Bellamy stared at his dwindling pile of snacks where they were stacked on the unused desk. It had been six days since his victory at bingo, six days since the dodgeball tournament, six days without seeing Clarke. He knew he should be happy about that fact, as she hadn't needed to call him for any reason, but he couldn't help but feel a little bit disappointed. He quite simply missed her.
She had, however, been a loyal correspondent through text, as she had had trouble falling asleep twice over the past six day, on Monday and Wednesday. They had also chatted back and forth through their more boring classes. For Clarke, it was English and for Bellamy it was College Algebra. They'd even talked on the phone about Clarke's English assignment on Greek Mythology and Bellamy had been itching to spill his copious knowledge on the topic. Maybe he had wanted to impress Clarke, or maybe he simply wanted to help her out. Either way, she had been impressed, and if they hadn't spent thirty minutes chatting, she would have had the paper knocked out in under an hour.
Clarke had tried to help him with the Algebra, but it was difficult through text. Bellamy remembered how he had waited impatiently for her to respond to his question if she wanted to meet him, to work in person, but Clarke had declined without citing a reason. Bellamy had swallowed down his disappointment with a sort of bitter confusion. Perhaps his resignation from Octavia's day to day life had left him craving someone to watch over. He chalked it up to that, and that he and Clarke were friends. Friends hung out with one another and friends missed each other when they didn't see each other for a week.
Six days. Bellamy corrected himself.
They were both busy, he knew that. On Sunday, the girls were cleaning their dorm and bathroom, then shopping together. Clarke had kept him updated on Octavia and the shenanigans they were getting up to, like Harper having a photoshoot with the cashier in Target or Raven trying to hurdle jump a wet floor sign and nearly breaking her wrist when she slipped so hard on the wet floor beneath the sign. Bellamy had laughed aloud when Clarke told him that. She had such a way of describing things, even through text, that he was amazed she thought she was bad at English.
On Monday, Clarke had told him she was working on a 'new project' for him. Bellamy had immediately demanded to know what it was, but Clarke, of course, refused to even give him a hint. Bellamy had spent the last four days guessing at what it might be, but Clarke still vehemently refused to tell if it was right or wrong, although she had let it slip that is was not another baked good after Bellamy had guessed, as Clarke put it, "Every desert known to man on the entire Earth, Moon, solar system, galaxy and beyond".
Tuesday Bellamy and the guys got together at the Recreation Center to mess around in the gym and practice their dodgeball strategy. Bellamy was growing to like Miller, he seemed reasonable and level headed, which Bellamy considered to be important qualities. Murphy on the other hand, sort of grated on Bellamy's nerves. Thankfully, Murphy usually picked his bones with Jasper, so Bellamy could just observe the tribulations he was put through.
Wednesday came around and Clarke went out with one of her new friends, Lexa, from one of her classes, Bellamy had forgotten which.
On Thursday, Bellamy had the rather unfortunate experience of running into Echo again. Now that he thought back on it, it didn't exactly seem like an accident the way he had stumbled upon her. She had been leaning against the doorway of the cafeteria when Bellamy walked in, and she swooped towards him like a hawk zeroing in on a field mouse. He had jumped in surprise by the sound of her voice, as he had earbuds in and was clearly not an inviting image with his black hood up and his hands jammed into his pockets.
Echo had gotten her lunch and sat down at Bellamy's table without an invitation. He tried to keep an open mind, so he forced himself to actually talk to her. She told him about her family, which included her older brother Roan, who was a senior at the University. He was a member of The Grounders dodgeball team, and Echo made a promise to introduce them the next time they played. She told him she was going to a career in either criminal investigation or physical education, she hadn't decided yet, as she loved fitness and the like, although she hated kids. Bellamy had laughed, thinking she was making a joke, because how could you be a teacher if you hate kids? But Echo had only stared at him, clearly as serious as a heart attack. Overall, it had been a strange experience for Bellamy, but Echo mustn't have thought so, as she asked if he wanted to do it again. He said maybe and walked away.
Now it was Friday, and Bellamy had gone to classes all day, finished all of the homework he cared to do for one evening, and was laying on his bed, staring at his dwindling snacks. He wondered if they were having grocery bingo again tomorrow, as it was a good deal, the free food and all. He could ask Clarke if she was going, she probably was, along with the rest of the girls. That would mean Harper would ask Monty to go, so Jasper would tag along, and then Bellamy could also go without raising any suspicions.
