Saturday, August 25th
Beep.
What was that noise...
Beep.
The heck...
Beep!
Oh right.
Overdrawing her arm, Bonnie slammed her hand against the desk, missing the alarm and essentially making even more noise than necessary. Slapping and feeling around her bedside table, she hit the correct button.
Beep!
Are you freaking-
Bonnie knew how fidgety her alarm was, yet before going off to college she somehow still convinced herself that it still worked; that just because she was going to be in a new environment meant that it would be different. Plus it would save money, right? Probably not. It was an investment she should have taken. Not because it bothered her too much. But because her roommate was a cranky bitch in the morning.
"Will you shut that thing up? Damn it. Can't a girl get some sleep on her one day off school? Fuck."
Setting aside her sheet, she sat up and pulled the cord from the socket and immediately the beeping ceased.
"Thank God." Her roommate rolled over, swaying the bed the slightest bit, a small creak emitting from the bedframe.
She sighed, changed out of her pj's and proceeded with her morning routine. Brushing her teeth for 2 minutes and timing it, brushing her hair an orderly amount of times depending on how good or bad it looked, and morning coffee with toast. No butter. That makes her a menace, or at least that's what Marceline kept telling her.
The coffee continued to swirl after being mixed with sugar and cream, lots of it. It practically wasn't coffee anymore. That didn't matter to her though, not one bit.
Footsteps were heard from the other room and when she turned she found Marceline wrapped fully in a blanket. Marceline wiped her eyes like a child would and then yawned. Even with how grouchy Marceline was moments prior, Bonnie couldn't help but find the action cute.
"Morning sleepyhead." The pinkette called.
A half glare was sent in her direction which quickly faded into a small smirk.
"I still think that's incredibly weird." Marceline's words were disconnected by yawns and chuckles. "Butter on toast is like a law. Or at least put something on it." She sat next to Bonnie at the table, falling forward into her palms.
"It's better plain." Bonnie insisted, taking a large chunk in her mouth. "Plus, if butter is on it then it tastes weird when I dip it in coffee."
Marceline's hands slipped from her face to show that she was completely shocked, or outraged, or both by that statement.
"You're disgusting. That's not...it's not a fucking donut or biscotti. No one even dunks it in coffee-Ugh, whatever." She stood back up and started preparing breakfast, loudly muttering about how alien-like Bonnie was.
Bonnie just watched her, studying her as she moved across the room. Marceline's habits, like her own, were odd. They weren't quite as orderly as Bonnie's routine-not by a long shot-but different from any other person's. For example: she still tied her shoes the 'bunny ear' way. She would also sleep on the opposite end of the headboard. Subtle things like that.
Maybe Marceline would teach her something she didn't know later if they became friends. Emphasis on if.
Over the past week or so Marceline had been at least civil. The week before that, not so much. Marceline actually smiled sometimes. When she decided to, it was nice. Bonnie hoped she would see more of that.
For now, civility was all she could ask from her. Since she wasn't around half the time anyway, when she snapped it wasn't so bad. Keila probably got onto her about her rude comments, which she found were mostly sarcastic remarks. It eased her nerves to know it was merely making fun, even if her intent was to urk her.
Now all she had to worry about was school and the possibility of a job.
He rubbed the paper thoroughly over and over again with his thumb, squinting, and then whipping the paper around before repeating the cycle.
How could he already have a C in history? It had only been-what, two weeks? So much for being a history major. This had to have been a mistake. He turned in all of his work-or…at least he thought he did. He must have. Garrison wouldn't have let him off so easily. No, he would remember being nagged.
Marshal was outside of his European history class, looking at the paper left on the outside of the door. He ripped it off once he saw the grade. So there was no point in putting it back now.
"So?" The elongated question came. His voice was smooth and calm. There was no question that Garrison received the best grade possible. Yup, the paper says it all. Marshal folded it as neatly as he could and shoved it into his pocket.
