Archive of Our Own ^beta

They say you can’t go home again. Clarke, however, has come and gone so many times, she’s not even sure where home is anymore. Is it where she spent the first ten years of her life, then another four in Boston? Is it in DC where she spent the time in between and the time since?

Her friends are in Boston, save for Wells who stayed in DC after college to go to law school. Her mother is still in DC, too. Her father is no longer in Boston, but he’s not far, up in New Hampshire. And Clarke kind of feels like she floats between the two metropolises, never staying in one long enough to feel rooted in any one place.

But she’s back in Boston, leaving Wells and her mom in DC. She’s starting her first real job—after countless college internships in the nation’s capital—at a large marketing firm working in their art department. She’s already got plans to reconnect with the friends she left after high school. She’s living on her own for the first time ever; not with her parents or Wells or that terrible roommate she had freshman year. But by herself. Alone.

It should be exciting and comforting—being alone for the first time in the very city she spent her most formative years. But she’s terrified. She’s kept in touch with Raven, Jasper, Monty, and Octavia pretty regularly, but now that she’s back and they’re all she knows in the city anymore, she feels like it wasn’t enough. She feels like she let them down over her four years in college.

She never came back to the city, since her dad moved to New Hampshire to teach as soon as she was moving into her dorm in DC. She Skyped weekly with Raven, which sometimes included the others, until it started to taper off in her junior and senior years. Raven and Octavia visited once, their sophomore year. She texted and Facebooked with them. She kept up with the news of their expanding circle of friends. But, without Wells there to have her back—like he had for the last eight years through high school and college—she’s not sure how easy it will be to fall back in with her old friends and their growing group of new friends.

And as Clarke slides onto the only open stool at a bar Raven suggested, she sees one of their new friends tending bar. She’s known him since she was 4 years old, but he’s four years older than she is. He’s Octavia’s brother and, in high school, when she was a freshman and he was a senior, she drooled over him from afar.

Bellamy Blake was a pain in her ass until she moved to DC when she was 10. He always had to be in charge, even when the adults didn’t tell him he was. As far as Bellamy was concerned, no one else was worthy of the control he worked so hard to keep. He was mean to her and Octavia’s other friends—especially Jasper and Monty who wanted nothing more than to be friends with him and the other older boys—but he acted like a brother to them all when he needed to. If Murphy ever tried to push them around, Bellamy would never stand for it. That was his job, after all. He was the big brother. So, when she left for DC with both of her parents, it wasn’t just her friends that she missed, it was Bellamy, too—just a little bit. She’d never had a big brother—or any sibling of her own—he was everyone’s big brother growing up.

After her parents’ divorce, though, she moved back to Boston with her dad and started high school a week later. She and Octavia weren’t in any of the same classes, so she didn’t see much of her that first year. She got to know Raven very well, though, and they became best friends. And Raven was in an elective film class with Bellamy. Clarke didn’t know this for a few months, but once she and Raven got closer and closer, she started spending her time between classes sitting atop Raven’s desk.

That first time she did it, she didn’t think anything of it. Her class was right across the hall and it had none of her friends in it. It just made sense to hang out with Raven in the five or so minutes before the warning bell sounded. When it did, though, she hopped off the tiny desk and started for the door, coming face to face—or face to chest, at the time—with Bellamy.

It was the first time she’d seen him up close since she’d returned from DC. He had steadied her with strong hands on her upper arms, but didn’t show any sign of knowing who she was. To him, she was just some clumsy freshman. For Clarke, though, her entire memory of Bellamy Blake shifted.

He was so much larger and broader than she remembered. He was handsome and had these stupid curls she wanted to run her fingers through. She’d remembered his freckles from all the summers she spent watching him skateboard, but from where she stood, there were so many more. He was breathtaking. Literally. She stopped breathing until he dropped his hands and stepped to the side to let her pass.

She’d apologized quickly, with her head down, as she scurried past him and into the hallway. And she came back to sit on Raven’s desk—and sneak a peek at Bellamy—every day for the rest of the year. But, from that moment on, even after he’d graduated that spring, Bellamy Blake was that one high school crush that Clarke couldn’t shake. No matter who she’d dated or made out with or slept with, when she saw Bellamy, she was 14 again. She was struck by him.

Even now, as a 22-year-old college graduate, Clarke can barely pick her jaw up off the bar’s surface. “Need a menu?” he asks and she swallows before nodding. She can’t even imagine trying to speak. Her voice would no doubt be as high as a cartoon mouse’s.

Bellamy hands her a menu from underneath the bar and studies her for a second and she gets excited. Maybe this time he’ll remember her. She did eventually become friends with Octavia again and, even though he’d moved out of their childhood home to get an apartment with Miller in the city, he came around enough to see them together. He didn’t speak to her, of course, but he always saw her. He had to have heard about her from Octavia. But then he keeps walking down the bar to take an order and she deflates.

She watches his broad set of shoulders through his thin t-shirt until Raven slides onto the stool next to her. “I can’t believe you’re fucking here,” she says and she sounds so happy to have Clarke back in her life. And Clarke realizes that she’s happy to be back, too—scary as it is. “Monty and Jasper will be here in a few minutes and Octavia is meeting us in a couple of hours. We should grab a booth before they all fill up.”

“Great, I haven’t ordered yet,” Clarke smiles, slipping off her stool to stand on her feet. Raven stops her with a hand on her arm and screams Bellamy’s name. “Raven,” Clarke hisses through gritted teeth.

“You’re such an asshole,” she tells Bellamy as soon as he’s in front of them. Clarke can’t make herself look up at him, but she can only imagine he’s glaring at the two of them. “She wants a drink, Bellamy.”

“She wanted a menu, Raven,” he counters and Clarke’s whole face reddens. She finally looks up to see him watching her expectantly. “So?”

“Vodka soda, please,” Clarke tells him and he nods, looking at her again.

“Can I see your ID?” he asks and Clarke wants nothing more than for the floor to open up below her and take her anywhere else. She can hear Raven laughing behind a fake cough as she wrestles her ID out of her wallet, but she ignores her. She also does everything to avoid looking directly at Bellamy until the ID is freed.

When she hands it over, Bellamy studies her picture and then her. His eyes travel over the ID and his brow furrows. “It’s real, I swear,” Clarke says quickly and when he looks at her again, he’s smirking.

“No, I know,” he laughs, sliding it to her across the bar. “I just didn’t know it was you or that you were back.”

“Octavia didn’t tell you?” Raven asks and he shrugs, but his eyes don’t leave Clarke’s face.

“I’m back.” Clarke smiles tightly and Bellamy huffs out another laugh.

“I’ll get that drink for you, then,” he says and she nods as he walks to the other side of the bar to make it for her.

Clarke sighs and squeezes her eyes shut because she is a damn adult. She should not be melting at the sight of Bellamy Blake.

“It’s like freshman year all over again,” Raven says and Clarke opens her eyes just so she can roll them at her friend. “You have to get over this thing you have for him. He’s one of my best friends. He’s O’s brother. He’s around. A lot.”

“There’s no thing,” Clarke lies and Raven scoffs. “Whatever, it’s fine. Everyone has that person. You’re Wells’ and Roan is yours. You and Wells are great friends.”

“Yeah, and me and Roan bone whenever he’s in the city,” Raven says with a smirk and Clarke sighs.

“So, it’s one or the other,” she shrugs. “I can be friends with him.”

“Here you go, Princess,” Bellamy says when he’s back, sliding a glass onto the coaster in front of her.

“Thanks.”

Bellamy nods. Clarke smiles. And they just look at each other for a few seconds. It’s almost like he’s still not sure she’s really there, or he’s trying to figure out why she is, but, then, someone catches his attention at the other end of the bar and he leaves without another word.

“Princess?” Raven asks, her eyebrows practically at her hairline.

“I went through a phase when I was 5,” Clarke explains. She throws down enough money for her drink and a generous tip before sliding off the stool. “I only wore princess dresses for, like, six months.”

“See? He remembers you,” Raven says, nudging her in the shoulder as they walk toward an empty booth. “He just needed some reminding. Maybe you two can bone.”

“I can’t sleep with him,” Clarke laughs uncomfortably. “I’ll fall in love with him for real if I do that.”

“He’s good in bed, he’s not that good.”

“I still can’t believe you slept with him. I can’t believe my best friend slept with Bellamy Blake and can joke about it.”

“Clarke,” Raven sighs. “We’ve talked about this to death. I’m sorry! I was weak and he was there.”

“I don’t actually care,” Clarke says with a laugh. And she doesn’t. She has no right to. Bellamy was never hers. He can sleep with whomever he wants, and so can Raven. “I just like giving you a hard time about it.”

“I know,” Raven tells her, rolling her eyes. “And it’s rude. I feel bad. I slept with your dream man.”

“It was a crush. A stupid, pathetic, immature crush,” Clarke promises with a hand on Raven’s arm. “I’m not going to marry the guy.”

--

So, she’s not going to marry Bellamy, but she is going to have to see him. All of the damn time, apparently. He manages the only bar her friends ever want to go to. He lives with Miller in the same building as Monty and Jasper, which is only a couple of blocks away from her own building. He and Raven are so close that she sometimes feels like she’s been replaced by him. And, of course, he’s Octavia’s brother. He’s everywhere.

“You know, I’ve heard that if you just stare at a door long enough, it’s bound to open.” Clarke smiles and turns to see him walking down the hall toward where she’s standing outside of Raven’s apartment. “No, you looked away! Now we’ll never get inside.”

“You’re a dork,” she tells him with a surprised laugh and he smiles easily. Bellamy Blake, a dork—she never would have imagined.

“And you’re still standing on the wrong side of the door,” he counters, but he stops right in front of her. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know if I’m in the mood for a party,” she admits and Bellamy nods. “I started my job this week and it’s great, but I’m really exhausted.”

“So, why’d you come?” he asks and Clarke knows he’s just being nice, which, in it of itself, feels like a miracle considering their past, but she wants to tell him everything.

“It’s Jasper’s birthday,” she reminds him and he nods. “And it’s the first real party since I got back. I don’t want to miss it. If I want to have a life here, I need to actually leave my apartment.”

“Clarke, you have a life here,” he reminds her. “Your friends are here. Your job’s here. And, yeah, so is your apartment. You’ve only been back a week and I’ve seen you out every night. I’d be exhausted, too.”

“You’re a lot nicer now,” she tells him and she swears he blushes before he looks down at his feet. “You hated me when were little.”

“I still do,” he lies, looking at her again. There’s a mischievous glint in his eye. “Raven threatened my life if I showed you my true feelings.”

“Of course,” she laughs, rolling her eyes exaggeratingly. Bellamy smiles and nods toward the door knob.

“You don’t have to stay long, but everyone is expecting an appearance,” he says gently and she nods.

“Thanks.”

She finally pushes the door open and Bellamy catches it above her head to hold it open for her. She scoots under his arm and is greeted with a chorus of Clarke’s being yelled toward her. Raven already has a drink in her hand while Monty is handing everyone else their own. Octavia is talking to her boyfriend, Lincoln, but smiles and waves excitedly when she sees Clarke. And it’s nice to be there and welcomed so enthusiastically. Even if she does wish she were at home in her sweatpants.

“Give it twenty minutes and Monty’s moonshine will have everyone incapacitated,” Bellamy whispers into her ear from behind her. For a second, she forgot he was there. But that never lasts very long. “You’ll be able to pull an Irish Goodbye and everyone will believe you tomorrow when you tell them you shut this place down.”

“You sound like you know your way around an Irish Goodbye,” she mentions and he shrugs, smirking a little.

When he slips past her and into the thick of the party, Raven slides up next to her and yanks on her arm until her eyes stop trailing Bellamy. “Did you two come together?” she asks and Clarke laughs, throwing her head back. “How is that a funny question?” Raven asks, completely serious.

“Come on,” Clarke says, laughing again. “You know that we didn’t. We ran into each other on the way in.”

“I guess you guys can be friends, after all,” Raven ponders and, for the first time, Clarke thinks she might be right.

