Sunday:

Brunch 10:00 (ugh so early)

Krav Maga 12:30-3:00

Dinner with Bell 5:30 (💛💛💛)

Monday:

School 8:00-3:00 (meh)

Soccer 5:00-7:00

Tuesday:

School 8:00-3:00 (meh)

French Tutor 3:30-5:00 (helllll yes)

Soccer 7:00-9:00

Wednesday:

School 8:00-2:00 (early dismissal yeahh!)

Socc-

"Octavia!"

With a snap of her pencil lead, Octavia looked up from her desk, brow furrowed. Clarke stood above her, hands at her hips, foot tapping the ground.

"What?"

"That's all you can say? 'What?'" Clarke threw her hands in the air, exasperated.

Octavia's chair made an awful screech as she stood up. "What do you want me to say? That I am ultra excited to go down to that god-awful party your mom is throwing?"

"No! I want you to apologize for abandoning me, for leaving me with my mom by myself at that god-awful party she is throwing," Clarke responded as she picked up Octavia's planner. After sifting through some pages, a grin formed on her a face.

"You know what? That dinner party can wait. Why have you circled literally every Tuesday and Thursday in your planner until the year 2050?"

Octavia snatched her planner from Clarke's hands. "That's not important. Was it important, however, is that you are wasting a perfectly good designer dress and a $120 hairstyle on gossiping with me. We need to get back downstairs." She began to lead Clarke out of her room.

With a snort, Clarke rolled her eyes. "Exactly how I want to spend my Saturday night," she said, hooking her arm to Octavia's.

"Trust me, I can think of much worse ways," Octavia replied, laughing as they circled down the spiral staircase. "Maybe like standing in the same room as you and Bellamy?"

Clarke threw her head back, barking out a laugh. "Ha! Yes, I can agree with that."

The next few moments were a comfortable silence, both girls' heels clicking against the hardwood floor. The muffled noise of old-people party music grew louder as they approached the french doors that led to the Griffin Manor's extensive backyard. Octavia could feel her heartbeat pound harder and harder with every footstep.

Spinning around, Octavia spun around to face Clarke. "Can we be real for a second?"

Clarke blinked in surprised, but nodded without a second thought. "Of course, Octavia. What is it?"

"It's just…" she trailed off, brushing Clarke's bangs from her face. She avoided Clarke's pointed stare, until Clarke grabbed her hands.

"Octavia, come on."

"Okay. It's just, I love your mom, and am ever grateful for her…"

"But?..." Clarke lead her on.

"But she drives me crazy and I hate her!" Octavia whined, stomping her foot.

Clarke laughed again. "It's okay, let it out girl," she swooped her arm around Octavia's waist, pulling her through the doors.

Immediately the light of the setting sun pierced the girl's eyes, blinding them before they could take in the scene before them. As they stepped down a stair, Octavia could see the dozens of people: business men, well-known doctors, local politicians, all schmoozing around, trying to climb their way up the social ladder in an attempt to better their own pathetic, dry lives.

It was almost as disgusting as the beautiful hedges that enclosed the party within its maze. In the corner, a string quartet was isolated in its own world, adding to the almost-but-not-quite awkward atmosphere that felt like sandpaper on Octavia's skin. Lamp posts gleamed against the darkened sky, lights connecting one to the other creating a fairy-tale affect. Many long tables draped in cloth were covered in an assortment of foods, drinks, and decorations that must have cost a fortune. Disturbingly small tables were spread both expertly and strategically round the remaining lawn to serve as depositories to abandoned drinks.

Everything looked perfect, and it made Octavia's stomach wretch. The feeling got worse when Abby Griffin's arm started waving in the air, shouting at the girls.

"Oh, Octavia! Clarke, sweetie! Come meet City Councilman Baxter," she yelled, hitching up her floor-length deep brown dress as to not trip over her six-inch heels.

"I swear, I feel like a show dog at these events," Octavia hissed to Clarke, as they approached Abby. "Ever since child protective services split Bell and me, I have been nothing but grateful for you and your mother taking me in. I know your mother had nothing but kindness in her heart, but why does she need to show me off all the time?

