Chapter 11 - Bonnie (Originally Published: 16 October 2015)
"Wait, Bonnie! Please!"
She spun around, shoving her finger in Bongo's face. "No!" People were beginning to stare, but she was fed up with caring. "What you did to that poor boy was wrong!"
Even as she turned away he was still following her, begging her to listen to him. Bonnie threw her bag into the backseat of her car and got in, nearly slamming Bongo's hand in the door.
The stubborn boy ran around to the front, placing his hands flat on the bonnet. She started the car as a warning. He was only making her more angry.
"All I'm asking is that you hear my side of the story. Please! If you never want to speak to me again afterwards, that's fine. Just please give me a chance to explain!"
Bonnie rolled down her window. "There's nothing any of you can possibly say to justify yourselves. Get out from in front of me. I won't hesitate to run you over, Bongo Roland. Not after the day I've had."
"Fine! I'll go! Just… I'll be at the park by the train station for the next two hours. If you decide to hear me out, it's neutral ground. If not… Then I'll never bother you again." He threw his hands up in surrender and walked away from her car, letting her finally leave the car park.
The offer didn't tempt her in the slightest. The only thing she wanted right now was to be left alone. Nothing had ever broken her heart more than finding out that the people she trusted, her best friend among them, could be so cruel to such a sweet and innocent person. She felt betrayed. It wasn't even something that happened to her, but she had been humiliated nonetheless. Bonnie had apologised to Jake profusely, but he was right - there was no way she could have known. It's not like Marceline ever told her anything.
Marceline.
Bonnie hated her. She couldn't believe it at first when Finn told her the story, but Bonnie trusted Jake. More than the "best friend" who went for so long without talking to her. The thought of the person she used to know made her eyes burn. She parked her car in the driveway, taking a few moments to calm her breathing before she went inside. When she was sure she would be okay, she shut everything off and grabbed her keys. The metal hurt her hand with how hard she gripped it, but she couldn't seem to relax.
Her keys rattled against the door as she turned the lock. "Bonnibel? Is that you?"
"Mum?" There was a shakiness to her voice, and as soon as she got the greeting out, she was crying.
There was a clatter from the kitchen as her mum dropped something, a pan it sounded like. "Bonnibel, what's wrong?" she asked.
Her mother appeared in the doorway, rushing to Bonnie's side when she saw that something was truly amiss. She put her arms around her daughter and Bonnie clung to her, crying into her shoulder. "There, there, Bunny." She rubbed her back.
Bonnie tried to tell her everything, but it came in-between gasps for air and ugly sobs. None of her words came out clearly, but her mother just held her quietly and patiently until she let it all out. The soothing back rubs her mother gave her made it easier for Bonnie to remember to breathe and slow down.
When she'd cried herself sore, her mum made her a cup of tea and listened as she retold everything. Bonnie had known for several days now. It made her sad at first, but as it stirred inside of her it morphed into an angry storm that lay dormant until Bongo realised why she was ignoring him. Since this morning, he had been trying to talk to her about it every chance he got.
"Marceline's always been a bit of a troublemaker," her mother said after letting everything sink in. She set down her teacup. "You know that. Your father has never liked you hanging out with that girl. He always said that it was a fortunate thing that you were raised by good people, or you might have succumbed to her influence."
Bonnie noticed that she had only said 'your father'. "And what about you?" she asked.
"I always thought that you would be able to turn her around somehow. That if she saw how you acted it would teach her right from wrong."
"And now?"
"What was that quote you like? From Tolkien?"
"Not all those who wander are lost?"
Her mother smiled sweetly, leaving Bonnie to have a think on what she herself had just said.
It's true that Marceline was not the most well-behaved child, but Bonnie stayed by her side through it - urging her by example. It hadn't always worked, Marceline was stubborn, but maybe Bonnie could still save her from this thing she'd become. Part of her still didn't want to believe any of it, and maybe…
Bonnie grabbed her car keys and dashed out to her car, her tea left unfinished. It was ten minutes past the time that she was supposed to meet Bongo in the park, and she hoped he would still be there.
