Chapter 42 - Bonnie (Originally Published: 10 June 2016; Rewritten to some degree)
Coming to terms with who she was and her newly acknowledged bisexuality should have been freeing, yet Bonnie only found herself feeling numb. Or, rather, she was forcing herself to feel numb to avoid the ice cold talons of anxiety and despair which otherwise clawed through her chest any time she was awake. Her self-confidence had sunk to the bottom of the barrel at this point, drowning in her feelings for Marceline. Bonnie couldn't fool herself and pretend she was experiencing closure after throwing herself at her childhood friend. She couldn't even mask the void in her chest by pretending things were as they should be. That being said, she had committed herself to doing right by Marceline and Phoebe. She had already done so much wrong to both of them, and those two had certainly been through enough with their lots in life as it was. Far be it from her to wreck something so fragile and precious. They looked so happy together, yet Bonnie knew that both girls were like a lantern fire—burning brightly, eager to live, and burn, and be free, however, that will to thrive was easy to snuff out. Maybe especially so for Phoebe. For what Bonnie had done to her already—for the time at the campsite and for the kiss at her birthday party—she deserved to be the one to burn. She had to face these sins of hers, burn in the retribution of their love.
Bonnie sighed, leaning against the cold concrete wall just outside of the locker room. It was Marceline's turn to shower, which probably meant that Bonnie was going to be late to her next class. That was fine though. Tardiness was a small price to pay to restore their friendship. This pattern of alternating shower times was just one of the rules they'd put in place to help repair things between them. Bonnie had no idea if Phoebe was even aware of their attempts to reconcile. She supposed that because Marceline wanted the two of them to get along, Phoebe had probably been informed of all their rules. She might have even come up with some of them herself, like the two of them not being alone together outside of school again.
Steam was thick and sticky in the air, making Bonnie feel even more suffocated than she would have already been feeling. If Marceline didn't hurry up, she was going to start feeling nauseous. Though, just as Bonnie thought this, she heard the last remaining shower squeak off. There was rustling soon after, and then around the corner came the focal point of her wildest dreams.
"I'm done," Marceline said. She was in a change of clothes, what was left of her hair wet. She gave Bonnie a small smile which lit up her world, though there was always a gnawing feeling in her stomach when they were near each other. At least, only lately.
"You didn't have to wash your hair, you doink." Bonnie tried to joke. She could already feel the apology coming before she could finish getting to her feet. "It's okay," she said, cutting Marceline off. "It's fine, really. I'm just teasing you." She forced a smile, dusting off the bottom of her jeans as they stood awkwardly in the corridor together.
There was a fraught tension between them still. Bonnie felt that they were trying to find each other again, trying to figure out what was okay to say or do in each other's presence. Their friendship had to be rebuilt in order to survive this new hard period between them, its foundations needed to be strengthened to survive the harsh environment of high school and unrequited love. It felt masochistic to say that in spite of all the anxiety and awkwardness between them now, Bonnie was eager to be near Marceline. It was torture to her emotional health, but she'd happily suffer it just to get to the other side of this with her.
The longer they stood there in silence together, the later Bonnie would be to her next class, but it felt wrong to just end things there. "Have you got any plans for the day?" she asked, hoping to prolong this moment spent with her.
"I do, actually." Marceline gave her a half-hearted smile. "It's Phoebe's birthday today. Her actual birthday, that is." The admission seemed to weigh heavily on the both of them. Considering what had transpired between them recently, at Phoebe's birthday party no less—the celebration of her life—it was understandable. Marceline didn't seem to want to dwell on it though, as she changed the subject. "What about you? Are you doing anything after school?"
Bonnie nodded slowly, forcing a wry smile. "Bongo and I have a date tonight." Ever since she had finally acknowledged her deep, dark, secret feelings, she hadn't been excited to hang out with her boyfriend. He was a wonderful person, of course. Bongo was sweet, compassionate, and so terribly shy. He deserved better than her, so it felt wrong to settle for him. It felt wrong because Bonnie was treating him as though he were second best, and being emotionally distant to him as a result. She was happy that of all people Bongo was there to be her rock when she needed it, but she still knew it was wrong to string him along with the implication of mutual feelings.
The heart wants what the heart wants, I suppose, she thought to herself. Even if Bongo is good to me, I can't help but yearn for Marceline.
That yearning was tortuous to her, and unfair to everyone else. What's worse, is that torture, that insane jealousy, twisted in Bonnie's gut like a knife when Marceline smiled back at her.
"I'm glad. He really cares about you, Bonnibel."