"You know it was hard for both of us when my dad died," Clarke's voice dropped as they got close to Abby's enthusiastic face. "She needed to put her energy into something besides work, and she is proud of who you have become."

"Who I've become?" Octavia repeated, taking a small sandwich from a server that passes by. "I'd like to think that I would be who am no matter what my living situation was," she said.

"You would have, but in a different sense," Clarke agreed. "There would be no way you could have paid for the martial art lessons, nor the athletic "recommended donations" that everyone knows you have to pay to be on the team, but I know somehow, with your tenacity, you would have found a way to still be the feisty, strong-willed O I know so well."

"You also know I hate it when I can't tell if you are being honest or sarcastic," Octavia said. Before Clarke could respond, Abby finally reached the two.

"Girls, I was worried you would never come back to get the chance to meet Edward here," Abby said. "You know Edward, Octavia had so much pent up energy when I met her! She couldn't contain it until I realized it: she needed an outlet! Voila! Now look at her: captain of the varsity soccer team her sophomore year in high school, and already a medalist in her Krav Maga class!"

Baxter's eyebrows raise as he was obvious impressed with Abby's efforts. Octavia glued a smile to her mouth, morphing into the perfect daughter with ease.

"Yes, all thanks to Abby, I've developed into the strong, intelligent, independent woman I always had inside of me." Octavia ignored Clarke's eye roll in her peripheral vision. "I have really found a calling with soccer; the girls I have met are going to me friends of mine my entire life, I just know it."

"That sounds wonderful, Miss Griffin!" Baxter exclaimed.

Octavia raised a finger. "I'm sorry sir, but that's Miss Blake." The councilman nodded in understand. "Ah, yes. You decided to not change your surname." Octavia could tell he was losing interest as she became more dominant in the conversation. What a sad, sad man. But she wouldn't end this without having the last word. "I am even hoping for the captaincy in lacrosse in the spring. It'll be tough, but I know I have a good chance and it will really help my opportunity to get a scholarship at some high division colleges."

Counsilman Baxter finally seemed interested. "And how are you juggling academics with all of this activity?" He took a sip of some interesting smelling beverage, raising an eyebrow.

Octavia clutched her hand behind her back. "Well, I must admit they are not as impressive as my athletic endeavours," she said. "My GPA does not appreciate the downwards pull of honors chemistry," Octavia joked. The councilman was not amused. He coughed, then turned to Clarke.

"And what about you, Miss Griffin? That is your last name, right?" Clarke looked taken aback at the sudden attention, but being the perfect Clarke Griffin that she was, she recovered at light speed.

"What about me? Oh, nothing as exciting as Octavia," she said, motioning to her friend, trying to shift the spotlight back onto her.

"That's just not true," Abby said, placing a hand on Clarke's bare shoulder. "Clarke has all A's, even with five AP classes, and is on the track on becoming valedictorian at her high school!"

"Mom, please," Clarke said quietly, shoving the tip of her toe into the grass. But Abby kept plowing on.

"She has prospects at many high-ranking schools, especially the Ivy Leagues! I myself am an alum at Yale, and Clarke hopes to follow in my footsteps in the medical field," she gushed.

"How wonderful, Miss Griffin!" The councilman said. "My own daughter is in eighth grade and is currently looking at schools. Do you think you could show her around Ark High any time soon?"

Clarke put on her shining smile. "Of course, Councilman. I am actually getting more into artwork recently, and am signed up for a couple of—"

"Oh Edward, is that Doctor Johnson calling you? I hear that he has quite the ER story!" Abby interjected.

"Really? I must hear it!" In a second Baxter was gone. At once Abby snapped her face to Clarke. Grabbing her by the arm, she pulled her to the side, whisper-shouting at her. Octavia followed quickly.

"Clarke, we talked about this. You're not to mention art at all with these people. You know the plan: Yale, med school, and then a successful career as a doctor."

