Chapter 108
The Rockets tried a long pass play into the end zone as the game clock ticked down to zero, but the receiver didn't catch it. The crowd let out a disappointed moan, and the players' shoulders all slumped in disappointment.
"And that brings us to the end of the quarter," the announcer declared. "Rockets trail by three at the half."
Clarke gave Octavia a worried look. They'd both become a lot more invested in this team after the players had been so adamant in standing by Bellamy. Whether it was him down there coaching them or only Miller, as was once again the case tonight, Clarke really wanted to see them win.
"Well," Octavia said, "the good news is, it's the closest homecoming game this school's had in a while."
That was something then. Clarke had stopped paying attention to the high school scores after she'd graduated, but she did recall hearing about truly disastrous homecoming games over the past few years. Like fifty point blowouts.
Halftime gave them the perfect excuse to go get some food from the concession stand. Clarke left Avery with Lincoln, because she wasn't going to try carrying a baby and her food this time. Especially since the booster club was doing concessions for this game, and they had a full on taco meal going.
"I hope they can play better next half," she said as they waited in line. "This other team seems pretty tough."
"Hopefully Miller can motivate them," Octavia said.
"Yeah." She didn't doubt that Miller was a good coach, too, but when it came to inspiring speeches, no one could fill Bellamy's shoes.
Clarke thought she heard some familiar voices behind her—ones she hadn't heard for years and had no desire to—so she looked around behind her, spotting two people who looked . . . familiar, but at the same time, very different.
"Is that Dax?" she asked Octavia. "And Josephine?" There was a couple arguing at one of the tables. The guy had a big beer belly and long beard, and the girl had messy, dirty blonde hair and was wearing some grungy-looking clothes.
"Ugh, unfortunately," Octavia confirmed.
No way, Clarke thought, unable to keep from staring at them. They didn't look good, that was for sure. Josephine looked strung-out, and Dax just looked angry. He was yelling at her, and she was screeching right back at him. The sad part was, it looked like they had two kids now. One was asleep in a stroller, but the other one, a little boy who was toddling around, was crying, and they weren't paying any attention to him.
"You're lucky you graduated when you did," Octavia told her. "I had to suffer through three years of high school with that girl. She's such a bitch. She comes back every year for homecoming, though, because she can't ever let anyone forget she got voted queen once."
"Ew." Clarke hated it when girls like Josephine got voted queen in anything. People didn't vote for them because they were nice or smart. They voted for them because they were afraid of them. "I can't believe they're still together," she said, trying to look away from them, but they were like a train wreck, and they didn't seem to care that they were arguing so publicly.
"Well, they cheat on each other all the time," Octavia gossiped. "Who knows if those kids are even his?"
"Oh, god." Even though Clarke didn't like either of them, she felt sorry for their children. That little boy, in particular . . . she just wanted to run over and hug him, because he was still crying, and his parents still weren't doing anything about it. "Poor kid." It wasn't fun for a child of any age to be around parents who were fighting all the time.
...
Clarke had loads of homework to do, but when she walked inside her house, she didn't know how she was going to do any of it. Both her parents were home, which was definitely unusual, but what wasn't unusual, sadly, was that they were fighting. Their loud voices greeted her at the door, and even though it sounded like they were in the living room, she could hear everything they were saying perfectly clearly.
"You know, Abby, if it wasn't for you . . ."
"Here we go again. You just won't let it go, will you?"
Clarke rolled her eyes, dropping her backpack at the door. Why couldn't they both let it go and just stop yelling?
"No. For the rest of my life, I will hold this against you," she heard her dad say.
"What about Clarke? Will you hold it against her?"
Feeling the need to intervene, Clarke headed into the living room. They both fell silent when she walked in. "What's going on?" she asked.
"Oh, Clarke, honey." Her mom rubbed her temples as she paced in front of the couch where her dad slept, as though she had a bad headache already. "I thought you had, um . . . the Quiz Team practice today."
