"Keila, no," Marceline sat back on her bed and shook her head as quickly as she could in an effort to emphasise how much she was shooting her best friend's invitation down. "I don't want to go to a party. Besides, I have tons of homework for my classes and -"

"Since when do you care about homework and classes?" Keila sat down next to her and stuck her bottom lip out in a pout. "Come on, just come to this party for me? I need you to be there for me when I'm too drunk to think properly."

"Can't you just text me when that happens?" Marceline laid back on her bed, "Seriously. I just want to stay in and play my bass. No parties for tonight."

Keila huffed, "You're so lame. Can't you just do this one thing for me? I'm like, the best roommate ever to you."

Marceline raised an eyebrow. Best roommate ever? That was probably the biggest lie that had ever come out of Keila's mouth. The amount of times that Marceline had had to stay in Bongo's room with him while Keila and Guy were 'busy' couldn't be counted on both hands. She also liked to be really loud whenever Marceline was trying to study for finals – which never really went well anyway, so she couldn't blame her friend for that one. The way Keila hogged the bathroom could definitely be lived without. Still, she had plenty of reason not to do this 'one thing' for her.

"Yeah, no," Marceline shook her head, "I don't want to go. I know that Ash is probably going to be there, and -"

"That's why you don't want to go?" Keila's left eyebrow quirked upwards, hiding behind her curly mop of hair that was messily pulled back into some sort of bun. "Come on, dude. Don't let that asshole ruin your college experience. Parties are what college is about."

Marceline let out a wistful sigh and glanced over at her bass guitar. "I don't know…"

Keila put her hands together in a manner reminiscent of someone praying, "Please?" She dragged that out for as long as she could, sucking in another deep breath, "I'll poke you until you cave. Don't you want to spend some time with your best friend ever?"

Marceline elbowed her in the side, "Fine. I'll go. Just don't ditch me for your boyfriend, 'kay?"

Keila threw her arms around Marceline in a hug, squeezing her tightly around the waist, "Thanks, Marce. I owe you one, seriously. Cash that in anytime."

"Alright, for starters, get off me," Marceline jokingly shoved her friend away, "What time does the party start?"

"Seven," Keila answered, jumping up from the bed and rooting around her drawers for some clothes, "Get ready, and make yourself look hot. You want to move on from Ash, right?"

"I don't want a one night stand," Marceline caught the implication under that, "No matter how many times you suggest it, I don't want one. I don't want anyone."

A sound reverberated at the back of Keila's throat that was a mixture of a laugh and a scoff. Marceline didn't know how that was possible. "Yeah, okay. I know that Ash was a dick, but that doesn't mean everyone is. I'm sure you can find a really hot guy or girl to move on with."

"I don't want a rebound, either," Marceline finally dragged herself up from her bed and cracked her knuckles, "Spending time with my best friend is enough."

Keila flashed her a smile, "Good. Now get out of those sweatpants. You look like you've not left the room in days."

A red cup was pushed into Marceline's palm and she rolled her eyes, taking a sip of its contents. Vodka. She wasn't planning on getting drunk – her main purpose at this party was to be Keila's supervisor – so she resolved to find a table to ditch the drink on.

She glanced back over at her friend, trying to ignore how she was too busy guzzling from her own red cup and staring over at her boyfriend to focus on whatever Marceline was doing. Typical.

Marceline tried not to care, deciding to daydream as Keila walked her through the party, latched onto her arm. She thought about music, mostly – how she couldn't wait to get her degree over and done with, how she was looking forward to her band's gig next Friday, how she wished she was playing relaxing runs on her bass or soft melodies on guitar. How she'd rather be anywhere but a stupid, mostly freshmen filled college party.

Her daydream was cut to a quick end when Keila let go of her arm and jabbed a thumb in the direction of the kitchen. Over the loud, irritatingly shrill pop music, she shouted, "I'm going to get another drink."

Admittedly, she was a little surprised that Keila had finished her first drink already, but she didn't comment. Instead, she replied with a quiet nod and parted from her friend, making her way over to an unoccupied space by the wall. That would do nicely. She could people-watch until Keila came back, which she knew wouldn't be for a while.

She leaned against the cold wall, one hand stuck in the pocket of her tight black jeans as she glanced around the room. Unconsciously, Marceline sipped on her drink, watching as frat guys tried to flirt with insecure freshman girls and already drunk people staggered around the room with liquid courage, talking to people they wouldn't have a chance with sober.

