My room was too pink for my liking. I couldn't even remember the last time I had redecorated, the wallpaper had been the same pastel pink for years. I tore my eyes from the wall, bored of looking at them, and glared down at the papers scattered in front of me. I just couldn't focus, so I pushed myself up and towards the wardrobe. Thankfully my wardrobe wasn't as pink and my bedroom, but it was just about as impressive. I threw on some jeans and a pull over hoodie, and folded my school clothes to rest on top of my bed. I unfolded and refolded so many times that I lost count. I needed something to make me busy, or at least feel busy. If I started thinking and fretting over what I wanted to say to Guy, I'd go insane. Maybe it would be better to be spontaneous with my words, or maybe I'd crash and burn and show myself up.
Either way, it was probably better not to think about it until I absolutely needed to. I decided it was unhealthy of me to walk circles around my room, so I wandered downstairs and into the kitchen. Finding a notepad proved to be harder than I thought so I wasted ten minutes looking through draws and under the kitchen table until I saw the notebook peeking down at my from atop the fridge. I jumped up to grab it and to my surprise it didn't slip from my fingers, maybe failure was avoiding me today. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking.
After grabbing a pen, which proved easier than finding the notepad, I tore a page free and wrote Gone out, wont be late, love B. I added a kiss on the end too.
What time had Marceline said band practice finished? Six thirty? Looking at the clock told me it was only five thirty. I groaned. Waiting was never my favorite thing. Well, perhaps not the waiting itself, but the thinking time that came along with it. It was nervous thinking I hated most. With all of this spare time to think, it hit me that Keila would most likely be there with Guy. The girl who Guy cheated on me with. Or had cheated... Or lied about cheating. God, who knows what had happened?
Tired of standing stock-still in the kitchen, I made my way to the living room, but didn't feel like lazing on the couch or watching TV. Instead I went to the front door, picked up both mine and Marceline's bag and left my house, remembering to lock the door before I set off.
The walk helped clear my head a little at least. It was getting slowly darker, the sun falling behind the horizon, but the darkness was nothing to be worried about. My neighborhood was a quiet one; all curfews and perfectly mowed lawns. The only trouble around would usually happen on the other side of my little town. That thought settled me until I remembered that the other side of town was exactly where I was heading.
Thankfully, I didn't run into many problems. The only thing that really happened was a seemingly drunk man almost stumbled into me. For one dreadful moment I thought he was attacking me, until his friend looped an arm around him and pulled them both upright.
"I'm so sorry." Said the man who looked sober. "Sam here started early." The drunk man, Sam, lifted his head to look at me and slurred out what sounded like an apology.
"It's no problem." The sober man nodded and smiled before leading his friend down the street.
Soon I was stood outside of a neat little house with a well-kept garden, there were no flowers but the lack of overgrown weeds made up for it. I was instantly sure it was Marceline's house, the light rock drifting from the closed garage made me sure. Her band actually sounded pretty good until a loud clattering of drums stopped the music in its tracks.
"Sorry, Mar." I heard a deep voice say.
"No problem. Again." That was Marceline. A bass guitar picked up, quickly followed by another guitar, drums and finally a keyboard. So Guy was definitely in there. That made me wonder if I could forgive myself for turning around, heading home, staying in bed and ignoring this mess until it all just... Went away. Somehow. I didn't have time to do any of that because Marceline's front door was slowly creaking open.
"I knew I saw someone out here." Marshal said, perhaps to himself. "Bonnibel, right?"
I nodded.
"You here to see Marceline?"
I nodded again until I remembered that conversations usually require two parties. "Kind of, she said I could come over after practice to talk to Guy but..." I gestured towards the closed garage door.
"Oh right." He looked thoughtful for a second. Man, he really looked like his sister. "You could come hang with us 'til they're done, if you want? Some dumb talent show is on, but it's fun to watch Fionna yell at the TV."
I was more of a Discovery Channel kind of girl, but Marshal was right, that did sound like fun. "Okay."