Just then, a text came in from Miller, asking if he wanted to go out for drinks with Murphy and meet some of his other friends.
Bellamy screwed his lips to the side, considering the offer. It would be nice to get out for a few hours, do some typical college guy stuff, but the appeal of bars had long worn off for Bellamy. He was older than the average college freshman. He didn't even need a fake ID to get into bars or clubs, and half the fun was seeing if you could make it in illegally without getting caught.
Did he really want to meet Miller's other friends? It sort of sounded like a night of awkward small talk.
Then, Clarke texted him.
C: Hey, what are you up to tonight? Raven went out with Octavia and Harper is doing something with Monty.
Well, this wasn't a hard decision at all. Bellamy quickly declined Miller's offer with a 'next weekend' and was standing outside of Clarke's door in a couple of minutes. Only then did he realize he hadn't even responded to her text. He blinked in surprise and drew his hand back from where he had been about to knock on the door. How had he gotten so ahead of himself?
B: Not much. You have anything in mind?
C: Oh, you just assume I was asking you to do something? :)
Bellamy realized that was exactly what he had done, given that he was standing outside of her door right now.
B: Yeah. Who wouldn't want to hang out with the great Bellamy himself?
C: Hmm. Come up if you want, we can figure something out.
B: K. C U soon.
C: Bellamy! Use your words! It's not that hard!
Bellamy grinned, having used the abbreviations just to get a rise out of Clarke. Ever since she let on that it irritated her, he just couldn't resist. It was too easy.
He knocked on the door and heard Clarke shuffling around inside, then she cursed. The door swung open and Clarke was crouching on the floor, clutching her foot.
"Clarke?"
"Yeah?" She asked, looking up at Bellamy with a pained face.
"What's wrong?"
"Oh, nothin'. Just stubbed my toe." She sniffed and stood up. "Ouch. Stubbed toes have got to be up there with the most painful things in the world."
"Yeah, right up there with childbirth," Clarke joked.
"I was thinking more along the lines of getting kicked in the balls, which is the ultimate pain, but childbirth seems pretty bad, too."
Clarke leveled him with a glare that said, 'Watch it, buddy', and Bellamy laughed.
"I'm just joking, of course."
"Are you?" Clarke cocked a playful brow.
"Of course. Women are far superior to men in every imaginable way," Bellamy said, bowing his head so far to Clarke that his nose nearly touched his knee.
She chuckled. "Smart man. Hey, how'd you get here so fast?"
"Uh," Bellamy stalled. "I live just downstairs, you know. How's your toe?"
"Inflamed. Red. Pulsating," Clarke said thoughtfully, twisting her ankle to look at her injured foot from all directions.
Bellamy watched her feet retreat further into her room so he rose back up, watching her. She tucked the corner of something under a blanket on her bed before bending down to pick up a few pencils from the carpet.
"So, when are you going to tell me about this special project you're working on?" He questioned, eyeing the blanket. Clarke followed his eyeline and quickly sidestepped between Bellamy and her bed.
"I uh, it's not done yet. And no, before you ask, you may not have a sneak peak," she said firmly. Bellamy knew his face reflected the surprise he felt that she had been able to guess the next words he'd wanted to speak. She smiled somewhat smugly, recognizing his expression.
"Okay…" He said slowly, formulating a plan. "What do you want to do then?"
"I dunno. When is the first football game?" She asks, sidetracking Bellamy.
"Tomorrow I think, but-"
"Really? Can we go? Do you have to get tickets beforehand? Or do we get student passes or something? I've never been to a professional football game before. Well, I guess college football isn't exactly professional, but I've never been to anything bigger than a highschool game. Minnesota is in the Big 10, right?"
Bellamy couldn't keep up with all her questions, so he started ticking them off on his fingers. "I would love to go. I don't know where to get tickets. I don't know about student passes. You're right, college football isn't professional, that'd be the NFL, but they are exciting. Yes, we are a Big 10 school."
Clarke seemed to find Bellamy's system of keeping track of her questions very amusing, judging by the look on her face.
"What?" Bellamy asked.
