Chapter 33 - Phoebe (Originally Published: 18 March 2016)

It was the type of pain that made you want to scream.

Phoebe held her breath, trying anything to keep herself from succumbing to the intense compulsion that quaked through her body. She'd been curled up in a ball, clutching her stomach, for the past few hours. It would pass… at least, she hoped.

The fierce stomach cramps began almost a week earlier, accompanying her other ailments. So far, they had always gone away within an hour, then two, then three. However, they had never been this severe, nor this lengthy. Phoebe could not imagine a physical pain worse than this.

She struggled to open her eyes, desperate to find hope in this dire situation. Marceline was still laying next to her, fast asleep. Even through the twisting of her stomach, she was glad that she had not woken her girlfriend. She was glad that through the struggles, she still had her best friend and lover by her side. For once in her life, she wasn't alone.

Phoebe shut her eyes again, groaning when another wave of pain washed over her. She couldn't understand why she'd suddenly become so ill. Her diet before had been immensely healthy, and no extreme changes had come to her lifestyle until this terrible sickness had consumed her. Now, she barely ate at all, let alone slept. The cogs of her internal clock had suddenly stopped working, causing every day to blur together; she had to rely on Marceline's sleep schedule to know whether or not another day had passed. This was nothing compared to the cramps, and the dizziness, and the worsening anxiety that plagued her—not all at once—but in unsuspecting rushes.

She'd also noticed that she'd become more irritable as of late, snapping at everyone for even the slightest mistakes. The thing she feared the most was that she would one day find herself getting angry at Marceline. Phoebe had seen the way her girlfriend shrank back in fear whenever anyone raised their voice. It was always small actions - clenching her jaw, the shaking of her hands, the way she tensed up ever so slightly when someone exhibited any amount of anger, no matter who it was directed at. Simon was a lovely gentleman, and she had only heard good things from him about Marceline's father, so she knew that the apparent trauma came from that monster, Ash. She didn't think she'd be able to live with herself if she ever hurt her girlfriend as he had.

The familiar feel of calloused fingers brushed the sticky, sweat-drenched strands of Phoebe's hair out of her face. "Are you okay?" Marceline asked, obviously concerned.

"I'm sorry. Did I wake you?" Phoebe forced her eyes to open amidst her suffering. Staring back was her girlfriend, with all the cuts and bruises that she'd sustained from her fight last weekend. "We're a right mess, aren't we?" she said with a forced chuckle.

Marceline was not quite as amused with her joke. Seeing the seriousness of her expression, the smile on Phoebe's face slipped away. Mirth gone from her outward appearance, she placed all her effort into trying to avoid projecting the immense pain she felt. Even though she had not yet discussed the specifics of her illness with the other girl, it was obvious enough that this was becoming a serious matter. Marceline touched her forehead, frowning slightly as Phoebe instinctively leaned in towards the gentle caress. "You're freezing, but you're still sweating like crazy. Maybe we should get you to the hospital."

"That won't be necessary." She tried to sit up, but her stomach refused to allow it. Instead, Phoebe scooted over to nestle herself in her girlfriend's arms. "It's probably nothing more than the flu," she lied. If it were a contagious sickness at all, she would not be spending any of her time with Marceline. However, Phoebe almost never got sick - except for once in nursery school when her one and only friend from then, a sickly boy who had since moved away, infected the entire student body. On top of that, she knew that most contagions were likely to make her sleepy as well, rather than quite the opposite. Whatever this illness was, it wasn't going to give her the strange camaraderie of mutual sufferers. The mystery was hers and hers alone.

Marceline rubbed soothing circles into her back. She was quiet for a long time, and the subsequent air of silence made Phoebe uneasy. "Maybe you should reconsider the school play..."

"I can't." She looked at Marceline, horrified. Phoebe never really cared much for taking part in the school's theatrical productions, but she did them with a sense of duty. No one was as skilled at acting as she was, but more importantly, it was the only thing her father would take time for out of his busy schedule. Without theatre, he would not show the slightest inkling of pride for his own flesh and blood. Maybe he would even be disappointed with his pitiful excuse for a daughter, angry with all the imperfections she had that kept him astray from his dream of what the perfect life should be.