Bellamy is and always will be that guy from high school, the one that made her trip from excitement and that she stared at in wonderment, but it’s different now. She really is an adult. And no matter how good looking and charming Bellamy is, he’s just… Bellamy. Or, at least, he will be one day. Right now, she still wants to keep her distance so she doesn’t do something stupid—like get drunk and tell him she’s always loved him, even though she is well aware it’s never been real love.

“Where can I get a drink that won’t knock me out by midnight?” she asks, elbowing Raven gently in the ribs.

“You’ll definitely want to stay away from Monty’s moonshine for that,” she agrees. “That’s an acquired taste. But there are beers and vodka in the kitchen. Everything is up for grabs.”

“Great.”

Clarke lets Raven get back to whoever she was talking to. She thinks it might be Harper, but she doesn’t actually remember. There are more people at the party than Clarke knows from high school—people her friends met in college or at work—but she’s determined to mingle without Raven by her side.

Clarke has always been able to make friends when the stakes are low. In classes or at internships, she could talk to anyone and everyone. In the real world, though, the friends she’s made were forced through those same outlets. All her friends in Boston are friends because of classes they took together in high school or, even before that, in elementary school. She, Octavia, Jasper, and Monty took the bus together every single day. They had the same teachers until she moved to DC. Wells was her friend from birth, he’d be her friend until death. These people would always be with her.

But… now she’s expected to make new, real world friends. With Bellamy and Miller, with these other people she’s never even met. She definitely needs some liquid courage before she starts trying to talk to people who are going to be around for a while.

“We haven’t really had a chance to catch up this week.”

Clarke looks away from her vodka soda on the counter and smiles gratefully at Miller. He’s an easy one. She’s always liked him and he gets along great with everyone else. She’s more than happy to start with him.

“No, I guess we haven’t,” she says, grabbing her drink and turning toward him completely. “How are you?”

“Good.” He shrugs, looking awkwardly into his glass. “Busy as all hell.”

“I heard you just started a new job, too. It’s kind of stressful.”

“Yup.” He nods, looking at her for a second with a furrowed brow. “Well, I’m glad you’re back.”

And then… he’s gone. And Clarke is confused, to say the least. But then she sees Miller walking up to Monty and they both look at her and she knows right away that he was sent over to make small talk. And now she also knows that Miller is terrible at small talk.

“Don’t take it personally,” Octavia says, sliding up next to her. “He can barely talk to Bell and they’ve been friends for, well, ever.”

“I know,” Clarke laughs. “It’s weird, you know? Being here with all of you.”

“But, like, a good weird. Right?” Octavia asks with narrow eyes and Clarke laughs again. “I’m glad you’re back. We’ve needed something to shake up our social lives.”

“Glad to be of service.”

“But, seriously,” Octavia says, grabbing onto Clarke’s hand. “I’m glad you’re here. I missed you. And, god, Raven was insufferable while you were gone. She doesn’t know how to be friends with women who aren’t you.”

“I guess that’s why she and Bellamy get along so well. I mean, she grew up with all guy friends and he only ever talked to girls he was trying to sleep with.”

“And he slept with her, so, yeah. I guess you’re right,” Octavia agrees, smiling. “Remember when we could get Bellamy to play Barbies with us, though?”

“Yes,” she says and she can’t control the laugh that tumbles out of her. “It was only when Miller and Murphy were busy or grounded, though. And remember when he tried to teach me to skateboard? I mean, you were a natural, but I-“

“Couldn’t even stand on the board,” Bellamy cuts in, reaching between Clarke and his sister for the bottle of vodka on the counter. “You were pathetic.”

“You had no patience!” she reminds him, but he just scoffs, pouring himself a glass. “You always just went straight to yelling instead of teaching.”

“Funny how some things change,” Octavia remarks, squeezing her brother’s arm proudly.

“What do you mean?” Clarke asks, looking between the two of them.

“He starts his new job in September!” Octavia nearly screams and Bellamy sighs, running a hand over his face. Clarke can see he’s embarrassed, but she still has questions.

“What new job?” she asks him and he lets his hand fall to look at her.

“Teacher. Eighth grade history.”

Clarke smiles because, in the short amount of time they’ve been spending together, she sees how much that makes sense. He knows how to captivate an audience—even if that audience is just his friends or a group of people at the bar—and he has a lot of passion. About a lot of different things. He’s always been good with kids, in one way or another. Teaching makes sense for him.

“Congratulations,” she tells him and he just shrugs. Octavia socks him in the arm and he pushes her gently away from him and they both laugh. “Seriously, that’s so exciting.”

“Yeah, it is,” he admits finally before sighing. “I don’t want to talk about it. Let’s talk about that time you fell off of my skateboard and tore all of the skin off of your knee.”

“No!” she says adamantly, but then she laughs. She remembers that, has the scar to remind her every day, and she remembers how much she cried after she fell. First, because it hurt so badly, then because she got blood all over her clothes and was afraid she’d get in trouble, and then even more because Bellamy made fun of her so much once he realized it was just a cut. “That moment scarred me both physically and emotionally. I’d rather not revisit it, thank you very much.”

“Bell felt so bad after it happened,” Octavia remembers aloud and both Clarke and Bellamy turn to look at her in surprise. Her, because he showed absolutely no sympathy and kept making fun of her. Him, she figures, because he doesn’t want to be exposed like that.

“I’m pretty sure he made fun of me for, like, a week straight after it happened.”

“I felt bad,” Bellamy tells her and she looks up at his earnest face. “I felt like a dick for getting you on the board and then just letting you fall like that.”

“He made fun of you because he didn’t know how to handle his emotions,” Octavia promises and Clarke kind of feels bad for him then. “Still doesn’t.”

“It’s a family trait,” he reminds Octavia and she shrugs, not denying it.

“It’s was almost fifteen years ago,” Clarke says dismissively and Bellamy smiles to show his gratitude. “It’s a gnarly scar, but it’s a good story.”

“Do people really ask you about a scar on your knee that often?” Octavia asks skeptically. And, well, they don’t normally.

“Mostly just when I’m hooking up with someone and they notice it,” Clarke admits and she chances a look at Bellamy. He doesn’t react and she didn’t expect him to, but—for some reason—it’s important for Clarke to make him realize that she’s not that same little kid who fell off his skateboard. “When I thought I wanted to do pre-med, I hooked up with this girl in a couple of my classes and she went on and on about how she would have treated it to reduce the scarring.”

“Sexy,” Bellamy says sarcastically.

“Yeah, well, we only hooked up that one time.”

“I hope you told her that it was your mother that treated it just to make her feel really terrible,” he says and Clarke laughs. She should have thought of that herself. She’d just ignored it and got out of her dorm room as soon as she could.

--

Becoming friends with Bellamy isn’t as hard as Clarke originally thought. It’s made easier by the fact that they have so many mutual friends and a history together. They have memories and stories. Miller is a little harder to befriend, but he loosens up eventually and he’s funny. After Clarke’s first month in Boston, she’s completely comfortable with all of these people she used to know. And she’s really glad she gets to know them again.

And, more importantly, she barely bats an eyelash when Bellamy enters a room or puts a warm hand on the small of her back when he squeezes by her. She can be friends with Bellamy Blake and even Raven admits it.

“Where are we going again?” Clarke calls from her bathroom.

Raven, who is lying on her bed, scrolling through an article on her phone, calls back, “Roan’s bar. It’s a speakeasy downtown. You’ll like it.”

“Roan,” Clarke groans. “You’re going to abandon me to go get laid.”

“Probably,” Raven agrees gleefully. “But I don’t think it’s abandoning you when we’ll be with all of our friends. Plus, who are we celebrating tonight?”

“You,” Clarke concedes.

“So, who deserves to get laid?”

“You.”

“Thank you. Now hurry up. I need a drink.” Clarke does as she’s told and finishes putting on her makeup.  

She and Raven meet Jasper, Monty, Miller, and Bellamy outside of their building on the way and Jasper whistles at them as they get closer.

“Looking good, ladies,” he tells them and Clarke thanks him quietly, pulling on the straps of the tank top Raven picked out for her so that her boobs aren’t falling out completely. Raven slaps her hand away silently and Clarke drops it to her side. Even though it’s Raven’s night and she’s the one who deserves to get laid, she has been working tirelessly to get Clarke laid, too. Which Clarke wants and needs, but, she also hates pulling up her shirt every two minutes.

The group of them pair off and Clarke ends up at the back of the line with Bellamy. “I hate theme bars,” he complains quietly, most likely so Raven won’t hear him and yell at him.

“Me too,” she agrees. “But it’s Raven’s night. We’re not starting MIT on Monday. She is.”

“Which is why I’m here,” he reminds her. She’s looking ahead of her, at the back of Miller’s head, but she can feel Bellamy’s eyes raking over her body slowly—maybe even appreciatively—and she silently thanks Raven for picking out her outfit. Even if she and Bellamy are friends and nothing more, it’s nice to be appreciated by a distractingly good looking person.

“You start your job next week, right?” she asks and he looks up at the sky quickly, making her smile to herself.

“Yeah. Well, I’ve been in meetings all this week, but school starts next week.”

“Are you nervous?” She asks this questions gently because she’s not sure how good of friends she and Bellamy are just yet. And if 10-year-old Clarke ever asked 14-year-old Bellamy if he was nervous about something, he probably would have pushed her into a puddle or something.

He scoffs, as she expected, but then—after a beat—he sighs. “Terrified,” he admits.

“You’re going to be great,” she promises. And she means it. When she looks over at him, he’s looking down at her cautiously. “What?”

“I never thought I’d be friends with Clarke Griffin.”

“I never thought I’d be friends with Bellamy Blake.”

He huffs out a laugh at that, like he doesn’t believe her, and she’s not sure why. She knows he never wanted to be her friend. When you’re as young as they were, four years is a lifetime. And they were only in high school together for a year—a year when he didn’t know who she was, or at least wouldn’t admit to it.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asks, nudging him in the ribs with her elbow. He nudges back childishly before answering.

“You and the Jaha kid came from a different side of the neighborhood than the rest of us,” he reminds her. It’s true—she and Wells’ families lived in arguably nicer houses behind picket fences with huge yards someone else took care of while their friends lived a few streets over in the smaller houses with yards covered with trees. But that never meant anything to her. It sure as hell doesn’t mean anything to her now.

“Wow, I didn’t know you thought so little of me,” she snipes and she remembers how easy it was for them to fight or for him to make her cry when they were little.

“That’s not what I meant,” he insists and she just shakes her head. “Well, it is, but it’s not what I think now. I’m glad we’re hanging out. I was jaded when I was a kid.”

“Don’t let yourself off so easily. You still are.”

Bellamy chuckles and Clarke smiles, looking down at the ground as they continue walking. Now she remembers why she missed him when she moved to DC the first time. Her relationship with Bellamy has always been different. And it doesn’t seem that’s going to change now that they’re both adults.

Just as she’s about to say something else, they’re interrupted when Octavia sneaks up behind them and jumps on her brother’s back.

“I thought you weren’t coming until later?” he asks, shaking her off of him.

Clarke falls back a step to let them walk together and smiles up at Lincoln. She still hasn’t gotten to know him very well. It seems that Octavia is the only one he enjoys talking to. Not that he’s rude—because he absolutely isn’t—he just keeps to himself. He’s an observer more than anything, but he’s never stingy with a smile and Clarke wants to get to know him eventually.

“How are you?” he asks carefully and Clarke offers him a warm smile.

“I’m good,” she tells him. “Really good. How are you?”

“Really good,” he agrees and they fall into a comfortable silence. 

Since she’s been back in Boston—working at a job she enjoys, spending time with friends she’s missed—Clarke has been happy. She’s always comfortable with these people. She always has someone to grab coffee with or walk to the T with. They don’t all go out together that often—which, after her first week back, she’s happy to discover—but when they do, they always have a good time. Getting to know new people, like Lincoln, and reconnecting with people she met when she could barely walk, like Octavia, has been great. She’s not scared she’s in the wrong place anymore.

But she does miss Wells. More than she even thought she would. Which says a lot.

--

“You always call me at the worst times,” Clarke tells Wells over FaceTime when she’s walking home from the T after work. She sidesteps someone going the opposite direction as her, and then stands against the side of a building to keep out of the way of others walking. Rush hour isn’t just something people deal with on highways; she deals with it on the train and sidewalks every single day.

