Robin always liked to point out how busy Marceline was whenever she couldn't hang out. Marceline would then explain that if she wanted to get into Harvard with a scholarship then she needed to do these extra-curricular.
Marceline was an all A student, but any kid with a little bit of self-discipline could do that. Putting stuff on top of it like cheer, Science Club President, National Honors Club Society member and writing for the Hawkins High newspaper would put her miles ahead of other teenagers trying to get into for such a well renowned school.
At the moment, Marceline had a winning smile clear across her face and a few strokes of makeup hastily—but delicately—applied to her face by her teammate, Chrissy.
Chrissy was one of the only cheerleaders that paid Marceline attention outside of their practice. She had a round face and soft makeup that always made her look like she should be in an issue of Seventeen. Her lips were always brought into a heart-warming smile. She wanted the best for her teammates, including Marceline, who she explained that adding a little bit of mascara and eyeshadow would make Marceline not look so tired.
Donnie had lifted Marceline up into the air and she balanced her foot on his entwined hands. She shook her pom-poms enthusiastically for the cheering crowd and the band that filled the gym with school spirit.
Marceline's eyes glanced over to Robin, her fingers flying across the valves. Her chestnut eyes would occasionally flicker to the girl standing beside her, Vickie. Marceline had heard time and time again about Vickie and how pretty her laugh was and the way she looked at Robin every so often.
The cheerleaders finished their performance with a flourish, Marceline thrown into the air before landing in a bed of arms. Then, they ran to sit behind the orange cones by the bleachers as the basketball team was led out.
The team ran out with their hands waving wildly to the crowd and big-headed egos surrounding them. They stood shoulder-to-shoulder on either side of the balloon arch while their captain took center stage.
Jason Carver stood at the microphone with glowing tan skin despite the washed-out lights and his brown hair gleamed like each strang was forged from gold. His smile was a classic Hollywood: so beautiful yet unsettling if you stared too long.
"Good morning Hawkins High!" Jason yelled, feedback resonating through the gym.
The teenagers in the bleachers cheered back at him while the cheerleaders showed their support by waving their pom-poms.
"First off… hey," Jason began, taking the mic from the stand and walked closer to the stands. "I'd like to thank each and every one of you. Without your support, we wouldn't be here. Give yourselves a big hand."
Marceline waved her pom-poms a second time above her head before putting them down again.
Jason was good at rousing a crowd. He could pull off those emotional pitfalls before lifting their spirits higher than before with ease. It got under Marceline's skin. He pulled off popularity well, and it worked for him. People loved him, admired him, wanted to be him, wanted to date him.
Marceline was well-known around the school, but not like Jason. She couldn't call her cheer team her close friends, nor the science club or anyone else other than Robin. They didn't like her because of where she lived, but they liked Jason and his money. She knew that with one slip up Jason would be the one who would swoop the title of valedictorian out from under her.
"And of course, of course, I have to give a shout out to the best and prettiest fans of all time," Jason added. "The Tiger Cheer Squad!"
Marceline forced a smile when Jason's eyes grazed over her, waiting for her to crack.
"Chrissy," Jason said. He stared at Chrissy with so much love and adoration… it made Marceline sick. He patted his chest twice before saying, "Chrissy, I love you, babe."
Beside Marceline, Chrissy kissed her fingers and blew him a kiss. The crowed awwed in response.
If it were Marceline in that situation, she might have just left. Who wanted that much public opinion in their relationship? Not her.
"You know…" Jason continued, taking a few steps back as the smile faded from his face. He bowed his head solemnly, gathering his thoughts before turning his attention to the crowd. "I think I can speak for all of us when I say it's been a tough year for Hawkins. So much loss. And sometimes I wonder, 'how much loss can one community take?' In dark days like this, we need something to believe in. So, last night, when we were down by ten points at half to Christian Academy, I looked at my team, and I said, 'Think of Jack. Think of Melissa. Think of Billy. Think about our heroic police chief, Jim Hopper. Think about every one of our friends who perished in that fire. What did they die for? For us to lose to some… some crap school? No!"
