you may have heard, this is not going to be your typical art class. I want all of you to look at art from different angles. As many different angles as possible." She walked to her desk and lifted up a pack of balloons. "The first thing I want you to do is fill these up with as much paint as you can and tac them up to that canvas over there." Immediately, there was a murmur of excitement. "I want this class to change the way you think of the world. What is normal? What is unacceptable? If you are interested in something, try it. Just because it does not fall within normal conventions does not mean that it is wrong, ugly, or anything of the sort. With that said, let's begin."
As I rose to my feet, I caught Marceline's gaze out of the corner of my eye. She grinned and brushed past me.
A/N: Well, it was going to be a one shot. For the love of God! Why can I not write something short? My angst aside, I am excited to write the next chapter in this. I want to be able to show Marceline's character a lot more and get to developing their relationship as soon as possible.
I hope you'll stick around for the next installment!