Chapter 9 - Bonnie (Originally Published: 2 October 2015)

Bonnie shed her coat, laying it over the back of her desk chair. Finn's birthday party had worn her out, and all she wanted to do was take a long, hot bath. Getting out of the house had been good for her, and she'd had a lot of fun, but she still didn't feel okay. Nothing really felt right since her fight with Marceline - if it could be called that. Really, it was just Bonnie losing her temper and Marceline crumbling under the weight of her accusations.

I wasn't thinking rationally. There's probably a perfectly good explanation behind all of this. If I had just stayed to listen to her side of things… Then I may not have lost the most important person in my life. Again.

That scared her more than anything.

Bonnie unlocked her cell phone. Marceline's dejection glowered back at her in the form of brightly lit text messages that remained unreplied to.

Wednesday, 7:43 PM: Marceline, I'm sorry. Can we talk?

Thursday, 8:17 AM: I know you're still mad at me, but I hope you have a good day.

Yesterday, 3:51 PM: Hey, if you ever need a ride anywhere you can just ask me. We wouldn't even have to talk or anything.

Bonnie sighed. The day before, she had seen Marceline and Phoebe talking in the car park after school. Marceline hadn't spared her a glance, or she would have caught Bonnie staring. Leslie met them outside, and the three of them left together. She must really hate me right now if she chose to ask them instead.

Today, 11:27 PM: I miss you.

After hitting send, Bonnie tossed her phone onto the bed. It was torture when Marceline kept her at a distance, but being ignored completely was a living hell. Even worse was the feeling she got when she saw Phoebe and Marceline together. It wasn't something she knew how to explain, but it bloody well hurt. The sudden buzzing of an incoming call tore her attention away from her thoughts. She scrambled to grab her phone, but the fleeting glimmer of hope she held - that maybe, just maybe it was Marceline - faded completely once she saw the caller id. "Hey Aeryn."

"Bonnie, I need your help." There was a sense of urgency in her voice.

"Of course. What do you need?"

"My parents won't let me out of the house this late. Do you think you could go with Jake? He's freaking out and I don't want him to be alone," Aeryn chattered, wasting no time on pauses or breath.

"Whoa, whoa. Slow down. What's going on?"

"Finn snuck out of the house and Jake's going after him!"

The party. I forgot all about it… Marceline will be there. "Yeah, I'll go with him. Is he coming to pick me up or do I need to meet him somewhere?"

"I'll call him and tell him to come get you. Your house is on the way… Thanks, Bonnie."

Bonnie sat on the edge of her bed. Jake was already driving, so it probably wouldn't take too long for him to get there... She didn't know what to do with herself until then.

Laying back, she stared up at the wavelets in the paint on her ceiling. She tried to imagine pictures in them, but her mind was too busy to allow her to concentrate on the misshapen brushstrokes.

When her phone buzzed again, it was Jake texting her to tell her he was outside. Luckily, both of Bonnie's parents were asleep. Moving quietly, she grabbed her house key from the hook next to the front door and walked out to his car.

Jake gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles turning white as he stared out into the dark street ahead of them. There were tears in his eyes, she could see. Bonnie didn't think it mattered that much to him, but Jake had been acting kind of weird lately.

"I talked to Stanley."

Bonnie fastened her safety belt, waiting patiently for him to continue.

"Finn never went over there. They don't even have a single class together. Stanley said he heard from some other kids that Finn went to a party last weekend. And tonight he snuck out to go to another one."

"I know you care about him, Jake, but it's just a party."

He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. "It's not just a party. I wouldn't care if he went to just a party. It's who he's been hanging out with lately. And now he's at Ash's. That bloody bastard."

"Ash?"

Jake twisted his hands around the steering wheel, as if he were imagining himself wringing someone's neck. "Ash is the most vile person I've ever met," he said through gritted teeth. "Him and his friends. They're bad news, Bonnie."

"Does he go to our school?"

"No, Ash is about twenty-three. He probably dropped out - I know him from a party."

The party. Bonnie and Aeryn had heard about it from Finn, but Jake refused to ever divulge the details about it. With anyone.