"Nothing." Clarke's lips quirked and she looked away.
"I hate that!" He warned.
"Hate what?" Clarke questioned in a sickly sweet innocent voice.
"Hate when you ask someone something, and they say, 'nothing!' Octavia used to do that. She still does. I'd come home, and ask her what she was reading, and she'd just say, "Nothing!', like, you're obviously not reading nothing, the book is right there in your hands!"
Now Clarke was just laughing at him, and Bellamy chuckled.
"Sorry, didn't know I'd touched a nerve there," she said on an inhale, then bit the tip of her tongue between her tongue and kept laughing as Bellamy shook his head.
"I am very passionate about receiving an answer to the question I asked," he justified weakly.
"Okay," Clarke said, nodding through her grin. "I would tell you, but now I don't even remember what you asked."
"Me either," Bellamy said, moving to sit on Clarke's bed.
"No!" She cried, her face changing quickly from her jovial expression to one of concern.
"Wha'?"
"Don't sit there!" Clarke said quickly, wedging herself further between Bellamy and the bed, planting her hands on his back and pushing him away.
"Why ever not? What's under there?"
"Noth-"
Bellamy cut Clarke off with a raised brow. His plan was working flawlessly.
"It's uh-" She stared at the lumpy blanket.
"Hmm?"
"It's something secret," She finally said, looking up at Bellamy with a guilty little smile.
"Oh? Is it?" He drawled, taking a few small steps around the dorm while Clarke maintained her defensive position in front of the bed.
"What are you getting at, Blake?" Clarke said sharply. Bellamy glanced up, eyeing the change in her face. He didn't like her calling him Blake, it reminded him of what his highschool teachers used to call him, his boss of his summer job, the police officer at the door when they came to arrest his mother. Blake.
"Nothin'," Bellamy said with a sly smile. They were playing a game now, a game that Bellamy had the upper hand in.
"Whatever you're doing, knock it off! I'm warning you!" Clarke spat. Even though he knew she was only playing along, the venom in her voice was cutting enough that he had to do a double take. Something similar to the feeling of snow down the back of your winter coat snaked its way up Bellamy's spine.
"I'm not doing anything, but then again, I'm not the one with something to hide," he said lightly.
Clarke tilted her head to the side. "It's really for your own good, that I'm hiding it from you."
"Really?"
"Yes."
"Really?"
"Yes, Bellamy!" Clarke shouted.
"Hmm," he hummed. "What will it cost, to see it?"
"There is no price tag! I said no!"
"Are you sure?" Bellamy ducked his head and peared up at Clarke through slitted eyes, cocking one brow. She looked as if she was choking as she tried to hold back her laugh.
"What are you doing?" She broke down in giggles, abandoning her stoick facade.
"You mean that didn't work? The puppy dog eyes didn't convince you to do anything in the world for me?"
"The only thing it convinced me of is that you're the biggest weirdo I've ever met," Clarke said.
"Ouch!"
"Sorry, the truth hurts," Clarke shrugged, her laughter wound down and she seemed to get self conscious, grabbing her elbow and hugging herself. Bellamy watched her, sort of confused about what had just transpired. He had been acting so unlike himself just then. The only person he had ever joked around with like that was Octavia, but that was years ago. His little sister had long outgrown his teasing remarks, returning them with only a glare and a scoff that grew more indignant with each year that passed.
Clarke though, she seemed to appreciate it, and that set a warm feeling growing in his chest.
"So, what is it you want to do?" Bellamy asked her then, abandoning his plan to steal a look at her special project. He'd just have to be patient, although that was never his strong suit.
Clarke screwed her mouth to the side and got that thoughtful look on her face, Bellamy revealed in the fact that he could already recognise it, and admitted he'd missed seeing her over the past six days.
"Oh!" An idea popped into her head and her whole face lit up. "I heard Harper say something, that she was going out for Juicy Lucys with Monty a couple of days ago, but before I could ask her what that meant, she was gone."
Bellamy stared at her until her bright-eyed look faltered, she flushed rosy pink and looked away. "Unless that means something I don't know about...I should have looked it up first maybe," she mumbled.
"Oh, Princess," Bellamy smiled.
"What?"
"I guess I forgot that you're not from around here."
Clarke looked up, asking him to continue.
