"Hey, are you ready to go?"
Bonnie met Marshall's gaze and she hated that the first thought she had was same eyes as her. She knew she shouldn't be thinking that. She shouldn't be thinking anything like that. She should be thinking about how handsome he looked in his suit. And he did look handsome; his hair was still messy, but Bonnie supposed that was a genetic thing, because Marceline's was always messy too, but in that attractive I made it messy on purpose way.
Don't you think it's funny how your thoughts always go back to her, Bonnie's brain decided to ask her. She didn't answer that question.
Instead, she ignored it all together and flashed Marshall a smile. He was her friend, and a good guy, and she was happy she was going with him. "Yeah."
"Cool," He grinned and gestured towards the car. The car that was Jake's and wasn't Marceline's. Wasn't she driving them? "Let's go."
She asked just as much as she followed him over to the car. "Isn't Marceline driving us?"
"Nah, she had to be there earlier to set up with the band, so Jake's giving us a ride," Marshall said, and Bonnie supposed she should've expected that. "That was another reason I didn't want to help them out tonight."
"I'm looking forward to hearing them play," Bonnie said, glossing over the fact that it was probably the thing she was looking forward to the most. He opened the car door for her, and she climbed in the back seat with a quiet thank you, quickly distracting herself by greeting her friends. "Hey, guys."
"Bonnie," Lady smiled a little bit too enthusiastically, holding up a little hip flask, "want some? You look flawless, by the way."
"Thanks, and no thanks, Lady. And you look amazing too," Bonnie said, looking over at Jake as he started to drive, "You haven't been having any fun yet, have you?"
Jake laughed, "Nah, of course not. Lady and Elle had a pact that they'd pregame once they were ready. You can bet Elle will be completely gone already."
"I'll take a little bit of that," Marshall got the flask from Lady and had a long drink, "also, fair warning, Guy said he might spike the punch."
"Someone always does," Jake commented, "wasn't it Keila who did it last time?"
"No, that was the time before," Lady said, "she got caught and it was hilarious. Principal Citron walked her out of the gym with like ten security guards. Like she'd killed someone."
"Must've been someone else last time, then," Marshall replied, and even though she'd said no to Lady's offer, he held the flask out to Bonnie. "Want some?"
"No, thank you," Bonnie said, turning to glance out of the window. It shouldn't be too long until they were at school. She just wished she'd brought her own drink, if the punch was inevitably going to be spiked.
When they parked up outside the school, Bonnie spotted Marceline's car. She wondered if they'd already be playing. Checking her watch, she supposed they would; the dance was advertised to start at seven and it was nearly half past.
Marshall held out his hand to help her out of the car, and Bonnie passively glanced at it. She took it, hoping to feel something, but it was just… nothing. She felt that flash of guilt again and remembered what Marceline had said. I just don't want my brother to get hurt. She'd promised it wouldn't happen, and she had to stick to that.
"Lady, Bonnie!"
Elle came stumbling over, a weedy looking boy who she was probably with to make her on-again-off-again boyfriend Brad jealous following behind. She grinned at Bonnie, looking between her and Marshall like she'd won some kind of wager. "I told you, opposites attract! I knew you weren't some secret Mormon! Those are the ones that don't get with anyone, right?"
Jake nudged her, proving his hypothesis that Elle would already be drunk. "See?"
"This is Wyatt, you guys," Elle brought the boy of the week forwards, and shot a rather obvious glare over at Brad as he walked past with Melissa. Bonnie really didn't understand Elle and Melissa's friendship. Sometimes they were friends, and other times they were fighting over a boy.
They all murmured hellos to Elle's new guy – Jake even muttered good luck – and as they walked into the gym together, Bonnie let go of Marshall's hand under the guise of checking her phone. It was getting more and more obvious that she was making a huge mistake.
Should've listened to Marceline, that little voice spoke up at the back of her head, really, Bonnie, you know this is just a last-ditch effort to fix yourself. Give up on it.
"Hey, do you want some punch?" Marshall asked her, and almost like he knew what she was going to say, he quickly added, "No alcohol. Promise."
"Okay, sure. Thanks." Bonnie said, and he grinned, heading over to the punchbowl. She sat down at one of the tables surrounding the dancefloor and finally had the chance to look up at the stage. What she saw was positively mouth-watering.
