Bonnie didn't have any idea how her friends had managed to drag her to a party of all places. It had happened in a little bit of a blur; her bedroom door had banged open, Lady and Elle had grabbed her by the arms, Phoebe and Fionna had looked her over to double check that they weren't kidnapping her in pyjamas, and then they'd dragged her out of the room and into Fionna's car. Apparently, she'd just learned to drive, so Bonnie wasn't filled with too much confidence, but they got to the party in one piece and met up with Finn and Jake in the very crowded, very noisy living room of some random person's house.
Bonnie already hated it.
She was standing awkwardly around a table, watching Jake and Lady play Finn and Phoebe at beer pong. She had a cup of her own in her hand, but she hadn't touched it; it was something that Elle had given to her, and Bonnie suspected it contained alcohol. She'd never touched it before and didn't intend on doing it in a place like this. She half trusted her current company, but the sheer number of strangers around her made her extremely wary.
No, Bonnie needed to be aware of her surroundings. Drinking wasn't an option.
"Hey, stranger," Marshall squeezed into the little circle of spectators, "haven't seen you since you completely owned my dad."
"That was two weeks ago," Bonnie said. Marshall smelled like beer and cigarette smoke and his smile was hazy, "hardly a long time."
"Still," Marshall shrugged, and then gave her a little bit of choice information. He leaned in closer, probably due to the volume of the music, and said, "Your future girlfriend is here."
Bonnie kept a straight face. "I don't know who you could possibly be referencing."
"Marceline, duh," Marshall said, and Bonnie's stomach fluttered at the mere mention of her name, "She's here."
"Where?" Bonnie asked, already glancing around the room she was in for the familiar wild mane of hair, "I can't see her."
"She's somewhere," Marshall said, shrugging again, "Probably doing shots with Keila."
So… Marceline was drinking. Bonnie wasn't sure what to do with that information. Frankly, she'd never really thought about Marceline drinking or smoking or doing other things she probably shouldn't. Though they were different, they always felt on the same level of maturity when they spent time together.
When Bonnie thought about it, she wasn't sure if Marceline was more mature or less. She drank, apparently. Bonnie didn't know about smoking, but she didn't suspect that Marceline would do that, not when she valued her singing voice so much. There were studies on how smoking could affect the voice, Bonnie was sure of it. And there was that thing that Keila had said about Marceline's relationship with Ash.
"They're basically just using each other for sex."
Bonnie admittedly felt a little bit inadequate as she remembered that. She'd kissed two people – the first time, not at all by choice, and the other time was merely a favour for her best friend, so neither felt like they counted – and she felt wildly inexperienced compared to Marceline. Maybe that was why Marceline more than likely didn't like her back. Bonnie rarely felt immature, but she did when she thought about that.
She sighed. "I'll find her later, maybe. Do you want this?"
She held out the cup that was in her hand – she'd laughed when she'd realised it was a red solo cup and that wasn't just a thing from movies – and Marshall took it with a smile. "Thanks."
She turned her attention back to the beer pong table. Finn was swaying as he stood and when he threw the ball, it bounced off the table and rolled onto the floor. Phoebe laughed at him, "You're so bad at this. Bonnie, wanna be my new partner after this? You could probably science the ball in the cup with your mind."
"No way," Bonnie said, and Elle rolled her eyes from the other side of the table. Usually, Bonnie wouldn't rise to it, but she asked. "What? I don't want to."
"You've got to live a little, Bonnibel," Elle said, again with a little eye roll in there. "Like, geez, no wonder we don't invite you to stuff when you're so boring."
Despite hardly classifying Elle as a friend, Bonnie had to admit that the admission stung. She muttered a goodbye to Marshall, ignored the way Lady called after her, and stomped away, further into the house. Some friends. Of course she'd known. She'd even mentioned it to Finn, and she'd suspected that this little kidnapping was related to that. He probably said something to Jake or Lady.