Bonnie spent the duration of the ride talking about school and how fun their trip to the city had been, that they should do it again sometime. She knew the memory of the party was not something Jake wanted to relive, but she didn't know how else to ease his mind. He wasn't exactly being talkative, and that just made conversation even harder.

Jake turned the car down a neighbourhood that seemed almost dead aside from their destination. The house they stopped at was in disrepair - everything about the location was in poor condition, from the roof's missing shingles to the cracked stone pathway leading up to the front door.

Bonnie squeezed through the people standing just outside the door and into the house. The "small party," as Marceline had put it, turned out to be a massive gathering of people. She was in the kitchen, and in this room alone there was hardly enough room for her to manoeuvre between everybody. She didn't even think that there were this many people in the small town.

"Finn! Finn! Finn!"

The chanting drew Bonnie's attention into the lounge. At least twice she'd been groped - accidentally, she hoped - and she'd been catcalled multiple times as she tried to squeeze between everyone. Guy Carson held Finn up by his legs as he did a handstand on top of a silver barrel. A hose stuck out of his mouth, and he was drinking down whatever liquid it funnelled in huge gulps. The veins in his neck and forehead protruded grotesquely from the pressure. Eventually, Finn held a hand up and Guy set him down. Finn hadn't noticed her come up behind him, he was more focused on accepting congratulations on the bizarre stunt he'd just pulled.

"Finn, are you drunk?"

"Yes," he said, proud of himself.

"Where's Marceline?"

"I dunno." He squinted at her, then opened his eyes wide. "Wait, what are you doing here?"

"Jake's looking for you."

Finn's face went from flushed to white as a ghost in record time. Before he could even utter another word, his brother had found them.

"We're going home," Jake said, grabbing Finn by the arm. "Come on, Bonnie."

"I'm staying, actually. I'll call Aeryn when I need a ride."

Jake hesitated. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah. I need to find Marceline."

He didn't want to go. She could see it in his eyes that he was conflicted about leaving her there, but Jake had other things on his mind. He had a little brother who, for whatever reason, had worried Jake enough to come back to this place that he hated. "Be safe, Bonnie."

She waved goodbye to them, mouthing an apology to Finn who would no doubt get a mouthful from Jake.

Guy had just been standing there with Finn, but it seemed that as soon as Jake turned up, he vanished into thin air. If Guy was here, surely Keila would be as well, though looking around proved fruitless. All she could see were strange faces.

Someone tapped her on the shoulder. "Oi, poppet. You 'ere alone?"

"I'm looking for my friend." The boy who had approached her looked kind of like a skeleton with his sunken cheeks. Bright green eyes inspected her eerily, unblinking.

"I can help. I know everyone here. Except you," he smiled - a crooked smile that chilled her to the bone. "Billy Lichtenberg," he said, holding his hand out.

Bonnie was disinclined to even tell him her name, but she took his cold hand politely. "Bonnie."

"No last name?"

"Just Bonnie."

He shrugged. "You look like you could use a drink." Billy held his red cup out for her to take.

"Sorry. I don't drink."

"It's a gesture of good faith. At least take it," he smiled.

"Thank you," she said, taking the cup courteously in the hopes that he would leave her alone.

"Stay here. I'm going to go grab another drink and then I'll help you find your friend."

Bonnie didn't want to stay there, but there was no way she was going to find Marceline on her own in this crowd. She leaned against the nearby wall as she waited, hoping to use it as a sort of vantage point to find Marceline or any of her friends.

She lifted her cup, curious to have her first taste of alcohol, but a hand shot out - over her mouth. "Where did you get that?" It was Keila.

Bonnie lowered the drink, and Keila lowered her hand. "Some guy gave it to me."

Keila took the drink from her and dumped it out, directly onto the carpet. "What the hell's wrong with you? Don't ever accept a drink from a guy at a party. Especially not here." Keila's voice was stern and she appeared angry, but then her features softened. "What are you doing here, Bonnie?"

"I'm looking for Marceline. Is she here?"

Keila inhaled deeply, looking away from her. "Let's go somewhere quieter to talk, yeah?"

Bonnie followed her through the kitchen where Keila grabbed them a couple of bottles of beer and into a bedroom, a boy's if she were to judge by the posters of scantily clad women covering the walls.