"No, mom, that's your plan!" Clarke said. "I don't want that anymore. I want to study art and make a career out of it."

"That is completely unreasonable! I can't fathom a way anyone could accomplish a career out of that!"

"Dad did!" Clarke practically yelled, drawing the attention of some party-goers. With Abby's glare, she brought her voice down a little. "You refuse to talk about or even think about Dad! Why are you trying to control my life since you can't control your own?"

The silence between them was deafening. Octavia couldn't pry her eyes away. Movement caught her attention: the lawyer Marcus Kane. He could always split the two of them.

"Abby! Look who I found!" Octavia burst in, all cheery, dragging Kane behind her. He seemed flustered, but once he saw Abby, agreeably followed Octavia's lead.

"Yes, I was just telling her about this interesting new case I am thinking about taking that involves both domestic and professional issues with a family and Azgeda Hospital. I was hoping to get your advice?"

Abby looked at Kane, at Clarke, back to Kane. Her vice grip on Clarke released, leaving marks on her daughter's arm. Octavia could see Clarke step away, hiding her arm around her back, the smile on her face not reaching her eyes.

"Marcus, I would love to help," she said, walking away from Clarke and Octavia. Once they are out of an earshot, Clarke looked at Octavia with gratitude.

"Thank you for doing that," she said. "I know you didn't have to."

"Don't be ridiculous," Octavia said, leading the two to a standing table. She waved down a server, getting them two margaritas.

"O, I don't think you're old enough for this," Clarke warned, nonetheless taking the glass from Octavia's hand.

"Don't be ridiculous!" Octavia simply repeated, taking a swig. Before she could take another one, Clarke swiped the drink from her.

"I'm not. You need to keep your wits about you. Any one of these people could start questioning you about Bellamy, and if not, they still want you to be sharp."

Octavia looked at Clarke, insulted. "I know that! One drink won't do anything. I happen to be very good at making people like me, and I don't need your help at all navigating my life," she spat, turning to leave.

"Octavia, I am only looking out for you," Clarke called after her.

Octavia looked over her shoulder. "Well guess what, Clarke? You don't have to. You're not my sister." With that, she went to join the aristocratic crowd.

How could she mention Bellamy at a time like this? Octavia knew Clarke didn't approve of him, much less like him, but she knew how much he meant to Octavia.

Octavia never knew her dad. Barely knew her mother; Bellamy doesn't talk about it much, but Octavia knows she died of some sort of overdosing. He then raised her for years afterwards. Did an exemplary job of it as well, Octavia would say, if anyone would ever bother to ask her. Taking on job after job to keep the rent paid, to keep her fed, to keep them happy, he worked endlessly and tirelessly, all out of love.

But then one nasty neighbor, probably bitter about some argument that Aurora had with him long ago, called child protective services on the siblings, reporting the minor being taking care of another. When they government workers came, off they took Octavia, Bellamy arguing with everything he had, but it was no use. They stuffed Octavia into a car, and drove away, as Bellamy stood on the raggedy porch, watching the car drive off into the distant sunrise, as another government man kept a hand on his shoulder. Then he took Bellamy away too, to a different location, to keep the siblings separate.

It just so happened that the Griffins, after a terrible loss of Jake Griffin, were looking for a new purpose in life. At least Abby Griffin was. So she decided that she would help children in need of homes, to shelter them. She found Octavia, heard her story, took her in, promising to give her home, take care of her, but also let her be in close contact with her brother, and even provide him with housing near by, which was much more anyone else was offering her. Bellamy wasn't allowed to live with Octavia anymore, as the services feared they would run away together, so Octavia took the opportunity for close proximity eagerly.

Clarke wasn't so keen on this new addition to the family, especially so soon after she had lost her dad. From the second Octavia walked into the gigantic house, she saw Clarke: a small, dainty blond girl, standing at the top of the staircase, one hand on the railing. She was angelesque except for one outstanding feature: her eyes. There was so much resentment was behind her blue eyes. She was a year younger than Bellamy, but still in the same grade, so Octavia thought she would know how to handle her. She was wrong. Clarke was upset of her mom replacing her dad so quickly, even though Abby constantly reassured her that was not the case, that Octavia just needed a place to stay. Clarke never listened to her.