Staying under 80 km/h while trying to rush to be someplace was stressful enough, but there was quite a bit of traffic in town. Bonnie felt restless, anxious. She had to get there before he left.
Bongo was so certain that he had something to say that would at least convince her to forgive him, or give him another chance, or something. More than anything else right now, she wanted that to be the case. There was a small bit of hope that Jake's story might have been flawed in some way, or less terrible than it appeared. He was intoxicated, after all.
When she arrived at the park, Bongo was still there. He was sitting on a bench petting a stray cat. The animal wasn't scared of him, even though his large hands could easily crush it. The cat just crawled into his lap, lifting its head up to direct him to where it wanted to be scratched.
"You're still here." It came out sounding inhospitable, but she was just genuinely surprised.
"I was going to leave, but I've found a friend." Bongo looked up at her. "You're welcome to have a sit."
She did, waiting for him to say something. Bonnie didn't really know how to start this conversation. When they'd last spoken she was angry and hostile, but now she just wanted to hear his side of things; hoping with all hope that there was something missing from Jake's recollection.
Bongo didn't look at her, he only continued to pet the cat, laughing when it licked his hand.
"Well?" Way to not sound like a bitch, Bonnie.
He chewed the inside of his lip, making a visible indent in his cheek where he'd sucked the flesh inwards. Ignoring the cat rubbing against him, he put his hands down and sat on them. There was a kind of sadness in his eyes that made her worry about what he would say.
"Everyone's right about me." An odd start. "I'm not… Good at things. I'm too afraid to stand up for myself and I just let people step all over me. I can't even think for myself. I just do what everyone else expects of me. And that's why I just stood there and watched when Jake got beat up. I'm sorry. I know it's not a good excuse, but I never intended for any of that to happen."
Bonnie could feel the anger churning inside of her all over again. She thought that the story would change, but it didn't. It still happened, and it still made her want to leave. "You protected me," she said, scathingly.
"You were in trouble."
Her eyes narrowed. "Jake was in trouble and you didn't bother trying to save him."
"I've had time to learn from my mistakes, Bonnie. I still feel guilty about what happened. And now that it's come back up I feel even worse." His eyes blinked rapidly, clearing away the sadness pooling in them. "I didn't know that he'd gotten into a lot of trouble for that. None of us did."
"Well, what did you expect? That he'd be awarded and praised?"
Bongo was quiet.
"Who hurt him?"
"It was mostly Guy and Ash. Keila did as well, at first, but… She's a changed person now."
Bonnie studied his face, trying to decide if it was the truth or if he was lying to save himself. There was nothing but sincere grief behind his pale blue eyes.
"You didn't hit him once?"
He held her gaze, displaying himself honestly. "No. I just watched. I know that's not any better, but I swear I never hit him." Finally he broke away, looking at the cat again. "I know you think my friends are bad people, but they're not."
The cat saw something more interesting than listening in on their conversation - a windblown leaf or a skittering bug - and it darted after it, zooming across Bongo's lap like one of the larger felines in its family.
There was still the other question, the reason she'd decided to come after all. "And Marceline?"
When he inhaled, there was a shudder in his breath. A bad memory creeping up, or the wind most like. "You should hear her side of things." He paused. "She's better than me. She tried to stop it."
That took Bonnie by surprise. "Jake remembers seeing her face during the fight."
"Because she was trying to pull Ash off of him. But then he…" Bongo swallowed, taking another long, shaky breath. "They never had the most healthy relationship. I think it was that exact moment when Keila and I both decided to stop letting Ash impact our lives."
Bonnie remembered all the things he'd said about Ash at the party when he'd lost his temper. She could only think of so many scenarios that could complete Bongo's sentence, none of them good. Her heart went out to them. All of them. They'd just been controlled and manipulated by an awful man, it seemed to her.
"It took a lot of courage for you to say all of this to me today, Bongo. Thank you."
"I appreciate you giving me a chance to explain."
