Chapter 1:
"Take it easy, Clarke," laughed Raven. "What did the ball ever do to you?"
Clarke continued to shoot the balls she had lined up outside the goalie box in the top left corner of the net. Despite Clarke being a goalie, her teammates knew she could play any other position as well or if not better than they could. If her mother had not been the best goalie their high school had ever seen (until her daughter), Clarke would be playing midfield.
But the choices were not up to Clarke. It did not mean that she wouldn't fucking plummet the ball into the net whenever she got the chance.
"It's just a fundraiser tournament," said Raven taking a few shots of her own, low yet powerful. Clarke was not happy when she heard that Principal Jaha was making the two soccer teams combine their numbers for a charity tournament. She of course was not upset because all the money was going to a school dance instead of a worthy cause. She really wasn't. As usual Principal Jaha had good ideas, he just had poor execution and which cause Clarke to act immoral. Technically, Clarke's hatred of the boy's team captain made her act immoral, but that was beside the point.
"Don't worry about Clarke, Raven," Octavia said standing behind the goal picking up the balls. The main problem was not playing soccer with the boys team, it was what Coach Kane had said after the idea was presented that made Clarke want to bite Jaha's head off.
"Our Captain Clarke will be working with the boys captain, Bellamy Blake, until the Homecoming Dance to make sure the fundraiser goes as smoothly as possible." Clarke had given a curt nod towards Coach Kane instead of marching up to Jaha and punching him square in the jaw. If Jaha's son had not been one of Clarke's best friends growing up, maybe she would have done it.
Jaha had known about Clarke and Bellamy's feud since it had been going on since Elementary school. Wells Jaha and Clarke and been playing soccer on the field at recess when Bellamy Blake seemingly marched over and claimed the field as his own.
"The field has two soccer fields on it, we are playing on this one," kindergarten Clarke mustered up to the first grader. "Use the other one."
"Aren't you just a little Princess," he smiled. The same smirk Clarke had seen thousands of times after that first day at recess. "We want both." Bellamy had simply said. And Bellamy Blake had gotten what he wanted.
"Clarke's just angry because she has to work with my brother," Octavia's smirked.
Clarke kicked the ball over the goal and onto the track behind it, almost hitting a runner.
"Sorry," Clarke yelled towards the runner after she sent her a nasty look.
"Clarke," Octavia shook her head. "Always the one killing people."
"Shut up," laughed Clarke while running to retrieve the ball.
Once Clarke retrieves it, she punted it over the fence to her two teammates who now both stood around the goal line.
"Have you let off enough steam for the things you can't control?" Asked Octavia, smirking again.
Clarke rolled her eyes but also laughed at her friend's spontaneous wisdom. "Yes we can leave." Clarke sighed. Her body had the right closeness and tightness that came after a good work out. "Thanks for staying after practice with me. I just..."
"Oh, no. Here she goes on another rant," Raven complained.
"Shut up," Clarke said again for the second time. " I just feel like this is a waste of time, why couldn't we just play the boys team? Why do we have to combine with them?"
"Clarke," said Octavia. "We all know that you just don't want to work with the same boy who spilled lemonade on your dress and convinced the entire second grade class you peed yourself."
"Oh my God, I remember that," Raven laughed. "That was hilarious."
"Yes, well," Clarke said seriously. "I have moved past that and plan to only look forward. We have both made mistakes."
"I probably should not tell you that my brother plans to make sure six out of the nine players are males then," Octavia said just as the threesome walked into the locker room.
Clarke is still ranting as they walk into the parking lot. "Misogynist, sexist, fucking asshole who-"
"Did someone say my name?" A low raspy voice hollered from the first car waiting in the loop.
"Bellamy Blake!" yelled Clarke towards the car.
"Yes, Princess?" The nickname had stuck.
"How dare you think you can get away with putting only three members of my team on the field."