"I don't need them," She muttered to herself. Bonnie knew that most of them weren't very good friends. Finn, Jake and Lady tended to make the effort, but the novelty had clearly worn off for the others; Elle had barely spoken to her since January aside from snide comments about herself or her friendship with Marceline.
Her real friends were Marceline and Keila and Marshall. She'd known that for a while.
She stomped all the way to the kitchen, Elle's words still replaying in her mind. Sure, maybe Bonnie didn't like mindlessly drinking and partying the night away. Maybe her idea of fun was watching a movie or going bowling or out for a nice dinner. Didn't mean she was boring. People were built differently, and others should respect that.
She jumped when a male voice yelled, "Salt! Tequila! Lime!" and spun around to see the burly drummer from Marceline's band, then the sandy-haired keyboardist, then Keila, then Marceline, just as they threw back tequila shots and quickly sucked on a wedge of lime each.
Marceline was laughing at the scrunched-up expression on Keila's face when she noticed her. "Bonnie? Okay, I'm either way drunker than I thought I was, or I'm hallucinating."
"Bonnie!" Keila exclaimed, running over to pull her in for a hug, "Hey, you're here! That's cool! Want a shot?"
"No thanks, Keila," Bonnie said, hugging her back. She knew that she wasn't offering in a you're boring, do this way. She met Marceline's gaze and added, "I was actually hoping for a lift back to my house, but since I just saw you take a shot, maybe not."
Marceline smiled sheepishly. Her pupils were dilated, but she didn't look drunk. "Yeah. Third one, actually. And we might've pregamed a little."
"It was fun, tipsy band practice!" Keila grinned, and she definitely looked drunk. She finally peeled herself off of Bonnie and started pouring more shots. "Well, it was more like drunk band practice for me. I forgot how to play D#/F. Like, what kind of idiot forgets how to play that? Anyway…"
She paused to take another shot and Marceline laughed, "She's kind of a lightweight. Anyway, what are you doing here?"
"So-called friends dragged me here and then decided to call me boring when I didn't want to play beer pong," Bonnie shrugged, "like I even wanted to come."
"Dude, there's beer pong?" The big drummer guy asked, and when she nodded, he grabbed the keyboardist – who was leering at her rather obviously – and dragged him into one of the other rooms.
"We should play, Marce," Keila suggested, "You know we'd smoke 'em. Dream team, you and me."
Marceline snorted, "Yeah, you can barely stand up straight."
"I can't do a lot of things straight," Keila retorted, poking Marceline in the cheek. She broke out into a fit of giggles that caught onto Marceline too. Okay, maybe she is drunk, Bonnie thought. A cute drunk, apparently. "Neither can you, Marce. Someone says straight and you say bye. Get it? Word play. I'm a wordsmith."
Rather than making some kind of sarcastic comment like usual, Marceline just laughed some more and poured herself another shot. "Sure. Sorry about what happened with your friends, Bonnie."
"It's okay, I guess," Bonnie shrugged, letting out a little oh in surprise when Marceline hugged her unexpectedly, "I've known for a while that they weren't the best friends in the world. But you are, so…"
"Best friend hug!" Keila joined in and wrapped her arms around the two of them. "I can feel the power of friendship right now. Oh my god, on Halloween, we should totally costume co-ordinate and be the PowerPuff Girls. Marceline's gotta be Buttercup."
Bonnie laughed as she pulled away, and watched Marceline contain her laughter to take the shot she'd poured. "I can actually see that. I'm guessing I'm Blossom?"
"Yeah! Because you got the hair. And the pink-ness." Keila grinned, then pouted and added, "I'm gonna need a blonde wig or something. But at least I've got Bubbles' bubbly personality."
"You're telling me," Marceline snickered, and her gaze flicked away from Keila to something behind her. Bonnie really didn't like her tone when Marceline said, "Well, hello. Keila, look who it is," and looked a guy up and down. He looked older and was practically covered in tattoos, his hair dyed an unnatural blue. Bonnie immediately didn't like him and tried to think of a justification other than the way Marceline was looking at him.