She allowed herself a proud smile when she saw her friend Finn talking to a redheaded girl who she thought was named something like Phoebe. She wasn't sure if that was definitely the girl's name – Marceline had never been good at putting names to faces. All she could remember from her last conversation with the kid was that he had a crush on a redhead, and she knew that talking to girls was terrifying for him.

Aware that if Finn saw her watching, he'd probably flush red in embarrassment, her gaze darted elsewhere, looking for some form of entertainment. She didn't have much luck.

Unsuccessful flirting used to be amusing, but after going to a number of parties and seeing the same frat boy and awkward girl talking, it lost its punch. And aside from that, there wasn't much entertainment.

She huffed, running a hand through her thick onyx locks in habit, and downed the rest of her drink. She left the cup on the floor and relocated, hoping to find something else to pass the time with. If all else failed, she'd probably end up sitting outside and playing iPhone games, which didn't sound all that unappealing to her.

Her diaphragm plummeted to her feet when she looked to her right and saw Ash.

Naturally, her horrible jerk of an ex-boyfriend would be in attendance. Of course, the universe had to make that happen. She should've known he'd be there, preying on nervous freshman girls. Honestly, the thought of that made her queasy; that some poor and unsuspecting girl would run into him and fall for the charming front he put on.

She panicked when he looked up and smirked at her, ducking past another guy. He was coming right for her. No, that couldn't happen. She wouldn't let him talk to her. He was trouble. Their relationship had been nothing but toxic and abusive and she wasn't going back. No way.

And whenever she was in a panic, Marceline Abadeer tended to do stupid things.

Spinning on her heels, she laid eyes on a strawberry blonde girl who was talking to her friends not five centimetres away from her. Firmly, she grabbed the girl by her shoulders and kissed her, sticking her middle finger in Ash's general direction.

She tasted caramel and chocolate as she kissed the girl, the soft aroma of her bubblegum perfume surrounding her, pulling her in for more. She felt soft hands rest on her waist and pull her closer, her chest pressing against the shorter girl's as her teeth grazed her soft bottom lip. Marceline's grip on the girl's shoulders slackened and then loosened completely as her stomach clenched and burned, fingers disappearing into strawberry blonde hair and locking at the nape of her warm neck.

After about ten seconds, she figured it was safe to pull away and immediately looked to her right, smiling in satisfaction when Ash was nowhere to be seen. Good. That had had the desired effect, then. She tried to ignore how her stomach still felt jittery and shook her head to clear it.

Her gaze moved forwards again and she was greeted with two big blue eyes. "Hello."

"Oh, uh – hey," Marceline pushed her side-bangs back in nervous habit, "Sorry about that."

She looked over to the girl's friends, who were all whispering with their heads together. Of course, there was the occasional giggle, too. That couldn't be good.

"There's no need to apologise," The girl beamed at her, "You're in my creative writing class, aren't you? You're Marceline, right?"

"Uh…yeah," Marceline felt a little bad that she couldn't place the girl at all, "I'm really bad with names. You're…"

"Bonnibel," Another cheerful smile shone up at her as the girl stuck out the warm hand that had just been resting on Marceline's waist, "Bonnibel Butler. Pleased to formally meet you."

"Right, Bonnibel, yeah," Marceline nodded like she'd just remembered – she really hadn't – and sent her one of her trademark lopsided grins, shaking the girl's hand, "Are you a junior too, or…?"

"I'm a sophomore," Bonnibel responded, "My mom recommended the creative writing course so I decided to take it as an extra module. I'm a chemistry major, though. And you?"

"Music," Marceline jumped when Bonnibel carefully threaded their fingers together, "Um, I'm really sorry for just kissing you like that, my -"

"I told you, you didn't have to apologise," Bonnie beamed at her again and Marceline felt her stomach do some sort of backflip. Weird. "I liked it."

"You did?" Marceline blinked in surprise, "I…what?"

Marceline was a little bit surprised that she hadn't been the only one to feel what she felt. It was weird. It was almost alien. She'd never usually felt so...jittery when kissing a random girl at a party.

(Granted, she was usually drunk.)

Bonnie let out a soft little giggle that made Marceline's breath catch in her throat, "Yes, I liked it. A lot."

"You liked it."

"Yes."

Marceline frowned even more. "When I kissed you?"

"Yes!" Bonnie boosted herself up onto her tiptoes and pecked Marceline's lips again for…emphasis? Proof? Just because? Marceline couldn't tell. "It was nice. It's always nice when an attractive girl randomly kisses you at a party. I don't really go to these things, but…I'm glad I did."

"You know what, Bonnie?" Marceline smiled when Bonnibel's cheeks glowed a soft pink and the fond pet name, "I can't help but agree with you, there."