Octavia couldn't have been more grateful, however, even with the constant antipathy radiating from Clarke's body, even as the girl tried to be somewhat welcoming. Octavia had a comfy bed, healthy food, a good relationship with her brother, and she wanted to return the favor to Abby by being a success story. She wanted to be the girl that Abby didn't rescue, but opened doors for Octavia to walk through and become something great. So she tried every day to be a good daughter, and make Abby never regret her choice all those years ago.

Eventually, the two girls finally clicked, bonding over several Disney films in a marathon one school night. Abby had been furious, yelling at them for staying up so late, but the girls just giggled, sprinted to their rooms from the movie room, avoiding Abby's rant.

Clarke seemed to think it was her duty to take care of Octavia after that as well; she would make her lunch, help with homework, keep her in line. And that was just too fucking annoying for Octavia. Should could take care of herself, thank you. Bellamy had taught her that much.

And yet, even with the knowledge that Octavia was fine on her own, and could very much hold her liquor, there was Clarke, still trying to be that overbearing older sister Octavia never wanted.

As she made polite, cringe-worthy conversation with a couple of well-mannered couples around her, Octavia remembered at least she had Tuesdays and Thursdays to stay excited for.

"Can you please pass the salad?"

"Pouvez-vous s'il vous plaît passer la salade."

"Make is a question."

Octavia rolled her eyes. "Pouvez-vous s'il vous plaît passer la salade?"

"Good. 'May you point me to the nearest restroom?'"

"Pouvez-vous s'il vous plaît me diriger vers la salle de bain la plus proche?"

"Mh-hmm," Lincoln hummed, sifting through the pages of the French book. The library was quiet now, as their study session was almost over. People normally cleared out by 4:30. "What type of restaurants do you like?"

"Quel type de restaurant aimez-vous?" Octavia recited.

Lincoln chuckled. He put the book down, making intense eye contact with Octavia. "No, no. I was actually asking you," he said.

Octavia's mouth hung open, not believing this was happening. "Are you serious? You're asking me out on a date?" she squeaked.

Lincoln picked up the textbook hastily, hands shaking. "Well, I was, but if you are not interested, I fully understand… I know that I am probably nothing more than tutor to you-"

"Lincoln, I would love to!" Octavia said with glee, covering one of Lincoln's large hands with her own. They smiled at each other, until a realization dawned upon Octavia. Her head fell on top of their intertwined hands, and she groaned. "No, no! This is awful!"

Lincoln lifted her head up with his free hand, concern on his face. "What? What's wrong?"

"It's my mother, or foster mom," Octavia said. "She has a strict no-dating policy in the house. I'm not sure why, but my foster sister seemed okay with it so I never questioned it. I never cared because I've been waiting for you to ask so long I thought it would never happen," she admitted as she rambled on.

"Really?" Lincoln asked, sitting up straighter in his chair.

Octavia laughed, batting him playfully. "Oh, don't flatter yourself," she joked. "But now we have an issue." She looked at Lincoln, determination flashing in her eyes. "I'll talk to her."

"Alright. I believe in you," he said. "Now, I think we should actually get back to French. I just had to ask; it was a now or never moment for me," he said, shaking his head.

Octavia smiled as he asked her how to conjugate "to give" in the future tense.

"Absolutely not! Don't be ridiculous!" Abby practically screeched that them. She paced around the living room, as Clarke and Octavia sat on the couch.

Octavia leaned forward. She could see Clarke's eyes wide, never seeing this development coming. She knew about Octavia "secret" crush; she never thought she would actually ask Abby to let her go out with him.

"Abby, please, listen to me. He is really, really nice! Nothing would happen!" she pled.