"This is Pat's room. He won't mind if we borrow it for a bit," Keila said, clearing the bed of all the clothes and drug paraphernalia. "I heard about what happened," she said, sitting down in the middle of the bed.

"I figured as much." Bonnie sat cross legged, facing her and took the bottle that Keila offered.

"You had every right to be upset. Don't feel bad. Marceline just feels really shitty right now, she'll come around."

"I hope you're right. I just needed some time to think. I didn't mean to make her feel that way," Bonnie said, following the design on the bottle with her fingertip.

"I know, honey."

"We only just started talking again. I didn't mean to mess things up."

"I'm going to tell you something, and you can't mention it to Marceline."

Bonnie narrowed her eyes. "Like how you promised not to bring up that I asked about the love bites?"

Keila laughed bitterly. "I'm sorry about that. I was just really upset." She exhaled slowly, gathering her thoughts. "Marceline's terrified of getting close to anyone."

"Bu-"

"Before you say anything, hear me out. Put yourself in her shoes. She lost her father, moved away from everyone she's ever known, and dated a boy who made her question her worth. That's already a lot to deal with, but for Marce - who doesn't know how to cope with feelings - it's overkill."

Bonnie pressed her lips together in a slight frown. "We've been friends since we were toddlers. Why would she have avoided me?"

"Because she's especially terrified of being close to you."

"But why? She knows I would never leave her."

Keila was quiet for a moment. There was a sympathetic look in her eyes. "That's something she's going to have to tell you in her own time. I'm sorry. It's not my place to say."

"There isn't ever going to be a time if I don't get her to forgive me," Bonnie murmured.

"She has. She isn't avoiding you because she can't forgive you. She just can't forgive herself for hurting you."

Bonnie splayed her fingers out before her. Essentially, they were both upset over the same thing - that they'd hurt one another, but it seemed that only Bonnie wanted to fix the situation.

"It's going to be okay." Keila patted her knee. "Now anyways, how about these beers?"

Bonnie nodded, twisting the top off of her bottle. After sipping the bitter liquid, she decided that she kind of liked it.

Keila stared at her, slack-jawed, a bottle opener keychain in her withdrawing hand. "Do that again," she said as she handed Bonnie her beer.

Shrugging, Bonnie opened Keila's bottle just as easily. "Am I not supposed to be able to open it?"

Keila shook her head and shrugged at the same time. "It's one of those hybrid ones that you can open either way, but even Guy has a hard time getting his open."

Bonnie smiled sheepishly. "I play piano. I've heard that strengthens your grip after a few years."

"Really? You should come over and play music with us sometime."

"Okay, sure. That sounds great."

Keila took a swig from her own bottle. "How are you liking it?"

"It's not bad."

She laughed. "You're handling that a lot better than Finn did with his first drink."

Bonnie brought the bottle to her lips again. "What makes you think this is my first drink?"

"Innit? This is certainly your first party if you're so trusting of other people."

"You caught me." Bonnie absentmindedly rotated the bottle in her hands. "Is Marceline even here?"

"She left about an hour ago."

"Oh… That's really the only reason I stayed."

"That's fine." Keila set her drink down on the nightstand. "Let me go find the boys and we'll get you home." She left Bonnie alone in the strange room.

For a while, all she could do was mull over everything that Keila said, but she kept forcing it out of her mind. Marceline would have some answers. Bonnie couldn't just assume what anything meant anymore. She was just going to have to trust her friend, but nothing made sense to her. In fact, after talking about it - things made even less sense than they did before.

Keila was gone for a long time - long enough for Bonnie to finish her drink, as well as the one that Keila left behind.

She was reading the warning label on the second bottle when a boy stumbled into the room, grabbing onto an edge of the chest of drawers for support. Bonnie stood quickly, not wanting to make things awkward by getting caught sitting in a stranger's bed. However, as soon as her feet found the floor her vision went spotty and she nearly fell back onto the bed. She steadied herself, blinking away the spots before addressing the boy. "You must be Pat?"

"Who the fuck are you?" His hair had been shaved into a mohawk, but it lay flat, hanging down between both of his eyes.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to intrude. I'm Bonnie."