Bonnie was ready to go home. She stood, facing him. "If you really want to do the right thing, I suggest you apologise to Jake, not me."
Bongo promised he would and she said goodbye.
When Bonnie returned home, she went to her room to take a nap. She was planning on going to Marceline directly so that they could talk, but that would take more energy than she had right now. She changed into her favourite sweater and pyjama bottoms and crawled into bed, falling asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.
"What's your favourite song on this record?" Bonnie asked, tilting her head back as far as she could to get a glimpse of the girl laying on the floor behind her.
"'Comfortably Numb'. My dad always used to play it in the car when we went to the park."
Bonnie reached behind her for Marceline's hand. When she found it, they locked pinkies. They always did when Marceline got sad. Lately she'd been getting sad a lot. "I think I like 'Hey You' the most."
Marceline nodded, then she started mumbling.
"What's that?"
"Sitting in your bedroom floor, listening to Floyd and Nicks. You make my heart beat like second-hand clock ticks."
Bonnie sat up turning to look at her. "Did you just make that up?"
"Yeah. Sometimes things just pop into my head."
"I like it."
Marceline shook her head, sitting up as well. "It's rubbish."
The door to Bonnie's bedroom opened and her father poked his head in. "Bonnibel, it's time for Marceline to go home."
"Is she not staying with us anymore?"
"No. Simon's here to pick her up."
Bzz… Bzz…
Bonnie groaned, reaching over to grab the phone off her bedside table. She blearily blinked the sleep from her eyes, trying to bring the glowing screen into focus.
Jake Mertens - 1m ago: Bongo was just at my house. He wanted… That kid is so awkward to talk to, man.
Jake Mertens - now: Now that I think about it, I don't remember him much. I know he was there, because I remember his face. But he's more like a ghost in my memory than anything malicious.
Bonnie was proud of Bongo for trying. She was certain Jake understood the message, even if the delivery was a bit strange.
A large shapeless flash of light engulfed the far wall. It was there for only a second. Bonnie rubbed her eyes, unsure if this was still a part of her dream. The light flashed again several more times, and then stopped completely. Bonnie took a deep breath and then slowly got to her feet. Her nerves were so shot right now that she felt out of place in her own bedroom.
Moving to the source of the blinking light, she unlocked the clasps above the window and pulled. So much time had passed since she'd received one of these surprise visits that the window was stuck. With a little more force and a rumbling creak, it opened. Bonnie listened for any hint that the noise may have woken her parents, but it was quiet in the house.
In the light of her bedroom window, she could see Marceline standing there, nervously holding her torch - the same one that she'd had as a kid, with all the stickers Bonnie decorated it with still attached, only faded. Bonnie didn't know what to do. Marceline showing up was such a shock to her that all she could do was stare dumbly.
The girl outside held onto the torch with both hands, staring awkwardly back. She forced a chuckle. "Just like old times, yeah?"
Bonnie chewed her lip. "Yeah. I'll be out in a moment." Usually she would just let Marceline in, but it'd been a weird couple of weeks and she didn't know where they stood. Or where this night would take their friendship.
Grabbing her slippers, she quietly went out the backdoor, meeting Marceline by the window outside.
"I guess we should talk," Marceline said, softly.
Bonnie swallowed. "We should."
"Bongo told me he talked to you. And that you know about Jake." Marceline looked down at her torch, scratching at the edge of one of the faded stickers with her thumbnail. "The whole thing was Ash's idea."
"Marceline, I know it's not your fault." Bonnie hugged herself. It was chilly outside, but more than that, she felt vulnerable. "He told me that it was all Ash and Guy's fault. I'm not surprised in the slightest."
Marceline looked up, her voice dripping with venom. "You leave him the fuck out of this. Guy's not a bad person."
The sudden hostility surprised her. "He hurt Jake!" Bonnie couldn't understand why she was protecting him. He was her friend, sure, but he was unapologetic and mean.
"He's got his own demons he's running from. He doesn't need you judging him."