"Nothing would happen? I know exactly what would happen!" Abby replied. She looked down to Octavia. "He takes you on a nice dinner. You feel comfortable, he sees that. He asks you if you want to go to his place to watch a movie. You agree. Next thing you know, you're being taken advantage of, and you are regretting every decision you've made since you agreed to go on that date."

Octavia stood up. "Lincoln would never do that to me! Please, just give him a chance!"

Abby crossed her arms. "I'm sorry, Octavia, I can't allow it. Clarke's content with not dating, right Clarke?" Abby looked at her daughter.

Clarke nodded.

"And why is that?"

Clarke rolled her eyes. "Have you seen the unwashed miscreants that go to our school?" she asked, annoyed.

"There you go," Abby said, triumphant.

"Ugh, that is so unfair!" Octavia said, stomping her foot. "Clarke's not human! She just hasn't met anyone to turn that heart from stone to flesh!"

Abby and Clarke stared at her. Octavia knew she might have gone too far with that, but there was no going back.

"Mrs. Griffin, please," she said one last time.

"You know what," Abby said, contemplative. "You can date," she said. Before Octavia or Clarke could say anything, she pointed at her blonde daughter. "When she does." She smiled at Octavia.

"What? But she'll never date!"

"Then you won't either! Oh, I like that," Abby said, walking away to the kitchen.

When she was gone, Octavia turned to Clarke. "Can't you find someone without a brain to take you on one date so I can see if there even is anything between me and Lincoln?!" she asked. Clarke looked at her, cold.

"Maybe you should find someone without a real heart instead," she retorted, marching off to her room.

Octavia stared at her as she left, an idea sparking in her mind.

Outside in the front yard, Octavia sat on the stairs, resting her head on the pillar, supporting her cell phone between her cheek and shoulder as she removed dirt from underneath her fingernails.

After one ring, there was an answer.

"O? What's up? Is there something wrong?"

"Hey big brother," Octavia grinned through her smile. "Did you know that you're so totally amazing? Like, the best brother anyone could ever ask for. Also, on Sunday I noticed your shirt was looking a bit small. Have you been working out?"

"What do you want, O?" Bellamy asked, easily seeing through her words.

Octavia crossed her legs, sitting up from her resting position. "Bellamy, I have a huge favor to ask."

"...what is it?" he asked.

"I need to you ask one of your friends to take Clarke out on a date."

"What?" he yelled from the other end, forcing Octavia to lift the phone from her ear.

"Just ask one of your stoner friends," Octavia said. "It would mean a lot to me!"

"I'm sorry, O," he said. "For one, those stoner friends you mentioned aren't my friends. You know I don't have time for friends. Two, I don't see the point of all of this. Clarke is insufferable, someone would literally have to pay me to take her out. What is the point of all of this?"

Octavia knew how he would react if she knew why she was really asking. "She's been awful this past week, and I think she needs to get laid."

"Gross, O. I didn't need to know that," Bellamy said. "I'm not discussing this further, I have some homework I gotta finish and a football game calling my name," he said, and then hung up on her.

Octavia sat in on the porch a while after that, watching cars drive by for a while. What was she going to do now?

She had to call Lincoln. She pulled out her phone again, dialing his number with flying fingers.

"...and then he just hung up on me!" she finished, catching Lincoln up on the entire conversation, word for word. "I'm so sorry. I would love to go out, but I can't go against Abby's wishes… after she took me in, it would just seem too…"

"It's okay, I understand, Octavia. We can still see each other for tutoring, though, right?" he asked, hopeful.

"I wouldn't even dream of getting a new teacher," she replied, meaning every word.

They spent the next several hours chatting, hearts still full of what still could happen.

Clarke and Raven were walking through the quad, the rest of the student body scrambling to get to their after-school activities.

"And then in third period, Finn had the audacity to stand up and contradict my statement. He said that Petrarchan poetry isn't sexist, and that the women are placed on such a high pedestal that us females should feel flattered. As if anyone wants to be compared to a radiating sun one minute, to say that we freeze man's feelings the next," Clarke was saying.

"I wouldn't actually mind that ability," Raven said as they reached Clarke's convertible.