"So?" Marshal mocked, hiding behind a wall of lies. He was quite good at that.
"What did you get?"
Marshal shrugged. "83. Not bad I guess." He looked away, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. "What about you?" Garrison looked him up and down suspiciously, but quickly let it go.
"98." He said with a somewhat sour tone, but Marshal already knew his grade. He saw it. "I could have done better." Marshal rolled his eyes and bumped his friends arm heavily, indicating that he was ready to go.
The model Garrison made was an absolutely flawless representation of the Battle of Verdun. Some French war that he probably should have paid more attention to. War with…Prussian? That wasn't the point. It was perfect.
"If you couldn't get a perfect grade on that assignment then I'm sure no one did."
Garrison smiled shyly. "Thanks Marshal."
"Mm." He grunted, looking around the halls, reading the school adds about clubs and organizations that had been posted up on the walls. Come join the Physics club! Frat houses are a great chance to blah blah blah. "Mm, well, are we going back to the dorms?"
"If you want." He shrugged. "I was thinking about heading over to the bookstore. I could always use the company." Garrison invited, using that dashing smile of his.
He was always the social one, the smart one, the inevitably more charming one. And somehow, even though he does have flaws somewhere in his system, they never showed, even at his worst times. Well, unless you upset him in a way that only Marshal knew how.
"Sounds geeky." Marshal yawned, bored at even the thought.
Garrison frowned, his eyebrows knitting in offense. Luckily he was one to let things go. "Alright. I guess I'll meet back up with you for lunch?"
"Yup."
Garrison gave a nod before heading off to the parking lot. Hopefully, he wouldn't get lost. Then again, he was too smart to get lost. Damn him for being so consummate.
Grumbling under his breath, the tall Abadeer turned on his heels and stalked in whatever direction he landed on. North, he thought, toward the campus. It wasn't in the direction of the dorms in any sense. Though he did know exactly who would be on campus at this time. She always was.
Swinging the door open to the music building, he made his way over to Marceline who sat with perfect posture in one of the practice rooms. The end of the violin resting on her neck-oddly-it wasn't a natural pose for her. But he knew, even if it didn't make a lick of sense to him, that it was what musicians had to do. Especially with such an exquisite instrument. (Enter sarcasm here).
He drug a chair obnoxiously against the floor, squeaking and squawking as it may until it reached his sister. With his face resting on the crook of his sister's neck, he grunted something she couldn't exactly make out.
He knew, though he couldn't see, that she had rolled her eyes at some point for his exaggeration. He just knew her that well.
"What now?" She sighed. Letting the instrument fall into her lap.
"I'm bored. Amuse me." It was more of a command than a question, yet she turned to face him.
He gave a small pout that would have worked on literally anyone except her. He knew that, yet insisted on trying regardless. Which was stupid. Then again, he wasn't the smartest in the bunch.
"And how would I do that exactly?" Her eyebrow raised slightly.
"I don't know." He grunted, laying his head back against her shoulder. "Any girl dates with Keila?"
"Nope. I'm free. I'm assuming Garrison was too boring for you already?"
"Book stores aren't my thing."
Marceline smirked, thinking of a joke in her head that she decided not to say aloud. And honestly, it wasn't about Garrison's secret crush on her twin brother. No. It definitely wasn't that.
But, she thought. I can see why he would think so highly of him. Maybe her brother wasn't so logically smart, or street smart. And heck, he was as reckless as they came, but he was a good guy. Douchey at times, but a good guy.
Not to mention the Abadeer blood flowing through his veins gave him some kind of superhuman ability to make any girl fall for him. His physique was sturdy, moderately muscular, Greek God-esk almost, but overall thin and attractive. And that stupid smirk of his, well, it was really their father's smirk that sent girls daydreaming for days.
And there came that smirk of his as the words spilled out of his mouth. "Jam session?"