Bonnie held her tongue. They were going to get nowhere if this continued. "That's not the point. You aren't here to talk about Guy. You're here to talk to me about why you disappeared off the face of the planet for almost six years."
"Am I?"
"Aren't you?"
Marceline glared at her, but then she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "No, you're right… I was just in a really bad place when I was dating Ash. I didn't want you to see me like that. I didn't want you to be disappointed."
"So in not wanting me to be disappointed, you did something that would obviously do exactly that?"
"It was fucking wrong of me to do, Bonnibel. I get it. You don't know what it was like being with Ash. He made me hate myself… and he was the only person I had."
"The only person you had?! What is that supposed to mean?! You had me! You always had me!" Bonnie could tell the words hurt Marceline, but she'd been made to suffer through years of confusing loneliness - surrounded by loved ones, but never the same. "What is so wrong with you that you can abandon me after all those years?!"
Those words were too much, and she wished she could take them back. She regretted saying them the instant they'd left her mouth.
"Fine. Forget it. Forget I ever came here," Marceline said, walking away.
Bonnie couldn't stop the flow of hurtful comments. She wished that she could just shut herself up and apologise, but after bottling everything up for so long it refused to relent. "You're just going to walk away again?! That's typical, Marceline! Just like you always do! You act all hurt that people leave your life, but it's always your fault!"
The other girl stopped, turned around, and walked right up to Bonnie. For a second, she thought Marceline was going to slap her. However, when Bonnie looked into her eyes, instead of the rage she expected to see, there was something else. Pain.
"What do you know about my life?" Marceline said, her voice cracking.
Bonnie threw her arms up. "Nothing! Because you won't ever bloody tell me anything!" Bonnie, stop. Stop now before you say something you're going to regret.
"There's nothing to tell!" Marceline balled her fists in frustration.
"Yeah?! You could have told me about Jake! Or about Ash! Or, I don't know, whatever else you think you're too good to share!"
"I'm gay!" she screamed in Bonnie's face. "Okay?! I like girls! Are you fucking satisfied, Bonnibel?"
Satisfied was not the first word that came to mind. Shocked maybe, but the words that fell out of Bonnie's mouth were, "You're gay?"
"Yes!" She combed a hand through her hair, her fingers seemingly disappearing under a void of thick blackness. "No. I don't know! Bisexual, I guess. But I just- hrmph!"
Her words were cut off when Bonnie threw her arms around her. She buried her face in Marceline's neck, knowing that her friend couldn't bear to look at her right now. "Is that why you quit talking to me?"
Marceline's arms remained at her sides. Bonnie desperately wanted her to hug back, to show her that everything was going to be all right.
"How could you not think I was a freak?"
The words were a harpoon, piercing Bonnie's heart. It was a good thing that they were so close right now, Bonnie thought, because her words only seemed to escape in scratchy whispers. "How could you think that? I don't care about that. I don't care. You're my best friend. I love you." It tightened her throat to say it, but after she did, she couldn't stop. She chanted it, like a broken record, unable to express any of the words she wanted to say in any other way. Her voice became louder, until she was openly weeping. Bonnie clutched onto Marceline's jacket, not wanting to ever let her run away again.
Slowly, carefully, the arms of her friend slid around her. "Even after I pushed you away?"
"You're my best friend. When I saw that you were back, I looked everywhere for you. Even after all those years when I thought you'd forgotten about me," Bonnie felt bad for saying that, but it was the truth. "You're stuck with me," she said, pulling away to look at her.
It was too dark to see fully, but there was a shimmer of something wet on Marceline's face. Bonnie pulled her sleeve over her hand and reached up, clumsily wiping away the tears.
"Ugh- Bonnibel. What the fuck." That made her laugh. Marceline spit to the side. "I'm glad you think this is funny, but I got sweater fuzz in my mouth."
"Promise me something?"
Marceline was still trying to get the fuzz out of her mouth, sticking her tongue out to grab it with her hand. "Whuh?"
"Please don't ever leave me again."
Marceline's figure shifted in the darkness. "What if I do something stupid and you never want to speak to me again?"