Marceline was wearing a white button up shirt with the top two buttons left loose and a black tie casually around her neck. She was still wearing her usual ripped black jeans and boots, and the rest of the band were dressed the same as they played, but in Bonnie's opinion, Marceline looked the best. She was singing a song Bonnie didn't recognise and playing her bass, and she never knew that playing an instrument could be so… hot. Her shirt was rolled up at the sleeves and Bonnie could see her forearm muscles as she played and every breath she was taking to sing so beautifully and-
She shook that thought from her head. Bad Bonnibel, she chastised herself, and elected to look over at Keila, who was jumping around the stage playing her guitar. They were incredibly talented, even Bonnie knew that, and she knew nothing about music. She saw the passion and the drive and it created magic.
Her gaze drifted over to Marceline again, and she swore that Marceline noticed her, just as Marshall blocked her view of the stage and held out a cup of punch, "Here. Punch, non-spiked, as promised."
"Thanks, Marshall," Bonnie tore her gaze away from the stage and looked around at her friends. She realised who was missing and asked Lady, "are Finn, Phoebe and Fionna not coming?"
"I love how she's like an alien," Elle laughed at her question like it was the dumbest question ever asked, "it's the junior prom, Bonnie. They're sophomores."
"Who cares if she didn't know," Marshall said, and when Bonnie smiled gratefully, he asked, "do you want to dance?"
Bonnie looked over at the dancefloor. There were quite a lot of people on there, but she supposed that was to be expected when a very talented band were playing. But the song was an upbeat pop cover – that Ariana Grande one that Marceline had mentioned she and Keila were working on – and Bonnie really didn't want to fall on her face in front of Marceline. No. Marshall.
"Uh, maybe not right now," Bonnie said, "don't want to fall flat on my face trying to keep up with a fast song."
"Oh my god, guys, we should take a group picture!" Elle squealed loud enough for the entire gym to hear them. "Let's go, let's go, there isn't even a line."
The gossip grabbed both Bonnie and Lady by the wrists and dragged them over to the photographer, giving their dates no choice but to follow behind begrudgingly. As they got into position for the photograph, and Marshall squeezed in between herself and Lady, Bonnie felt that pang of guilt again. She knew her smile probably didn't look genuine.
It was genuine when she recognised the song Marceline had started singing. Paper Rings by Taylor Swift. She'd remembered Bonnie's favourite Taylor Swift song. The camera flashed as Marceline sang the lyric you're the one I want, and Bonnibel wished she was talking about her.
"Hey, you finally started to perk up," Marshall commented once they were free to go from Elle's mini photoshoot, "I was worried I was doing something wrong."
"It's not you, I'm just…" crushing on your sister, "not in the right headspace right now."
"Maybe a little dancing would help," Marshall said, and when Bonnie went to decline again, Paper Rings turned into Lover and he said, "see, a slow song."
She looked at his outstretched hand and then at his hopeful expression. Feeling immensely guilty, she took his hand and followed him to the dancefloor.
Bonnie had no idea how to slowdance. She'd never even attempted it before, not at her year eleven prom back home. She and Bubba had basically gone because they felt like they had to, enjoyed the free meal – since they both had perfect attendance, they got a free meal and free tickets – and after eating, had gone back to Bubba's house and watched a few episodes of Friends before he took her back home to her uncle's. She didn't like not knowing how to do things.
He took her by the waist, and she tensed up so much she probably looked like a wooden doll. He laughed, "Wow, do you finally not know how to do something?"
"Admittedly, yes," Bonnie said. It was taking everything in her not to look up at the stage. Hearing Marceline's beautiful voice was hard enough without looking at her. "I've never really… danced before. Unless you count playing Just Dance with Bubba, and even then, I always lost."
Marshall chuckled, "Good thing the guy takes the lead, then. Here."
He took her hands and placed them on his shoulders. It did nothing to help her loosen up. He pulled her closer by the waist and started moving slowly, and she looked up at exactly the wrong time. Piercing green eyes met hers, and not the ones that were right in front of her. Marceline had a look of… something on her face, something Bonnie couldn't read, but it shook her to her core.