Maybe Marceline had mistook her smile for one of genuine complacency, but hearing those words and knowing that Marceline was glad was what had upset her. Maybe Bonnie wanted Marceline to yearn for her, to anguish over their star-crossed entanglement.
As if reading her mind, Marceline continued, her face sombre now, "Listen, I know things are kind of tense since... what happened. I know you're probably feeling fucked up and confused inside... but Bongo's a great guy, and you deserve someone who can treat you right. I'm not that person. I'm just as fucked up and just as confused as you are. I don't know what I'm doing with my life, or what I want from it. But what I do know is that I l-" Marceline took a deep, shaky breath.
"Don't." Bonnie was firm. She already knew. And that sentence had felt like a train barrelling straight for Bonnie in its path until the interruption. The impact would no less hurt the same if said aloud.
Marceline shook her head, maintaining eye contact with her. "I love Phoebe." The admission looked like it had sapped all of her energy, but Bonnie—Bonnie felt like her entire soul had been crushed. She suddenly felt like she was floating, the light-headedness and heaviness of those words all at once hitting her. Marceline continued, "But... I love you too. In more than one way. And I shouldn't even bother being your friend, but I want to. And I want you to want that too. Above anything else." Marceline clenched her jaw, the words up to that point settling in a sour taste in both their mouths. She took another deep breath, and then continued, "I just want to be friends again. I miss you, Bonnibel. So please just try to give him a chance. If nothing else, do it because you owe Phoebe one for how you've treated her."
"I don't know if I can love him how he deserves though," Bonnie mumbled. It was taking every part of her to maintain her composure.
"Then leave him," Marceline snapped. When Bonnie looked at her, surprised, she softened her tone. "I'm sorry. I-" she made a sound of annoyance, probably unable to think of the words she wanted to without pausing, "I think if you give up on the idea of me, you really might fall in love with him. But if you can't even try for his sake, then just leave him. Because he doesn't deserve that either."
Bonnie watched as Marceline walked away, feeling defeated and emotionally drained. "It's not the 'idea' of you," she whispered to herself. "I know you better than anyone else possibly could." She sighed. Suddenly, she didn't feel like taking a shower after gym. She needed all the time she had left before class to steady her composure. I have a lot of thinking to do.
Bonnie exhaled slowly, her heart thumping in her chest. It was highly unlike her to be cutting class right now, but her mind was such a frazzled mess that even if she was in her classroom she'd hardly be present. Then again, her teacher knew where she was. And she had a hall pass to keep her out of trouble. So technically she wasn't skipping class at all, even though she'd left the room about twenty minutes ago. This certainly wasn't the sort of school treason that Finn had gotten in trouble for in the last term, or that Marceline seemed to favour. In spite of that, she was nervous about wandering around the school. Bonnie was what one might call a "good kid," so even though her instructor had given her permission to take as much time as she needed out of the lesson, it didn't suit her to actually take her up on that offer.
She did need this time to be alone though. It seemed that she never got any time to just think anymore. If she wasn't at school or studying, she was with her friends or her boyfriend, or suffering the weight of seeing Marceline and Phoebe together. While Bonnie cherished her friends, her boyfriend, her life—for the most part, anyway—it was suffocating her, bearing down on her with every twisted contradiction her emotions could muster. Especially when she was entangled in this web of conflicting thoughts, unable to escape from the messy life she had earned for herself. It seemed impossible lately to compartmentalise. Should she even remain with Bongo? Should she give up on Marceline? Would it even matter once she left for university? Were these thoughts and desires simply selfishness on her part? Because at the end of the day, the truth was that she was going to an entirely different country, on a different continent, for school at the end of this schoolyear. Could she maintain any relationship with that space between them? Knowing Bongo, he'd be loyal to her. Hell, he might even use that family money of his to follow her. On the other hand, should Bonnie continue to harbour feelings for Marceline, she would just always be paranoid that Phoebe would be in the picture somehow while she was a million miles away. At every angle she looked, Bongo was the right choice for her. But her heart begged to differ, even if logic was right. She had known the answer all along, but still refused to see it because it wasn't the answer she wanted.
Being a teenager, she decided, was fucking hard.
Bonnie found herself wandering towards one of the restrooms after all. It was on the other side of school from her classroom, but she supposed she did actually achieve her goal of going to the toilets. Though, she wasn't seeking it out for its intended use. Rather, she wanted to get a good look at herself in the mirror and see if she even recognised who stood before her. Was she still the same Bonnibel Bauers she had always been? Or had she changed so much over the course of this term that she no longer resembled the girl she thought she'd known? Would she be able to see the effects of her personal life becoming overwhelming on her face in wrinkles or creases?