"That's not going to happen."
"Okay. Then I promise."
Bonnie smiled, happy to hear the words. "Do you want to come inside for a bit?"
Timidly, Marceline said yes.
Their hands brushed as they walked back towards Bonnie's window, more than once, but the second time she curled her pinkie finger around the other girl's. It was a small gesture of their friendship, but it meant a lot - to her at least.
She let Marceline crawl in through the window and told her to wait there. Bonnie went inside through the door, passing her parents' bedroom on the way to see if they'd stirred at all. When she was certain that they were asleep, she went to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee.
While it was brewing, she crept back to her room. "You can come out here. My parents are asleep." Bonnie leaned against the door frame. "Are you hungry?"
"I'm good, thanks," Marceline said.
The smell of coffee was pleasant, and tantalised their senses as they entered the kitchen.
Opening the cupboard door, Bonnie reached for a couple of mugs for them to use. "Can I ask you something?"
"What?"
Bonnie set the mugs down gently. "Cream?"
Marceline cocked a brow at her. "That's your question?"
"Cheeky. I meant for your coffee."
"Please."
Bonnie grabbed the heavy cream from the refrigerator and set it on the counter, then she took the carafe from the coffee station and filled her own mug.
"What was your question?" Marceline asked, taking the carafe from her.
Bonnie blew at the steam rising from her cup, watching as Marceline put in more cream than coffee. "When did you know you like girls?"
She tensed up, spilling some of the pale liquid on the counter. Before Bonnie could grab her a rag, she wiped it with her sleeve. "I'd rather not answer that."
"That's fine. I was just curious."
Putting the heavy cream back in the refrigerator, Marceline grabbed her mug. "Well, what now?"
"Come on," Bonnie said, walking back to her room. She closed the door, clicking the lock in case her father were to wake up and wonder why Marceline was there.
Bonnie set her mug on the bedside table while she rearranged the pillows on her bed. Then she climbed on and patted the spot beside her.
Passing her mug temporarily to Bonnie, Marceline crawled into bed next to her. She leaned against the wall with a pillow under her back, reaching out for her coffee expectantly. It reminded Bonnie to retrieve her own drink from the bedside.
"I didn't mean what I said out there. About everything being your fault. I'm sorry."
"It's okay. Really. You were just mad," Marceline said.
"We're both bad at handling our tempers, I guess." Bonnie sipped at her scalding hot coffee, thinking for a moment. "So, what kind of girls do you like?"
"What?" Marceline's voice was small, like the squeak of a mouse.
"Like your type." Bonnie laughed. "We're allowed to talk about that right? It's just as if I were to talk to you about boys."
"I don't want to have this conversation."
"Please?"
Marceline rested her head on her hand, looking at her for a long time. "I…" She exhaled deeply. "No, I don't have a type."
"Come on. There's not a single girl you fancy?" Bonnie teased.
Marceline looked away quickly. "I really don't want to talk about this, Bonnibel." She gulped down mouthfuls of her coffee, hiding her face behind the mug.
"You know, eventually you're going to get a girlfriend and she's going to do something you don't like. Then who are you going to talk about it with?"
Marceline rolled her eyes. "I don't plan on being in a relationship anyways. But if I was, I could always just talk to Keila."
"What's wrong with talking to me?"
"It's weird."
Bonnie set her drink down, as well as Marceline's now empty mug. "How is it weird?"
"I literally grew up in the house on the other side of this wall we're leaning against. That would be like talking to Mr. Butler about his sexual conquests."
"I wonder what kind of stuff he's into. It's probably something that no one would ever expect."
"Why are you wondering what that dude likes?" Marceline scrunched her face up, giving Bonnie a disturbed look.
She giggled. "Aren't you at least the slightest bit curious? He's ever so dreary."
"You're only curious because you're interested in having a go at him, I bet."
Bonnie huffed. "You are so mean to me, Marceline."
"What are you going to do about it?"
"I happen to recall that you are obscenely ticklish," Bonnie said, making threatening claws with her hands.