Of course, Keila, being the nicest person on the planet, shouted, "Tom, hey! Want a shot?"
"Sure," the guy, Tom, walked over and stood far too close to Marceline for Bonnie's liking and then looked her up and down like he was eyeing a delicious looking meal. "Marceline. Not still running around with Ash, are you?"
"Nope," Marceline replied, and Bonnie wanted to interject that it was thanks to her, and Tom needed to back the hell up. "I've got better things to do with my time."
Tom smirked, "Oh, yeah?"
And because she couldn't stand to watch that any longer, Bonnie blurted out, "Marceline, do you know where the bathroom is?"
"Uh," Marceline frowned, "upstairs, probably. Want me to-"
"I'll take Bonnie," Keila jumped in and grabbed Bonnie by the arm, and it was the first time Bonnie had ever felt anything negative towards the other girl. "You guys just… catch up."
As Keila dragged Bonnie away towards the stairs, Bonnie couldn't help herself. "What was all that about?"
She didn't want to know, if the answer was going to be what she thought it was. But Keila flashed a mischievous grin and said, "Tom used to work at the music shop, and he was into Marceline, but she was with idiot Ash. On one of her and Ash's breaks they hooked up, but then he got into a really good music college and moved away, and Marceline got back with Ash because she's stupid. Now she's single and ready to mingle and I'm the best friend matchmaker."
Keila didn't know. Bonnie repeated that little mantra in her head, lest she get upset with her. Keila didn't know how Bonnie felt about Marceline, but maybe it was a stupid idea not telling her. She was Marceline's best friend, and if Marceline liked Bonnie back, Keila would know about it. And, Bonnie reminded herself, Keila thinks you're straight. Bonnie knew Marceline wouldn't correct that assumption, not if she thought Bonnie wouldn't be comfortable.
She should say something. She should tell Keila. Keila was drunk, after all, and probably wouldn't remember by the morning, but telling her could stop her little scheme.
But all she managed to say to Keila's explanation was, "Oh. Do you think she's interested?"
"She was before, so…" Keila shrugged as they found the line to the bathroom, "Yeah, probably. She'd be dumb not to be, he's hot. And he's into music, so obviously she's going to be into it. Duh."
"She has a type?" Bonnie frowned in concern. "I didn't think people really had types."
"Uh, yeah, dude, most people do," Keila said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Music is her type. She'd probably marry a guitar if she could. Hah, no, she'd marry her red bass, she loves that thing."
Bonnie tried to brush that comment off. Of course Marceline would be interested in musical people. "Wouldn't that be kind of boring? Not marrying the bass, but dating someone who's exactly the same as you?"
"Eh, she'd go for anyone musical. Except me, anyway. That would be gross." Keila's nose crinkled in disgust. "Even though I'm a musical goddess and all that. She's like my sister. It's like- like you, kinda. Even though you're not musical at all, it wouldn't matter if you were, because you're her friend. But you're not her type, anyway. She said that one time. Anyway, Tom's good."
Bonnie's stomach dropped. Something inside her felt numb. Marceline said that I wasn't her type? But Bonnie was never one to betray her emotions. She bit back the stinging tears and let out a half-hearted laugh. "Hah, yeah. But don't you think Tom is a little too old?"
You're not her type, her brain mocked, you're not her type, and you're supposed to be her friend. Let her be happy with a nice guy. Of course, Bonnie wouldn't be able to bear it if it happened. Not until she got over this stupid, confirmed unrequited crush.
"He looks older than he is, he's only just nineteen, and she turns eighteen in October, so…" Keila said, "he's a really nice guy, and I think he'd be good for her. And they have a lot in common, and he's cute. Am I the best friend ever, or the best friend ever?"
Because she'd only asked where the bathroom was to get Marceline's attention, and she felt uneasy when she remembered Marceline had been left alone with the guy Keila was trying to hook her up with, she said, "this line is a little too long, I think I'm going to go back."