"A Juicy Lucy is something so quintessentially Minnesotan, I can hardly believe you've never heard of it before. You've lived here for what? Two weeks now?"
Clarke nodded. "What is it?"
Bellamy only shook his head. "It is not something that can be described in words, it must be experienced first hand."
"Well okay, looks like we figured out what we're doing tonight."
"Perfect! I was getting hu-" Bellamy stopped mid sentence, dawning on the realization that he now had more leverage in his game.
"Getting what?" Clarke asked, oblivious with her back turned. She was fishing out something that had fallen between her bed and nightstand, leaning over with one leg raised into the air.
"Oh, nothing."
"Bellamy, you are such a hypocrite!" She chastised, shaking her head as she stood up, brushing a bit of fuzz from a pack of gum.
"All I'm saying is, two can play at your game of withholding hints," he replied cryptically. Clarke looked confused for a moment before realizing. Then she just exhaled and shook her head.
"You're too much."
"I try," Bellamy replied sweetly.
"Where are we going?"
"You'll just have to wait and see, now won't you?"
"Bellamy! I am just asking if I should change, or if I need to bring money, or anything else. What kind of shoes should I wear?"
Bellamy felt a lightness in the way he was holding his knowledge over Clarke in a sort of way. It was entertaining how little she knew about Minnesota and it's unique little subculture, and he definitely wanted to show her everything there was to know.
"Just, wear what you would normally wear."
"That's helpful," She said dryly, looking down at her outfit, which consisted of a pair of grey shorts and a pale yellow shirt. Her hair was down around her shoulders and as far as Bellamy could tell, she wasn't wearing any makeup. It didn't matter.
"You look fine," he said, then cringed. What girl wanted to be told she looked fine? But before he could revise his statement, Clarke said,
"Thanks. Okay, let's go."
"Alright. You fine walking? I can call a Lyft if you want, but it's like, two miles or something."
"No, I'd like to walk!" she said hurriedly. "It's a nice day," she added.
"Okay, whatever works," Bellamy said easily, opening the door for Clarke to walk through.
"You want a piece of gum?" She offered, holding out the foil wrapped stick.
"Sure," Bellamy reached out for it, only for Clarke to snatch it back.
"You know, on second thought, I only have eleven pieces left, I'd better save it… Although I supposed if you shared some information with me, perhaps the location of this Juicy Lucy, or what this Juicy Lucy is, I could spare a piece." Clarke said striding down the hall, talking over her shoulder.
Bellamy stole her signature eye roll as he caught up with her.
"Hmm. I don't think I'm at liberty to disclose that information."
"Ugh Bellamy! I really thought that would work," Clarke grumbled.
"You've underestimated me, although you almost got me. Because spearmint is my favorite." Clarke said at the same time as Bellamy.
He glanced at her curiously as they made their way out onto the street.
"How'd you know that?"
"Oh, you know," Clarke said, looking down at the flowerbeds surrounding the flagpole in front of the Hall.
"Claaarke," Bellamy groaned.
"You're right, this game is getting a little old."
"So you'll tell me about the surprise?"
"No!" Clarke shouted. "I'll tell you about the gum. Octavia mentioned it this afternoon when I offered her a piece."
"Hmm, I didn't think Octavia would have remembered something like that," Bellamy said softly, touched that she would.
"Of course she would. She's your sister."
"I guess. Are you that close with your siblings?" Bellamy asked, "Wait! You are an only child."
"Yeah. I'd like to think I would be though. I always wanted a sibling," Clarke said, trailing her fingers along the rough brick of the building they were walking past. Bellamy directed her left around a corner and they continued walking.
"Did you want a brother or a sister?"
"Well, I always wanted an older brother, or a younger sister."
"Trust me, younger sisters aren't all that great," Bellamy joked.
Clarke frowned. Bellamy was spending so much time looking down at her face he nearly walked into a mailbox. Clarke didn't seem to notice, she was too concentrated on staring down at her feet.
"I'm sure everyone has their days, but I just wished I had someone to go through things with, you know? Especially after my dad died, it was just so…, lonely around the house. And a sibling would have been able to understand what I was going through."
Bellamy felt for Clarke, because truthfully, he loved Octavia more than life itself. His life without her was unimaginable.
"I get that. They are nice. Sometimes."