HE moved to let me inside and shut the door behind me. "It's just this way." He said, heading towards the last door of the small hallway. It might have been a little rude of me, but I was curious about the photographs framed along the wall. This particular photo caught my eye; a photo of two men grinning down at two identical children of about five or six years. I knew it was Marceline and Marshal right away, but it was hard to tell which was which. They both had short tufts of black hair, unbelievable considering how Marceline's hair now hung around her waist.
"Hey Marshal, can I ask you something?" He stopped walking and caught sight of my staring at the tall graying man standing next to who I guessed was their father. Black hair and strong cheekbones giving him away.
"Oh, yeah." Marshal joined me and pointed to the man wearing glasses. "That's Simon. I guess you know him from school, Mr Petikrov? He's a family friend, good man."
I nodded, so that was why Marceline was so casual with Mr Petikrov in the classroom. I had no more questions about the photographs so we walked to the living room where Fionna was indeed yelling at the television set. "She can't even sing! What the flip man? I bet you only voted for her because she has such big-"
"Fionna!" Marshal yelled, ushering me in the room to shut the door. "We have company." He waggled a playful finger at her before laughing.
Fionna jumped up from her place on the couch and came over to me. "Oh, hey! You're Bonnie right? From that fight thing at lunch?" It was an embarrassing way to be remembered, but her grin was infectious, so I returned one as I grabbed her outstretched hand.
"Yeah, Bonnibel. But Bonnie's fine."
"You wanna watch this with us?" Fionna jerked a thumb at the TV behind her. "All the bad acts are getting through, but some of them are soo funny!"
I didn't have time to reply before she bounced back to the couch and patted the space near her. I took the hint and plopped down next to her, Marshal taking his space the other side of Fionna. It was fun, spending time with them both. Fionna fist pumped when good acts got voted in and booed when the bad ones got voted in too. There was one point when a dance group of what looked like real life Barbie dolls got on stage and, well... wiggled was the best word it. The judges all let them through into the next round and Fionna sank to the floor in what looked like agony.
"What the hell was that junk!" She yelled, trying to claw her way back on to her seat, but apparently her grief wouldn't allow it.
It was then that the music provided by Marceline's band faded out. Marshal turned the TV volume down, not needing it on so high now, and looked at me.
I gulped, trying to get rid of the nervous lump in my throat. "I guess that's my cue."
He frowned with what looked like sympathy whilst Fionna nodded sadly at me, apparently filled in on what I was about to do. "Hey, we should hang out more man, you're pretty cool."
I'd never been called cool before, I could feel a triumphant, if not a little shy, smile threaten to spill out on my face. But now was not the time for smiling. "Sure, that'd be great."
"Garage door is on the left." Marshal told me. "You need any help, we'll be here."
I was going to tell him I'd be fine, but I didn't know that, so I nodded in thanks and left the room. I found the door leading into the garage and lingered for a second, listening to the voices through the door.
"Should I leave the board here, or take it?" That was Guy.
"Uh, take it. Haven't decided on where we're meeting up next." That was Marceline's voice.
After deciding it was creepy to standing behind doors, I took a deep breath and eased it open. The band was packing up, putting instruments away and chatting about speed and tempo.
A girl noticed me, smiled a little, I smiled back. "Hey, Mar." She said.
"'Sup Keila?" So that was her. I instantly regretted smiling at her. As much as I hated to admit it, she was really pretty. Beautiful in fact. Keila's skin was flawless and the color of smooth, perfectly brewed coffee. Black hair was sprung up around her head in a loose afro, and her face looked like it had been created in an art studio. I suddenly very small, and very plain.
Her dark eyes were on me, and it angered me to see worry painted there. "Hey, are you alright?" Keila asked me. Guy looked up at her question, his eyes immediately finding mine.
I gulped a second time, trying to gain some confidence before I spoke. "So." I began, thankful my voice wasn't as shaky as I felt. "You're Keila, huh?"
Marceline's head snapped up at the sound of my voice. "Time to sort things out." She whispered, but her voice traveled far through the almost silent room.
Keila pulled her eyes from me to look a Marceline, who sighed and put her red bass down on a makeshift stand.