He licked his lips. "Bonnie? The Bonnie?"

"Excuse me?"

"I've heard about you." He took a staggering step towards her. "You're Marceline's friend. I have to admit, you're hotter than I expected."

Reaching behind her back, she felt for the beer bottle that she'd sat on the nightstand, and wrapped her hand tightly around the handle. "How do you know Marceline?"

"Let's just say that Marceline and I go way back." He pivoted on his heels, continuously facing her. No matter how she circled the room, he was always blocking her path to the door.

From where she stood, she could see that Bongo had just walked in. The first boy hadn't noticed. He stalked her, following her like prey.

"Get away from her, Ash," Bongo said.

Ash? The name rattled around in her foggy brain, echoing and morphing until it was no longer an abstract familiarity, but the image of Jake. This is that Ash. How does he know Marceline…?

Glancing over his shoulder, Ash scoffed. "Get out of here, man." He turned his attention back to Bonnie. "Where were we?"

Bongo grabbed Ash's shoulder and spun him. The next thing Bonnie heard was a sickening crack, and before she could register what had happened - Ash was sprawled out on the floor, clutching his face and screaming.

Bongo rushed to her side. Pulling his jacket off, he swung it around her shoulders. "Are you okay? He didn't hurt you did he?"

"No. I'm okay," Bonnie said, her heart racing. She clutched at the edges of his jacket, wrapping it around her shaky body.

"Let's get you out of here."

"All right, Roland. You're going to pay for this." Ash was on his feet again, swaying, his hand covering his busted nose. "Wait until I tell Marceline."

Bongo spun on his heel, his voice rising to a volume that Bonnie didn't know the quiet boy was capable of. It frightened her to hear him so enraged. "Marceline? You want to talk about Marceline?! You ruined her fucking life, Ash! How many other girls did you sleep with while you were with her?! How many times did she come crawling back to you because you made her feel like she couldn't be loved by someone else?! You treated her like an object! It's no wonder she has a hard time trusting people, after dating your sorry ass."

Ash opened his mouth to retort, but was met with a brutal headbutt that dropped him unceremoniously back to the floor.

Everything Bongo had just said about Ash was sustenance for the captive beast inside of her, pacing back and forth in its cage, itching to be set free upon this pathetic excuse for a man. Bonnie gathered all her anger and kicked Ash between the legs. Hard. If there was any question of whether or not she had hit her target, the high-pitched squeal of pain told her that her aim was spot on. "Don't you ever go near her again," she growled, baring her teeth.

Bongo wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her away from Ash. "Come on, Bonnie. I think we've worn out our welcome."

Keeping his arm placed protectively around her, Bongo led her through the party. The people standing in front of the door parted when they saw the muscular arms of the giant figure accompanying her.

They didn't get far before the sound of sneakers running on pavement alerted them to the presence of a follower. The pair turned to see who it was, concerned that it might be Ash coming back with a vengeance. They were relieved to see it was just Keila jogging to catch up with them.

"Whoa! What's going on? Is everything okay?"

"I'm taking Bonnie home. Ash wouldn't leave her alone."

"Oh, sweetie… I'm so sorry." Keila hugged her. "I shouldn't have left you alone in there. I'm sorry."

Bonnie lay her head on Keila's shoulder. Alcohol made her fluttery inside, it turned out, because even something as small as a sincere hug made her feel warm and happy all over. "It's okay." She lazily wrapped her arms around the other girl's waist. Keila smelled sweet, and had Bonnie not been tipsy she probably could have stopped herself from burying her face in her friend's perfumed neck and sniffing.

Keila laughed. "Damn, Bonnie. You're a lightweight." She helped her into the car, making sure she was comfortable before shutting the door.

Bonnie waved goodbye to her as the car pulled out of the drive. "I'm tipsy, I think. It just kind of hit me all of a sudden."

Bongo chuckled. "I can see that. Do you want the windows down? It helps me sober up when I've had too much to drink."

The chill of the air that swept over her certainly woke her up at least. Bonnie cupped her hand outside the window; the air sweeping into and over her arm felt amazing. When she saw the signs of civilisation she realised that they were back in town. "What time is it?"

"It's almost three. Why?"

