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Bonnie paused. Her carpetbag in her left hand, and her right on the knob of the dorm room door, she felt the distant vibrations and sounds of the girls in surrounding rooms. They were loud and chatty; she had already hypothesised that they would not like her much at all.She stepped into the room. It was quaint. Smaller than what she was used to, but sufficient.“Hello,” a voice greeted from the corner, making Bonnie jump. For a moment, Bonnie only stared. It was a girl- her roommate, the headmaster had mentioned. Her deeply black hair was pulled up into something glamorous, but what she was wearing, confronted Bonnie. Instead of a dress, the girl only wore bloomers and the corresponding undergarments. No dress. “Be careful of that one,” Madame Helena had chuckled. “She’s a troublemaker. Perhaps that makes you two quite the fit.” Bonnie only stared at Madame in annoyance.But here she was, the so-called troublemaker, gentle in her rocking chair, a novel in her hands. She had a kind appearance, even if she was sort of unorthodox.
“Hello,” Bonnie absently greeted back at her. “Where shall my things be set?”
“Over there,” the girl sighed, nodding her head off in the direction of the poster bed on the other side of the room. On its sheets, sat folded clothing. The uniform.
“Of course,” Bonnie said to herself, suddenly feeling stupid.
“So what’d you do to end up in here?” The girl in the corner asked abruptly.
Bonnie only stared. “What?”
“What did you do to end up here?” A devilish grin escaped from the girl’s lips. “Not many show up halfway through the semester with only a carpetbag to show for it. What did you do?”
Bonnie huffed, placing her things on the bed. “It’s unfair for you to assume I did anything wrong.”
“But you did do something wrong, yes…?” The girl’s snicker ticked something of annoyance in Bonnie, but she ignored it, swallowed her pride. Pick your battles, Bonnibel.
“Yes,” she simply replied.
“And?” Her new roommate pried.
“That’s intimate information,” Bonnie snapped. Quickly unpacking the things from her carpetbag, she glanced over at the girl, who was smirking. “What?”
The girl’s head threw back in laughter. Bonnie only stood.
“I, for one,” started the girl, recovering from her fit. “... Was involved in an incident regarding the maid, the Abadeer family reputation, and a particular amount of gold.”
The girl’s smile warmed Bonnie. Despite her off-putting appearance, Bonnie felt the sense that she had found someone like her, a troublemaker, an ‘unladylike’, the family nuisance. Her annoyance faded as her mouth turned into a grin.
“Alchemy, chemistry, an incident involving them, and Latin,” Bonnie smirked. She knew they would get along well. “I am Bonnibel. What is your name?”
“Marceline,” the girl reached out her palm. Bonnie shook it. “But you may call me Marcy.”