Anything to stop whatever might happen, Bonnie thought to herself, and then heard her conscience mutter, don't be selfish, Bonnibel.
Keila just frowned. "Okay, sure."
She followed her out of the line and back down the stairs, and as they got in sight of the kitchen, Bonnie felt her heart break more than it already had. Really, the pieces that were already shattered just shattered even more.
She saw Marceline just as Tom pulled her in for a kiss, and when Marceline didn't push him away, she knew that any possibility of her liking her back had flown out of the window, despite any tiny lingering hopes. She heard Keila say, "I love being right," but didn't respond, because she was too busy turning on her heel and pushing through the crowds of people she didn't know, wishing that her so called friends had never dragged her to this stupid party. She couldn't even force a smile when she ran into Elle and made her drop her drink all over the skimpy t-shirt she was wearing.
She didn't let herself cry until she was well away from that ridiculous party.
When Tom kissed her, Marceline kissed back. She wasn't thinking it through; her brain was clouded by the tequila shots and it had been so long since someone had kissed her. It felt nice. But nice was the extent of it. There were no butterflies, no spark, no hands tangling in strawberry blonde hair and overly-round glasses getting in the way. She pulled away when his arms wrapped around her waist to pull her closer.
"Wait, no," Marceline stepped back and ran a hand through her hair, "I can't."
"You seemed pretty capable before," Tom flashed that smirk again, but asked, "What's up?"
"I like someone," Marceline admitted, because she owed him the truth, and frankly, if it hadn't been for Bonnie, she would've kept kissing him, "and I don't want to complicate things. With her, or with you."
"Her," He noted, and after a few seconds, came to the obvious conclusion, "the British girl?"
Marceline blamed her blush on the tequila. "Maybe. Maybe not. What's it to you?"
"Judging by the way she was glaring at me for flirting with you…" Tom said, "I think she likes you too."
Marceline wasn't drunk enough to believe that. "Pfft, yeah, right. She's way too good for me. Even my dad likes her, man. Then again, he's not too crazy on the fact that she likes me, so…"
Tom laughed, "So you admit that she likes you?"
"What? Wait, no," Marceline shook her head after realising what she'd said, "I meant as a friend, idiot. She likes me as a friend. Besides, she's already got a crush on someone else."
Tom raised his eyebrows. "Who?"
Marceline made a humming I don't know sound and coupled it with a shrug, "Some chick with a boyfriend. I try not to think about it."
"Did she tell you that when you were still with Ash, by any chance?" Tom questioned, and Marceline didn't have time to think about that because Keila walked – or more like stumbled – over without Bonnie. Tom flashed her a smile. "Hey, Keila. Where's your other friend?"
"She went somewhere," Keila vaguely gestured towards the doorway, "I think she'll be right back. I don't know. She didn't really say anything, she just turned and left… anyway, I saw you two had been catching up…"
She wiggled her eyebrows, and Marceline rolled her eyes, "Not happening, loser."
"Ugh, whatever," Keila retorted, pouring three shots out, "let's have these, and then I'm making you dance with me."
"Actually, I think I'm gonna," She blinked, realising how spinny everything was. Was spinny a word? Probably not. Whatever. "I think I'm gonna try to find Bonnie. See if everything's all good with her. And I think that tequila just hit me."
She reminded herself not to take more shots when the first shots weren't working, because she did it every time and then they always all hit her at once. She probably wouldn't remember, not until next time she was drinking and had already done the exact same thing, but at least she made the mental note.
Keila frowned at her, like she was being an idiot for walking away from a guy who obviously liked her. Maybe she was. "Alright, dude. You want me to come with?"
"Nah, enjoy yourself," Marceline waved her away, "See you. Bye, Tom."
He flashed her a smile, and Marceline wondered if she was stupid for turning him down. She'd been into him before, but then he went away for school, and now there was Bonnie. Sometimes she thought that maybe Bonnie could like her back, but she'd never properly entertained the idea. Mostly because of the aforementioned crush that Bonnie had on someone unavailable and unattainable. Marceline knew that Bonnie believed in her and cared about her and didn't buy into any stupid rumours. But neither did Keila, and that relationship was almost sisterly. But there was what Tom had said. Did she tell you that when you were still with Ash?