Marceline wanted to gouge her eyes out from this speech. Her hands clenched until her palms hurt around her pom-poms. If anyone caught the glare she was sending toward Jason, they might see the cracks of how she really felt about him.
Those deaths, they didn't die to make their small little crap town stronger. They didn't die so a high school basketball team could put their faith in their names and win a game no one would care about when the next season rolled around. They were dead and buried heroes, their lives not meant to be motivation but a warning of what this place did to people. What it would do to all of them sooner or later.
"'For us to return home with our heads hung low in defeat? No! No. Let's win this game! Let's win this game for them!' And that's exactly what we did!"
The crowd cheered like the speech was the next of the late Martin Luther King Jr's. As if Jason had single-handedly cured the world of every last drop of evil.
But, she couldn't let them know what she thought. She raised to her knees with the other cheerleaders, shaking her pom-poms in the air, and forgot to change her face. Jason's keen eyes scanned over the crowd, pausing on Marceline's and a scowl twitched onto his expression before disappearing behind the mask. Marceline followed suit with a wide grin.
"We embarrassed those candy-asses in their own house, and now tonight, tonight, we're gonna bring home the championship trophy! Let's go!"
Damn, Marceline though, does Jason Carver give me a headache.
"Did you hear all that bullshit? I can't believe he's acting like the tragedy at Starcourt is, in some way, meant to motivate the school for some goddamn basketball game! I mean, how could someone be so insensitive like that?!" Marceline exclaimed, throwing her hands up to release the tension in her muscles. "And I just can't believe he's the one that could beat me out for valed—Robin! Are you even listening to me?!"
Marceline's nostrils flared as she stared at her friend as she put away her trumpet. They stood in the band hall between periods and Robin and had stopped mid-way to stare longingly across the room at Vickie.
"Huh, what?" Robin asked, jaw hanging like the bones had disintegrated. She shook her head, furrowing her brows in annoyance that she'd been called out, and waved her hands at Marceline. "Yeah, I'm listening. I'm listening!"
"What'd I say?" Marceline demanded, folding her arms across her chest.
"Ugh, what is with you guys today!" Robin exclaimed, snapping her trumpet case down and snapping the locks into place. She stood up furiously, screwing her lips together before responding, "You were talking about Eddie—"
"Jason!" Marceline exclaimed.
"Same thing," Robin dismissed.
"Did you hear his speech, or were you just daydreaming of conversations you could be having?" Marceline asked, tapping her sneaker impatiently against the floor.
"Shut up," Robin muttered, turning away from Marceline to the large cubicle where she stored her instrument. She pulled off her band top and replaced it with her jean jacket. "I'm sorry, I just… have a lot on my mind today."
"Right, okay," Marceline scoffed, rolling her eyes.
"What?" Robin asked incredulously, raising her hands. "What do you want me to say?"
"I want you to talk like we're still friends," Marceline said snappishly. "Like you even want to talk to me!"
"What do you mean?" Robin asked, her tone zig-zagging from anger to distraught. Her eyebrows loosened, and her gaze wavered between Marceline and something else. "We are friends. Best friends."
"Not lately," Marceline said, disappointed rather than angry. "We hardly hang out these days. And, anytime I start a conversation, you back out of it… it's like—it's like you don't want me around anymore."
"No, it's not—" Robin started desperately, trying to find the words, but she couldn't. Whatever it was, it was stuck in the back of her throat with no means of escape. "I mean, you're really busy, and I work now and—"
"And Steve's around, and I'm not," Marceline finished for her. She thinned her lips, nodding silently to herself. "I, uh, I have to get to chem. There's a test today…"
Marceline turned on her toes and hunched her shoulders as she sped walked out of the band hall. Robin called after her, but Marceline was around the corner, wondering why this always seemed to happen to her.
Author's Note
Season 4, Episode 1: The Hellfire Club
I added in an additional chapter before the last chapter establishing Marceline's home life! If you haven't read it yet be sure to check it out!
Thank you for reading! Please leave a comment if you'd like. However, this is an all kind of reader safe space. So even if you ghost read or comment every chapter, I hope you know it means the world to me that you've come into this fic I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and until the next one.