She rolled her eyes as though the answer was blatantly obvious. "I'll pack up and meet you in five."
Marshall instantly pumped his fist in the air and made his way towards the door, almost tripping in the process.
Again, she rolled her eyes and began to pack up. Yeah, she could see why Garrison kept it to himself. If Marceline didn't do the same, she would have seen right through that façade, but she'd let them figure it out on their own.
Bonnie guessed being dragged to parties would be a reoccurring event over the next year or so. It didn't happen too often, she supposed. It was only once a week on Saturday nights. She usually didn't stay long, an hour at the most. The music was too loud for her liking. Hearing damage and such.
Rain, arm wrapped around Bonnie's shoulder, pulled her along as she strolled down the sidewalk precariously unbalanced. It was almost as if she had taken more than a few drinks of Vodka before they had left. Oh wait, she did.
She giggled loudly in Bonnie's ear. Obnoxiously, she might add.
"Bonnie." She whined. "D-did you know…that…" She paused, stumbling over her own feet. "Whoops." She giggled, falling closer to the pinkette, who avertedly tried not to cringe at the grotesque smell that was coming off of her sorority sister.
"Maybe you should just go to bed to avoid any accidents-"
"Nope!" Rain yelled, almost slipping out of the smaller girl's grip.
Why Rain thought a girl half her size could hold her up, she had no clue.
"I'm not missing a party-especially when I'm not sober. Hey, wait-" Rain stopped, nearly having Bonnie topple over at the sudden lack of motion. "You're going to stay right?"
It wasn't her plan to.
"You know, Marceline is going to be there-" She hiccupped loudly, falling forward. "Right? Maybe drinking a little will loosen the tension between the two of you."
That didn't settle well in her mind. For all she knew, Marceline could be an angry drunk. Though she knew the chance of them actually having any conversation or contact was low, it definitely had an impact on her decision to stay. The night wouldn't be ruined by an accidental argument, she decided.
"I think I'll pass."
That's when the building came into view. It was practically the same sight as it had been weeks before. Lots of drunks. Except this time, it felt a little different. Maybe it was the skunky smell emitting from the students who happened to walk by.
From past experiences, she remembered that smell from an old roommate of hers.
New plan: Drop Rain off and leave.
And that's exactly how it went, or at least the first part. She went inside, the pungent smell getting thicker and thicker by each step. But when she sat Rain down on the couch next to Jake, the moment she turned, she ran straight into Marceline. So much for the low probability of them seeing each other.
She turned around, barely even giving her a scowl, which was odd. With how crowded the building was, the space between them was insignificant.
A smug smile stretched across her thin lips. "I thought you didn't like parties." Marceline half yelled, taking a drink from a can Bonnie didn't know was even in her hand.
"I do." She hollered back. "Just dropping Rain off."
Marceline looked around the pinkette to see Rain having a giggle fit on the couch.
"She's hammered," Marceline noted, watching her movements. "For a stoner, she's a hard drinker." Wait, was she actually making conversation?
"Right." As Marceline's eyes didn't leave Rain, a worried frown glued on her face. Bonnie looked her over. She was taller by a few inches. Cargo pants laid loosely against her waist, a simple band shirt seemed to have the same style of looseness. And to her surprise, the can in hand was just a Mountain Dew.
Marceline finally looked back down at her roommate, cocking her head slightly to the left.
"You're studying me again."
"I am." The rocker shrugged it off and placed her free hand deep in her pocket. After the argument on the first night, Bonnie didn't dare to bring up Marceline's eye color again.
"I'm going to go find Keila." Was her simple reply, evading the conversation completely and walking off.
"Wait," Bonnie grabbed the hem of her shirt, pulling her back lightly. She only received a glare. "There's no one back at the dorms."
"And?"
"And, I don't want to go back alone."
"What, you're wanting an escort?" Her eyebrow raised, more in sarcasm than anything. Bonnie was starting to see more and more of that side of her.
