"You met someone?" It was an asinine question, but the words squeaked out between Bonnie's reluctant lips. Joss nodded emphatically, auburn locks bouncing, a slightly bashful smile spreading across her face.
"Yeah, I think maybe –"
Bee-beep bi-bip.
"... crap." Joss flipped open her chiming cell phone and read the text message she'd received. "I gotta split. They want me over at the lab. Say ... how 'bout we do dinner again this Wednesday?"
"Uh ..." For a moment, Bonnie nearly refused, preferring to spend the evening sulking alone. Oh, that'd be mature. "Yeah. I don't have any other plans. My place again?"
"Works for me." Joss grinned. "But it's my turn t'cook."
From somewhere, Bonnie managed to find a playful tone. "Promise you're not planning on macaroni and cheese?" She pointed at the pink, gelid mass on Joss's plate.
"Nuh uh." The Montanan shook her head as she pushed back her chair and stood. "I'll make a big ol' pot o' my dad's famous chili. Sound good?"
"Sounds good." The older woman dredged up a smile that was a pale imitation of her shorter companion's expression. "See you then."
Jamming the remainder of the muffin into her mouth, Joss gave a cheerful wave and walked away. Bonnie stared at her own piece of the sweetbread, then dropped it back on her plate. Suddenly, she didn't have any appetite.
You're being ridiculous. She scolded herself. You give a gorgeous young lesbian every reason to think you're straight, then you mope when she meets someone. It's as stupid as when you flipped out about ...
The brunette sat upright, letting her thoughts trail off. A glance at her watch told her she had just over an hour until her next class. It wouldn't yet be dark in Scotland. All she needed was somewhere private to make the call.
The only person who I can talk to about this is the one person who saw the real me, from the moment we met.
Bonnie remembered fighting down a scowl as she'd sat in her last class of the first week of school. She'd been in a particularly frustrated mood. It was bad enough that her father had forced her to leave Upperton Conservatory – wasting the many hours of effort she'd put into climbing the food chain there – but to transfer her here? To the University of Alabama's Huntsville campus? Even the second-rate acting schools looked down their noses at this place. Everyone knew it was strictly for rocket freaks and science geeks.
Not that the school's non-existent reputation for drama studies was the worst of it. Bad enough to send both her sisters into hysterics when they heard, for sure. But the worst of it? Oh no. She couldn't be that lucky. Nor was the worst of it that she was an outsider now: her classmates had spent a year together already. They'd formed their cliques and their bosom friendships, while through no fault of her own, she'd been wasting her efforts in Upperton. That put her at a disadvantage, sure, but there'd never been a friendship she couldn't subvert – except one, a little voice reminded her – nor a clique she couldn't break.
The worst of it, she thought, her scowl slipping through for a moment, is how damn nice they all are. Not fake nice; not 'smile to your face and stab you in the back' nice. They were genuinely nice. They supported each other. They worked together. All the egotism and bitchiness of Upperton Conservatory was absent. How am I supposed to climb to the top of the pyramid if no-one else is willing to build one?
"Rather eerie, isn't it?" A voice had intruded on her internal grumbling. It was smooth and cultured, with the precise diction of English public schooling. Bonnie had flicked her eyes to the left, surprised to see that she'd been joined at her desk. The speaker was a sandy-haired young man with gray eyes and extremely fair skin that had turned slightly pink in the Alabama heat. Despite the climate, he wore neatly pressed slacks and a button-up shirt. Seeing that he'd got her attention, he'd gestured languidly at the rest of the room. "The esprit de corps of our classmates, I mean. I feel quite like I've entered the Twilight Zone."
"Huh?"
"I just meant that I'm not used to seeing such camaraderie amongst my peers." The newcomer had continued. "And I rather think that you're not used to it, either." A pale eyebrow rose in question. "I'm Andrew, by the way. Andrew Haversham. Call me Andy."
The former cheerleader remembered how she'd the stranger over, evaluating his place and value. He had handsome, aquiline features, and the lean but not slender body of someone who exercised regularly, but not compulsively. His clothes, though unsuited for the climate, looked tailored and expensive. Rich, white and good-looking. My father would love him.
"Bonnie Rockwaller." She'd offered her hand, which he'd shaken firmly, but gently. "My last school was a bit more ... competitive than this. I transferred this year. You?"
"Oh, I've been here for two years." Andy had explained. "But I've spent it all in the science and engineering departments. This year, I thought I'd use some electives to spend my time with the beautiful people." He'd gestured vaguely in the direction of Stacy Morgan and Eric Parker. Even now, Bonnie felt a flare of embarrassment that she'd thought he was talking about Stacy. Andy hadn't been wearing a rainbow bracelet and singing Village People tunes, but he'd done just about everything else to give her a clue.
"Is it like this over at NASA Boot Camp?" Bonnie had asked, using the popular slang term for the University's famous science department.
"Definitely not." Andy had flashed his smile for the first time, showing off several thousand dollars' worth of dental artistry. "It's a dog-eat-dog world over there. I have to say, the attitude here makes a nice change. And I think it will help me learn some useful skills."
"Really?" It hadn't been a sentiment Bonnie expected to hear, and her surprise had been obvious. She'd taken his earlier remarks to be mocking her fellow students for their naivety. He'd better not have been mocking me, instead.