She pulled away from Marshall abruptly and mumbled, "Sorry, I can't do this," and turned tail and ran out of the gym's big heavy double doors. She pushed past some of the later arrivals, running around the back of the building, out onto the deserted football field.
Bonnie collapsed onto the cold grass and bit back the tears. No. She wouldn't cry over this. Deep down, she'd known this would be a mistake. She'd known that she didn't like boys right around the time she'd realised she liked girls. She tried to swallow the knot in her throat. Maybe it would alleviate the hollow guilt at the pit of her stomach.
"Hey."
She twisted around and frowned at Marshall. He'd followed her, even after she'd just left him there and generally been a pretty awful date all night? "Hi."
Her voice was shaky, and she wondered if those tears would keep trying to get out. Somehow, she managed to maintain composure.
He smiled at her, a soft, comforting smile that Bonnie had seen on Marceline before. "Everything okay?"
"Not really," Bonnie admitted, letting out a long sigh in the hopes all her worries would flow out with it. They didn't. "I'm sorry. I'm a terrible date."
"Nah, it's okay," Marshall waved away her apology, "maybe we should go out again some other time instead? You know, when you're feeling better."
Bonnie supposed she should have expected that question. Nothing could ever be easy. She sighed, stretching out on the grass, listening to the quiet echoes of Marceline's band back in the gym.
"I should want to. That's what gets me about this whole thing. I should, but I don't." Bonnie couldn't look at him. Not until she'd said her piece. "You're one of the nicest boys I know. You're funny, attractive, and my polar opposite, which is something that I find I need to balance me out. I should like you, and I should want to go out with you. But instead, all I can think about is her."
When Bonnie looked up at Marshall, he didn't look at all upset. Instead, he was smiling at her comfortingly, when she was the one rejecting him. He sat down next to her and asked, "Her?"
"Marceline," her name tumbled out of Bonnie's mouth, and for a moment, she wondered what it was about the Abadeer siblings that made her trust them. She groaned, hiding her head in her hands. "I'm gay. God, I actually said it out loud. I'm gay."
It was like a fifteen-tonne weight had been lifted off her chest. Bonnie felt like she could jump up and do a happy dance, despite the ever-constant fear. She'd said it. She'd actually said it. And to a whole other person, too!
Oh. Wait a second.
She turned her head sharply and looked at Marshall. There was a little surprise on his face; his green eyes were wider than usual, the way Marceline's got when she was surprised, and she quickly blurted out, "You can't tell anyone."
"I know. I won't." Marshall said, and he sent her an easy smile. "It's okay. Thanks for telling me."
"You're the first person I've said that to." Bonnie admitted, and when he put an arm around her, she actually leaned into it. "Thank you for being so cool about it. You're an amazing guy."
"Yeah, I know," Marshall flashed a cocky smirk, and then wiggled his eyebrows at her suggestively, "so, you and Marceline, huh?"
"Oh god," Bonnie groaned, "you can't tell her. She'd laugh in my face."
"No, she wouldn't," Marshall rolled his eyes, "Marceline adores you. Aside from Keila, you're like her best friend."
"You're pretty much just confirming she'd laugh in my face." Bonnie retorted. "Ever heard of a place called the friendzone? Besides, she's like… cool. And I'm a bit of a nerd."
"A bit?" Marshall joked, and Bonnie shoved him lightly, "Damn, Butler, cool it with the violence. You're cool. And Marceline knows that. Anyway, want to go back inside and laugh at the sappy losers attempting to slow dance?"
"Sure," Bonnie smiled, and when he stood and offered his hand, she took it. He helped her up and let go of her hand, and Bonnie followed him back inside. She was immensely grateful for him and how understanding he'd been. At risk of sounding like a pathetic schoolgirl with an even more pathetic crush, Bonnie asked, "You really think Marceline thinks I'm cool?"
Marshall smiled, "I know she does. I mean, she lets you call her Marcy. If I did that, she'd smack me."
Bonnie raised her eyebrows, her brain attempting to form some other nickname that Marceline might like more. "She doesn't like that?"
"Only Simon has ever really called her that and gotten away with it," Marshall said, and Bonnie wondered who the hell Simon was. "Keila too, sometimes. I guess she likes it when it's someone she really cares about."