She must have been staring off into space for a time, her pain thrust into the back of her mind, because Marceline shook her arm gently. "Are you okay, Pheebs? I know it's important to you, but I'm more concerned for your health than anything."

"My health will be fine," she said, but the truth of the matter weighed heavily on her. There was just so much for her to deal with. Between keeping herself together for Marceline, the stresses of doing well on stage with the current situation at hand, making her father happy, being the perfect girlfriend and making Marceline happy, and even getting out of bed each day. Phoebe couldn't break down now. Her lover was dealing with so much and she didn't want to upset her, but thinking about letting it slip when she'd been bottling so much up for so long made it difficult not to give in. She was there in Marceline's arms - the single place she had found where she felt safe, accepted, and loved. Phoebe tried to force it back, but she could feel the tears coming before they poured out of her eyes, and an ugly, choked sobbing soon followed. She tried to fight it. Her girlfriend didn't deserve to see her like this; Marceline was still recovering from her own brokenness. Phoebe had to be the strong one, had to carry the weight for both of them… but she just couldn't right now.

Marceline pulled her closer, whispering soft, scattered words. Phoebe didn't really pay attention to what was being said—Marceline wasn't the kind of person who was eloquent in these sorts of situations, or who knew all the right things to say—but the gentle lilt of the sounds conveyed comfort and warmth, and Phoebe felt better just listening to the breathy rhythms being played beside her ear.

She lay there, watching the twilight recede from the world outside of Marceline's bedroom window and the sky open up a palette of new, more vivid colours. The two of them must have been locked in each other's arms for hours. Her girlfriend had drifted off some time ago, but Phoebe could not sleep. She'd stopped crying at least, and her stomach didn't hurt anymore. Numb. She just felt numb.

The school play was in three days. If she could just manage until then, everything else would be okay. Abandoning it now was not an option - she'd been rehearsing for months. Not only that, but an Edan was not a quitter.

Just three more days. Then, everything will be okay.

She hoped.

"Okay, so the goal is to pull the spoon part back and launch the food into the other person's mouth," Finn said, demonstrating with a clean plastic utensil. It was some kind of ritual he and his brother performed to force the other person to eat the foods they weren't too keen on. "I find that if you aim more towards their nose it usually goes in. It just takes some practise."

"Right." Marceline took the spoon from him and tested it by pulling on the shallow bowl at the end. "I wasn't allowed to have a slingshot when I was a kid. This will be interesting."

Jake laughed. "I wouldn't treat it like a slingshot. It doesn't have a lot of power, so you're bound to get food all over the floor with that manner of thinking."

The boys had taken to sitting with them during lunch. Phoebe hadn't minded it so much. Finn was one of the first people that she truly considered a friend. However, it also meant that they'd often be stuck with Aeryn as well… which meant, unfortunately, that Bonnibel was never too far away.

Phoebe turned her attention to the other girl. She and Bongo were seated a bleacher below them, further to the right. Their hands were obscured by their backs, but she guessed that they were examining each other's palms from the movements that were visible to her. Bea sat next to them, not really doing much of anything but clearly enjoying the undemanding and quiet acceptance of the couple.

Something was different about them, Phoebe had noticed; a small, almost undetectable change in Bea's outward projection. Having spent plenty of time with the other person during play rehearsals, it seemed now that there was a certain confident glow that hadn't been there before.

"Marceline, I don't think that yoghurt is such a good idea for your first try." Jake drew her attention back towards them.

Marceline lowered her spoon, the huge glop of yoghurt nearly sliding off. "Don't be a baby. It's good for you. Now open your mouth."

Jake squinted his eyes, trying to shield them from the inevitable failure of this plan while still being able to watch all the action, and opened his mouth as wide as he could. Satisfied with his compliance, Marceline pulled back the yoghurt-filled spoon head and steadied her aim. Finn's eyes were glued to the imminent projectile.