"Yes." Andy had nodded. "I mean ... don't get me wrong, I enjoy competition, and the chance to prove myself. And I see the value in teaching people how to push themselves and their work. But once we're in real jobs, we need to be able to work with people, not just compete with them. My family's in the aerospace industry, for instance. If I join the firm, I'll be working on projects that involve dozens of engineers and other specialists. It doesn't matter how good I am as an individual if I can't deliver as part of a team, as well."
"Maybe." Bonnie had been willing to accept his argument ... to a point. "But it's different when you're in an industry that revolves around auditioning for a part. Then you need to sell yourself; not the team."
"That's true." Andy had acknowledged. "But what if, once you have a role, you find out that someone else in the cast isn't up to it? Maybe they got the part because they're related to the producer. If they put in a terrible performance, the whole movie suffers, right?" He'd waited for Bonnie's answering nod, then continued. "So if we learn something here about how to help others, then in the end we're really learning something to help ourselves."
Bonnie had nodded again, more because she'd known it was expected than because she truly believed Andy's argument. Her mind had been occupied with assessing the young man's attributes. From the way he dressed and talked, his family was rich. The accent was good too; made him seem more exotic. Plus he was attractive, as guys went. They'd make a good-looking couple if they were seen together. He even seemed articulate and intelligent. Not sure if that's good or bad, yet. And presumably he was interested in her, or he wouldn't have started the conversation. On the whole, he seemed like a good investment of her time. It certainly wouldn't hurt to be seen with him.
"You've obviously thought about this." She'd given him a teasing grin. "Are you a secret plant by the faculty, or something?"
As hoped, Andy had laughed.
"Just a student, I promise." He'd paused, then asked. "How about we get a coffee after class, or something? I figure a geek like me is going to need all the help he can get in this class, and since neither of us know anyone else ..."
"Sure." Bonnie had smiled, sure the fish was on the hook, though – as she would eventually discover – she was using entirely the wrong bait.
In many ways, Andy Haversham had been Bonnie's idea of the perfect boyfriend. He was wealthy, charming, and impeccably polite. He was also intelligent, with a sly sense of humor and a surprising lack of arrogance. He was handsome, dressed well, and actually had something useful to offer when she asked his opinion on an outfit ... which, in hindsight, should have told her something.
Best of all, at least at first, was his willingness to take it slow on the physical front. It wasn't that he was afraid to touch her: when they were out together he would often take her hand or her arm, and it wasn't long before they hugged whenever they met or parted. He would even, from time to time, give her a chaste but friendly kiss on the cheek or the lips.
And that was where it stopped. Which was not at all how Bonnie expected men to act. Brick had been a sweet guy, but five seconds after they'd start kissing, he'd have his tongue in her mouth, and five seconds after that, he'd be trying to get his hand under her blouse. Andy never did that. He seemed perfectly content to leave things as they were. The irony was, that after years of wishing she could find a boyfriend who wouldn't push her for sex, the brunette had found herself wondering why he didn't want it. Did Andy not find her attractive? Was he planning to leave her?
It wasn't that she'd had any sexual interest in Andy. She loved him like a brother. Or at least, how she imagined a brother was supposed to be loved. Her relationship with her sisters didn't really give her a good frame of reference about that. But it was the fact that she cared for him at all that had made her anxious. If Bonnie was honest with herself; and she always was, no matter how much she might lie to others; she'd always treated her 'friends' in the past as tools or lackeys, not as equals. She'd chosen them because they were less intelligent than her, or not as attractive, or not as wealthy. She'd hand-picked them to be the betas to her Alpha. Even now, six years after she finished high school, the former cheerleader felt guilty about the way she'd cut all contact with Tara when she left for college.
For the first time, she was spending time with someone who was every bit as smart as her, whose family was at least as wealthy as hers, and who – to judge from the admiring glances she'd seen him get – was just as attractive as she was. And she had discovered that she didn't want to lose the affection they shared. And if their relationship ended, so would their friendship, she was sure.
Things came to a head for Bonnie after Andy's father flew in for a visit from the UK. The elder Haversham had rented a beautiful apartment on the Gulf Coast, and Andy and Bonnie had flown down to spend a long weekend with him. To Bonnie's surprise, the apartment had been two-bedroom, and Andy's father clearly expected the younger couple would share a bed. Her own father would have burst a blood vessel if someone had suggested it to him.
Her heart had been pounding and her mouth had been dry as they got ready for bed that night. This is it. She had thought to herself, feeling both relieved and distressed that they had finally got to 'the moment'.
And Andy had kissed her good night, wished her sweet dreams, then rolled away from her and fallen asleep without another word.
Bonnie had been too astonished to say anything at the time, but two days after they got back, she had screwed up her courage and taken a cab over to Andy's apartment. As she walked past the complex's pool, she noticed the various cleaning tools lying around, but thought nothing much of it. Letting herself in with the key Andy had given her, she'd heard noises from the bedroom and walked straight through to speak with her supposed boyfriend.
And then she'd freaked out.
Author's Note: Sorry for the delay between chapters. No excuses, I've just been lazy :-)
A slightly longer chapter than normal, at least for this fic. Despite that, I am trying to keep the back-story of Bonnie and Andy's relationship as brief as possible, since it's not the focus of the fic. I felt it needed to be covered though, since it has a lot to do with Bonnie's transition from someone who hides her insecurity behind arrogance and hostility to someone who hides her insecurity by, well ... hiding.
Whether she can overcome her insecurity ... and the threat of a new woman in Joss's life ... will be the subject of future chapters!