Marceline tried to wrack her brain, but she couldn't place it. Bonnie had told her that when they were still texting anonymously. She'd dumped Ash before they'd realised, right? Or was she all wrong? God, she was drunk. She frowned, stumbling slightly. She felt like she'd just stepped off the Tilt-A-Whirl at the fair.
"Keep it together," She told herself as she glanced down the street. Either way could make sense, but Marceline knew that Bonnie would just walk home if she was sick of the party. She chose to turn left and set off down the street, humming the song she'd been working on. Keila had frowned when she heard it because it was too sappy, apparently. "Maybe I'm sappy now. Thanks, Bonnie. Wait, why am I talking to myself?"
She shook her head and cursed the tequila again. She resolved to keep quiet until she found Bonnie, but still found herself humming as she walked down the street. She didn't have to walk for long; she stopped in her tracks a little way away from the local park.
Bonnie was sat on the right swing, with a girl on the other. They were talking, but Marceline couldn't hear what they were saying. She squinted, but from the distance and the way the tequila had impaired her vision, she couldn't figure out who Bonnie was talking to. Naturally, she felt a stab of jealousy, and regretted drinking anything. She wouldn't have, if she'd known Bonnie would be at the party. She really didn't want to embarrass herself around Bonnie, and drunk Marceline had a habit of doing embarrassing things, like that one time she and Keila had spent an entire night doing a Just Dance battle after a bottle of wine each. Plus, she had a feeling that Bonnibel disapproved the whole underage drinking thing.
"Still as prissy and prim as ever, huh, Bonnie? Only difference is I think it's cute now." Marceline asked the open air, letting a small smile settle onto her face. She stepped a little closer, and the other girl turned her head slightly, enough for Marceline to recognise her. "Lady. Good. Now I know you're safe."
Marceline rubbed at her eyes and turned back in the direction of the party. She jumped when she saw someone and nearly fell backwards, but the figure grabbed her by the shoulders to steady her. "Whoa, sorry."
She identified the white bear hat first, then the tufts of blond hair poking out of it, and then the voice, blinking in surprise. Finn stepped back with a sheepish smile and she frowned at him. "What are you doing out here?"
"Uh… following you? Wait, that sounds bad," Finn frowned to himself, but his usual grin was back in seconds. His pupils were dilated and his cheeks were flushed red, and Marceline remembered some vague comment that Bonnie had made about beer pong. He was probably a little bit drunk too. "I saw you leave by yourself and you looked drunk and some people are creeps and do bad things when they see a drunk girl on her own."
"Oh," Marceline said in realisation, "well, thanks, dude."
"No problem," Finn puffed out his chest proudly, "I like helping people. Are you going back to the party?"
"Yeah. Keila wants me to dance with her. I just left to check on Bonnie," Marceline stumbled a little bit, and rationally, she realised she probably shouldn't have walked out alone and in the dark like this. She glanced around, as if Ash was going to pop out of the bushes and jump her. He probably would, knowing him. What a jerk, she thought in passing. "But Bonnie is with Lady, so she's okay."
"I'll walk you back to the party. And it's funny, that you and Bonnie are friends. You're so different," Finn laughed to himself, "you're all dark clothes and ripped jeans and she's all pink and posh."
"Oh my god, she always denies being posh," Marceline rolled her eyes, "bet she lived in Buckingham Palace, sipping on her tea and wearing some fancy dress. She's probably related to the Queen. It makes me laugh when she goes all offended about something and she's like oh, Marceline, that's distasteful. She's so cute."
Those last three words tumbled out without her thinking, but because she was drunk, she didn't really care. Finn laughed. "Something tells me you wouldn't have said that if you weren't really drunk, so I'll forget that. Did you like the ice cream?"