Finally, Marceline let the yoghurt fly. Phoebe couldn't help the smirk that spread across her face when the nutritious missile noisily smacked the side of Jake's mouth - half of it going in, the other half splattering all across his cheek.

"I think that's pretty good for only having sight in one of my eyes. What d'ya reckon?" Marceline handed him a napkin.

In the corner of her eye, Phoebe could see Guy walking over to them. He and Keila had been coming to lunch later and later every day. "Oi, what's this?" When he saw the other side of Jake's face, he laughed - an obnoxious sound that always made her cringe. "You've got a bit on your ear, mate." Reaching over, he wiped it off with his finger and tasted it. "This some kind of game or something?"

"Kind of." Finn took the spoon from Marceline and loaded it with a hefty serving of lentils. "Jake and I get bored a lot. School's easier to deal with when you turn it into a series of games."

"Right then." Guy made a face at Marceline. "You really do look like bloody shit."

"Maybe, but I'm still better off than you," she said instantly, grinning.

"True enough." He looked around at everyone else, clicking his teeth as he thought. "Mind if I talk to you alone about something?"

Marceline looked to Phoebe, as if to ask if it would be okay, if she would be okay. "Go ahead. I'll still be here when you're done," Phoebe assured her, and with her blessing, Marceline followed Guy to the other side of the gymnasium.

"I guess you're stuck with me," Keila said, sitting down beside her.

Phoebe pursed her lips. "I suppose so."

Keila had recently learned to tolerate her new presence in their friend group. The two of them weren't friends, per se, but they'd come to a mutual respect - or so Phoebe thought. What she was beginning to learn about Marceline's best friend was that the other girl was very hot and cold; she'd gone from hating Phoebe, to possibly liking her, to remaining stagnant in this weird limbo of mixed feelings. She was used to it, of course. Being president of the drama club resulted in her being acquainted with some of the pettiest, most two-faced people she'd ever had the displeasure of meeting. Although, to be fair she'd also met some of the nicest. It was just unsettling to see the change in Keila's actions. Perhaps it was her closeness to Marceline that warranted the slight emotional disturbance.

"Would you like to try, Phoebe?" Jake asked, drawing her out of her trance-like state. Both of the Mertens brothers were watching her intently. "It's really fun."

"No, thank you. It's not really pertinent to my interests." She offered a smile, glad to at least be involved. "Perhaps Keila would be more interested?"

When Keila agreed, the boys perked up at the idea of incorporating a new player to their strange pastime. They gladly explained to her everything she needed to know about the complex art of launching food through the air, as well as their nonsensical scoring system. Phoebe had already heard it when they taught Marceline, so the words dwindled into background noise in the far reaches of her mind.

Her eyes kept drifting back to Bonnie and Bongo. Her subconscious, a beacon of light that drew one's attention towards the dangers surrounding them.

Phoebe had admittedly been bothered that Marceline had called Bonnie into the office to speak on her behalf. She later justified it as knowing Earle would not call for Phoebe, being aware that the two of them knew each other somehow, but that didn't ease the nagging in the back of her mind. There was no real reason for her to worry - Bonnie had a boyfriend, and even if she and Bongo were not together, the other girl appeared to be strictly heterosexual.

Phoebe closed her eyes for a moment, her vision suddenly blurring. Why did this keep happening to her? Was it stress? Was it her anxiety? A smattering of other reasons that coupled together to create an incurable illness?

She heard her girlfriend's voice approaching, and immediately put on the façade of wellness. Her vision had cleared up a little, and if she sat completely motionless the dizziness mostly subsided. Marceline returned to her side, waving a wad of money. Right. Guy's birthday party.

Marceline was often asked to purchase alcohol for her friends, as she was the only one of them who could legally obtain the substance. Next to her, Guy and Keila were discussing the best kind of alcohol to get for his party - he apparently hadn't heard that the details of the event had already been planned weeks prior, and Phoebe presumed everyone else was just playing along so he wouldn't find out. Somehow, even the thought of partying made her stomach roil. She couldn't rely on Marceline to be her saving grace this time - her girlfriend had invested herself into the debate as well - so Phoebe distanced herself from the conversation, crawling back to the numb blankness that cradled her with its cold, unforgiving arms.

