Tuesday, September 4th
As much as Bonnie had wished her day would start out bright and sunny, she was disappointed to see a gloomy cloud overshadowing the campus. The air, even from inside the dorm, was thick and muggy. Not every day is perfect, she thought with a sigh.
Gathering her belongings, she made her way to the kitchen for a small breakfast only to be greeted by half of the girls in the entire building. All of them were stacked against each other, reaching around one other to find items in the fridge. She even saw Rain reaching over a few girls for a piece of bacon.
Bonnie immediately decided that she would instead grab something at the nearest coffee shop in between classes. Breakfast really wasn't that important. Well, it is the most important meal of the day, but she disregarded that fact and continued to her class.
Tuesday happened to be her favorite day. All of her science classes lined up on Tuesday from nine to about one. Sometimes she would stay after to finish up her experiments in the laboratory. Somehow she was accepted into the honors research program, completing actual studies and doing a variety of experiments. Usually, only exceptional undergraduates were accepted, but she hardly wanted to be categorized like that. She decided to think of it as the college had made an exception for her.
Flinging on a lab coat as she walked in, she grabbed the leftover materials from last week's experiment and took them to her station. Fortunately, her lab partner was already undergoing the usual processes, sterilizing the equipment, adjusting everything in the station, and setting up the graphs and data.
After hearing the sound of footsteps, he glanced up from his work. "Hey Bonnibel," He greeted with a lighthearted smile that fit his round rosy cheeks. "I already started setting up, if you'll grab the-" She then set down the leftover materials. His smile widened. "You're always one step ahead of me, huh?" He selected one of the liquidized materials and placed it on the heating plate.
"Only this far, maybe one day you'll catch up Braco." His smile never left his features, even as he was rechecking his work on the sterilization.
He was over six feet tall with a thin body structure with femininely narrow shoulders barely adequate strength. All she knew from their casual conversation was that he had just started his graduate program. For the life of her, she couldn't remember which field of study he told her that he was pursuing.
"Oh hey, will you do me a favor? While you're out job searching can you take a few eco-friendly patch samples? We're running low." She couldn't remember telling him about her job search.
"Of course, I'm happy to oblige." She gave a faint smile as she talked.
"Thanks. I was planning on collecting the samples after these work hours, but I have a meeting with one of the professors over another study I'm working on."
"I understand," She said taking a moment to collect herself. "I'm already worried for myself on how busy I'll be during grad school. If you ever need any assistance, please feel free to reach out."
He gave a big rosy smile. "I have to admit I'm a little surprised to hear that. Is the genius Bonnibel having a hard time with work-study? As if. That sounds like a good newspaper headline, honestly. You'll breeze right through it. I bet my entire student loan debt on that."
She tried to hide back a giggle, it was somewhat hard to take him seriously. "I'll hold you to it." He had some sense of humor, she had to admit that. She was anything but a genius. Genius' are well collected and completely logical, while for her, emotions still stood in the way of her true potential. One day she would get there, it would just take some time.
No matter how long it would take, Bonnie would make sure she will achieve it.
The room was filled with trills of light laughter and the music came in waves of beautiful melodies and harmonies from both girls, just to be stopped abruptly by another fit of giggles.
Writing songs came easily to Marceline, but as of this moment, her head was foggy and disorganized with unclear lyrics and half-used poems that didn't fit the style. Keila made the mood light-hearted by laughing at the incredulous use of words that sputtered out of Marceline's mouth.
She had to admit, what came out made complete nonsense. When she started to play again and she felt the timing was just right she found herself slip into deeper thoughts she wanted to hold down. So yes, she knew the lyrics were crap, but she loathed talking about her feelings, even with Keila. And they had known each other since middle school.
Bonnie somehow made her this way-blank. Well, that was halfway true. The pinkette was utterly delightful-even playful if the word must be used. Marceline hated that about her, that she was so damn likable.
She recalled something Keila had said earlier that day, "You don't hate her like you keep saying. I can see it in your eyes that you don't mind having her around."
She was right. As much as she wanted to say she hated her, she didn't even want to hate her. No. Something inside of her told her otherwise. That even though Bonnibel was a complete prick at times, a preppy, nosy, analytical ass-she was actually alluring. She was somehow perfect regardless of all those things. Marceline knew that it didn't make sense, but to her, the feeling was quite relaxing.
Not to confuse her with other people Marceline hated, such as Lillian Prince. She, even after the millionth explanation that she didn't want anything to do with her, she never gave up-neither did Bonnie...no no, there was a difference.
Bonnie was caring-and not in a fake way either. She never stopped trying to show she wants to help in any way she could-regardless of the person or their previous actions. On the flip side, Lillian showed she only wanted Marceline for some kind of popularity thing. As if the thought of being with a "badass" would earn her some kind of award.
"Wow." Keila cut off Marceline's thought process.
"What?"
"That wasn't too shabby actually. You should write that down." In all honesty, she couldn't remember what she had sung, but wrote down something similar in it's place. Keila watched her scribble down the lyrics and her lips pursed as she read them over a few times. "I like that better."
Keila picked at her guitar and sang the lyrics in a soothing tone compared to Marceline's roughness. Their voices somehow matched that way, even if Marceline was jacking around with her lower-pitched voice.
"Why don't we take a break?" Marceline recommended, placing her guitar down on her lap even before Keila could reply. "My head just isn't in the game today coach."
Keila rolled her eyes and smiled. "Fine, my fingers hurt anyways. I don't usually play that fast." Marceline barely gave a nod. "So, where's your favorite little nerd? Bonnie's usually here by now."
She didn't know why, but that struck a wrong chord in Marceline. She visibly flinched and her stomach turned-as if she was disgusted. She wasn't, so she didn't know why it hurt so much at the sound of her name.