"Yeah, man," Marceline nodded, and when she tripped on a bump in the sidewalk and nearly went flying, he had to catch her again. She laughed loudly. "Oops. And the ice cream was good. Strawberry is my favourite."
"Good, that would've been awkward, if you were like, allergic to strawberries or something," Finn said, raising his voice as he escorted her back inside. The music seemed louder suddenly. He looked around at the sea of people packed into the house and Marceline saw him grin and wave at that big guy, Lady's boyfriend, the one she thought he was related to. "Are you gonna be okay?"
"I'll find Keila," Marceline paused to yawn, looking around the blurry room, "She'll be bouncing around here somewhere. Thanks for walking me back, dude."
"It's okay," Finn smiled and outstretched his fist, "Just looking out for a bro."
She bumped his fist with her own and found she couldn't stifle her grin.
Bonnie was idly swinging on a park swing and wiping at her eyes when someone else sat down next to her. She saw a flash of dyed blonde and frowned. "Lady?"
"Saw you running out of the party," Lady said, and almost to emphasise her suspicions, added, "when Marceline was kissing that guy."
She tried to make it look like she hadn't been crying. "Of course you'd make that connection. I don't want my feelings to become some stupid piece of gossip that you pass between your friends, alright?"
It was snappy, and harsh, but Bonnie was angry. She was angry with everyone, Marceline included. Marceline especially.
"Whoa," Lady held her hands up in defence, "I'm not here to get gossip out of you. I'm here because I saw you run out of the party crying. As your friend, I wanted to make sure you were okay."
Rationally, Bonnie knew that, and she knew that Lady did make the effort, but anger wasn't rational. "Oh, please. None of you are my friends. You only spent time with me because I was new, after that, I got too boring to bother with. I'm done. Done with being second best, done with being left behind, done with people."
She kicked at the ground underneath her swing and squeezed her eyes shut to stop any tears. She wished Peter's stupid job hadn't given him that promotion. She wished she'd never moved here. York was comfortable, and she had Bubba, and school, and that was all she needed. This place wasn't home, and Bonnie couldn't ever see it becoming that. She'd never fit in there. Never be good enough.
"Bonnie, you can't take what Elle said to heart. She's… well, you know what she's like," Lady said, and Bonnie was surprised that she was still there after her rant, "I'll admit, sometimes we didn't invite you to things, but that was because you didn't seem like you wanted to hang out with us. And then you became best buddies with Marceline, and you were always with her and Keila at school during breaks. But you can't sit there and tell me that I don't care about you. Who was the one who called Marceline when you got into your crazy study-trance? Who was the one who went to check up on you when we'd barely heard from you? And I know for a fact that Finn went to see you last week because he missed you."
Bonnie sighed. She had a point. "Fine. Maybe you care. I guess I just miss the friendship that Bubba and I had. He was my best friend, and I was his. He got me, you know? We loved to do the same things, and you'd never have found us at a party drinking. That's not to say that going out drinking is a bad thing in moderation, it was just never my thing. And that makes me feel a little… inadequate, sometimes. Like there's something wrong with me. I think I just want that closeness back, just knowing that there's someone out there who considers you their best friend."
Lady rolled her eyes. "I consider you my best friend. And though I can't exactly confirm, I'm pretty sure Marceline does too."
"Marceline has Keila," Bonnie said, and then because she was feeling exceptionally bitter, she muttered, "and they're welcome to each other. They can run off into the sunset playing all the music they want and being each other's type."
"Okay, so… I'm guessing that's related to you running out of the party," Lady said. Bonnie was incredibly surprised when she followed up with, "You don't have to tell me what went down if you don't want to, but if you do, I'm a pretty good shoulder to cry on. As one of your best friends, obviously."
Lady flashed her a comforting smile, and Bonnie smiled back rather weakly. Then she thought about Marceline again and felt another flash of anger. How was it possible that she wanted to punch her and kiss her at the same time?