Marceline's eyes went wide, scooting away from her on the bed. "You wouldn't."
"Oh, but I would." Bonnie pounced on her, reaching for all the spots that she remembered were the most ticklish on her childhood friend. Marceline squeaked and laughed, trying her hardest to be quiet so as not to wake Bonnie's parents. She had to give her credit for that.
There were tears in her eyes from laughing so much, and Bonnie was just about to cease her tickle attack when she was suddenly jerked about. Disoriented, Bonnie took a moment to register what had just happened.
Marceline sat on her stomach, pinning her wrists down, panting like she'd just run a marathon. "Don't. Ever. Do that. Again," she said through gasps for air.
Bonnie just stared wide-eyed up at her, still trying to get her brain to work. She'd been flipped onto her back so suddenly that she was experiencing an extreme case of cognitive whiplash.
When Marceline's breathing slowed, she appeared to finally realise what an odd position they were in. She jerked away like she'd been burned, sitting flush against the opposite wall. "I'm sorry. I didn't- I'm sorry."
Bonnie wasn't sure what she was apologising for. She propped herself up on her elbows, her mind still working overtime to catch up to what was going on.
Marceline leapt off the bed and moved across the room. After a brief moment of reflection, she sat on the floor to slip on her shoes. "I should probably be heading back to Keila's anyways," she said, grabbing her jacket.
Bonnie followed her to the window. "No, stay here. Please?" That earned her a pause. "It's too dark to walk. I can drive you home in the morning."
There was another pause. "Okay." Marceline kicked off her shoes again. "But where do I sleep?"
"You can sleep with me, silly," Bonnie said, as if that were the only logical answer. "You liking girls doesn't mean we have to act any differently, does it?"
Marceline sawed her lip back and forth under her teeth. "I guess not."
Bonnie went to her chest of drawers and riffled through them for a moment, pulling out an old grey sweatshirt and plaid pyjama bottoms. "You can wear these. I trust you remember where the bath is?"
"Yeah," Marceline said, taking the clothes from her. She disappeared into the hallway, leaving the door slightly ajar.
Remembering that her friend could never sleep soundly without the gentle sway of music, Bonnie powered on the laptop at her desk and searched through her library of songs. She selected an artist that they had listened to a lot together as kids. Pulling her covers back, she climbed into bed.
When Marceline returned wearing Bonnie's clothes, there was a look of startled recognition on her face. "I love this band," she said.
"I remember. Can you turn off the light?"
She flipped the switch by the door and got into bed, sandwiched between Bonnie and the wall. Scooting further from her, Marceline turned to face away.
"Goodnight."
"Goodnight, Bonnibel."
Before long, the only sounds that filled the room came either from Marceline's gentle snoring or Bonnie's laptop.
So, so you think you can tell… Heaven from hell, blue skies from pain.
Can you tell a green field from a cold steel rail?
A smile from a veil?
Do you think you can tell?
Bonnie was having a hard time getting to sleep. She'd already taken a nap earlier. The music was soothing though, and she was certain that if she lay still for long enough she could convince her body to shut down. Next to her, Marceline shivered.
"Hey?" Bonnie whispered. There was no response.
She was covered, and wearing long sleeves. It must have been a bad dream. Bonnie shifted closer to Marceline, and slid an arm around her stomach.
The shivering stopped, but Bonnie stayed to provide gentle reassurance. Her ear was pressed to Marceline's back, and she could hear her heart beating in a slow, rhythmic pace. The sound soon lulled her to sleep.
…We're just two lost souls swimming in a fishbowl, year after year,
running over the same old ground.
What have we found?
The same old fears…
Wish you were here.
Bonnie awoke to an empty bed. Rubbing her eyes, she stepped into her slippers and went to see if her parents were home. From the window in their bedroom, she could see that neither of their cars were in the driveway. With a yawn, she went to the bathroom to wash her teeth.
When she opened the door, she was greeted with a mess. All of her beauty products had been either knocked into the floor or been moved out of place, and the box of first aid supplies that she kept in her bathroom had been dumped out in the sink. Since when did we have a cat?