"Oh," Bonnie let herself wear that stupid, crush obsessed smile, "okay. That's good, then. Are you really okay?"
"Are you kidding?" Marshall grinned, "Do you know how many girls are going stag tonight? This is the perfect opportunity. Especially if I tell them my date didn't work out."
Bonnie rolled her eyes, "Poor girls."
"Thought I was an amazing guy?" Marshall retorted, "I'm hurt, Bonnie."
"Just don't break any hearts, okay?" Bonnie replied, "I'll feel partially responsible."
Marshall laughed. "You've got my word. Now let's get back inside."
It was funny, how fast the dance seemed to go by once she was no longer feeling incredibly guilty. She spent time with her friends, watched as Marshall flirted with the lonely single girls, and spent a considerable amount of time drooling over Marceline. How she had enough endurance to play for nearly four hours straight, Bonnie wouldn't know. She seemed to get lost in the music, and Bonnie could easily see the passion flowing through her as she played.
But finally, Marceline's band were finished, and the party was over. Bonnie checked her watch for the time, and it was nearly ten-thirty. She supposed there would be an afterparty, but she'd much rather settle into bed with a nice cup of tea and a book.
"Let's go," Jake threw an arm around her shoulder, Lady on his other side, "afterparty time. I finally get to have a drink!"
"Can you guys drop me off at home on your way?" Bonnie asked, seeing how Lady pouted in disappointment. "I'm a little tired."
"You owe me ten bucks, Lady!" Elle called, and Bonnie glanced over at her. She was hanging off that Wyatt guy's arm and wearing a smug expression. "I knew you wouldn't come out after, Bonnie."
Bonnie shrugged. Maybe she was predictable. She didn't mind. "One party is enough for one day."
Marshall stole her away from Jake as Elle walked out on Wyatt's arm. They were almost at the door, and the last few stragglers were heading out when he nodded over at the near-empty stage and said, "She's finishing clearing up all the music stuff and then she'll take you home if you wait."
Bonnie laughed at the absurdity of his advice. "Kind of hilarious how you went from my date to my wingman in the space of an hour."
Marshall chuckled, "You can come to the afterparty with us if you want."
"No chance," Bonnie retorted, glancing over at the stage. The two other members of Marceline's band – the sandy haired keyboardist and the burly drummer – were dismantling the drumkit, the last thing left on the stage other than a big, heavy looking black case. "She's definitely still here?"
"Yeah, I just saw her take her amp and cables out to her car and there's no way she'd leave her bass here," Marshall said, heading towards the door, "she'll take you home if you ask. See you later, Bonnie."
She waved as he headed towards the big double doors. "Bye, Marshall."
Bonnie looked back at the stage with a nervous flutter in her stomach. Maybe she shouldn't. Marceline had seemed a little annoyed with her for going to prom with Marshall, and if she found out that it hadn't exactly ended the way Marshall might've wanted, what's to say she wouldn't be mad? Maybe she should go. She should catch up with her friends and deal with the afterparty.
She'd just taken her first steps towards the door when she heard Marceline's soft voice. "Bonnie?"
She turned around, aware that her smile was sheepish and bordering on guilty. Marceline was carrying a case that looked quite heavy and seemed little confused as to why she was still there. "Hi, Marcy."
And then, avoiding the question on Marceline's face, the one she was probably about to ask, she quickly changed the subject, looking Marceline up and down rather unapologetically. She looked completely gorgeous in that white shirt and black tie.
"Of course, you're still wearing jeans," Bonnie commented, glancing at the black jeans Marceline had on. They were ripped at the knee, like all her other pairs. Bonnie wondered if she owned any that weren't ripped. "I don't know what I expected."
Marceline laughed, dropping down to sit on the edge of the stage and patting the spot next to her, "Well, it's a semi-formal, so the top half of my outfit is formal, but the other not so much. Gotta stay with my rockstar image, Bon. That's part of my charm."
"Well, I have to say," Bonnie tried not to betray too many unsavoury thoughts she might've been having as she hopped up to sit next to her on the stage. "You really look good in a shirt and tie."