“I just got home. This is the best time,” he counters, smiling that cheeky, little Wells smile that she really does miss.

“For you,” she laughs. “I’m walking home.”

“You’re standing against a brick wall,” he says and she rolls her eyes, stepping away from the building. Her eyes move frantically while they continue talking—from the screen and Wells’ face, to the path in front of her littered with people, back to Wells.

He’s been back at school for a couple of weeks and already has a million things to tell her. And she’s so happy to talk to him and see his stupid face all lit up with excitement. It makes her excited. She doesn’t have much to report to him in return—work is good, she hasn’t gone out since Raven’s big night, and she stubbed her toe on an uneven sidewalk— but he listens just as enthusiastically as she did for him.

The walk isn’t actually bad, considering how little she’s paying attention to the world around her. It’s not until she turns the corner onto her street where she walks into trouble. Or, more accurately, into Bellamy.

“Shit,” she says, looking up to find him shaking his head at her. He’s amused though. And his hand is warm on her hip from when he caught her. “Sorry. FaceTime,” she says, waving the phone at him and Wells tells her to stop shaking him around in her ears.

Clarke pulls the buds out of her ears and unplugs them from her phone, too. “Who is that?” Wells asks and she turns the camera to face Bellamy. He’s looking more unimpressed by the second. “Oh, shit.”

Clarke hides her smile and pulls Bellamy to stand next to her and turns the camera back to face them both now. “You remember Bellamy, right?” she asks and Wells sighs before answering.

“I remember his fist hitting my face with great force,” he says and she hears Bellamy suck in a breath next to her.

“I wasn’t there for that, but you told me all about it,” she says to Wells, but glances at Bellamy.

“Uh, yeah,” he says, scratching the back of his head. “High school was rough for me. Sorry about that.”

“He’s over it,” Clarke insists to him before focusing back on Wells. “I’ll call you later. When it’s impossible for me to walk into strangers. Or Bellamy.”

“How is Wells?” Bellamy asks once she’s slid her phone into her back pocket.

“Really good. Loving law school,” she reports happily and Bellamy nods, seeming only vaguely interested. “Why are you lurking outside of my apartment?”

“It was Miller’s idea,” he says, completely unhelpfully. “I, uh, was running late this morning and left my keys on the counter. He’s working late, told me I should hang out here until he gets home. Do you mind?”

He looks so unsure of himself that she can’t help but smile. “Of course not,” she insists. “Come on up.”

He follows behind her up the steps to her apartment and now she feels unsure of herself. None of her friends—except for Raven—have been in her apartment. She always meets them on the sidewalk on their way to wherever they’re going. Or she meets them at their apartments because they all live together or, at least, in the same building as each other. Or she meets them at Raven’s because that’s where all the good booze is and the most comfortable couch.

Once Clarke and Bellamy make it inside her apartment, she turns toward him as he lets out a long, low whistle. “Why don’t we hang out here more often?” he asks and she rolls her eyes. “I mean, this is a nice place.”

“It’s fine,” she agrees, tossing her bag onto the table near her front door. “Want anything to drink? An afternoon snack?” Bellamy laughs and shrugs, but she hears him follow her into the kitchen. “I like the tie, by the way,” she tells him and he looks down at it before loosening it at the neck. She’s almost surprised at herself for saying anything at all. The Clarke that first showed up in Boston would never have been able to give such an innocent compliment. Not to Bellamy.

“Thanks,” he says with a quiet laugh. “It still feels weird having to wear one every day.”

“It works,” she says. “Coffee? Beer? What are you in the mood for?”

“You really don’t need to entertain me,” he promises. “I can just hang out and read until Miller tells me he’s on his way home.”

“Or we could have a beer and watch some TV?” she offers, holding one out to him. He takes it hesitantly and then smiles.

“Thanks.”

“Make yourself comfortable. I need to change into something a little less corporate.”

Once she’s alone in her room, she takes a breath and sits on the end of her bed. Being alone with Bellamy isn’t a big deal. Sure, she thought about all the possibilities of what could happen with just the two of them when she was 14, but she’s not 14. She doesn’t have feelings for Bellamy. He’s hot—that’s just a fact, she can’t do anything about that. He’s single, sure, but he’s not interested. He’s nice to her, wants to be her friend, but that’s it. And that’s enough for her.

Really.

He’s relaxing on her couch when she gets back to the living room in a pair of leggings and a sweatshirt. The TV is off and he’s scrolling through his phone in silence, so she leaves him there to grab herself a beer.

“Miller said he’d be home in an hour,” Bellamy calls to her and she hurries back to the living room to sit down next to him. “Hope that’s not a problem.”

“Bellamy, it’s fine. You are more than welcome to hang out here. Whenever.”

“But none of us have been here,” he reminds her. It’s true. They haven’t. Raven has a couple of times, when it’s just the two of them, but no one else. She hasn’t really been hanging out with anyone else one-on-one yet. “I figured you just wanted to keep this place to yourself.”

“No,” she promises, folding her legs beneath her. “I just-“ She stops herself and shakes her head, feeling a little pathetic.

“What?” he asks, hitting her knee with the back of his hand to get her attention. She smiles up at him and sighs.

“I feel a little like an outsider,” she admits. “I mean, I am an outsider. So, you know, I don’t want to offer up my house if someone else has already offered theirs. Or I don’t want it to look like I think I can just slide in right where I left when everything has changed in four years.” Clarke stops talking abruptly when she notices the way Bellamy is looking at her. He’s clearly amused, a little confused, and maybe… surprised? “What?”

“You’re hardly an outsider, Clarke,” he tells her, smirking ever so slightly. “You went away to school, you’re not a completely new entity.”

“I am to you.”

“What are you talking about?” he asks and Clarke just sighs. Bellamy presses on, though. “I’ve known you for like eighteen years.”

“No,” she reminds him and he leans toward her a little, ready to listen to whatever she has to say next. It still feels so weird when he does that—listens to her, pays attention to her. But, she tells him the truth anyway. “You knew me for six years. And then we didn’t speak or hang out for twelve years. I’m pretty much a brand new person that you’ve been forced to hang out with the last couple months.”

Bellamy leans back, but keeps looking at her. She knows she’s right. They’re not hanging out together by choice. They have mutual friends. When they were kids, they had Octavia in common. They’ve never even been given a choice in being in each other’s lives.

“But we’re friends,” he says slowly. “Now. Despite the twelve years of silence.”

“And the six years of you hating me?” she asks and he smiles.

“I didn’t hate you,” he promises. “You were just… little. And you wore those stupid princess dresses and crowns. And once that phase was over, you just got really annoying.”

“And you were always so easy to get along with? You never yelled at me or made me feel like an idiot,” she lies and she can hear Bellamy’s sharp intake of breath.

“I was young, too. Truce?”

He holds out a hand for her to shake, but she hesitates. Instead, Bellamy picks her hand up from off her knee and holds it, looking right in her eyes. “Truce,” she says finally, shaking his hand.

--

“I’m not in love with him,” Clarke insists, yet again. Raven still doesn’t believe her, she can tell. “I’m not! We’re friends. That was the whole point of that story—we are finally, really friends.”

“Clarke, you can admit it,” Raven promises, holding onto Clarke’s wrist as they walk into the bar. “You spent an hour alone with him and all those high school feelings came rushing back. It happens to the best of us.”

Clarke knows she’s just trying to get a rise out of her now. She can see it in Raven’s eyes—the mischief and the taunting. But she is getting a rise out of her. It’s important for Raven to understand the truth. She and Bellamy are friends. Clarke is not in love with Bellamy. She doesn’t even have a crush on him. They’re friends. She’s not in high school anymore.

The two of them sit at the bar, empty save for a few people toward the end. The bartender isn’t even there. “For the love of all things holy, Raven,” Clarke starts, tossing her work bag onto the bar with force, “I am not in love with him!”

“In love with who?” Bellamy asks, popping up from behind the bar, a rag on his shoulder and a smirk on his face.

Raven laughs, but Clarke goes white and gasps. “Bellamy!”

“Who aren’t you in love with?” he asks again, sliding her bag down the bar so he can lean on his elbows across from her. He looks so interested in what she has to say and she wants to run away.

Clarke can’t even come up with a name that isn’t his, so she looks at Raven whose smile opens up into another laugh, but she does speak up. “What are you doing here?” she asks, changing the subject. Clarke can’t help but squeeze her knee under the bar in gratitude.

“I work here.”

“You’re a teacher,” Clarke says—finally catching her breath—and Bellamy stands up straight, shrugging.

“I told them to keep me on call on the weekends, in case they needed extra help,” he explains. “And I could always use the extra money. Two people called out tonight, so here I am.”

“But you were supposed to meet us here in an hour,” Raven says, leaning over the bar to smack him in the shoulder.

“I didn’t think you’d mind since I’m going to be here anyway,” he laughs, tossing his rag at her face. “What do you want to drink?”

“Jack and Coke,” Raven tells him, pulling out her phone. Before Clarke can answer, she sees a message to the group chat from Raven telling them all Bellamy is working, not hanging out.

“Vodka soda,” Clarke says. “Do you need to see my ID?”

Bellamy takes his rag back and tosses it right at Clarke before walking away to make their drinks.

“Inside jokes,” Raved muses and Clarke rolls her eyes. “How far you’ve come.”

“Shut up or we’re not friends anymore.”

“That’s fine. You don’t need me anyway, Bellamy is your friend now.”

“You know,” Clarke says, wrapping and re-wrapping Bellamy’s damp, disgusting rag around her hand, “I can hear the air quotes when you say friend.”

“I know,” Raven tells her, her smile too saccharine to be genuine. “That’s the point.”

By the time Bellamy comes back with their drinks, Clarke and Raven have moved on to another topic—one that doesn’t have anything to do with Bellamy at all. Finally. He sets down their glasses and unwraps his rag from Clarke’s hand while she’s distracted and heads to his new customers on the other side of the bar.

When Octavia slides into the seat next to Clarke and Lincoln next to her, Clarke grabs her bag and hugs Octavia quickly. “Bellamy tells me your apartment is nice and you should invite us over sometime,” Octavia says almost immediately. “I like nice apartments. I like you. I don’t like that my brother saw your nice apartment before I did.”

“I found him lurking outside of my building,” Clarke tells her. “What was I supposed to do? Make him wait for Miller outside?”

“I’ll forgive you when you let me see it for myself.”

“Tomorrow night,” Clarke tells her and almost immediately regrets it. She’s not ready for people to come over. She has no snacks. There’s nothing to celebrate. 

“What about tomorrow night?” Bellamy asks, handing Octavia and Lincoln their regular beers.

“Clarke’s inviting us all over,” Octavia explains before taking a long sip of her drink. “You’re not working, right?”

“Not currently, no,” he says, looking to Clarke. “If they call me tomorrow, I can just tell them I can’t come in. You’re sure about this?”

“Of course,” she lies. “Come over. I’ll make dinner and we can play Exploding Kittens or something.”

“I’m always down for Exploding Kittens,” Raven announces. “Can I text everyone else?”

“Yeah, go ahead,” Clarke tells her and then sighs, looking down at her lap. Tomorrow’s Saturday, she has all day to clean and go shopping. And to cook dinner and buy Exploding Kittens.

“They’ll be here in a couple of minutes,” Bellamy says, snatching the phone from Raven’s hand. “Tell them in person.”

“Ugh, you’re such a teacher now,” she says, grabbing it back, but sliding it into her pocket.

--

As soon as Clarke wakes up on Saturday, she goes to the store to buy food and texts Raven and Jasper to bring some games. Delegating is always good, especially when her friends make it easy and agree right away.

When she gets home, she puts the necessary chili ingredients into her slow cooker, puts away the rest of her groceries, and takes a deep breath. Having people over doesn’t need to be a big deal. It felt like it would be the night before, but she can deal with it. She’s an adult and these are her friends and it’s nice to be able to have them over. It’s nice that they’re all there—except for Wells, of course—to spend nights together and have a good time.

Her house is clean enough and she can see her sketch book sitting on her coffee table—abandoned over the past few weeks—so, she grabs it, stuffs it into her purse, and leaves her apartment.