She groaned. "My dad is usually up around this time. His work schedule has him coming and going at crazy hours." It suddenly occurred to her that her father would probably be able to tell that she'd been drinking, and that scared her. He was a strict man, especially when it came to his only daughter. "Do you think you could take me to Marce-... I mean, Aeryn's? I don't want him to suspect anything."

Bongo nodded, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. She called Aeryn to see if she was still up. There was no answer. She called again. And again. And again. Until she finally gave up. They were almost at her house anyways.

When they arrived, Bonnie went around the side of the house and threw a couple of small rocks at the dark upstairs window where Aeryn slept. After five minutes of silence, she returned to the car.

"I guess just take me home," Bonnie said, sitting back down.

Bongo rubbed the nape of his neck, looking away from her. "You can stay at my place if you need to."

"Are you sure?"

He nodded. "I'm not allowed to have guests, but I can sneak you in and out easily enough."

"Thank you so much," she said, instinctively leaning in for a hug. She was, however, trapped by her seat belt and settled for patting him appreciatively on the shoulder instead.

In the quiet car, the ding of an incoming text message made her jump. Bongo paid no heed to the device sitting in his cupholder, focusing instead on the road ahead of them. Bonnie only glanced at it at first, but when she saw the name, it was too tempting not to look.

Marceline Abadeer - now: Is she okay?

Bonnie stared at the words until the screen dimmed and powered off. There was a surge of emotion swirling inside of her - happy that Marceline cared, frustrated that she didn't just text Bonnie, confused, and maybe something else entirely - but she pushed it all down. She forced herself to feel numb.

"Okay, we're here," Bongo said, pressing a button on the transmitter that dangled from his keyring. A big iron gate automatically divided in the middle to let them pass.

Bonnie was aware that the Roland family was incredibly wealthy, but when she saw his home she could not stop her jaw from dropping. She hoped that he hadn't noticed. She didn't want to offend him or anything.

After parking the car, Bongo jumped out and came around to her side to open the door for her. Sneaking in was easy enough. The garage was connected to the house by a second foyer area, and from there all they had to do was take the spiralling staircase upstairs to a long hallway.

"My room's the only one on this end," he told her, opening the door to a chamber that was maybe three times the size of her own.

Bonnie wasn't sure what she expected his room to be like, but it was oddly organised. Cleaner than hers, for sure. She stood next to a drum set, watching as he changed the sheets on the bed.

"You can sleep here. I would leave you alone, but I think my parents would find it odd if I were sleeping in one of the guest rooms." He took the old sheets and balled them up into a makeshift pillow, setting it on the sofa next to his drum set. "Do you need anything?"

"I can take the sofa. This is your house, you should be able to sleep in your own bed."

He shook his head, turning her around by the shoulders. "No. You're my guest. Please." He lay down on the sofa, turning his back to her to show that he would have none of her arguing.

Bonnie crawled into the bed. She'd never spent the night at a boy's house before. It was usually kind of hard to fall asleep in a strange bed anyways - she had always had that problem - but it was Bongo's and he was a boy and… well, kind of cute. Closing her eyes, she waited for sleep to take hold of her. Slowly, the strangely pleasing musk of boy and the warmth of the covers lured her into the sweet embrace of slumber.

Bongo woke her up at around eight. "I wasn't sure if you go to mass or not, but I wanted to wake you in time if you needed to get ready," he said, his voice somehow softer in the morning.

A satisfied groaning sigh came from her throat as she stretched her entire body out, luxuriating in the simple but enjoyable movement. "I'm not religious. My parents are, but they don't care that I don't go. Thank you for being considerate though."

He nodded, looking away from her. "Your shirt."

Bonnie glanced down. Her shirt had risen at some point in her sleep, revealing all of her stomach. "Sorry," she said, as she pulled it down. Sitting up, she rubbed the sleep from her eyes with the heels of her hands. "What about you?"

Bongo rubbed the back of his neck, looking at her with a sheepish smile. "I don't think it's going to matter if I miss one Sunday… Would you maybe like to get breakfast before I take you home?"

"Breakfast sounds great." Bonnie smiled.