"I don't know." She muttered.
"Well, has she met Marshall?" Why did that matter?
Marceline shrugged defensively. "How would I know?"
Keila didn't respond to that remark, instead, she glanced at her phone, avoiding eye contact. She knew Marceline's hardheadedness and decided not to fire back as she usually did with their quarrels.
"I'm going to over to Guy's house, wanna come with?"
She shook her head. "Nah, I think I'll work on this song a bit more. I'll definitely be taking you up on your offer later though.
Keila raised an eyebrow but disregarded it quickly. "Have fun. Come by when you're done moping."
"Whatever."
Keila slipped out of the room, carrying her guitar with her. The soft click of the door informed her she was alone yet again.
Garrison supposed he was and had always been a follower in the eye of the entire world. Sure, he made large leaps in technological advances in his generation but not at all in any social aspect. The skills that define him politically. He wasn't necessarily awkward. He just didn't like to talk, unless needed be. No one followed followers.
Maybe that's why he favored following Marshall around. He was a leader socially, not in studies. Yes, his views were somewhat twisted and morally corrupt when it came to who his next victim was...they were victims of his sexually ambiguous ideals...besides the point. Marshall was culturally intellectual, musically intellectual.
On the other hand, Garrison was a math wiz. You would think someone great with patterns and complex notions to be musically inclined too. Quite the contrary actually. He could barely figure out the piano-the basis of all instruments.
"Snap out of it, man." Marshall spoke up from beside him. "That's twice in the last half hour."
Garrison led his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. He wouldn't consider himself the strong silent type-just silent. He just found other people usually didn't have the same mindset as him.
He remembered he was in the library, on the second floor. It was quieter than the first floor, but not too quiet where Marshall couldn't talk. There were fewer people the farther up you went. Much quieter. He studied on the top floor most of the time. No one dared even sneezing if you were up there.
"Sorry, as you were saying?"
Marshall stared for a moment, perplexed, almost testing to see if Garrison had snapped out of his daze. He motioned for him to start.
"Anyways," He continued, almost majestically as if he was telling a heroic tale. "Tomorrow, my house-dinner with the family." It wasn't a question, it was a statement-a command. Garrison narrowed his eyes.
"I wish I could, but I'm driving home this weekend to see my cousins-it's this stupid dinner thing-"
"Skip." Immediately Marshall saw the agitation in his eyes. "Fine, I get it. I'll just bare through another Sunday with my father."
Garrison turned back to his book, scanning over the last paragraph he had read. "Don't guilt-trip me. I've been planning this for a few weeks."
Marshall practically threw his arms over his chest in a fit. "Whatever man," He blew a piece of hair out of his face dramatically-trying to show he didn't care. "I just won't go." His eye flickered to a corner in the room for the slightest second.
The blonde nerd luckily never fell for his childish mood swings. "It's your choice. Don't come crying when consequences start coming your way."
He made a grunting noise in response, opting to ignore his advice completely and turning his attention to a broad in the corner of the library. His eye were fixated on her-searching.
"Talk to her."
Marshall wasn't shy, he was actually very blunt with his feelings. Then it hit Garrison, he recognized that girl. That's right, Marshall had been hooked to her side for quite some time. For what he remembers, Marshall had cheated.
Blonde-average height in basketball shorts and a t-shirt. Tomboy. She was fairly attractive and from the one conversation he had with her, he remembered she wasn't all that classy of a woman, into outdoor activities and martial arts. Marshall's dream girl.
Marshall was yet to be told off, and girls let him walk over them as if they were doormats. Cheating never bothered the girls he dated because they would do the same. He never gave a second thought as long as they came back to him that night. This girl was different. She wouldn't take his crap. Especially not for a second time.
He hesitated.
"I messed up..." He admitted, giving a sad expression.
"Tell her."
Marshall glanced over at her, and she looked away at that exact moment. He knew she missed him, but she wouldn't take him back. Not after everything that happened.
Her clock read 6:30 PM - Marceline stared at her computer screen, writing the notes she had recorded in her class, listening and re-listening. She heard the end of the semester test would be difficult without good note-taking skills. Plus, she figured Bonnie was an avid note-taker anyways. Why she was working so hard on this was a true mystery. She was sure that no matter how hard she worked at revising, that Bonnibel would still find something to revise herself.
By 6:51 PM She was done typing and had already revised 3 times. The lesson was short, yet packed full of information. Still waiting for Bonnie's return.
7:43 PM - She was starting to regret being here, waiting for her. She reverted her time to playing Fallout on her PlayStation. She was stuck and frustrated with her current quest and had begun to give up on her task. Where was Bonnibel?
8:11 PM - She dearly wanted to take up Keila's offer. Keila had even called asking when she would be over and for once, she had to give no direct answer. It was vague and unlike Marceline. Keila obviously knew something was up, but it seemed that she wouldn't mull it over any longer than she already had and instead give up on asking her over.
9:56 PM - Why had she stayed just to give that girl notes? She could have given it to her the next day. Why hadn't she left? Her friends didn't understand why she wasn't coming. They sent her a text and told her they were on their way to come pick her up-even though they had already begun drinking-which she promptly replied with, I promise I'm fine. I'm studying. They didn't believe her, and yet they didn't show up. That was at 9:08.
10:37 PM - Marceline was fast asleep on Bonnie's bed when she had entered. Bonnibel didn't wake her up, deciding to take her place on Marceline's bed after placing an odd tattered stuffed animal next to Marceline. She then covered herself in her sheets and blanket. The same sheets Marceline wrapped herself within every morning before coffee. She realized how Marceline's scent lingered on every article of her belongings. She also realized how that scent happened to be her favorite smell: strawberries.