Clarke laughed, agreeing. She unlocked the car as Raven hopped over the passenger door, tossing her bag into the backseat. "True. But I know that I was still right."

"Of course." Clarke started driving down the parking lot, when a motorcyclist cut her off. Rising from her seat, she shouted out, "Remove head from sphincter, then drive!"

The guy looked back at her, his eyes widened, and scrambled off, stopping by another large man who was getting on his own bicycle.

"Haha, nice one," Raven offered Clarke a high-five. "Who was that?"

"Miller, I think. One of Octavia's prospecting boyfriend's friends."

"That again? How many times has she asked to go on a date now?" Raven asked.

"Too many times to count," Clarke said, turning onto the highway. "First it was Atom, then the football player, and now this Lincoln fellow who I think she gets French lessons from."

"I'm sure your mother was very open to the subject," Raven said dryly, shaking her head in the wind like a dog.

"You know it." They stopped talking as the went on the onramp to the freeway, opting out to blast the radio instead.

"You good, man?" Lincoln asked Miller, concerned.

"Yeah, just a minor encounter with the Shrew," he grumbled, admittedly a bit startled. "Never mind that. Any news on Octavia?"

Lincoln messed with his helmet. "Naw. She has a complicated living situation, and her foster mom won't allow it. She said that if Clarke dates, her sister-friend, that she would be able to, but that won't ever happen."

"Yo! Boys! Watcha talking about?" Finn Collins swaggered up to them, Chris Myles behind him. Finn slapped Miller on the back, eliciting a forced smile from the man.

"Nothing. Just girls being girls," he said, hesitant.

"Always a good subject! Man, I really had Clarke riled up today in AP English. You know how she gets when someone disagrees with her! Any chance I have to see her little cheeks turn red, I'll take," he laughs, fist-bumping Chris. "Have you guys seen her little sister, recently? Octavia? She was so awkward last year, but damn, is that girl fine now!"

Miller glanced at Lincoln, who had a frown forming on his face, ready to defend Octavia. "Hey-"

"You know," Finn continued, ignoring Lincoln. "I'd like to land that girl one day. Seems like a good challenge!"

"Finn-" Lincoln cut himself on. He looked at Miller, who seemed confused, but then he turned back to Finn. "Good luck with that. She can't date anyone until Clarke Griffin does. House rules."

Finn looked up quickly. "Seriously? This just got interesting. So we just need to get Clarke Griffin to date? Man, that'd be a sight to see, Clarke dating again."

"Why? Because she dumped your ass freshmen year?" Chris asked. Finn shut him down with a glare.

"Shut up, idiot." He turned to Lincoln. "So we just gotta find someone dumb enough to date Clarke."

"I don't think dumb enough is the right word. Strong-willed, more like," Lincoln said. "Someone, like Bellamy Blake?"

Miller gasped. "Blake? Are you serious?"

Lincoln nodded. "He won't do it without generous compensation, of course," he said, recollecting Octavia's words.

An evil grin formed on Finn's nasty face. "I can provide that easily. Leave this up to me. I think Octavia will be free to ride the Collins train soon," he cheered. He snapped, walked away, and Chris followed him.

"Dude, what was that?" Miller demanded, shoving Lincoln in the chest.

"Don't worry about it," he responded. "Octavia isn't stupid. She won't go for Finn. But she will be able to go on a date with me now," he said, a smile on his face.

Miller shook his head. "Damn, this is twisted, but it might just work. I guess I'm supposed to say nothing to Bellamy?"

"You got it. Just stay out of it. Now c'mon, we're gonna be late for the film showing. Wick's gonna eat all the popcorn before we even get there." Lincoln climbed up into his motorcycle, and the two rode off into the distance.

Just before Bellamy shut his locker, he saw a hair out of place in his mirror. Licking his hand, he slicked back his hair, making sure it was all pushed back. When he was fully satisfied, he finally closed the locker, hefting his backpack onto one shoulder, as he opened his history book for last-minute studying for his in-class essay.