Bongo mentioned a restaurant that he'd gone to with Guy and Keila once. It was a forty-five minute drive outside of Whitewater, but Bonnie didn't mind. She had nothing better to do. The restaurant - which sat on the border to the city - was a quaint little building, one that would be easy to miss if you were just passing through. The inside was homely and warm enough for them to feel comfortable. Most restaurants, Bonnie noted, were quite cold inside.

Their waitstaff - a woman, maybe in her mid-thirties, glowing with a reserve of youth - knew Bongo by sight, and didn't bother asking for their order. She simply brought them plates overflowing with delicious food - bacon, sausages, black pudding, scrambled eggs, fried potatoes, beans, both coffee and orange juice for each of them, and a couple of slices of quiche.

"You know, Bartholomew, I expected you to bring Marceline along to come see me. Who's this lovely young lady?" The waitstaff asked.

Bartholomew?

"This is Bonnie," he said, smiling up at her.

"It's nice to meet you, Bonnie. I'm Imani." The woman smiled. She radiated a powerful aura - caring and full of independence, the kind of woman Bonnie wanted to be.

"It's wonderful to meet you as well." When Imani left them to their meal, Bonnie leaned in to whisper, "I hope I didn't give her the wrong idea."

Bongo chewed his food slowly. "How so?" He asked, after swallowing.

"Because you and Marceline are dating." His eyes went wide. "No, it's okay. I promise I won't tell Guy or Keila," she added quickly.

"Bonnie… Marceline and I aren't…" His eyebrows did a show of mimicking a wide variety of emotions. "You don't… That explains a lot… No, Marce and I aren't dating."

"Oh." Bonnie picked up her fork and knife and sliced her quiche into small bite-sized portions. "How does she know Marceline? She's not been here for a while." Bonnie had almost forgotten that Marceline had been around, just not around her, but the sharp pain in her heart reminded her all too well.

"That's Keila's mum."

"Oh!" Bonnie looked at the woman. Keila had inherited Imani's beautiful cloud of dark hair, only her mother wore it pushed back with a headband. Their features were similar, as well as the way they seemed to carry themselves. "Now that you mention it, they do look a lot alike."

Bongo looked up from his plate and shrugged, a slice of bacon hanging out of his mouth. He quickly apologised and pulled off the excess piece, before turning his attention back to the mound of food that lay in front of him.

The delicious meal made the long drive over well worth the wait. It almost even made up for the lull of conversation, but before long she was stuffed and the question of what to say still remained.

Bonnie sipped her coffee gratefully. After sleeping for only four hours, she was going to need it. "So... Bartholomew?" she asked, looking for a reprieve from the awkward teenage social anxiety that plagued them both.

Thankfully, he chewed his food before speaking. Marceline could learn a thing or two about that. "My name's not really Bongo."

"Obviously, I knew you had a real name. I mean, why Bongo? Why not Bart or some other nickname?"

"I'm going to be a famous drummer one day. I guess I just thought it fit." He exuded so much confidence in that statement. For Bongo, it was not "I want to be," but "I will."

Bonnie found herself smiling as he rambled on about music. It reminded her of Marceline, and seeing how much of their heart each of them put into the things they loved was… nice. She caught her bottom lip between her teeth.

Bongo was surprisingly intelligent for someone who slept through all his classes. The two of them talked long after their plates had been cleared away, but when the lunch rush came in they decided it was time for them to get back to their normal lives.

Bonnie's parents weren't home when Bongo parked outside her house.

"Thanks for saving me last night," Bonnie said when he opened the door to let her out.

"No problem. I seem to have a weird habit of walking in on people." Bonnie wanted to ask what he meant, but then he said, "I guess I'll see you at school tomorrow."

"I'll see you." She stood at her front door, not sure what she was waiting for. "You know, you can call me sometime… If you ever want to hang out again."

Bongo paused just outside his car. "Okay. I will. See you later, Bonnie."

She waved goodbye, watching as he drove away.

Her room welcomed her with open arms. Kicking off her shoes, she curled up in a ball on her bed, pulling her jacket over her like a blanket. Only, it wasn't hers. Opening her eyes, she realised she'd completely forgotten to give Bongo back his jacket.

She would worry about getting it back to him in the morning. Right now, she needed sleep.