Anonymous

8

One day. Just one more day to get through.

That's what Marceline kept in her head, on an endless loop, and it'd stay there until the number hit zero and she didn't have to go to school again for two weeks.

Of course, she'd have to be home for two weeks, but that was a different problem.

She'd probably like school a whole lot more if she didn't have to go. Optional school sounded great. Technically, most students did have optional school. It's not like their dad was a teacher. It's not like their parents make sure they're in school at every possible second.

Seriously. Marceline could projectile vomit in the middle of the cafeteria and her dad would make her stay at school. She could almost hear him – "Oh, don't be silly, that was nothing. You can leave when you're actually sick."

She hated Thursdays. They were the worst day of the week. Far worse than Mondays. On Monday, she only had one lesson with her dad. Sure, it was a double period, but then once he'd seen her in school, she could split. She could go to the local Starbucks for a coffee if she wanted to.

Thursdays? She had a double period of both chemistry and physics. Four hours of her dad, and then an additional, infinite number of hours with him at home. Fantastic. He'd probably be the biggest nuisance of her Christmas break. At least she could sneak out and go to Keila's. That was why she'd rather be on a break than at school.

But it was still Thursday, and she still had to get through it.

She stretched, dragging herself out of bed and into a pair of black skinny jeans and a black sweater. It took her a while to tame her hair – it always did, since it was getting far too long and out of control. Not that she'd cut it, though.

She didn't bother saying goodbye to her dad as she walked out of the door, a cup of coffee in one hand and a bus ticket in the other.

That was another thing that she hated. The bus. She'd stopped having to take it a little while ago since she'd passed her driving test, but then her car broke down. And since she'd spent all of her money on learning to drive and buying a new mandolin, she couldn't get it fixed. There was no way her dad would give her the money to fix it, but money for bus trips? That he could do.

(Luckily, Bongo had nearly repaired her car for her.)

She quickly drained her cup of coffee – plastic cups for hot drinks weren't ideal – and then leaned against the bus timetable, scowling at the occasional peer who dared to glance at her.

Naturally, she was first on the bus, and stalked her way to the back. It was already crowded, since her stop was one of the last, and she ended up next to the short redhead – or was her hair strawberry blonde? – from her science classes. The one that sucked up to her dad and answered all of his questions. The one that had the nerve to talk back to her.

Bonnibel.

Marceline didn't like her. No convincing from Keila would do the trick. Her best friend had tried to get her to like Bonnibel so she could invite her over, but Marceline wouldn't like her. No. Not going to happen. She was stubborn like that, and she didn't go chasing after friendship.

Bonnibel fidgeted next to her, and out of her peripheral, Marceline saw her mouth to a friend something along the lines of I'm okay. Like Marceline was some sort of wild animal that would attack at any moment. The thought made her want to scoff.

If rumours weren't a thing and Bonnibel wasn't so prissy and high maintenance, Marceline might've considered friendship. Might've. But Bonnibel was prissy, and Marceline couldn't tell what Keila saw in her. She didn't know how her other friends felt – the only comment Guy had made was nice tits – but she knew that her brother was a friend of hers. What kind of spell was Bonnie putting on them?