Bonnie cleaned up the mess and washed her teeth. There was an odd smell drifting through the air. It smelled… burnt?
Clang!
Alarmed, Bonnie rushed to the source of the noise. It was thankfully not an intruder that she found in the kitchen, but Marceline swearing under her breath. "Is everything okay?"
The other girl was standing at the stove, but turned around when she heard Bonnie's voice. There was flour all over her face and white hand prints dotted her black shirt. "Fine," she said, hiding her hands behind her back.
Bonnie gave her kitchen a long look when the concern for Marceline's well-being was no longer an issue. There were dishes piled up in the sink, a mixing bowl with a thick paste dripping down the side, and flour all over the countertop. A strainer was precariously balanced atop a plate with a questionable black goop coating it.
"What on earth… have you done?"
Marceline scratched her head, rubbing flour into her hair as well. "I made you breakfast. Er… tried to."
Bonnie walked around to the other door leading out from the kitchen and into the dining room. There were two plates set with eggs, pancakes, and beans on toast, as well as two mugs of coffee. Bonnie could tell which one was hers from the distinct colour difference between the liquid in the two mugs. She was speechless.
"I just thought, you know… That I'd do something nice to thank you for putting up with me. I haven't really been the best of friends lately. And I'm s-... Sorry."
"You're the sweetest thing, you know that?" Bonnie said. "What are we waiting for? Let's eat."
Marceline's cheeks ballooned as she blew a breath out. "I don't really think that's a good idea."
"Why not? You went through all this trouble."
"I uh… I don't know how to cook."
"I'm sure it's fine," Bonnie said, pulling a seat back. There was a small cup of water sitting in the centre of the table, with slightly drooping clustered bellflowers sticking out of it. "You really outdid yourself."
Marceline sat across from her. "You think it's too much?"
"It's perfect." Bonnie smiled. "You're perfect. Thank you for all this."
When Marceline said that she didn't know how to cook, she really meant it. The eggs were underdone, with watery sections of whites, and the toast was black and hard. The only thing that wasn't either gooey or burnt were the pancakes, and they tasted like nothing, but Bonnie enjoyed every last bite. Perhaps the sentiment was enough to make up for how truly terrible the cooking itself was. Marceline was a little more apprehensive about her own dish, but she forced it down after critically eyeing each bite.
When they were done, the girls took the plates to the sink to clean. Bonnie had only just noticed the bandage wrapped around Marceline's hand when she set her dishes down.
Gently taking the injured hand, Bonnie turned it up to look at her palm. "What happened?"
"I fucked my hand up climbing the fence into your neighbour's garden."
"Why did you go and do that?"
"I didn't want to mess up your mum's flower beds, so I got those from the neighbour," she said, gesturing to the table with the already wilting flowers.
Bonnie shook her head, smiling to herself. She was going to get an earful about that later from little old Mr. Butler.
"Let's get you cleaned up," she said, dragging Marceline into the bathroom with her.
Bonnie made her sit down on the edge of the bathtub so she could redress the wound. The ugly cut made her a little queasy, but she persevered. She knew that Marceline probably hadn't even properly cleaned it, and she didn't want her to get an infection. It was just like Marceline to get hurt doing something silly and dangerous all for the sake of a smile. Just as it was when they were younger, Bonnie was tasked with the role of playing doctor. It was nostalgic, in a way. After wrapping the cut in a new bandage, Bonnie completed the friendly ritual by putting a kiss on the booboo. "There. All better!"
They spent the rest of the morning cleaning the mess Marceline made. The strainer with the black goop in it turned out to be coffee grounds, so Bonnie showed her how to actually use the machine and they settled down for another pot.
"I come back to school on Monday," Marceline said over their coffee.
"Are you excited?"
"Fuck no."
Bonnie laughed. She always liked the way Marceline's directness made her smile, and she wished the moment didn't have to end. However, her parents would be home again at some point, and they would eventually have to part ways.