"Blake!" He turned at the sound of the shout. He stuffed a groan as he saw Finn Collins waving at him down the hall.

"What do you want, Collins?" he said, closing his book aggressively.

"I have a business proposition for you," Finn said, resting an arm on Bellamy's locker. Bellamy stared at his hand until Finn felt uncomfortable and stood up straight again. He cleared his throat. "Have you ever thought about dating Clarke Griffin?"

That caught Bellamy off guard. "Clarke? Clarke Griffin? My sister's foster sister? Why is everyone suddenly obsessed with her?" He looked at Finn again. "Well, you've always been obsessed with her. But to answer your question," he continued, ignoring Finn's glare, "god, no. I haven't spent that much time with her, but I would never date her," he said, starting to head for his class, or he would be late.

Finn scuttled next to him. "Would you try, if I offered you some generous payment?"

That stopped Bellamy in his tracks. "You're going to pay me to take out a girl?" he asked. Finn nodded. Bellamy considered for a second, as outlandish as it seemed. Abby Griffin was covering for his rent, food and school supplies, but he still had two jobs to be able to pay from clothing, and his athletic equipment for football. He could use some extra cash. Hell, he could stand Clarke for some money.

He was just about to accept when he realized. "What's in it for you, Collins," he asked, voice laced in poison.

"Oh, nothing," Finn shrugged. He would never tell Bellamy's he was trying to nail his baby sister, unless he had a death wish. "I just like messing with that girl. She can really piss me off sometimes."

Bellamy chuckled. "I can understand that. So how much are we talking?"

After getting the payment, first of many, Bellamy hoped, pocketing the two hundred dollars, he got to class to finally write that essay.

The second the bell rang, Bellamy headed to get the job started. He knew right where he could find Clarke: the art studio. Bellamy hated going down there, the kilns were always firing some sort of clay work, heating up the entire classroom, and frankly, Bellamy only liked being in the heat if it meant he could take his shirt off.

Venturing into the basements of the school, he spotted Clarke across the way. She was standing at an easel, covered in a pallet of colors. Lost in thought, she held a brush a inch off the canvas, deciding what exactly to do.

Bellamy snuck up behind her, examining the photo. It was a landscape piece with an added element of life. A wide scene of a mountain range, with a lake in the foreground, had a couple of deer gathered around a lake, some drinking the clear lake, and others still yet to painted keeping guard. It was beautiful already, but he would never tell that in earnest to her.

"Nice work, Princess," Bellamy greeted, sarcastic.

Clarke jumped, startled, hopping away from the easel as not to drip any paint where it did not belong. Turning around, she glared when she saw who it was. "What do you want, Blake?" She set down her plate of paint, wiping her hands on her apron.

Bellamy tossed on his best-looking smirk. He knew it worked; he had the cheerleading squad's testament to back him up on that. "How are you today?"

"Covered in paint, and sweating like a pig in this furnace, actually. And what about you?"

Bellamy chuckled, trying to be charming. "What a way to get a guy's attention!"

Clarke frowned, throwing away a paper plate that she must have used as a tester for brushes. "My mission in life. Why are you really here, Bellamy?"

"I was just thinking lately, we don't really know each other that well, considering we kinda share a sister."

Clarke seemed impervious to his winning smile. She avoided his gaze pointedly, starting to gather up her art supplies. "I wouldn't call Octavia my sister. She's just... more than a friend," she said. She walked to the sink to start washing out her brushes. "Besides, I think I know enough about you for my own satisfaction."

Bellamy clutched his chest. "That hurts, Griffin," he said, trying to be dramatic. He could see she was not amused, so he decided to be straightforward. "Just let me take you out on a date. What could happen?"

Clarke walked back to her painting, putting it on the dry rack. "Nothing that I desire. See you later, Bellamy," and with that, she picked up her backpack, stuffing her earbuds in her ears, and strutted away.

This might be harder than Bellamy thought. But that cash in his pocket called to him, and he knew he wasn't going to give up just like that.