"Well… maybe you were right when you thought I might be gay," Bonnie begrudgingly admitted, "and you were right about the crush on the idiot."
"The idiot being Marceline?" Lady questioned, and Bonnie nodded once. "Okay, just gonna pat myself on the back real quick for figuring that one out… and hey, I don't blame you. She's pretty hot in that whole punk rock bad girl way. Told you opposites attract!"
Bonnie rolled her eyes, "I'll walk away right now, you know."
"No, you wouldn't," Lady smiled again, "I can tell you're itching to get it out. So, what happened?"
"According to a drunk Keila, Marceline said I wasn't her type, and then five minutes later, I saw her kissing that boy," Bonnie spat the words out bitterly, "and I just really want to smack her. She… she says flirty, confusing things all the time, and kisses me on the cheek, and she's so sweet with me that it makes me think she could like me back, but now I find out that she just doesn't. That it would be gross. Ugh, I could just throttle her right now."
"Oh," was Lady's only response for a moment, quickly followed by, "I'm really sorry, Bonnie. It's messed up, that she would flirt with you and stuff. Does she know you're gay?"
"She was M, and basically acted like my homosexual guru the entire time we were texting anonymously, so… yes," Bonnie sighed again, taking in the fresh air and trying to clear her head, "I don't think she intends to mess with my head. I think she's just naturally one of those flirty people. Like Elle, but with a bit more grace about her. It's just… sometimes, she smiles at me, and it's like… so soft and reserved and shy, and I've only ever seen her look at me like that. But now I've found all of this out."
"My brain still can't compute Marceline and soft," Lady laughed, "Saying that you're not her type could just be her lying to hide her feelings if she doesn't want anybody to know."
"Why would she lie to Keila?" Bonnie asked, "She's her best friend."
Lady shrugged. "Yeah, but she's also kind of hyper and might just blurt it out to you."
"She knew that Marceline and I were texting each other for months," Bonnie pointed out, "she never let that slip."
"Alright, fair point," Lady frowned in thought, "well, saying someone isn't your type doesn't mean you think they're gross. It just means that they're not someone you'd stereotypically go for. Doesn't mean she wouldn't go for it regardless."
She had to admit that Lady had made at least a little sense, but then she remembered the horrible image in her head and said, "But she kissed that guy. The one Keila was trying to set her up with. And she was definitely checking him out when she saw him." And then she muttered bitterly, "She never checks me out."
"Okay, well… you care about her, right?" Lady asked, and Bonnie nodded, "And you value her friendship?"
Bonnie nodded again, "Where are you going with this?"
"Then maybe you should create a little space. If you really, honestly think she doesn't like you back, then you need to distance yourself until you can get over your crush. Otherwise, you'll just keep hurting yourself." Lady said, and despite how angry Bonnie was with Marceline, she really didn't want to do that. Maybe because spending time with Marceline was the closest thing Bonnie would get to being her girlfriend. Probably why she needed to distance herself, to stop entertaining those delusions. "You can't get over her if you keep spending so much time with her. And if it helps, I actually know a couple of girls I could set you up with."
"I think maybe you're right about distancing, though I don't know how I'm going to manage that when we're supposed to be going to a concert together and spending a weekend in New York next month." Bonnie admitted, despite the pull in her chest, "but no to the setting me up. I'm still traumatised from when Elle tried."
"That was with guys, though," Lady pointed out, "she's already lost there."
Bonnie laughed. "Yeah, I guess so. But I think I need to be over Marceline first. Thanks, though. And thanks for listening. And being a good friend."
"No problem," Lady smiled, "want me to walk you home?"
"Nah, that's okay. You've had something to drink and I wouldn't want you walking all the way back to the party by yourself," Bonnie said, "I think I'll stay here a while. Think. Look at the stars. I'll see you later, okay?"
"Okay," Lady got off her swing and sent Bonnie a stern look. "Remember. Distance."
As her friend walked away, Bonnie nodded to herself. "Distance. I can do distance."