"Yeah. And it was never a huge deal, because my dad was always very hands on with me as a kid. He'd take me places and play all kinds of games with me. I was never bored, but after he died…"
"I'm sorry, Clarke."
"For what?" She asked softly, kicking a rock down the pavement.
Bellamy didn't know what to say. He was sorry for lots of things. Sorry that her dad died, sorry about what Finn did to her, sorry that she was struggling. He didn't reply; he was so lost in thoughts.
It was only when they paused at a crosswalk, waiting for the light to turn, that Bellamy felt Clarke's eyes on him. He gazed back into her shifting blue irises and tried to express through a look how he felt. He thought that Clarke understood, as the gentlest smile crept over her face. The evening sun was setting her hair aglow and her cheeks were rosy against the golden shine.
"I don't want you to feel sorry for me," she said earnestly.
"Sorry for you? I-"
"You have struggled through so many things in your life too, things that I can't even start to imagine!" she said, looking fretful.
"Clarke! It's not-" Bellamy struggled to put into words what he felt. It was true that she had had a better life than him, what with parents that had legitimate jobs and always enough money, but that didn't mean he deserved her pity anymore than she deserved his.
"It's not about that. My life was always shitty. I was born into it and I never knew it any different. I never had a dad, and I always wondered what that would have been like, but not having a dad also meant that I never have to go through the pain of losing one."
Clarke didn't look convinced, but she nodded nonetheless.
"We're just different, is all. We have had different lives, but here, at this point right now, or lives are, are intersecting, and we can make the most of that," He said as they reached the other side of the road.
That made Clarke smile, which immediately brightened his mood. "Put like a true poet, Blake."
"Hmm. I don't like that."
"What? Being a poet? I think it's good to be, well, good, with words, makes you sound sophisticated."
"No, not being a poet. I meant Blake."
Clarke peered up at him, confused. "You don't like your last name?"
Bellamy couldn't help but chuckle. "No, Clarke. I like my last name fine. I just don't like when you say it."
"I'm not following," Clarke replied, sidestepping closer to Bellamy as a large group of men dressed as if for a bachelor party passed by. Close enough that her hair brushed his bare arm and he could smell that sweet scent that hung about her like an aura.
"No, it's just so informal. And I thought we were friends."
"We are friends," Clarke said firmly, clearly not getting his point.
"I don't want you to call me Blake because that's what old men call me. Like, 'Blake, come 'er.' "
"Like your football coach?" she asked.
"Yeah, if I had played football he probably would have called me Blake."
"You didn't play football?" Clarke asked, sounding surprised.
"No. Too busy working."
"Aww. You would have been a great flyback."
"Flyback, eh?"
"Yeah, you're sturdy without being stocky. I bet you can move pretty quick, too. You'd be intimidating enough without being an absolute slug on the field."
"Thanks, Princess. I didn't know you were into football so much."
"Oh, I've always liked sports. It was one of the things my dad and I always did together. We'd watch every single game on TV, football, hockey, basketball, baseball…"
"That's nice. And yeah, you're right. I would have been the best damn flyback ever."
"You would have been. Probably would have been recruited, too. Hell! It could be you I was going to watch play tomorrow!"
Bellamy chuckled and smiled wistfully at Clarke. In truth, he had always wanted to play football, and he had played in elementary and middle school, but once highschool rolled around, there had simply been no time in his busy life schedule for extracurriculars. Talking about it now, he felt like an old man, looking back on his life, when in reality, he was still young with most of his life stretching out ahead of him like an untrodden path, ready and waiting to be discovered.
They walked on for a moment, with Clarke staring up at the buildings and looking into windows.
"But back to this Blake thing," she continued. "I only tried calling you that because you have a nickname for me, so I wanted one for you." Bellamy nodded. "And the most logical nickname for you would be Bell, but Octavia calls you that, so I wanted something better."
"Hmm."
"But, you say you don't like it! So I guess it's back to the drawing board."
"I guess so."
"But I need more material! What's your middle name? I was going to ask Octavia, but I didn't want her getting all weird like Raven has been."
"Raven's been weird?" Bellamy asked, slightly concerned. Was Clarke's roommate suspecting something about Finn?
"Yeah, you know how she is…" Clarke said faintly as again her cheeks glowed rosy.