There’s a nice, quiet Starbucks not far from her building. It’s never crazy busy, since she’s far enough from any T stop and the middle of the city. She likes going there on the weekends, when she has time, to work on her own art. It’s nothing serious, just sketching to take her mind off of all her work. It’s her bit of an escape from corporate America and doing all of her artwork on the computer.

Once she’s settled into a table with a latte and her book is open in front of her, she’s able to ignore her surroundings—the other customers in the Starbucks, the workers teasing each other behind the counter, the people walking past her just outside of the window she’s sitting in front of. She loves when she can steal an hour or so out of her busy life to draw—no deadline, no changes or criticism—just for herself.

She’s so lost in what she’s doing that when she hears a tap on the window, she practically jumps out of her seat—to the point where some of her latte splashes onto the table. When she looks up and out the window, she finds Bellamy laughing at her. She shakes her head and tries not to smile, but she’s pretty sure she fails.

He’s sitting down across from her before she even realizes he’s walked inside. “What are you up to?” he asks, tapping the table with the pads of his thumbs.

“Just coffee and drawing,” she tells him, closing the book and pushing it to the side of the table. “What’s up with you?”

“I was just going to the convenience store to get some milk for my coffee.” He grabs her pencil from the table and starts spinning it between his thumb and forefinger. “How are you feeling this morning?” he asks after a few minutes of silence. “You had a lot to drink last night.”

“I’m okay,” she says, taking her time to study him while he’s focused on the pencil in his hand. “I’m not 10 anymore, you know. I can hold my liquor.”

“Believe me, Princess, I know you’re not 10 anymore,” he says, looking up at her. It’s quiet and she’s not sure what his tone means, but she can’t help but smile. It’s been important to her that he realizes that she’s not a kid and that her other friends realize she’s not who she was when she left. It’s nice for other reasons, too. Reasons she’s not quite ready to admit, even to herself.

“Is Princess ever going to die?” she asks, slapping his hand.

“We all die eventually, Clarke. I don’t know when you’re going to go.”

“I hate you,” she laughs and Bellamy grins. This is what it feels like to be friends with Bellamy Blake. She likes it. She could get used to it. “Why don’t you just have coffee here? Hang out for a bit?”

“Yeah?” he asks, glancing down at her notebook, as if to make sure he’s not interrupting anything.

“Yeah,” she insists and he gets up to order his coffee. When he comes back, coffee and bagel in hand, he takes a sip and looks her over. “What?”

“Are you sure it’s okay if we all come over tonight? You seemed a little… unsure about it last night.”

“I was,” she admits, laughing a little. “It was so much easier when I lived with Wells—the work divided evenly between us. Or… my parents, who hired people to do the work. And they always had more than 24-hour notice.”

“You can reschedule,” he tells her, his toe tapping hers under the table. “Give yourself some more time. Octavia can get over it. Or I can just invite everyone over to our place. They’ve all already seen it at its worst. They’re the ones to blame when it’s at its worst, actually.”

“No, it’s fine. I promise. I went shopping this morning. There’s chili cooking in my slow cooker. My apartment is always clean—at least clean enough. I’m over it. We’ll have fun.”

“Okay.” He still seems unsure, like he’s not convinced, but she smiles at him and he relaxes. “If you want them out, I can make some kind of scene. Just give me the sign.”

“What sign?” She laughs and he smirks, taking a sip of his coffee. “We don’t have a sign.”

“We can come up with one.” Bellamy shrugs and Clarke rolls her eyes. He really is a dork.

“I think we’ll be okay without one,” she insists. When he shrugs again and looks out the window, Clarke lets herself get lost in looking him over. Again. Starting at the beanie on his head and making her way down to the messy curls sticking out from under it, to the freckles across his face, and the scar on his lip. This is the same Bellamy she grew up with, the same one that drove her crazy and yelled at her when she was being annoying. It’s the same Bellamy that she stared at in high school, who she thought was so large and handsome then, but who is even broader, stronger, and more beautiful now. It’s the same Bellamy that carded her on her first night back, who smiled so easily when he realized who she was.

But he’s different now, too. He’s her friend. In all of her past experiences with him, she’s never been able to say that and mean it, but she can now. “What?” he asks, defensively, as if out of nowhere, and she startles back to reality. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing, just…” she trails off, studying his face again, looking for some kind of excuse. “I was remembering when you got that scar on your lip.”

He reaches up and runs the tip of his finger over it and waits for her to go on. “I think that’s the only time I’ve ever seen you scared.”

“Well, a dog bit my face. It’s pretty fucking terrifying,” he tells her and she nods. It was scary for her, too. She remembers Octavia screaming when the two of them turned the corner onto the Blakes’ street and saw Bellamy on the ground with a dog on top of him. The owner was there, too, wrestling the dog off, but Clarke and Octavia were only focused on Bellamy and the blood. She doesn’t even know who the owner or the dog were—she never got a good enough look.

“Don’t worry. My mom said you were very brave that day.”

“Yeah, I was really worried about that.”

Clarke smiles and he passes his plate to her, nodding at the bagel. “No thanks,” she tells him and he takes it back. “Do you still think it’s weird that we’re friends?”

“It’ll always be weird,” he promises, “But, like, a good weird.”

--

By midnight, Clarke and her friends are scattered around her kitchen. She’s not sure how, but she always ends up on the kitchen floor. This time, she’s got her head on Monty’s shoulder, Bellamy sitting on her other side, Raven and Octavia are on the counter above them, and Jasper, Lincoln, and Miller are sitting in the chairs around her tiny table. They’re all eating the cake that Octavia brought—apparently, it’s not a party without a cake and, apparently, they’re having a party.

“Octavia,” Monty starts before taking a long sip from his beer, “when did you get your tattoo? And why wasn’t I there?”

“She got it in DC with Clarke and Raven,” Bellamy answers, shaking his head in disapproval. “She hid it from me for almost six months.”

“Well, mom had just died and you thought you were my father,” she reminds him and Clarke lifts her head and looks at him. He just shrugs and takes a drink. “I felt like I had to hide it from you. And you only found out about it at all because you saw Raven’s when you were having sex and she told you the story!”

“Wow,” Clarke mouths, looking up at Raven. She rolls her eyes and hands Clarke another beer from the counter.

“Can we talk about that, too?” Jasper asks, leaning his elbows on his knees to bring himself closer to the group on the floor.

“Absolutely not,” Bellamy says at the same time Raven says, “No.”

“It just- it’s never made sense to me,” Jasper tries arguing, but Miller tosses a balled up napkin at him. “I’m sorry! Does it make sense to you?”

“That’s the thing,” Miller says, “It doesn’t have to make sense to me. Or you. Our friends’ sex lives are none of our business.”

“I’m not saying they are, I’m just saying I’m curious,” Jasper mumbles.

Clarke chances a look at Bellamy again and he’s watching her already. When he smiles at her, she makes a face first—because he’s being weird—but eventually smiles back. No matter how good of friends she’s becoming with Bellamy, she doesn’t want to hear his side of the Raven story. She knows Raven’s and it’s enough to cause a squeeze in her heart when she thinks about it.

She rests her cheek on Monty’s shoulder again he presses a kiss to the top of her head. Monty knows how she used to feel about Bellamy. He’s been kind enough to never bring it up since she moved home. “Okay,” he says, causing everyone to look their way. “Raven, are you still hooking up with Roan?”

“How did this become about my sex life?” she asks, throwing her hands in the air, beer spattering to the floor from the sudden movement.

“I’m curious to know the answer that, too, actually” Clarke pipes in and Raven eyes her.

“You know what? Me too,” Miller agrees and she groans.

“Not for two months now, since we went to his bar. And I think we’re done. Which is good, because he’s kind of an ass. He just happens to be an ass who’s really good at sex.”

“So you’ve mentioned,” Octavia says with a smile. “Time and time again.”

“Good riddance,” Clarke says, raising her beer bottle in celebration. Bellamy taps his against it in solidarity and they share another, small smile. Clarke can feel her cheeks start to flare up, but if anyone asks, she’s blaming the alcohol. “He’s a tool.”

“Agreed,” Raven says, kicking her feet onto the counter and resting against the side of Clarke’s fridge. “His number’s already blocked and deleted.”

“Here, here,” Monty cheers and everyone echoes him.

“Clarke,” Octavia says and she squeezes her eyes shut, bracing herself. She’s never really enjoyed the truth game.

“You already know everything about me,” Clarke reminds Octavia, but she shakes her head. “Fine, what?”

“You’ve really never slept with Wells?”

“Seriously?” Clarke asks, because… It’s insane.

“That’s a pretty solid question,” Bellamy says before quickly hiding his smile behind his beer when she glares at him.

Clarke looks around at the rest of her friends and they’re all looking at her expectantly, except for Raven, who’s laughing quietly into her own beer bottle.

“He was really into you when you came back in high school,” Jasper offers and she cringes. It’s true—before he turned into a puddle around Raven, he did the same to her.

“I have never, and will never, sleep with Wells,” she promises. “He got over me as soon as I started bringing Raven around, remember? And since then, we’ve been like brother and sister. And we will remain that way until one of us dies.”

“Is he still into Raven?” Octavia asks, more curious than anything.

“I don’t think so,” she answers honestly. She’s not sure how he’d feel if he was with them all, but being so far away makes it easy to move on from a high school crush. It was the same for her, she rarely thought about Bellamy when she wasn’t directly talking about him with her friends while she was living in DC.

“I have another one for Clarke,” Bellamy says, taking a deep breath, like it’s a life or death situation. “DC or Boston?”

“What do you mean?” she asks, leaning back against the cabinets. The way he looks up from the bottle in front of him is… new. It’s shy, almost.

“Are you staying?” Lincoln asks, but she doesn’t look away from Bellamy.

“I only just got here,” she says, and Bellamy’s face goes a little stony, so she elaborates. “I mean, I think so? I like my job. I like being back with my friends. Of course, I miss Wells and my mom. But… you guys are here and my dad’s so close and I like it here. I don’t plan on leaving anytime soon.”

“So, Boston, then,” Bellamy decides.

“It’s not a competition, Bellamy.”

“But,” he says with a smirk, “If it were, then we’d win.”

“Sure.” She rolls her eyes, but Monty nudges her with his elbow and she can’t help but smile. Boston is winning, honestly, and this night is making it all the more obvious.

--

“Can we talk?” Raven asks her, a couple of weeks after the impromptu party at Clarke’s place. They’ve seen each other since then, but Raven’s been getting ready for finals and Clarke is leaving for DC in a couple of days, so they’re on a bit of time crunch.

“Of course,” Clarke answers, opening her door wider to let Raven inside. “What’s going on?”

“You’re into Bellamy.”

Clarke just looks at her—her best friend, who knows her better than anyone, apparently even herself. “Am I?” she asks slowly.

“Yes, for real this time,” Raven says and Clarke starts shaking her head slowly. “You are. Everyone can tell.”

“Bellamy can tell?” She really hopes Bellamy can’t tell. Hell, she’s barely been able to tell herself.

“Well, no. Bellamy has always been an idiot. He couldn’t tell Gina was into him until they broke up,” Raven explains. “Which is why they broke up, because he thought she wasn’t into him romantically. He didn’t find out how much she’d actually liked him until she was already dating someone else. He’s a blind idiot.”

“Huh,” Clarke hums and Raven nods. “I don’t know if I am. At least, not for real. Those lingering school girl crush feelings come up every so often, but I don’t know if we’d ever work out. He’s Bellamy.”

“And he’s into you.”

That catches her off guard. She’s let herself think that she might be into Bellamy now—as an adult who actually knows him, unlike her little crush in high school—but, she never let herself imagine he might like her back.

“Why do you say that?” she asks and Raven laughs so hard her ponytail swings onto her shoulder. “Raven.”

She sobers a little, still smiling, though, and says, “You’re a blind idiot, too.”

“Okay, that’s rude.”

“But, he’s also one of my best friends and I’m not blind. You two always find each other when we’re hanging out. He’s so smiley with you. It’s weird. Bellamy’s not an easy smile.”

“He seems pretty easy to me,” she admits.

“Exactly,” Raven says. “He won’t admit it to me. I’ve tried.”

