Anonymous

7

Bonnibel paused outside of the classroom, staring at the sky blue door as though it would open for her. She was unsure if she should knock – it was after hours and she wasn't sure if the teacher was still in there, but he had said that the room was available at this time. Did that mean that he was leaving, but she was allowed to stay?

Eventually, she knocked on the door. Three tight raps with her knuckles, loud and clear. If he was in there, she'd be heard.

Sure enough, there was a cough and a crisp, "Come in," so Bonnie pushed the door open and sent her teacher a smile. He was allowing her to use his room; it was only polite for her to smile at him and the unexpected guest.

(Naturally, the smile towards the latter was tighter and constricted.)

"Hello, Mr Abadeer," Bonnie carefully greeted him. She cast a glance towards the other dark haired occupant of the room. "Marceline."

Marceline merely scowled at her in response, but forced a "Hello," when her dad sent her a scathing look. Internally, Bonnie thanked him. She wasn't sure how Marceline was so rude when her father seemed perfectly aligned and proper.

"Take a seat anywhere you'd like, Miss Butler. I know you appreciate the extra study sessions I put on after school." He looked over to Marceline when he said that, as though the words would change something in his daughter's attitude. Bonnie doubted that'd work.

She sat down at her usual seat near the front and grabbed her notebook from her bag, setting it on the table. Her pens came out – one black, one red, and one green – and were set on the desk, perfectly straight. She fingered the black one and began writing, jotting down notes from memory on what they'd gone over in class so far that week.

That was her standard revision technique – notes from memory and then refer to a textbook for more detail. It helped things sink in a little better. It was also how she used to help Bubba back at home. If he had been struggling with something in science, she'd help him out by recapping from her memory. Bonnie had an extensive memory when it came to science.

She nearly jumped out of her skin when a textbook slammed closed behind her. It knocked the note she was about to write about the carbon cycle right out of her mind. She gritted her teeth in annoyance, but didn't voice her feelings; according to Jake and Lady, anyone who did that to Marceline got punched. Fighting wasn't a road she wanted to go down.

"I'm going home." Marceline's voice was much too gentle and melodic for the way she was speaking to her dad. All 'you can't tell me what to do' and teenage angst. In fact, if she wasn't being so rude to everyone, Bonnie might like to listen to her talk. Her voice was...smooth. But that was beside the point. "What time are you finishing up?"

"Well, whenever Bonnibel here decides she wants to finish. I can't leave her unsupervised in the classroom. It's against school policy." Mr Abadeer folded his arms across his chest. "If you're so intent on leaving, you can go home and do the laundry. Your brother is busy tonight with soccer and I don't think you have anything better to do."

Bonnie's face sunk into a frown. There was something under Mr Abadeer's tone that she didn't like.

She chose not to comment. Judging by the way she'd spoken to her the other day, Marceline wasn't a very respectful person. Therefore, she didn't deserve Bonnie's concern.

Marceline shook her head. "Actually, I wanted to get started on-"

Hunson cut over her. "No arguments. Laundry. You never do chores, so I think it's time you make up for that. Understood?"

Marceline sighed and slung her backpack over her shoulder. "Fine. Whatever. I'll see you at home."

She crossed the room and headed towards the door, again, halted by her dad. "Aren't you going to say goodbye to Bonnibel? It's common courtesy, Marceline."

Marceline rolled her eyes and turned to Bonnibel, sending her the most sarcastic smile she could muster. All it elicited from Bonnie was a scowl. "Later, princess."

With that, she stalked out of the door, Bonnie's scowl seemingly permanent. Disrespectful. Mocking. Irreverent. The only words that could accurately describe Marceline were negative, typically.

Hunson seemed to sense her displeasure. "I'm sorry about that. She can be so...rude sometimes. I don't know where I..."

He trailed off and Bonnie decided not to press him for the end of that sentence. She didn't think it'd end very well.

"Yeah, well...I don't know, I guess she was just having a bad day." Bonnie suggested, trying to keep her tone optimistic. Apparently, every day was a bad day for Marceline. "I'm sure she isn't like that all the time."

Lying. Lying wasn't something Bonnie did regularly. Not unless she was trying to make someone feel better, and even then, sometimes she didn't hold back. She just didn't want her favourite teacher to dislike her just because she didn't particularly like his daughter.

Hunson smiled that rigid smile of his again, and Bonnie felt a little better about her lie. "Yes, well...life can be like that sometimes."

She nodded, and looked back down at her notebook again. She tested her pen in the margin of a page and then continued jotting down a few notes, feeling a lot more relaxed without Marceline in the room.

Hunson broke the silence again. "How are you settling in? You've been here for almost a month now."

"Oh, yeah, it's nice here." Bonnie nodded. More lies. Everything was still mediocre about the place. She thought maybe she'd like it better when it was snowy and everything was covered with a soft, white blanket, but it didn't feel the same. When it snowed in York, the city looked like the picturesque place on every single Christmas card. When it snowed here, it was just...boring. "I've made some good friends and school is nice."

Nice. The most unexceptional adjective in the entire English language. She'd used that to describe Glassrock quite a lot.

"I'm glad you've settled in." He sent her that weird smile of his again. Bonnie was fairly certain he hadn't smiled that much in the past few weeks. Every other time she saw him, he usually had a stoic look across his face. Kind of like Marceline, except she mixed things up with a few scowls and glares.

Apparently Marshall was the only Abadeer who actually knew how to smile.

She wasn't surprised when he brought Marceline up again. "I'm really sorry about my daughter, by the way. I'm sure that was probably the worst possible first impression she could've given you."

Oh, don't worry, I've met her before and she was a total bitch then, too. That probably wouldn't be a very good answer. Instead, Bonnie politely shrugged and answered, "I'm sure she's a lot nicer on a better day. One encounter isn't enough to form an opinion on someone. At least for me."

A strange look crossed his face, but Bonnie paid it no mind. He was probably just surprised that she didn't think that Marceline was a raging bitch.

(She did, but he didn't need to know that.)

"Oh, well," He did that thing where he straightened out his papers by tapping them on the desk, similarly to the way news anchors do. "That's good to know. I'll let you get back to your homework now. Focus on schoolwork is important."

Bonnie took that last part into consideration as she pushed Marceline from her mind. Yes. Schoolwork. That was why she'd come in the first place.

She cleared her throat and looked back to the words she'd written on the page, scanning over her perfect cursive for any errors before continuing.

She didn't think about Marceline again for the rest of the day.