If it hadn't been for the darker lighting in the room, Bonnie could've sworn that Marceline was blushing. "Thanks. So… how did things go tonight?"
She knew that Marceline would ask. Of course she would. She cared about Marshall and wanted to know if Bonnie had hurt him like she'd suspected, so naturally she'd ask.
"Good," Bonnie finally decided, "maybe not in the… traditional sense. But it was good. And Marshall is okay, so you don't need to worry about him. Or punch me for breaking his heart. I know you wouldn't, but… still."
"Considering I saw him dancing with like, three other girls, I kind of assumed," Marceline said, and Bonnie didn't expect when she asked, "are you okay? You know… with things?"
"Yeah. I think I am." Bonnie said, and she was surprised when she wasn't lying. She laughed to herself, mostly to mask what she felt at the pit of her stomach. "I mean, I'm scared, obviously. But I won't always be scared."
In a moment of bravery – or maybe stupidity, Bonnie wasn't sure – she rested her head on Marceline's shoulder. Marceline jumped, like she didn't expect it, but wrapped an arm around her comfortingly. "Good. I'm proud of you."
Bonnie savoured the feeling of Marceline's arm around her before lifting her head up and reaching over to tap the big case Marceline had been holding. "So, what's in the box?"
"My favourite axe, I'm taking you out into the woods and murdering you when we leave," Marceline joked, and Bonnie rolled her eyes, "Technically, it is literally my favourite axe. It's my bass."
She unfastened the clips on the case and flipped the lid open, gently pulling the instrument out and placing it on her lap. It was bright red and looked extremely well looked after, but that didn't surprise Bonnie. She reached her hand out to pluck one of the thick strings but paused, "Can I?"
"Go for it," Marceline flashed her the smile that always made her melt, and Bonnie ducked her head to hide her blush, staring rather intently at the bass.
She plucked the top string and blinked at the deep sound it made. The string was hard on her finger and she frowned, "And you played that all night? How are your hands not shredded to pieces? Or do you have a guitar pick?"
"Picks are for weenies like my brother," Marceline shrugged, but answered her question, picking up the instrument properly and playing a quick bassline out of nowhere, "just practice, I guess. I'm used to playing it for long periods of time."
"Play something for me," Bonnie said, and then realised she'd basically been doing that all night and probably wouldn't want to, so she quickly added, "You don't have to, you're probably tired…"
Marceline laughed, "Never too tired for music, Bonnie. Just something quick, though. They might lock us in here."
"Wouldn't be so bad, we could sneak food from the cafeteria and sleep in the library," Bonnie said, but to herself thought and I'd be with you. "Okay. Play something."
Marceline cleared her throat, and Bonnie realised it was probably tired from the singing she'd done all night and felt guilty again about making her sing. But then Marceline started playing, and any regrets Bonnie might've had flew right out of the window.
"Slow dance with you, I just wanna slow dance with you, I know all the other boys are tough and smooth and I got the blues, I wanna slow dance with you," Bonnie's heart fluttered as she listened to Marceline sing. The bass picked up from single notes to strumming and Bonnie wondered how an instrument could make her feel so fluttery. "I wanna slow dance with you, I just wanna slow dance with you, why don't you take the chance, I've got the moves I'd like to prove, I wanna… slow dance with you."
The last note rang out on the bass, and before Bonnie could say anything, Marceline just murmured, "It's really rough, but…"
"It was amazing," Bonnie murmured, and really meant it. She met Marceline's gaze and felt her heart do that jump again. Not kissing her was the hardest thing Bonnie had ever had to do. "Anyway. We should go. Before the teachers think everyone's gone and lock us in."
Marceline looked at her for a second longer, long enough to make Bonnie wonder if she could've been singing about her, and then occupied herself with putting her bass away. "Yeah. You're right. Let's get going."
Bonnie hopped off the stage, and once Marceline had shut the clasps on her bass' case, she jumped off too.
"Do you have everything?" Bonnie asked her. "All your music stuff packed away?"
"Mhm, my bass was the last thing I needed to get. The rest of the guys took their stuff home already. Keila was giving them a ride and I told her I could get all my stuff." Marceline said, thanking her when she held the double doors open. Bonnie followed her outside, enjoying the cool summer evening. "I guess I'm taking you home, then?"