"If you don't mind." The eye contact intensified. After a second she let off and looked in Lady's general direction.
"Fine." Exaggerating her movement, Marceline threw her hand in the air. "Let's find Keila, then we'll get the hell out of here and I'll take you back. But that means I get some free time in the doom, you can study on the porch. No compromises." Without a second thought, she moved forward, hardly leaving a trail for Bonnie to follow.
Trying as she may, the small Bennett was hardly able to keep pace as the rocker weaved in and out of hallways traffic. Which, for a taller girl, she really shouldn't have been able to do.
Finally, after what seemed like the longest search ever conducted, Marceline found Keila sitting outside on the grass with a beer gripped in her hands.
"Keila, let's go." Marceline called. "You got your free beer."
Keila looked up, eyeing Marceline. "Where did you go?" She slurred, pulling at Marceline's pant leg. She took a drink from the can and spilled the contents on herself in the process. "You said you'd be back in a few minutes." She whined, falling back into the fried grass.
For Marceline, an eye roll was in order. "It's not my fault you decided to walk off. Now come on, we need to take Bonnie back to Sigma Kappa."
Keila grunted loudly, rolling her body over, spilling the rest of the beer on the grass. "But I don't want to go back."
"My lord," She tried her best to pick up the more than buzzed Keila and instead accidentally knocked herself over in the process. "Come on, man."
One of Keila's long, slender fingers pressed itself against Marceline's lips in an attempt to quiet her. Instead, she ended up poking her in the eye.
"Damn it, Keila!" Marceline shrieked, standing up. "You know what, fuck it." Gripping her eye, she stood back up, making her way towards the sidewalk. Bonnie wasn't really sure if she should follow her until Marceline snapped at her. "Come on, princess." It came out venomous. Bonnie knew that the anger wasn't pointed at Bonnie, or at least she hoped it wasn't.
Hand's shoved deep into her pockets, her teeth-gritting, Marceline glared at everything in front of her. She had always been an emotional person, so her logic didn't kick in until a while after she went through the facts. One thing she knew though was that she loathed when Keila was drunk. When Keila drank, her personality switched. What used to be her easy-going self, was now a stubborn and melodramatic mess. And with Marceline as her best friend, caretaker, whatever she was, she was now fully responsible for whatever stupidly reckless thing Keila decided to do.
With a sigh, she turned around to glance at Bonnie, who was a good distance behind her. She didn't seem too happy. Neither of them did.
She stopped to let the pinkette catch to with her.
"How's your eye?" Bonnie asked, giving a shy smile.
"It'll be fine. Just stings a little."
Bonnie nodded, continuing to walk down the sidewalk. Her little pink skirt swayed with each step, her hips twisting as if she was on the verge of skipping. This girl seemed to have a hell of a lot of pep in her, Marceline thought.
"What's Cincinnati like?"
Bonnie looked over at Marceline, who's vision was stuck on the vast sky.
"You can't see the stars well here. But that's just big cities for you." Bonnie gave a small laugh under her breath. "It was a lot easier in Ohio, to see the stars I mean. I like it here better though. The weather doesn't fluctuate here, so that's something to account for. "
Marceline gave a quick laugh. "I don't think I'd like Cincinnati then. I like the consistency."
Bonnie smiled gently, her cobalt eyes scanning Marceline over. "Me too."
(So halfway through writing this chapter my internet crashed and deleted everything I had saved, and because of my busy week I barely had time to rewrite it, but I updated, so we're good.)
Review Time!
That1AltGirl: Aw, thank you. I shall keep writing then.
NJFaulkner: I'm so very glad you like it. I...try?
Lecoj03: Yeah, I don't like bitchy Bonnie, because it really doesn't match her actual personality. But yeah, I'm always open to suggestions and ideas so lay 'em out man.
Frikicienta: I'm really glad that you like it, and there's more to come. So thank you!