“Raven!”

“I didn’t say anything about you liking him,” Raven tells her quickly. “I just wanted to hear his side. I know your side.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Clarke, I do.”

“Okay, fine!” Clarke yells and Raven smiles to herself. Of course she likes Bellamy as more than a friend. It was inevitable. She’s just been really good about pretending it wasn’t happening. “Why are you doing this now? I have to go to my mom’s on Saturday and I’ll be gone for a week. Now I have to think about this whole thing over Thanksgiving.”

“That’s why I’m doing it now,” Raven says softly. “Do something before you leave. Make a move.”

“I don’t want to make a move,” Clarke admits. “I like being his friend. And I could have lived happily in denial if you didn’t come over and bring this up.”

“Hey, I’m just trying to do you two a service. I like the idea of the two of you together. You’d make each other happy. And, god knows, you both need that.”

“What if he doesn’t have feelings for me, Raven? What if he just likes me as a friend in a different way than he likes you or Miller? I like hanging out with him. I don’t want to screw this up.”

“Bellamy won’t let that happen,” Raven tells her earnestly. “If he doesn’t feel the same, he won’t shut you out or anything. He won’t even make it weird.”

“I’ll make it weird.”

“Well, that’s probably true.” They both laugh and then Raven reaches for Clarke’s hand, giving it a quick squeeze. “Bellamy’s probably one of the best people to have feelings for, even unrequited feelings. But, if you want my opinion, I honestly don’t think they’re all that unrequited.”

“The two of you are close, Raven. We’re just not there yet. And we never will be if I tell him how I feel.”

“Clarke. The only reason Bellamy and I became friends is because we slept together when Octavia and I were living together sophomore year,” Raven starts and Clarke squeezes her eyes shut. It didn’t matter when she had unrealistic, high school fantasies about Bellamy, but it is different now. Especially now that she knows she’s into him. “He was over all the time because he didn’t like Miller’s boyfriend and one night Octavia fell asleep super early and I was in a bad place because Finn cheated, we were bored, so we had sex. He never stopped coming over, but we never slept together again. Instead, we just became… friends. And we’re still friends.”

“What’s your point?”

“My point is, he will still be your friend even if he doesn’t like you the way you like him. Even if you make it awkward. Even if it takes you some time to move on. Bellamy will still be your friend; I promise.”

“I’ll think about it,” Clarke says finally and before Raven can boast, she says, “After I get back. Now, can we get dinner or something? I don’t want to deal with this right now.”

“Okay,” Raven agrees. “I’ve done what I came here to do. Let’s go.”

--

“Raven ruined my life,” Clarke tells Wells as soon as she’s done hugging him to death.

“How so?” he asks, throwing his arm around her shoulders and leading her into his apartment. He moved into a smaller one when she moved to Boston, but it’s nice—clean, except for the mess of books and notes on his desk in the corner.

“She made me realize I have feelings for Bellamy,” she says, curling into the corner of his couch, which used to be hers. She’s missed it.

“You’ve always had feelings for Bellamy,” he reminds her, leaving her alone to go grab wine and some glasses from the kitchen. She scoffs anyway, even if he can’t hear her. “Seriously, was that news to you?”

“Yes! Big news!”

“Come on, Clarke,” he says, pouring her glass before sitting down. “Even I could tell and I’ve only briefly seen the two of you together over FaceTime.”

“Okay, maybe not huge news,” she admits. “I was mildly aware that I might be falling for him and his stupid charms.”

“You should tell him,” Wells says, like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

“You know what? Can we talk about something else?” she asks, practically begging. “Just for now. I’m only going to be here another five days. I never see you in the flesh. Let’s have a nice Thanksgiving break.”

“It’s not really much of a break for me,” he reminds her. “I only have Thursday and Friday off. I have classes tomorrow through Wednesday.”

“God, law school sucks.”

“College was the same way, you just didn’t have travel for Thanksgiving then.”

It’s true. Thanksgiving has always been her mom’s—and now Marcus’s—holiday. So, when she was in college, she just went to their house a few stops away on the Metro. Christmas is her dad’s holiday and she was off for an entire month in college anyway, so traveling wasn’t a hassle and she had more time to relax around it. She already has plans for the night she returns home, so relaxing will have to wait a week.

“What about you? Any romantic prospects?”

“As you so astutely mentioned, grad school sucks,” he laughs. “I don’t have time for that.”

“Octavia and Bellamy asked if you and I have ever had sex,” she tells him without thinking and then she cringes. “Sorry, that’s weird.”

“It’s not. We haven’t.”

“Obviously. It’s just weird they care.”

“The Blakes have always been curious,” he ponders and she nods. “Was it weird because it was Bellamy?”

“It was actually Octavia. Bellamy just agreed it was a good question for the game.”

“I can’t believe you’re all still playing that game. I can’t believe that Bellamy is playing it with you.”

“You’d like adult Bellamy, you know,” she tells him and he just scoffs. “He was, what? 16 when he punched you? That was ten years ago!”

“He punched me because he found me in Octavia’s room,” Wells reminds her. “Monty and Jasper were there, too. He just couldn’t see them sitting on the floor behind the door. He had a really bad temper.”

“I’ve literally never heard him yell since I moved home.”

“Home,” Wells says, moving on from the topic of Bellamy completely. “You’re calling it home now?”

“I live there, so yeah,” she tells him, trying not to sound defensive. It’s still a pretty fresh topic on her mind. “It’s home.”

“For now? Or forever?”

“I can’t tell the future, Wells.” She gets off of the couch and walks into his kitchen, like she still lives with him, and goes to the cabinet where she knows he keeps his chips.

“Why are you being weird about this?” Wells asks, following her into the kitchen. “I’m just asking you a question.”

“I’m not being weird.”

“You are,” he argues. “Clarke, it’s okay if Boston is home. It’s okay if you never move back here. I have no idea where I’m going to end up after law school and it’s not like we can plan our entire lives around each other. We have our own lives, especially now. That’s not a bad thing.”

“I never wanted us to have our own lives. I liked our life the last eight years.”

“Yeah,” he says with a soft smile, “but Bellamy wasn’t a part of it.”

“Shut up. You know this has nothing to do with Bellamy. It has to do with all of them. And you.”

“Clarke,” Wells says, reaching for the bag of chips in her hands so she will focus on him. So smart, that Wells. He always knows when to snatch the food from her.

“What?”

“You’ll always be my best friend. It doesn’t matter if we’re 500 miles or 5 seconds away from each other. I promise.”

“I know that,” she says quietly. And she does know that. She’s always known that. Even when she was 10 and moved to DC the first time, leaving Wells back in Boston with the rest of her friends. She didn’t know then that she and her dad would be moving back in four years, but she did know that she’d talk to Wells whenever she could. And it’s so much easier now, since they have cell phones, and FaceTime, and the money and freedom that allows them to hop on a plane nearly whenever they want. “I just miss you.”

“I miss you, too,” he promises. “But you’re here now and I have to go to New York over Christmas to see my dad, so I can spend a couple of days in Boston with you, if you want.”

“I want!” she says quickly and they both laugh. “That would be great. I’ll be with my dad on the 24^th and 25^th, but I can make time for you any other time.”

“Perfect. We’ll figure it out.”

“Good,” she says. It’s very good. She hears her phone go off in the next room and she and Wells take the chips back with them.

While Wells turns on the TV—since their plan was to watch a movie—Clarke checks her texts to see one from Bellamy. She glances at Wells before opening it, but he’s busy scrolling through Netflix to notice her, which is good, because her face probably just lit up.

Bellamy: You’re not going to be here for our pre-Thanksgiving dinner? When do you leave?

Her: I left yesterday. I thought you knew!

Bellamy: I didn’t. O just told me when I mentioned asking you to bring the bread.

Her: I’m sorry! I’ll be home Saturday. Want me to bring some bread then?

Bellamy: Yes.

“Who is that?” Wells asks, surprising her enough to throw her phone onto the couch. “You’re being weird again.”

“Bellamy,” she tells him. No use in lying. He already knows how she feels about him. “I guess he didn’t know Thanksgiving was my mom’s holiday. He thought I’d be home for their early Thanksgiving dinner.”

“He’s sad,” Wells tells her and she realizes he’s picked up her phone and is reading through their brief conversation.

“He’s really not.” She snatches her phone back just as another text from Bellamy comes through. She reads it and smiles. “He said I have to promise to be in the city the Saturday before Christmas or I don’t get a personalized stocking cookie.”

“He sounds like a mom trying to guilt trip her kid.”

“That’s Bellamy.” She texts him back, promising to be there, and looks up at Wells again. “Start the movie.”

“Stop smiling like that about the only person who’s ever punched me.”

“I punch you all the time,” she reminds him, emphasizing it with a pathetic punch to his bicep.

“Yeah, that’s the same as a punch to the face and a bloody nose from your friend’s brother.”

“Hey, now he’s your best friend’s friend.”

“That’s even worse.”

“You’re going to love him when you come up and visit.”

“Doubtful.”

--

“What are you doing here?”

Clarke whips her head to see Bellamy standing over her where she’s sitting at a booth in the bar. “I’m meeting a friend from work. I missed a meeting I need to be up to speed on before work on Monday,” she tells him and he nods, sliding in across from her. He’s got the dish towel thrown over his shoulder like a stressed out first-time dad, so she knows he’s working. “You work here more than I thought you did.”

“Apparently people have better places to be during the holidays,” he tells her, smirking slightly.

“How do you know they’re better? They could be anywhere. They could be in DC with their mother and stepfather, listening to them go on and on about the renovations in the upstairs bathroom.”

That makes him smile, at least. “That bad?”

“I tried being out of their house as much as possible,” she admits. “I spent a lot of time on Wells’ couch while he was in class.”

“That’s a little pathetic.”

“It wasn’t so bad.”

“Still, you could have been here, with us.”

“I really couldn’t,” she tells him. “I’d never hear the end of it from my mom. I still get snide remarks about moving back up here with my dad after the divorce and that was almost ten years ago. Can you imagine what would happen if I hung out with him at Christmas, but didn’t go to my mom’s for Thanksgiving?”

“Maybe dead parents aren’t the worst thing in the world,” he says with a shrug and she tosses a peanut at his head. “Okay, probably not. You want a drink? Your usual?”

“Yes, please. And some cheese fries.”

“Yeah,” he says, sliding out of the booth. “I figured.”

Just as he turns to leave, Niylah takes his spot across from her and he turns back. “Sorry I’m late. The bus was running behind. As usual,” Niylah says before looking up at Bellamy. “Could I get a hot chocolate with a little vodka in there? It’s freezing out there.”

“Sure.” He leaves and Clarke watches him for a second before looking back at Niylah.

“Thanks for meeting me,” she says. “I know it’s Saturday and you actually went to this meeting with the clients, but I don’t want to walk in there on Monday with nothing.”

“It’s totally fine,” she promised, pulling her laptop out of her bag. “I emailed you everything just before I left my house, but it’s probably best if we talk through it. You mind if I slide over there so we can see the screen better?”

“Not at all,” Clarke tells her, sliding against the wall so Niylah can slip in next to her. “Seriously, thank you.”

Bellamy drops off their drinks without saying much, but he does get Clarke’s attention enough to raise his eyebrows and nod at Niylah in question. She is sitting awfully close and her arm is strewn across the back of the booth—she can see how it might look like more than just a colleague thing. She shakes her head at Bellamy and he nods, hesitating before going to the kitchen to get Clarke’s fries.

Clarke focuses on what Niylah is telling her, watching the screen as she scrolls through the presentation and the plans for the campaign Clarke will be responsible for doing artwork for, but when Bellamy comes back with the fries, she focuses on him for a second. “Thanks, Bellamy,” she tells him and he stops himself from walking away, reaching for the rag on his shoulder.

“No problem. Save me some,” he says and Niylah looks up at him like he’s crazy.

“Bellamy’s a good friend,” Clarke explains quickly. “He can have as many fries as he wants.”

“Oh.” Niylah turns to look at her and Clarke nods. “That makes sense.”

“Let me know if you guys need anything else,” he tells them, smiling tightly before walking back to the bar.

“He’s kind of cute,” Niylah remarks and Clarke laughs a little. “If I were into guys.”