"This is Bonnibel, And you are so not gonna like why she's here." Marceline explained to her, glaring at giving Guy a pointed stare. I don't think he noticed, he was still staring at me.
"What? Why?" Keila's head spun around to look at everyone, almost asking if they knew what was going on. I would have felt sorry for her if I wasn't so pissed. "What have I done?"
"Oh, it's not you who's done something.." I said, proud of how my voice was holding out, even when I was the most uncomfortable I'd felt in a long time. "Or maybe you have, that's why I'm here. To find out."
Guy stepped out from behind his keyboard, man I hated that thing. I don't know why. Maybe because it was his property, I don't know. All I knew was I was resisting the heavy urge to walk over there and flip the damn thing. "Uh, Bon, can I talk to you?"
"Well, Guy. That's what I'm here to do." I crossed my arms.
"I mean like, in private?" He glanced around the room.
"Oh." I fake gasped, trying my best to make sarcasm drip from my words. "I'm sorry. Am I embarrassing you? I wonder what that feels like."
While it was true I was probably also embarrassing myself, I really didn't care. Mainly because it felt good to sass Guy after what he had done, but also because I caught the grin Marceline sent my way. She looked like she was biting back laughter, and I knew it wasn't aimed at me. How I knew? Well, she kept looking at Guy and blowing air through her nose when he shuffled. I saw her shake her head a few times though. She looked like she was going through an internal struggle.
Laugh at Guy, or be a good friend? I don't think she could quite decide yet.
"Look, I'm sorry." Guy said, raising his arms. "Can we talk about this somewhere else though?"
I'd had enough. I'd barely been there for five minutes, but I was over the situation. "Uh, no. Hey, Keila?" I kept my eyes on Guy, but watched the girl at the edges of my vision.
"Yeah?" I could have sworn the stuttered. I couldn't blame her. If the rage I was feeling was coming across on my face, I'd stutter too.
"Did you sleep with Guy?" No point beating around the bush. And the reactions around the room were fun to see.
The guy (whose name I didn't know) behind the drums looked like he had no idea where he was or what was happening. Keila looked like she's been slapped in the face. Guy looked like he was going to pass out. And Marceline...
Well, Marceline was laughing.
Full on struggling-for-breath laughing.\
"I'm sorry, Guy." She gasped, turning to face him. "I really am but... Man, I'd hate to be you right about now."
Guy looked at her like he either wanted to hit her, or hide his blushing face in her hair. I felt bad, honest. His friend of, I don't really know how long, was laughing at his misfortune. Which sucked for him, but I saw it as karma. Cold, hard, justified karma. I could tell Marceline felt bad too, a look of real apology was on her face when she glanced at Guy. She was probably going to be yelled at when I left. I doubted Guy could hold his own against her though, so I wasn't too worried.
"Whoa, what?" Keila said once she regained her composure. Then looked like she was caught between surprise and humor herself. "Are you serious? Me and Guy?"
I just looked at her. Keila laughing was not something I was going to enjoy.
"You're serious..."
I just nodded as slowly as I could.
"Dude, no." She looked shocked, truly shocked. Maybe Guy had made it up after all. Now I just needed to know why, so I spun on him, hands planted to my hips.
It seemed that Keila had the same idea, she spun too. Now we were standing side by side, both facing Guy. I was happy to see him looking so uncomfortable. Maybe I shouldn't have been, but I couldn't help it. Keila and I must have looked formidable. I knew I was angry, so she must have been to. She'd been dragged into this lie from someone she thought was her friend, that can't have felt good.
Marceline had stopped laughing by now, and joined the two of us. She didn't seem as mad as us, though she had no reason to be.
"Think you better spill, don't you think?" She said, tilting her head and giving him a serious look.
Guy's eyes flicked between the three of us, then back to the heavy built drummer behind him, he only shrugged. Wordlessly, he made his way over to a slightly tattered couch and took a seat. He glanced at me, unable to hold my eyes for too long. I guess that was Guy's way of asking me to sit down, so I made slow, deliberate steps towards the deck chairs opposite him. The garage seriously needed organizing, garden furniture didn't look right inside, but it was cozy. Cozy in a topsy-turvy sort of way.