"Ohh, because she thinks that you and I are… awfully close," Bellamy said slyly, rather liking Clarke's bashful reaction.
"Yeah, but anyway, don't change the topic! What's your middle name?"
Bellamy frowned. His middle name wasn't something he often discussed.
Clarke gauged his reaction. "What, is it embarrassing or something?
"No, it's Alexander."
"Bellamy Alexander Blake," Clarke said and Bellamy shivered at the way his full name rolled off her tongue. No one had ever said his name like that and he never wanted anyone else to.
"I like it," Clarke said decisively. "Is there a meaning behind it?"
"Yeah."
Clarke waited for him to go on. Bellamy had never told anyone the meaning behind his middle name, as he'd never been asked to, probably because he never even told anyone what it was.
"My mother always used to read me Greek Mythology, you know, and I read it to Octavia. That's where her name came from too."
"I didn't know there was an Alexander in Mythology? All I know is Alexander the Great, but I thought he was the King of Macedonia."
"Macedon," Bellamy corrected gently.
"Right, Mr. History."
He chuckled and bumped into her, to which she stuck her tongue out at him in reply.
"Anyway, Alexander or he's otherwise called Alexandros, was the son of King Priam, he's the one who eloped with Helen of Troy and caused the whole Trojan War."
"I thought that was…" Claarke donned her thinking face once again as she searched for the more common name of the mythological figure. Bellamy didn't offer her any hints so he could watch the way her mouth screwed to one side and her brows drew together, shading her blue eyes.
She thought for a moment more, then shouted out, "Paris!"
"Bingo," Bellamy praised and she smiled, looking pleased.
"Well okay then, Paris. How close are we to this place?"
"Uh, right on this next corner."
"Perfect."
They walked a little bit further before Bellamy stopped Clarke in front of a building. She squinted up at the lettering above the door.
"Matt's Bar and Grill?" she asked.
"Yep," Bellamy led her up to the door and ushered her into the bar, which was quite packed on a Friday night.
They were greeted by a bubbly woman at the entrance. "Welcome to Matt's Bar and Grill, home of the Original Jucy Lucy. Table for two?"
"Yes, please," Bellamy said.
"You're in luck, just cleared one off!" She said, motioning for them to follow her. "I'm Ella, I'll be your waitress tonight." She set a couple of menus down on a high topped table. "Go ahead and get settled and I'll be back in just a moment to take your drink orders."
"Thank you, Ella," Clarke said kindly to the girl as she retreated to the packed bar.
Bellamy pulled out Clarke's chair for her and she gave him a surprised, pleased look and a, "Thank you, Paris."
"Paris? That's what you're going with?" Bellamy questioned. He certainly wasn't complaining. It was a nickname that was more meaningful than just a shortening of his name.
"I think so," Clarke said. "Although I do like Alex. Then Al for short."
"You have a nickname for a nickname?"
"Mm hmm," Clarke said, picking up a menu. "I need a couple days to decide, or I could just use both."
"Alright, let me know once you've got it figured out."
Bellamy realized he couldn't seem to wipe the grin off his face, even if he tried. This was so unlike him, to be almost giddy. He watched Clarke examine her menu over the top of his own, her eyes tracing back and forth across the page.
"Jucy Lucy? Why's it spelled like that? What even is it?"
"It's spelled like that because Matt's is the original creator, so they spelled it J-U-C-Y so people know it's the real deal, and any spelled J-U-I-C-Y are knock offs."
"Oh," Clarke said. "It's a hamburger?"
Bellamy laughed at her face. "No, it's a cheeseburger. And it's not just any cheeseburger. What makes it special is that the cheese is on the inside," Bellamy explained, pointing to a picture on the front of the menu which depicted the oozing patty.
"But- why?" Clarke looked perplexed and faintly amused.
"I dunno. But I do know that it is quintessentially Minnesotan."
"I'll take your word for it."
"Take my word for it? Oh no, you're going to try it. And you'll love it."
She raised a brow, as if to say, 'Oh really?'
Ella, the waitress, returned with her pad of paper and a sweet smile, which was equally directed between the two, which Bellamy appreciated.
"Alright, can I get you something with something to drink? We have Angry Orchard, Grain Belt Premium, Bell's Two Hearted Ale, Fulton Lonely Blonde and Blue Moon on tap, and domestic beers in bottles, or coke products."