“He’s a nerd,” Clarke says, shaking her head as she watches him talk to an old man at the end of the bar. Niylah catches her eyes, smiling knowingly and Clarke snaps her attention back to the screen in front of them. “So, what kind of layout are they looking for?”

“Smooth,” Niylah laughs, but goes to the next page. “Very smooth.”

--

Bellamy walks her home after her meeting with Niylah because he was only working the lunch shift and the timing just happens to work out. Or, Clarke hangs out a little longer than necessary while he transitions the bar over to Gina and takes his tips from the day.

“Heading out?” she asks, like it’s a coincidence.

“Yeah, you?”

“Just about to,” she says, locking her tablet. She moved to the bar after Niylah left and started working on some ideas for her new project.

“I’ll wait,” he tells her, coming around to the other side. “Have a good night, Gina.”

“You too.”

“I’m ready now,” Clarke says, slipping her stuff into her work bag. “Night, Gina.”

“Bye, Clarke.”

“You two dated, right?” she asks once they’re outside. She knows the answer, but she has follow-up questions she’d like some clarification on.

“Yeah, last year for a few months,” he answers, zipping up his jacket and pulling a beanie out of the pocket. “Why?”

“You two get along really well for exes.”

“It’s easy.” He pulls the beanie on and looks down at her. “She’s a good person and we get along. Just because we didn’t work out doesn’t mean we can’t be friends.”

“I’ve never done that,” Clarke admits, stuffing her hands into her pockets. “I mean, when I break up with someone I like to get as much distance from them as possible.”

“I have exes like that,” Bellamy says, grabbing her elbow to steer her around a corner, since she wasn’t paying any attention to where they were actually going. “Gina’s just not one of them.”

“Or Raven.” She wasn’t expecting that to come out. At all. And she’s pretty sure Bellamy wasn’t either, by the way he snorts. She also wouldn’t have expected her voice to sound so small when she finally brought it up.

“Raven’s not an ex,” Bellamy clarifies finally. “We didn’t date. We were friends who had sex. Once. Nothing changed after that. Now we’re just friends who happened to have sex with each other. So long ago, I never even think about it. Except when you and Octavia bring it up, apparently.”

Now that they’re talking about it—one on one—maybe she does want his side of the story. She’s never been able to have sex without the emotion. Casual isn’t a Clarke thing. Sometimes, she wishes it could be, but it’s just not. “How did it happen?”

“She’s never told you?” he asks, incredulous.

“I mean, she told me how it was for her,” Clarke admits and he nods, smiling to himself. “And I know where her head was at. I don’t know you like that.”

That startles him to a stop and she turns to look at him when she realizes he’s no longer next to him. “You know what? Never mind. I don’t know you like that, so you don’t owe me an explanation. It’s literally none of my business. I’m sorry.”

“Clarke, it’s fine,” he says, catching up to her. When she doesn’t start walking again, he puts his hand on the small of her back and they start walking together. “Um, you don’t know me like that. I just forgot that for a second.”

“You forgot that we’ve only been friends for, like, four months?” she asks and it’s her turn to be incredulous.

“Kind of.” He shrugs and she realizes they’re outside of her building, which means they passed his and he walked her all the way home. It makes her feel warm inside. “I think it’s because we knew each other when we were kids, you know?”

“Makes sense.” He nods and they stand there for a few seconds, just looking at each other.

“I’d just broken up with this girl,” he says and it takes her a second to realize he’s going back to the Raven thing.

“You don’t need-“

“I know,” he says, reaching up to pull his beanie away from his eyes and really look at her. “It’s fine, Princess. This is how you get to know me, right?”

“There are other ways that don’t involve talking about your sex life.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

Clarke laughs and looks up at her living room window. “Come in?” she asks and he nods, grinning a little. She smiles back before turning away to open the front door and climb the steps to her third floor apartment. “Want a drink?”

She takes her jacket off and waits for him to do the same so she can hang them up on the hooks next to the front door. “Sure,” he says, handing her his jacket. He tosses his hat on the table and toes off his shoes. “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

She leaves him in his living room and grabs two beers out of her fridge. This was not how she expected her night to go. She knew Raven was busy studying and Jasper and Monty have some of their college friends over to play videogames and Octavia and Lincoln are still out of town, visiting his family. She was kind of just expecting a quiet night in, by herself. A quiet night in with Bellamy isn’t the worst thing that could happen, though.

She finds him on her couch, socked feet stretched in front of him. He looks comfortable there. It’s a nice picture, honestly. She sets down their drinks and curls into the opposite corner of the couch. “Seriously, just tell me your favorite color and we can pretend I never pried into your history with my best friend.”

“It’s red.”

“Blue,” Clarke offers her own and he nods.

“My girlfriend cheated on me,” he says suddenly. “Not long after my mom died. And Finn had just cheated on her. We were already becoming friends. We were alone and pretty buzzed. It was fun, but it was more important to keep her as a friend, especially since she was living with O at the time.”

“You two make me a little jealous, honestly,” Clarke admits quietly.

“How so?” He’s not defensive about it. He sounds genuinely curious.

“You replaced me as her best friend,” she explains and he nods slowly, just once. “And I know that’s not fair. I left and I had Wells. I’m glad she’s had you.”

“You’re all she talked about after the two of you would talk on the phone or emailed,” he promises and it makes Clarke smile. “I didn’t replace you.”

“Yeah,” she says, taking a drink, followed by a deep breath. “I was jealous of her, too, though. Fitting in so easily with you.”

His brow creases and she shrugs. It’s a big thing for her to admit. She’s actually a little proud of herself for bringing it up at all. “I’m going to need you to elaborate on that.”

“I knew you first,” she tells him and his face relaxes, but only just slightly. He’s still confused. “In high school, I didn’t have the guts to reconnect with you. You were older and you weren’t around that much by the time Octavia and I were super close again. But you and Raven hit it off so quickly and I was so far away. I never got the chance to be your friend. I was just that annoying princess.”

“It took time for me and Raven,” he insists. “Her freshman year and my senior year we had a class together, you know? And she always hung out with Octavia—and I guess you—after I graduated. They were still friends when they started college. It wasn’t until I refused to go to my own apartment, to avoid Miller and Bryan always fighting, that we became friends.”

Clarke obviously knows most of this. It’s kind of comforting to realize that he really didn’t notice her in high school, not like he was pretending and being an ass. He genuinely didn’t pick up on the fact that she sat in his classroom every day and stared at him for half a year. It’s also a bit of a slap to the face, but it’s nothing she’s not used to. She spent four years knowing exactly where she stood in Bellamy’s life.

But here they are now.

“Well, I’m glad we’re friends now. Even if you think it’s weird.”

“Yeah, but a good weird. Remember?”

It’s not hard being Bellamy’s friend, even after admitting to herself that she has romantic feelings for him. She’s way more aware of him now—how they’re sitting just slightly closer together than when she first sat down, how he’s looking at her with a newfound understanding—but that’s not a bad thing.

“A good weird,” she agrees. “If you don’t have anything else to do tonight, I was just going to watch Netflix and order a pizza. Interested?”

“Definitely.”

--

“Okay,” Octavia says from Clarke’s couch. She’s on her back, with her head hanging over the front of the couch and her legs in the air against the backrest. “Should I get him an engagement ring?”

“You want to propose to your brother?” Raven asks, laughing out loud, from where she’s perched on the arm of the couch.

“We’ve moved on,” Clarke explains, her back against the armrest and toes tucked under Octavia’s back. “She wants to propose to Lincoln.”

“You totally should,” Raven says. “But I wouldn’t be so sure he’s not already planning on proposing to you. I’ve been expecting it for the last year.”

“He knows better than to propose to me on Christmas. That’s why it would be a good surprise.”

“Go for it, then,” Clarke tells her and Octavia nods her head back and forth, thinking on it.

“I hate Christmas shopping,” Raven tells them, sliding onto the couch on the other side of Octavia’s upside down body. “I’m just getting you guys a Starbucks gift card. Merry Christmas.”

“Clarke, what are you getting Bellamy?” Clarke looks over at Octavia as she swings around to sit like a normal person. “What?” she asks, once she’s right side up.

“I wasn’t planning on getting him anything,” Clarke admits. “Should I? Does everyone get each other gifts?”

“No,” they both say, but they’re both watching her closely.

“But you and Bellamy have been hanging out a lot,” Octavia says slowly. “Here, at Starbucks, at the bar. Without us. So, I don’t know, I thought you guys might be… at the gift giving stage.”

She says this carefully, like it’s not quite what she was planning on saying, but changed her mind when she noticed Clarke’s look of horror. Raven is no help, chuckling loudly. “We don’t hang out that much.”

“According to him, you do. A couple of times a week, apparently.”

Clarke thinks back over the past two weeks, since he walked her home from the bar the night she got back from DC. Octavia’s right. They’ve been meeting up a lot after work, before Bellamy needs to get grading done. Or, hell, even while he’s grading, they’ll meet up at Starbucks and work separately at the same table, splitting snacks and taking breaks to talk about what’s going on their lives. It’s been really nice. And she’s definitely into him now. And she thinks there’s a chance he’s into her, too.

“It’s not a big deal,” she lies to Octavia and Raven laughs again, nearly spitting out the wine in her mouth. “Shut up.”

“High school Clarke would be all over this,” Octavia says, laughing, and Clarke cringes.

Of course Octavia knew about her crush on Bellamy. She was one of her best friends and she didn’t want to keep something so small and stupid from her. If she’d found out from anyone else, it wouldn’t have ended well. Clarke wanted to avoid that. And she did, by telling Octavia the truth in their sophomore year, right before Bellamy moved in with Miller.

He was still at home, doing construction during the day and taking classes at night. He’d just come home to shower before heading into the city for class and stopped to remind Octavia to take the trash out to the street before going to bed. He was in and out without so much as a glance in Clarke’s direction, but she couldn’t look away from him. So, she knew she had to tell Octavia that she had a tiny crush on her brother, but she made it into a joke, and Octavia shrugged, saying she was used to it. Apparently, most of her female friends had crushes on Bellamy. She didn’t care. Clarke wished she could be so nonchalant about it.

“That was a long time ago,” Clarke said, taking a sip of her wine, avoiding Octavia’s disbelieving eyes.

“You should go for it,” Octavia tells her slowly. “He’s clearly into you or he wouldn’t have mentioned anything to me. He wanted my blessing.”

“Did you give it to him?” Raven asks before grabbing a handful of chips.

“Well, since he didn’t come right out and ask for it, at first I just told him it was nice they were friends. I told him that Clarke is one of the best people I know and he agreed. And when he looked like he wanted to ask more, I told him she was a catch and he’d be stupid not to do something about it.”

“Oh my god,” Clarke whines pulling a throw pillow over her face.

“Clarke, you’re not in high school anymore,” Octavia reminds her, ripping the pillow out of her hand. “He likes you. You like him. You both clearly need motivation to do something about it. This is me motivating you. That was me motivating him.”

“What did he say?” Raven asks and Clarke whines again. She hates this conversation. She hates her friends. It’d be so much easier if she hated Bellamy.

“He just harrumphed and changed the subject.”

“Sounds like Bellamy.”

“He’s an idiot,” Octavia agrees. “But he’s Clarke’s idiot now.”

“He’s not my anything,” Clarke says quickly. “Except my friend. Nothing has changed.”

“She doesn’t want to screw up their friendship,” Raven explains to Octavia and she nods. “She doesn’t realize how good Bellamy is at not letting that happen.”

“Yeah, look at him and Gina.”

“We talked about that already. And him and Raven. But I’m not them. I have never stayed friends with an ex.”

“But you’ll stay friends with us,” Octavia reasons. “And so will he. You’ll be forced to stay friends with him. Or, at least, stay friendly.”

“All I want for Christmas is for you to tell Bellamy how you feel,” Raven tells her and Octavia nods excitedly, agreeing. “That’s all I ask. We can also count it as a present for me finishing my first semester of grad school.”

“That’s what we’re celebrating now,” Clarke reminds her, throwing her hands up in her living room. She and Octavia planned a lowkey girls’ night for her, because she’s been so stressed about finals.