Phoebe set her bag down next to the desk she was assigned in history class. The Bauers girl had yet to arrive, which was surprising enough - Bonnie was always much earlier than she. Her neighbouring classmate was the last thing she wanted to concern herself with, but it instilled a sense of panic within her. Perhaps seeing Bonnie and Marceline in Principal Earle's office together had affected her more than she'd like to admit, bringing about waves of unsettling tremors. Deep down, she feared that the two of them would meet between classes once Phoebe had left, separating her from their interactions. The thought of them seeing each other privately made her physically weak, more susceptible to the ailments controlling her body. Thinking about it now only made her feel ill again, and regardless of her dubious detective work, there were other, more pressing matters at hand.

For instance, the girl seated directly behind her who had been boring holes into the back of her head since their friendship was terminated. If, of course, their relationship could have been called any name that signified companionship. In reality, Phoebe had never known any sort of camaraderie since her childhood best friend had moved away. Everyone who had tried to get close to her since then, she'd shut out, knowing that surely their interest was only in her image. And, if they had been as sincere as her old friend, then they would only abandon her like he had. It made her feel disgusting and used just to think about it. As a result, she'd been a lonely child. In time, she'd come to embrace being an outcast, relatively happy to be able to pursue her own goals while being removed from the complications of drama… that is, until high school. That was when Leslie had come along, and although her new friend had used her as she had always feared would happen, Phoebe found her own benefit in the situation.

She licked her lips. The medication that Leslie provided her with had been a huge part of her life for the last several years. It would be a lie to say that she did not still desire the physical and mental numbness she'd grown so accustomed to. Even knowing it was no way to live, she preferred it to her anxieties, her irrational thoughts, and to the aches and pains now constantly ravaging her body. Still, Marceline had demanded she quit, and so she had.

The soft grumbling behind her prompted her to think of what kind of barbs to sling to fend herself from Leslie's intense gaze. It had been common practise in those old days for the other girl to berate her on the things she was self-conscious about, so she sunk down to Leslie's level, settling into her new throne. "I know my hair is much nicer than yours," Phoebe said, loud enough to address the girl behind her, "but rather than staring at it, perhaps washing will help you achieve a better look."

The boy sitting next to Leslie howled with laughter. She could only imagine the furious scowl that melted the other girl's face into an ugly, drooping caricature. "I do wash, thank you."

Phoebe smirked, happy to hear that she'd pissed off Leslie. "That's right. Your problem is that you have to burn your hair to bits trying to make it look appealing. It's such a shame you don't have naturally pleasant hair like, oh, I don't know." She ran a hand through her own hair, flipping it for effect. The other girl had always been jealous of her for that.

Leslie leaned in close; Phoebe could feel her hot breath ghosting her ear. "You may be laughing now, but I may have seen a certain someone canoodling with your girlfriend outside of the front office the other day. I know you know exactly who I'm talking about, as well. I'd be willing to tell you what I know… under one condition."

Phoebe's stomach sank. She knew more than anyone that Leslie had a habit of embellishing the truth for drama's sake, and it wasn't as though she'd never seen Bonnie and Marceline interacting with each other. They were affectionate, as per their dynamic, but knowing that it had taken place only fed the fire of her worries. "I don't rightly care."

Leslie's smile could be heard in her words. "Oh, but you do. You and I both know that it kills you inside to imagine Marceline with that girl." She shifted in her seat, moving closer so that she could whisper the next part. "You've always been the more observant one. Tell me, do you truly believe that there are no feelings between Marceline and- whatever-her-name-is?"

Phoebe sat up straighter, moving further away from Leslie's prying accusations. "I trust Marceline," is all she said, because anything else would have been a lie.

The ramblings of a student apologising for their tardiness interrupted any further attempts at conversation. Bonnie had finally entered the room, a broad smile playing across her lips. It was the kind of gesture that was familiar among old friends, Phoebe thought. Then again, what did she know of friends?