"Uh I'll just have a water, please." Clarke said politely, looking at Bellamy with a raised brow, clearly wondering whether he was going to get an alcoholic beverage.
"I'll do a Coke."
"Sure, thing, I'll be right back with that," Ella said and whisked off again.
"Forgot your fake?" Clarke asked.
"No, uh. Not much of a draft guy."
"What? You like IPAs or something?"
Bellamy wasn't sure what Clarke was getting at, which made him a bit uncomfortable.
"Just, not in the mood for beer tonight, I guess."
"Hmm. I don't mind, if you drink, so don't think you can't-"
"No, it's not that Clarke," Bellamy said firmly and Clarke stopped mid sentence, her mouth still open.
"Okay."
"And anyway, I don't even have a fake ID."
"You don't?" She seemed shocked. Bellamy felt his lips twitch, then he realized that Clarke still didn't know how old he was. Was that what she was getting at? He had told her that he was a bit older than the typical college freshman, but she didn't know the number.
"No, I mean, I used to, but even then I didn't really use it. You have to have friends to go out with."
"Oh!" she chastised. "Don't even try and tell me you didn't have friends."
He smiled at her as she shook her head. "I had a few friends."
"Of course you did. Who wouldn't want to be friends with the great Bellamy Alexander?" She teased, throwing the title he'd used earlier that evening back at him.
"No one."
"Exactly."
"Alright, here you are," Ella placed their drinks down on the table and pulled out a couple of paper wrapped straws from her apron. "Ready to order or do you need a few more minutes?"
"No, we're ready," Bellamy answered quickly before Clarke could. "We'll do two Jucy Lucys and an order of fries."
"Good choice! I'll put the order in for you right away." She picked up the menus and slipped off to the next table.
"Bellamy!"
"What?" He said innocently, sliding his Coke across the table. A second later, he was hit in between the eyes with a straw wrapper.
His head snapped up to see Clarke, looking smug, as she lowered the straw from her lips.
"Hey now!"
"Huh? Did you see that? Someone must have thrown that at you? How rude!" Clarke turned around in her chair, peering over her shoulder as if to spot the imaginary perpetrator.
Bellamy shook his head and Clarke turned back around with a shrug and put her straw into her water.
"That was crazy. Let me just say that people back in Oregon would never have dared to be so crass."
"Crass? Minnesota is the nicest state in the nation. Have you not heard our slogan? People literally say, 'Minnesota Nice'."
"Hmm. Guess not," Clarke's eyes were bright, clearly she was enjoying teasing Bellamy and he didn't mind it one bit. It had been years since he'd bantered back and forth with anyone like this.
"Well, you'll just have to get out more."
"I s'pose I will."
They both took long drinks of their beverages and took in the restaurant. The atmosphere was warm and surprisingly family friendly for a bar. People chatted, leaning against the walls with pints of amber beer in their hands while a couple of young boys wove their way between the adults' legs, playing a game of tag.
"Thanks for agreeing to do something tonight," Clarke spoke up, drawing Bellamy's attention from a guy at the bar who looked oddly familiar.
"Of course, Princess," Clarke smiled at the nickname.
"So, tell me, Alex. If you don't have a fake anymore, how do you get into bars?"
"Well, I told you, I'm older than the usual freshman."
"You're already 21?" Clarke looked a bit confused, which made Bellamy reluctant to say what he needed to say next.
"Yeah, I actually just turned 23 in July."
Clarke's eyes widened almost comically, and Bellamy would have laughed if he wasn't scared about what she was going to say next.
"You're 23?"
"Uh, yep."
"Huh," She sat back in her chair, expression changing from flabbergasted to reserved. Bellamy could feel his heart thumping in his chest. Why had he said anything? What if Clarke got scared of him now? Shut up, it's not going to matter. She won't care. But what if she does?
"Yeah, I'm five years older than Octavia, almost six really. She won't be nineteen until May."
"I see," Clarke said.
"When's your birthday?" Bellamy asked, sensing Clarke's uncertainty on what to say next. She leaned forward again, but before she could answer Bellamy sporadically shouted out, "Wait, let me guess. I've got a thing for guessing birthdays."