“You didn’t get me a present. This is what I want.”

“She’s not asking for much, Clarke,” Octavia tells her and she rolls her eyes. “I’m proposing to Lincoln. The least you can do is tell Bellamy you’re madly in love with him.”

“The least,” Raven agrees.

Clarke really hates her friends.

--

As much as she hates her friends, they’re probably right. She should probably tell Bellamy how she feels, even if it’s just to move on if he doesn’t actually feel the same way. And, if he doesn’t, she needs to move on and get over it. Telling him is the only way to do this.

She just needs to figure out when that will happen. The two of them haven’t talked much since they were both bombarded by Octavia. She can’t blame him for not reaching out. She knows why she isn’t. She’s just not ready. She can only hope that’s his reasoning, too. Better that than not feeling anything for her and just trying to avoid an awkward conversation.

“Hey.”

Clarke turns around to see Miller walking toward her. She’s standing in the frozen food aisle of the grocery store near her apartment after work on a Friday. She wasn’t really expecting to see anyone she knew.

“Hey, Miller,” she says with an easy smile, letting the freezer door fall shut. “What’s up?”

“Just grabbing some food for the weekend,” he tells her, reaching into another freezer to grab a bag of frozen vegetables. “Any plans tonight? Jasper and Monty are coming over to watch movies. You should come over.”

“Really?” she asks him, and he shrugs—slightly awkward. She and Miller get along fine, but they’re not friends in the traditional sense. They’ve never hung out one on one before—and they still wouldn’t be in this case—but him even asking is new.

“Yeah,” he insists, switching his basket to his other hand. “Bellamy’s making dinner and we’re watching a movie. I know Raven’s busy this whole weekend, so… you should come over.”

“Okay,” she agrees, even though she’s not ready to deal with the Bellamy thing. She can hang out with him with her other friends. That’s as normal as it comes for them.

“Cool.” He smiles tightly. “7:30.”

“See you then.”

He nods once and turns around to leave without another word and she finishes shopping and checks out without seeing him again.

By the time she’s pulling into her parking spot, it’s already 7 o’clock, so she rushes to unpack her groceries and get changed. Hanging out with her friends—Bellamy or not—means she doesn’t need to try and look good. Leggings and a comfy sweater are all she needs.

She leaves her apartment and walks the couple of blocks to their building. It’s way colder than it was when she left work, and it’s been dark for hours, so she power walks there to keep warm and make it quick.

It’s not until she’s knocking on their door that she feels nervous. It’s stupid. She shouldn’t be nervous to see any of her friends, including Bellamy.

“Come in,” he says when he opens the door and she follows him inside. No one else is there, not even Miller.

“Where are the guys?” she asks, still following him into the kitchen. She sheds off her coat and lays it gently on the back of a chair.

“I don’t know,” he tells her, finally stopping to turn and look at her. “Miller went to get them ten minutes ago. They probably got distracted, watching YouTube or something.”

“Okay.” She shrugs and sits down at their table while he goes to open the oven and check on whatever’s in there. She’s not sure if it’s just her, but it feels awkward. She was trying to avoid this by not telling him, but apparently the not talking about it is making it worse. So, she says, “Did you know I used to have a crush on you in high school?”

By the way the oven door slams shut—just a little too loudly—she knows she surprised him. “Um, no,” he tells her, turning slowly to look at her again. “I didn’t even know you paid attention to me in high school.”

“Yeah, you did,” she says and his brow furrows. “I told you how I felt about you replacing me with Raven. I told you I wanted to reconnect with you in high school.”

He nods at that before slowly sliding into the seat across from her. “Well, I didn’t know then. And I didn’t think that meant you had a crush on me.”

His voice is teasing, a little, but he still sounds tense. “That doesn’t mean I had a crush on you,” she amends, “but it does mean I paid attention to you. I just also happened to have a huge crush on you.”

“Huh,” he hums, tenser than ever, and he looks at his socks. “You learn something new every day.”

“Yeah,” she agrees with a laugh. She suddenly feels so much more confident than whenever she thought about this conversation before. Maybe seeing him so uncomfortable is helping, because it means something. And she hopes it means what she thinks it does. “It’s different now, though.”

She can hear Bellamy swallow, even though he won’t look up at her. She can also hear his intake of breath, before he starts talking. “That’s what I keep telling everyone,” he says quietly and she laughs again. It’s enough to get him looking at her again. Finally. And he looks betrayed, which just makes her laugh again.

“I’m sorry,” she says quickly, covering her mouth with her hand. “This is a big deal for me,” she tells him, lowering her hand as he nods. “It’s different now because I know you. I don’t just like the idea of you, like it’s some fantasy. I like… you. And, not just as a friend.”

His smile is quick and relieved before he moves to the chair beside her and slides closer. “That’s really good news,” he says and she can’t keep the huge, relieved smile off her own face. “I didn’t want to fuck this up.”

“Neither did I. I’ve been avoiding thinking about this since I left for DC,” she admits and he nods for her to continue. “I like being your friend and I didn’t want to tell you this and lose that.”

“I know what you mean,” he promises. When his hand envelopes hers on the table, her heart definitely skips a beat. “My sister is relentless, though.”

“Believe me, I know. So is Raven.”

“I figured,” he laughs. “I was working up to this, you know. It was getting harder—not talking to you about it. I want to talk to you about everything, so this was really hard.”

“Good,” she says, and her cheeks are starting to hurt from all the smiling, but she can’t stop. “I want you to tell me these things. Or everything. That works too.”

“Okay.” He nods to himself before leaning his head toward hers. She leans in, too, without even intending to. She can’t help it. She needs to close this gap. Finally. She’s going to kiss Bellamy Blake.

“Okay,” she echoes, just before his lips land on hers. It starts off as a soft kiss, all lips—but then Bellamy’s hand inches up Clarke’s thigh and she presses herself closer, the kiss deepening until-

“Finally!”

They jump apart, Bellamy on his feet in seconds, rubbing a hand over his face. “You’ve been gone for twenty minutes and this is when you decide to show up?” he asks Miller, who is now flanked by Jasper and Monty. All three of them are smiling like kids on Christmas morning.

“Hi, Clarke,” Miller says, with a slight wave.

“Hey, guys,” she says before looking back up at Bellamy. He’s already watching her and all she needs to do is put her hand on her jacket for him to speak up again.

“Dinner’s in the oven,” he tells the other three. Then, he reaches a hand out for Clarke and she takes it, grabbing her jacket with her free hand. “I’ll be back later.”

“No rush,” Miller calls after them, but Bellamy just grabs his own jacket and drags Clarke into the hallway.

“Sorry about that,” he says sheepishly, letting go of her hand just long enough for them to put their jackets on. “I should have known they were coming.”

“I feel like it needed to happen that way,” she admits, and he laughs. “I mean, Raven’s going to be pissed it wasn’t her, but she probably already knows.”

“She definitely already knows,” he promises as they walk out onto the street. “We didn’t have to leave, I guess,” he realizes suddenly, and she squeezes his hand.

“No, I’m glad we did.” She gently tugs on his hand and he starts leading them toward her apartment.

They walk quickly, but quietly, as if they’re saving up all their words until they’re alone again—away from strangers and friends alike. They don’t even talk until they’re inside of her apartment and their jackets are hung up.

“I really like you,” Bellamy tells her, crowding her against the front door, but not touching her yet. She’s the one to reach up and put her arms around his neck to bring him even closer. “I needed to just say that, in case it wasn’t clear.”

“It was very clear,” she tells him. “I like you, too. A lot.”

“It’s not so weird anymore,” he tells her quietly, the tip of his nose running along her jaw. She should be embarrassed by how deeply she’s breathing, but she can’t find it in her to care. She’s so happy. “This feels right.”

“It is right,” she promises and his smile is blinding before he kisses her again.

--

After a week of texting nonstop during work hours, spending every free second together before and after, and the absolute best sex of Clarke’s life, she has a hard time remembering why she waited so long to tell Bellamy the truth about how she felt.

“Are you sure I can’t come over later?” Bellamy asks that morning, they’re curled around each other in bed, coffees forgotten on the nightstand already. She just can’t stop kissing him.

“I’m sure,” she tells him, but kisses him again to lessen the blow. “I’m picking Wells up from the airport after work. We’ll see you at the party tomorrow, though.”

He kisses her, rolling her onto her back and pressing her into the mattress and her legs come up and around his waist as if on their own. “I can sneak in after he’s asleep,” he tries, before burying his face in her neck. “Come on, Clarke.”

“Bellamy,” she laughs pushing at his chest to get his lips far enough away she won’t be tempted to kiss him again. “I’ll see you tomorrow. I need to get to work.”

“You should have taken a vacation day today,” he says before burying his face again. “Or, all companies should have a winter break.”

“We can’t all be teachers,” she reminds him, running a soothing hand down the back of his head. “Go home and play all the videogames you want. Hang out with Raven.”

He groans, but finally rolls onto his side of the bed. Bellamy Blake has his own side of the bed. In her bed. If 14-year-old Clarke could see her now…

“I’ll see you tomorrow night,” she promises one last time, rolling over to kiss him again, but jumps back quickly so he can’t suck her in again.

She leaves him in bed while she goes to shower and when she comes back, his side of the bed is empty. Once she’s dried off and dressed, she wanders into the kitchen and finds him there with a coffee in travel mug for her.

“Thank you,” she tells him, taking it from him. “You want to walk me out?”

“I guess so,” he says, and she knows he’s being dramatic. They went years without seeing or speaking or even thinking about each other. They can make it a day and a half. Once they’re on the sidewalk, he grabs her free hand and pulls her against his chest. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“You will,” she promises, and she stands on her toes to kiss him, lingering there a couple of seconds longer than she normally would on the sidewalk.

“And then you’re gone until Tuesday.” He sighs dramatically, and she kisses him again, burrowing a little deeper into his chest.

“I think you’ll be okay,” she teases, and he smiles.

“I know.” He kisses her, one hand tangling in her hair to keep her against him for as long as he can get away with. “This is just going really well. I don’t want to mess up our groove.”

“We haven’t spent a night apart in a week and we’ve only been dating for a week,” she reminds him. “This is good for us. It’s going to suck, but it will be okay.”

“As long as you know it’s going to suck.”

“Believe me, I do.”

He kisses her one last time and they silently agree to move away from each other. He lifts a hand to wave, but doesn’t say anything else as he turns to walk back to his apartment. She watches him until he’s at the end of the street and turns to walk toward the T stop.

It really is pathetic, how deeply she doesn’t want to spend a night away from him. It’s like she’s been waiting her whole life for this to happen—with Bellamy, specifically—and she doesn’t want it to end. She knows it’s not ending just because they have to spend a few nights apart, but it feels monumental, somehow. It’s like the first hurdle in their relationship and it’s such a minor one, but everything with Bellamy feels major. It’s Bellamy.

So, when she’s picked Wells up and squeezed him as tightly as possible, she tries to sound nonchalant when he asks how things are going with the two of them. “They’re good.”

“Good? Raven says she hasn’t seen you in over a week,” Wells says, laughing at the blush creeping up her cheeks. “You don’t answer texts after 6 o’clock anymore because you can’t stop making out with your boyfriend.”

“I do too! I answer every single one of your texts.”

“Okay,” he relents, “but it takes you a hell of a lot longer.”

“He’s a good kisser. What do you want from me?”

“Well, thank you for hanging out with me tonight. I know it’s going to be hard.”

“It’s going to be fine,” she says, more to convince herself.

The rest of the drive, they talk about law school and Clarke’s work projects. She tells him about Octavia’s plan to propose to Lincoln on Christmas morning. He tells her about his dad’s plans for Christmas, which apparently includes a stop in Times Square, which makes them both roll their eyes.

By the time they get to her apartment building, they’re ready to eat and veg out with a movie. She’s missed him and it’s only been a month since Thanksgiving. She likes having him on her couch again, like when they shared a couch and an apartment sophomore through senior year.

“Your boyfriend’s a real dick when he’s grumpy,” Raven says as she storms into Clarke’s apartment. Clarke and Wells look up from where they’re slumped on the couch, and then look at each other, sharing a surprised look. “Hey, Wells.” She hugs him and then slips in between them.