Bonnie set her bag on the desk, plopping down into the seat next to Phoebe without so much as acknowledging her presence. It was just one of the many little things that irritated her about the other girl.

Bonnie then turned, surprisingly, and smiled at her. "Hi, Phoebe."

Was she hearing things correctly? Her girlfriend's old friend had never sent a genuine smile in her direction, nor had she ever spoken with such ease. Perhaps the girl's predisposition towards her was swept under the blanket of warmth that was surely something anyone felt when they were around Marceline. "Hello, Bonnibel," Phoebe said, sceptical of what this exchange would bring.

Dimples blossomed in Bonnie's cheeks, creating a drought in her throat that only seemed to wilt the sense of security she'd had before. Phoebe felt the cold, inky tendrils of her anxieties resurfacing from the well where she'd drowned them - latching on to her ankles and crawling up her spine. For a moment, she sincerely regretted allowing Marceline to stop her from using the medication she'd been so dependent on. She should have known her demons would return, rearing their ugly heads when she thought she'd escaped them. Phoebe could never be sure if her unmedicated thoughts were logical reasoning or utter nonsense. Either way, they haunted her, preventing her from seeing anything else.

Bonnie was still looking at her, still smiling as if she were in on a secret at Phoebe's expense. "I ran into Marceline in the hallway on my way to class. I was telling her that it would be nice if the two of you came to our New Year's party over holiday break. I know she and Bongo aren't really talking, but everyone else will be there."

"Everyone else?" The confirmation that they had indeed seen each other only moments earlier made her heart beat faster. Although, what bothered her more was that Marceline seemed to be the last of her friends to find out about the party.

Bonnie shrugged. "Bongo and I have been planning the party for a while now. We just haven't really figured out where to host it yet. Guy and Keila can't do it for various reasons, and Finn's parents were all for the idea, except that I don't think there's enough room." She paused. "Also, I don't think Guy's really the kind of person you want to bring around your family. My parents certainly weren't fond of him." She winced, recalling the events of the past weekend.

Phoebe clenched her jaw. Either Bonnie had only mentioned it because she'd run out of potential venues, or she truly wanted to make amends with the other couple. "I could perhaps speak to Daddy about taking his wife somewhere special for the night," she lied.

Her father, without fail, always took time off once Phoebe was out for holiday break. When she was a child, he'd taken the time off to vacation in his home office where he did anything but spend time with his family. It was nothing new to her. As far back as she reached in her memory, she could not think of a time that she had ever seen her father and her biological mother happy together. After their divorce and his remarriage, Phoebe's school-sanctioned holiday breaks were spent completely alone - her father and his new wife went on an annual couple's retreat. That was before she'd started having parties of her own, going through massive amounts of his stored alcohol, which he either never noticed or never cared about.

So, of course, Phoebe had no plans to actually speak to her father on the matter. She merely wanted to make sure that it would be okay with Marceline. After all, Phoebe preferred alone time with her girlfriend to anything else… but if Marceline wanted to spend time with her friends, who was she to prevent that?

"Really?" Bonnie asked, jerking her head back. She came across as shocked rather than trying to be rude or insulting.

Phoebe lifted an eyebrow. "Unless of course you rather I not offer?"

"No, no, no. I'd like that a lot if you can manage it." She drummed her fingers against the desk, eyeing Phoebe. "Could I maybe ask you something kind of random?"

"I suppose."

"Why exactly does Marceline not want to be friends with Bongo? I've heard reasons from him and Keila both, but I figured you would know the actual reason."

Phoebe did know, but not because she'd been informed. "That seems like something that should stay between the two of them. Wouldn't you agree? If it were important, or involved either of us, someone would have said something."

The other girl nodded slowly. "Okay. Yeah. You're right. I'm sorry I asked." She slid her backpack off her desk and into the floor next to her. "Thanks for the offer, by the way."

Phoebe didn't say anything. As far as she was concerned, this conversation was dead.