"Okay, have at it, Paris," Clarke said and Bellamy was instantly soothed by the nickname. She wasn't going to shy away from him.
"Hmm," Bellamy made a show of studying Clarke from all angles, sticking out his tongue, and even holding his hands out as if to measure her face. She giggled and asked,
"Is this scientific?"
"Oh, absolutely. Proven time and time again." Bellamy sat up straight and said, "October."
Clarke's eye widened and he knew he'd gotten it right.
"No way. What day?"
Bellamy put on a thoughtful expression. October had been purely a guess. A lucky one.
"October 8th."
Clarke looked shocked.
"No way, I actually got it right?" Bellamy asked.
"Nearly! October 9th."
"Aww, so close!" Bellamy rapped his fist on the table, but Clarke still seemed impressed.
"Who told you?"
"What?"
"There is no way you guessed so close. That's insane."
"What did I say? I've got a talent."
"I guess so."
"So it would be October 9th, 1999?"
Clarke nodded. "Yep, ten nine 'ninety-nine."
Bellamy smiled. "That has a nice ring to it. Ten nine ninety-nine."
"It does."
Clarke tried to guess the date of Bellamy's birthday, but was way off. It was July 3rd, 1995. Then they talked about college football, and Bellamy was thoroughly impressed with Clarke's knowledge about the teams. She was chattering on about Oregon Ducks and the Oregon State University Beavers when Ella brought out their meal.
"Here you are," She said, setting down the plates. "Is this your guys' first date?"
Bellamy's eyes flashed up to the waitress as Clarke cleared her throat.
"Oh no, we're just friends," Bellamy said with a smile.
"Ope, sorry! I just assumed, I heard you guys played the 'guess my birthday' game."
"It's no problem. Thanks, Ella."
"Sure thing, enjoy and let me know if you need anything." Ella hurried away, and Bellamy noted a bit of embarrassment on her face. He felt a bit bad, but perhaps she shouldn't have said something like that. Bellamy looked over to Clarke, seeing immediately the flush in her cheeks due to her pale skin.
"Is that how you guys show your 'Minnesota Nice'? By getting into other people's business?" she questioned.
Bellamy cringed, hoping this wouldn't ruin the good time they had been having.
"Usually, no. Sorry if that made you uncomfortable"
"Don't worry about it," Clarke reached out and grabbed a fry. "These are good!" She said, pushing the incident behind them. Bellamy smiled appreciatively. Clarke was so sweet and easygoing, he didn't even know why he had questioned her in the first place. There was something about her that was so unlike any other girl he had ever met. He mentally berated himself for how cliche that sounded, but God help him, it was true.
"Are you meant to cut it in half?" She asked, picking up her burger.
"No! Half the fun is seeing if you can bite into it far enough to reach the cheese on your first try," Bellamy said, picking up his own Jucy Lucy and demonstrating, practically unhinging his jaw to take a massive bite out of the burger. Clarke looked on, clearly amused and Bellamy turned the burger towards her, so she could see the molten cheese oozing from the patty.
"Good work," she said through a wide smile. "I don't know if I can, but I'll give it my best shot."
Bellamy tried not to choke on the absurd amount of food in his mouth as Clarke took a huge bite from her own burger. The way her eyes lit up when she turned it for Bellamy to see that she had achieved the goal cemented it for him. Clarke was so unlike anyone else he had met, and all in the best ways.
Okay this chapter got a little bit longer than I originally intended. It is definitely the longest chapter thus far. I didn't even have this as part of my overall plan, but I want to challenge myself and work on dialogue, because I feel that is one of the weak points in my writing, so I set out to do just that. And then I just kept going, because I kept thinking of more and more things I wanted Clarke and Bellamy to talk about, so it just kept growing and growing.
I hope it doesn't seem too scattered, but I thought we would all enjoy a little bit of Bellarke fluff.
Also, I don't know if The 100 has real birthdays or middle names for the characters, so I just made up my own. If there are official ones, please excuse my fabricated names and dates.
I would appreciate any feedback you have to give about my dialogue, whether it be criticism or praise, as my main ambition is to better myself as a writer.
And I just want to give a huge thank you to my wonderful beta, kyliEisMC2. Huge round of applause, you help me out so much and I will never say thank you enough.
Thanks for reading!
-Birch66724