"Please. Unless you were serious about taking me to the woods to kill me, then I think I'll get the bus," Bonnie said, and Marceline just laughed, "yeah, Uncle Peter is probably waiting up. I think he was rather nervous when I said I was going to prom with a boy. He never had anything to worry about, though."
Marceline hummed, unlocking her car and laying her bass across the backseat as Bonnie got into the passenger's side. "Are you going to tell him that?" She paused to get into the car, and then asked, "or is he one of the church-going traditionalist ones that you mentioned?"
Even the slight reference to that made her feel a little ill, but instead of thinking about them, she merely replied, "Well, he's gay, so I don't think he is."
Marceline raised her eyebrows. "Huh. Wasn't expecting that. At least you know he'll be accepting."
"Was your dad accepting?" Bonnie asked. She didn't know what made her say it, probably just pure curiosity. Marceline didn't seem to hide the fact that she was bisexual, so surely her dad had to know. "Or have you not mentioned it to him?"
Marceline laughed a little bitterly. "Bonnie, my dad isn't even accepting of me playing music, so you can imagine how the bisexual conversation went down. It was dumb of me to even think about telling him, anyway. He practically exploded."
"Oh," Bonnie felt bad for asking, so she reached over and grabbed Marceline's hand, giving it a soft squeeze, "I'm sorry."
"It is what it is," Marceline shrugged, and she squeezed Bonnie's hand back before dropping it and turning the key in the ignition, pulling out of the school's car park. "He's never going to be happy with me no matter what I do, so it doesn't really matter. If he could pick his kid, he wouldn't pick me. But that's fine, because the feeling is completely mutual."
"Marcy," Bonnie wanted to hug her, but she was driving, so she settled for reaching over and squeezing her shoulder. She tried not to worry when Marceline winced. "You shouldn't say that. He might be a little bit… pushy with wanting you to do what he wants, but he's still your dad and he loves you."
"Well, you don't really know anything about it, so I'll say what I want," Marceline almost snapped, and Bonnie felt that pang of hurt in her chest. It was the same way she felt when Marceline had confronted her about going to prom with Marshall. But then Marceline sighed and mumbled, "Sorry. It's just a sensitive subject."
Bonnie could understand that. "It's okay. So, are you looking forward to the summer holidays? I know we still have final exams around the corner, but after that, it's summer."
"That's cute," Marceline said, and when Bonnie frowned at her, she mimicked her accent and said, "Summer holidays."
"That's what they're called, you meanie," Bonnie rolled her eyes, "now answer my question."
"Why yes, your majesty, I am looking forward to the splendid time of year called the summer holidays, so much more time to drink tea and have crumpets with the governor," Marceline mimicked her accent again, but with a singsong like happiness that was foreign to her usual sarcasm, "It's lovely weather for a game of cricket, dear chappie!"
"Oh my god, I'm never talking to you again," Bonnie said, but she couldn't stop herself from laughing, "that was terrible."
Back to speaking normally, Marceline grinned, "You love it."
She did, more than she'd like to admit, but outwardly, Bonnie just scoffed. "You wish."
She was more than a little disappointed when Marceline pulled up outside her house. The light in the living room window was on, so she knew she was right with her assumption; Peter was waiting up.
"I'll wait for you to get inside," Marceline said, but she didn't need to say it. Bonnie had noticed that she always did it, even back on Christmas Eve when they didn't like each other, and Marceline had given her that lift home. "I'll see you at school, nerd."
It was a little awkward because of the gear shifter, but Bonnie leaned over and gave Marceline a quick hug. And then, entirely spontaneously, decided to press a kiss to Marceline's cheek. "I'll see you later."
She practically jumped out of the car, because the last thing she wanted was for Marceline to ask why she'd just done that. Bonnie didn't really know why, and the fact that she'd actually done it was spinning through her head as she walked through the front door. She turned just in time to see Marceline driving away.
Peter came out of the lounge to check on her, another thing she'd expected. She tried to look a little less exhilarated. "Did you have a good time at the dance?"
"Yes," Bonnie said, looking back to the door, her mind full of green eyes and soft smiles and bass guitars, "I really did."