Bonnie stepped around the partition wall and froze. She could hear quick, out of control breathing. There seemed to only be one person in the restroom, their sobs unhindered. The sound was terribly gruesome, so full of fear and sorrow. Someone was very clearly having a panic attack in the girls' restroom. More specifically, the girls' restroom in the school's arts corridor. Bonnie had some kind of intuition of who it was she heard—maybe because she knew what classes bordered this particular restroom. Why had she ambled over this way? She cursed herself for the way her feet had taken her, but the idea of turning away still didn't come to her. Anyone could be in there, and yet Bonnie felt she knew the singular person that it was out of several hundred students. Somehow... she just knew.
"Phoebe?" she asked quietly, not even having turned the final corner yet.
There was a gasp, and the breathing quickened even more. Intensified panic making itself evident with the occasional harsh, rasping wail.
Bonnie finally rounded the corner. She was right, but now, seeing Phoebe like this, she wished she hadn't been.
Phoebe stood in front of one of the mirrors, her hands clutched so tightly around the rim of the sink that her knuckles were a sharp contrast to her already pale skin. She was staring, her eyes unfocused, at the tap. Her hair was a mess, and Bonnie could see there was vomit on the sink and floor, haphazardly slopped onto the porcelain and dripping.
Some semblance of Bonnie's old self must have still lived on inside of her, because seeing this girl that she was so jealous of did nothing to deter her. Bonnie rushed to Phoebe's side, entirely unfazed by her emotions. She wrapped her arms around Phoebe's shoulders and gave her a reassuring squeeze. "Breathe!" Her other arm wrapped around Phoebe's midsection. Bonnie held her, surprised by how cold her skin felt right now. Phoebe didn't push her away or protest. She only grabbed Bonnie's arms in what could only be desperation. Bonnie cooed, "Deep breaths, baby. Come on. Breathe with me."
Or maybe this side of her was an entirely different side. She had never done this for anyone, never thrown herself into action to help in such a frenetic situation. Bonnie wasn't thinking that this was Phoebe: the girl who seemed to leave destruction in her path, who took from Bonnie her chance at being with the one person she knew she could and did love deeply, albeit due to her own late blooming. No, this was Phoebe: the girl who had been pressured into presenting perfection to the point that her mental health had been discarded, the girl who was isolated in the sea of people who fanatically admired her façade with no understanding of the person beneath it.
"Shh. It's okay. Breathe with me," Bonnie said again. This time she exaggerated her breaths, breathing deeply in and out until Phoebe finally started to mimic her, her entire body trembling with each breath. Bonnie's brow knitted with concern, but she didn't stop. She kept breathing deeply, kept holding Phoebe, even when she finally seemed to calm down.
Even with the urgency of the situation diminished, however, neither girl seemed to shy away from the position they were in. Bonnie felt she must have run into Phoebe for a reason—to help her, to be there when no one else was. Or, maybe, it could have only been Bonnie after all the strife these girls had caused each other.
As if to affirm this notion, Phoebe slumped in her arms, wordlessly resting her head on Bonnie's chest. And Bonnie, to her credit, simply placed her chin on top of Phoebe's head and held her closer. She was aware that there was sick on Phoebe's face and blouse, but didn't care if it got on her. That didn't matter right now, and had she felt in a joking mood Bonnie would have assured herself that she was already dirty after skipping her post-gym shower. Marceline loved this girl. Truly loved her. Perhaps that was why when push came to shove, Bonnie rose up to the occasion to protect her, rather than walking away as she could have easily done.
Bonnie had lost track of how long they had been standing together like this, but the thought of Marceline prompted her to ask, "it's not because of Marceline, is it?" There was no hopefulness to those words. She wasn't fishing for some hint at a separation. She was asking earnestly. Bonnie felt Phoebe shake her head. "Good," she murmured. "Because Marceline loves you very much... she told me today, just so you know."
Phoebe didn't respond verbally, but when she turned the rest of her body towards Bonnie and hugged her—a tight, needy hug—Bonnie knew that she'd needed to hear those words. Classic Marceline, not telling the women in your life how you feel, Bonnie silently chastised her best friend. You know, Phoebe and I have that in common now. Don't be late again...
Bonnie hugged her back, only just then beginning to feel the hurt and strain of the words she'd said. She only wished that there was some sort of resolution in this embrace. She had exited her class earlier searching her mind for answers, but things were only becoming more confusing. Instead of uncovering her resolve, she now just felt deflated, worn down by her emotional exhaustion... and maybe Phoebe's too. "Hey, come on. Let's get you cleaned up."