“Hey, Raven,” he says, throwing an arm around her shoulder. “What’s going on with Bellamy?”

“You’d think they broke up based on how whiny he’s been all day.” She rolls her eyes and Clarke elbows her in the ribs. “Seriously, can you just text him and tell him you love him and miss him.”

“No,” Clarke says, huffing out a laugh.

“But you do,” Wells says slowly, making sure she’s aware just how obvious she is.

“No, I don’t,” she insists and Wells and Raven exchange a look. “I like him. A lot. And I miss him. But I don’t love him. We’re not there yet.”

“Listen,” Raven breathes, turning onto her side to look at Clarke, “You do. I’ve been here the whole time. I’ve been here since high school. If this isn’t love, I don’t know what is.”

“It’s the honey moon phase,” Clarke says calmly, even though she’s pretty sure she might throw up. Love seems a little insane, this early on. “You don’t know it’s love until the honey moon phase is over.”

“I know it’s love.”

“No, you don’t,” Clarke insists. “I’m glad you’re here, but shut up.”

“I’m glad you’re here, too,” Wells tells Raven and she smiles up at him before settling against his side. Clarke catches Wells’ eye, but he very obviously avoids her.

--

“You’re still into Raven a little, huh?” Clarke asks as she and Wells walk to Bellamy and Miller’s the next night.

“No, I just missed her,” he tells her. “Seriously. It’s good being able to see a high school crush and not fall madly in love with them right away.”

“I’m not in love with him,” she says again. “But it worked out pretty well for me.”

“Me too,” Wells insists. “Really. She’s my friend, just like Jasper and Monty and Octavia, who I will be just as excited to see tonight.”

“I believe you.” And she does. It’s nice he’s not pining away for Raven. He had the added bonus of being her friend, as well as having a serious crush on her. Thankfully, Clarke wasn’t tortured quite that badly, staring at Bellamy from afar. “Do you think you and Bellamy will be okay?”

“If he’s not an angry asshole anymore, we shouldn’t have any problems,” he promises.

“He’s not angry.” They walk into his building and can hear music coming down the stairwell. “He’s kind of grumpy and has that serious teacher thing going on sometimes, but he’s not an asshole. And he knows how important you are to me.”

“Then, it should be fine.”

Clarke walks into the apartment first, without knocking, and Bellamy is in front of her in a second. “Hey,” he says quietly, looking down at her like he hasn’t seen her in a week.

“Hi, loser,” she laughs before pressing a kiss to his lips. “You look good. Nice tie.”

“I know how you feel about the ties.” He grins and kisses her again before looking over at Wells. Clarke looks between them, but focuses on Bellamy a little longer, hoping to make sure she’s nice. “Hey, Wells,” he says, holding out his hand that isn’t around Clarke’s waist. “Welcome home.”

“Not quite home anymore,” he says, but shakes his hand anyway. “But thanks. And thanks for letting me crash your party.”

“Glad you could make it,” Bellamy says with an easy smile. He nods toward the kitchen where the rest of their friends are gathered and the three of them walk in together.

“Oh, this is weird!” Octavia says, looking at Clarke and Bellamy still tangled together. “It’s good, but it’s so weird.”

“You haven’t even seen them kiss yet,” Jasper mumbles and Bellamy slaps the back of his head.

“That’s weird,” Miller agrees, dodging the kick aimed at his ankle from Clarke.

“Well, congratulations on being weird together,” Octavia says, coming over to squeeze them into a hug. “Finally.”

“What do you mean finally?” Bellamy asks and Octavia pulls away just to roll her eyes up at him. “She only moved back five months ago.”

“It’s been over eighteen years in the making, though,” Wells reasons and Octavia nods along.

“At least eight,” Raven says with a shrug, but she hands Bellamy and Clarke beers to keep them from yelling at her. “For Clarke.”

“No,” Clarke insists to the group before looking at Bellamy. “That’s not true. We started fresh five months ago. This is new.”

“Exactly,” Bellamy agrees. He kisses her quickly and they can hear Octavia making a gagging sound from where she’s seated on Lincoln’s lap across the room. Bellamy flips her off and kisses Clarke again.

“What’s for dinner?” Clarke asks, finally tearing herself away from Bellamy to hop onto the counter next to Jasper.

“Lasagna’s in the oven,” Miller answers proudly. “I made it.”

“His first time making Christmas dinner,” Bellamy explains, shaking his head with a smile. He steps to the other side of the kitchen and leans against the counter next to Clarke.

Octavia gets up to check the food in the oven and Wells walks up to Jasper and Monty to give them hugs and say hi.

“Oh my god,” Raven says, from her spot at the table. “I’m the outsider here. Me and Lincoln.”

“I’m definitely the outsider here,” Wells argues, looking around the room.

“No,” Raven insists, shaking her head. “All of you on that side of the kitchen grew up together. We,” she says, gesturing between herself and Lincoln, “didn’t come until much later. I don’t like this feeling.”

“Being the outsider’s never fun,” Clarke agrees. “But you’re not an outsider, weirdo. And neither is Lincoln. Or Wells.”

“Still kind of an outsider,” he says. “I’m okay with it.”

“Wells, are you still mad that Bellamy punched you in the face that time?” Octavia asks before sitting back down on Lincoln’s lap.

“It was a dick move,” Monty says. “No offense.”

“None taken,” Bellamy says quickly. “It was. Sorry, man.”

“It was a long time ago,” Wells says graciously and Clarke smiles at him. “Water under the bridge.”

“Thanks.”

Dinner begins shortly after, served by Bellamy, since Miller cooked. It’s fun—especially with Wells there. He hasn’t been back to Boston much since college, either, since his dad moved to New York City before their freshman year ended. He’s not nearly as uncomfortable as he made Clarke believe he would be, which is nice. And he’s getting along with Bellamy, which is really nice.

Everyone helps clean up after and Bellamy hands them all their personalized stocking cookie before they leave. “I didn’t think you were serious about this,” Clarke says, tracing her name on the cookie. He even made Wells one.

“He takes his cookies seriously,” Raven scoffs, biting hers without so much as a look at her name.

“You’re such a teacher,” Clarke teases. Bellamy shrugs and kisses her.

“It is weird,” Raven hums from behind them.

“Well, get used to it,” Bellamy warns. “Now everyone get out of my house.”

“You’re not coming over?” Wells ask in disbelief.

“No, I am,” Bellamy laughs, “Just not until I get the text message telling me you’re asleep.”

“God, you guys are gross,” Octavia groans.

“Again, you should get used to it.”

“Let’s go,” Clarke says, lacing her arm through Wells’. “I’ll text you later.”

“Later,” Bellamy promises, guiding her into the hallway with a hand on her lower back.

Clarke and Wells walk outside flanked by Raven, Octavia, and Lincoln and the five of them stop on the sidewalk. “Merry Christmas,” Octavia says, hugging everyone but Lincoln goodbye. “I’ll see you when you get back. It was good to see you, Wells. Come back more.”

“I’ll try,” he says, hugging her back before moving to hug Raven goodbye.

Clarke makes her rounds, too. Ending with Raven, who squeezes her harder than anyone else. “So, you got your Christmas wish. I did something about Bellamy.”

“Next Christmas, I expect a real present,” Raven says and Clarke laughs. “Merry Christmas, guys.”

Clarke and Wells walk back to her apartment, heads down to avoid the snowflakes that started falling while they were at Bellamy’s.

“That was fun,” Wells says once they’re inside and warm. “I’m glad this was the only time I could fly in.”

“I am, too. It worked out really well.”

“You know that Bellamy could have come back with us, right? I’m just going to pass out on the couch.”

“Yeah, but he’s not happy with the way we cleaned up,” Clarke promises. “He’ll be re-wiping counters and re-loading the dishwasher for a little while.”

“Who would have ever thought that Bellamy cared that much about how to load a dishwasher?”

“Not me. But, that’s Bellamy for you. Like I said, he’s such a teacher. And kind of a mom. He cooks dinner for Jasper and Monty at least once a week. It was probably torture to hand that over to Miller for this dinner. He’s nothing like I thought he would be.”

“No,” Wells agrees, shaking his head. “He grew into a pretty decent guy. I bet it still hurts when he punches someone, though.”

“I’m sorry my boyfriend punched you.”

“Yeah, me too,” he laughs, leaning into hug her. “Text him. Tell him to come over whenever.”

“Thanks. Goodnight, Wells.”

“Night, Clarke.”

She leaves him in the living room to get changed and relaxed and closes her bedroom door to get changed herself. When she’s done, she texts Bellamy.

Her: Come over whenever. Wells has given us his blessing.

Bellamy: Be there in 10

Clarke smiles and goes back to the living room to let Wells know that Bellamy is, in fact, on his way over. He’s nearly asleep already. “Love you,” she whispers.

“Love you,” he mumbles, turning to face the backrest. “Keep it down, okay? I know how loud you can be.”

“You miss living with me.”

“I don’t miss hearing you have sex.”

“Fair enough.”

She unlocks the door and texts Bellamy again.

Her: Lock the door before you come into my room. And Wells told us we had to be quiet.

Bellamy: Think you can control yourself?

Her: I’m willing to find out

She’s scrolling through Facebook on her phone, looking at the pictures Octavia has already posted from dinner, when Bellamy walks into her room. He’s already lost his jacket and his shoes, but he’s still wearing the tie.

“I may have overreacted,” he tells her, resting back on his side of the bed. “Yesterday wasn’t that bad. We’ll make it until Tuesday.”

“Yeah, I know.” She laughs and tosses her phone onto the nightstand before curling into his side. His arm comes around her back and pulls her closer. “Thanks for coming over, though. I missed this.”

“Hey,” he says softly, rolling onto his side so they’re looking at each other. “I’m sorry I didn’t notice you in high school.”

“Bellamy, it’s fine. You were 18. I had zero chance with you, even if you did notice me.”

“Yeah, but we could have been friends. I was a dick.”

“High school sucks for everyone and I knew enough from Octavia to know it was the same for you. It’s not like I’ve been pining for you for the last eight and a half years. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“Okay.” He still doesn’t sound convinced, so she kisses him slowly.

“It worked out. You fell for me without knowing about my embarrassing crush on you. I prefer it that way.”

“Yeah,” he laughs, fingers tangling in her hair. Her fingers curl around his tie. “I also didn’t miss you when you were in college. I know how it sucked for Raven.”

“Well, you don’t really need to worry about missing me anymore,” she reminds him, tugging gently on his tie. “Apparently, we can’t even spend two days apart.”

Bellamy sighs and rest his forehead against hers. She’s not sure how it all feels so natural between them, so quickly. Their friendship before getting together really helped them get over the awkward stages of a new relationship, but she doesn’t want to even think about them breaking up. She can’t imagine how badly it would hurt if they did.

“Just talk to me if you ever plan on moving to DC again,” he asks her and she smiles.

“I have no plans to go back to DC,” she promises. “I can’t say I’ll stay here forever, but I can promise I won’t be going anywhere without you if we’re still together.”

“Good.”

When he kisses her, she throws her leg over his hip and rolls him onto his back, so she’s on top of him. “I think it’s safe to start calling Boston home.”

“I knew we’d win.” He grins and Clarke laughs, leaning in to kiss him again. When he sits up, to kiss her even harder, he slides his hands up her ribcage, bringing her shirt with them. “How’d you get this one?” he asks her, running his thumb over the scar on the side of her stomach.

“You don’t remember?” Bellamy shakes his head and she runs the tips of her fingers up his right forearm, until she feels a scar on his elbow. “I got it when you got this one.”

“When you fell out of the tree?”

“And you tried to catch me.” She had been climbing out of the treehouse in Bellamy and Octavia’s backyard when she missed a branch and fell. She got scratched pretty badly on the way down, by another branch, and Bellamy tried to catch her, but they both ended up falling onto the ground. He fell onto a root, cutting his elbow. “Always trying to be a hero.”

“See? I wasn’t that mean to you.”

“You were so mad at me after that!” They both laugh and she kisses him again, pressing him into her pillows. “I like that we have history, though.”

“I like what’s happening now, too.”

“You think we’ll like whatever happens in the future?”

“I have a pretty good feeling about it, Princess.”