"We both know that the Greenfield Grounders plan on doing the same, so why don't you shut your mouth and let my sister get into the car." Clarke didn't move away from the passenger seat window.
"I do not care what the other team is doing, you fucking sexist. I am going to take your fucking penis and rip it off your body, put it in a blender, and then force feed it down your throat before I let you take up more than half the field with your braindead players."
"Princess," Bellamy said nonchalantly. "How about we talk this over at lunch tomorrow. I have to be home in a jiffy for some time with a certain someone. So I would prefer not to have my penis ripped off my body. I'm gonna need it in about a half hour."
"Gross," yelled Octavia, moving beside Clarke to get into the car. "My room is next to yours."
Bellamy just drove away leaving a fuming Clarke and a laughing Raven.
Clarke always went to the art room during her free periods. As a junior, she could now go anywhere she pleased instead of staying in the lunch room or a classroom for study hall and lunch. She had often lost herself in her work so fully that she had missed a couple of classes following her free periods.
"If one was not able to find a Clarke Griffin, one simply needs to find the closest canvas," said a voice snapping Clarke out of her work.
"You're practically Shakespeare," Clarke looked up from her painting at Bellamy and took out her headphones.
"What were you listening to?"
Clarke hated answering this question. Music was very personal for her. Music and art had been the only thing that had gotten her through the deaths of both Wells and her father. Without those two methods of self expression, Clarke would have had no output. She would have erupted from the inside.
"The Beatles." A lie. She had been listening to After the Storm by Mumford & Sons. Clarke knew if she said Mumford & Sons, Bellamy would have claimed all their songs sound the same. So she said The Beatles because she knew Bellamy would have to fight that the Beatles were bad, and that would be an impossible task.
"All of their songs at once?" Bellamy smiled. "That's impressive."
"Hey Jude."
"Basic, but it's fine. Makes sense when you think about it."
"What does," Clarke asked.
"Princess, you are a basic white chic. Of course you would be listening to the most basic Beatles song."
"All of The Beatles songs are basic because it's the fucking Beatles. You would have said I was basic if I was listening to Golden Slumbers."
"Actually, no," for a second, Clarke thought Bellamy looked impressed. "But I would have thought you were lying."
"Why would I lie about the Be-"
"Can we start planning this game?" Bellamy interrupted. "I have somewhere to be."
"Of course you do. But just so you know, I am not willing to compromise on certain aspects."
"I only expected as much."
The couple continued to argue about which players to use and where. They never discussed themselves and what position they each would play. They both understood that Clarke would play Goalie and Bellamy Sweeper, the last person the opposing team had to go through to get to her.
"Whatever the hell we want?" Clarke yelled back. "That's how you think we should handle the game? We are going to need to practice together everyday leading up to next Friday, we should also organize team dinners so that the team can experience bonding. Bonding within the team will allow fluidity on the field. You do know this game will be watched by the entire school, teachers, Principal Jaha, the mayor, don't you?"
"The mayor?" Bellamy laughed. "You mean just your mother?"
"You have no idea what she's like," snapped Clarke. "You don't know what its like to have a mother constantly telling you what to do." Seeing the look on Bellamy's face made Clarke feel more guilty that she would care to admit.
Clarke remembered the day Octavia told her that her mother had been sentenced to twenty years in prison without bale. She remembered Octavia showing up on her doorstep quickly followed by her weeping in Clarke's arms. Clarke had let her sleep in her bed that night. Clarke had hugged her best friend until the sobs had stopped and Octavia had fallen asleep with tears still staining her cheeks.
She could not imagine how hard it had been on Bellamy too.
The word 'mother' was sensitive around the Blake siblings.
"Sorry," Clarke rubbed her eyes. "I am really tired. Do not listen to what I have to say."
"On any matter? Because I would love to have six players on the field."
Clarke playfully punched Bellamy in the arm. "What ever the hell you want, Blake," but she was actually very thankful that he seemed to forgive her slip up.