Keila followed me and plonked down on the chair to my left. I suppose she wanted to know the truth too, I couldn't blame her but I wasn't about to get all friendly with her, so I kept my eyes forward. The phrase the enemy of my enemy is my friend came to mind, but it didn't really fit the situation we were in. It wasn't an all out war, though I felt like causing one. My frustration knew no bounds.
I contained myself enough to sit on the uncomfortable plastic chairs, and carefully listened to Guy's explanation. It was the most childish thing, I would have laughed if deep anger hadn't settled in my gut.
"It was dumb." Guy pushed brown her from his eyes as he began. "I was talking to this bloke, Shane something. Huge player, kind of a douche, but his uncle runs that radio station out of town. He said he could totally get our tracks played, if they were good enough."
Marceline almost sprinted over and planted her hand on the back rest of the sofa. "Really?"
"Yeah, but... It didn't swing." Guy sent her a look that screamed sorry, I tried before continuing. "Well anyway, I had to be on good terms with him so we were talking. He asked me about girls, so I told him I'm with you... Or was." He mumbled.
I frowned and rolled my eyes. Sympathy was something I just couldn't conjure up for him right then. Keila coughed from beside me. "Yeah, that's all great. Where exactly do I fit into this?"
Guy was silent for a while, frowning and chewing the inside of his cheek.
"He asked how many people I'd uh, been with. I just wanted to be cool with him, you know, for the band. I panicked, said your name. He twisted it around so much, made this whole cheating story thing up, it got messy." He dropped his head into his hands. "I'm so sorry, to both of you."
Well, that threw me. He had lied, yes. But it was to impress a boy who could have helped him and the band out. I didn't know if I even had the right to be angry anymore, he hadn't technically done anything wrong. Sort of. I pinched the bridge of my nose and felt a rough sigh escape me. This was all so stressful, and I doubted yelling and pushing things over was going to help me any. It would have helped me look like a nutjob, but that wasn't the look I was going for. I needed to think, to get out of this dim room and process this. I couldn't do that when everybody was looking at me.
I stood, apparently very quickly because everyone jumped. "I... Uh." I had no idea what I wanted to say, so I didn't say anything, just left the room.
"For God's sake Guy, sit down." Marceline scolded Guy from somewhere behind me, and then I heard footsteps. I hoped Guy had taken notice to Marceline and wasn't the one coming after me, I couldn't even look at him. Or I'd punch that nose back into place. Anger and confusion had never been a good chemical cocktail for me; it made my head spin. It was spinning now in a sickly, heavy way. I needed air.
I made it to the front door and scooped down to retrieve my bag, that was when I remembered I'd brought Marceline's along too. I thought about lingering at the garage door and shouting that I'd leave her things out in the hall, but it seemed I didn't have to suffer through going back.
Marceline had stepped in the hallway and was looking at me like she expect me to either pass out or cry. "You forgot to take your bag earlier." I said before she could ask if I was alright, because I knew she would, and I didn't know if I was alright.
"Oh." She took it from my outstretched hand and a little part of me wished our fingers had brushed. I needed some form of human contact, anything to ground me. Otherwise I would spin off in a ball of negative, confusing emotions. It felt that way at least. "Thanks." She said, hanging her back on a hook.
"It's fine."
My hand was already resting on the doorknob so I yanked the door open, fully ready to throw myself into the cool night air. It was almost pitch black outside then, not a star to be seen in the sky. Lampposts littered the street in a seemingly random pattern and the bulbs were very, very dim. Not the most inviting sight in the world, I was not looking forward to walking half way across town.
"You uh," Marceline came up behind me, peeking over my shoulder. It didn't take much effort, she was taller than me. "Wanna stay for a while? My dad can give you a ride when he gets back from work." She must have seen that I wasn't keen on setting foot out there.
"Yeah, I'd like that."
I think I should be done with Guy real soon, I'm trying to ease us into the story here.
Thank you for reading!