"Quiz Bowl," Clarke corrected. "That was yesterday." Tonight, she just had two tests to study for and a whole essay to edit. And two parents to continue worrying about, apparently.
"I'm glad you're on that team now," her dad said. "I think it's been good for you."
Why was he trying to get her talking about Quiz Bowl when there was obviously something much more important going on? She had a bad, nervous feeling in her stomach. "You guys didn't answer my question. What's going on? Why are you always fighting?"
Her parents exchanged a quick look, and her mom took a seat on the couch and said, "Honey, why don't you come sit down here? We need to talk to you."
Oh, no, she thought, immediately fearing the worst. She'd tried not to imagine this too much, but any time she had imagined it, the conversation had always started out with her mom saying, 'We need to talk.'
Warily, she sat down on the couch, her whole body a bundle of nerves as she waited for what felt like inevitable.
"Clarke, we are . . . we're so sorry that you've overheard some of our arguments," her mom said. "We should've controlled ourselves better around you."
"Or you could just stop arguing," she suggested. That seemed like the best solution to her.
"It's not that simple," her father said.
"Sure it is." They could just talk about some other stuff, or maybe take a couple days off and go on a mini-vacation together. Of course she didn't want to think about her parents having sex or anything, but hey, if that was what it took for them to get back on good terms . . .
"Clarke, your father and I have tried to see eye to eye on some of our . . . issues," her mom said.
"What issues? You never had issues until . . ." God, this was so frustrating. Six months ago, there arguments had been so few and far between. "This is my fault."
"No, not at all," her father said. "Don't even think that."
"No one's blaming you, sweetheart," her mom assured her. "Sometimes people just grow apart."
They hadn't come out and said it yet, but it was pretty obvious where this was all heading. And Clarke was still so desperate to steer them in a different direction. "Yeah, but that doesn't mean you can't stay together," she said. "You guys do wanna try to stay together. Right?"
Neither of her parents would make eye contact with her. Her mom still did most of the talking, though, when she hung her head and said sadly, "We've gone back and forth about this a lot. It isn't a decision we just made in one day. But after giving it a lot of thought, we've both decided that it's best if we're . . . not together anymore."
No, no, no, Clarke thought as everything inside her just rebelled against what she was hearing. "So . . . what? You guys are separating?" If it was just that, then maybe they'd get back together after a little time apart. Maybe they just needed a break.
Her dad was the one who finally stated it bluntly: "Clarke, your mom and I are getting a divorce."
She stared at him in horror, and that word started to reverberate around her mind. Divorce. Divorce? Her parents weren't the kind of parents who were supposed to get divorced. They'd been married for a long time now. They had a nice a house and good jobs. They had her.
"This isn't gonna change the fact that we're a family," her dad reassured her right away. "We'll always be a family. I'll still be a part of your life, she'll still be a part of your life. You're our daughter, and we both love you. Very much."
"You're the most important thing in the world to us," her mom added tearfully. "That will never change."
"But some things will." She heard what they were saying, but it all just kind of seemed like a way to . . . placate her. Like they didn't want her freaking out, so they were just telling her what they thought she wanted to hear.
"You're right," her dad said. "We obviously won't be living together anymore. And that'll be a big adjustment."
She started thinking about holidays, like the ones they'd just celebrated not all that long ago, and how they would never be the same again. They hung stockings on the fireplace every year, except none of them had bothered to get them out this year. There were three of them, though, with their names on them. Would there only be two next year? And whose two would it be? Or would there still be three, except . . . someone else. Were her parents gonna start dating again? Was she gonna have a stepmom or stepdad?
"Where am I gonna live?" she asked them, picturing herself bouncing back and forth between households. "Do I have to alternate or just pick one of you or . . ."
"That's something we'll need to figure out. But we're not gonna put you in a position where you have to choose between us, not ever," her mom said. "Right now, it'd be easier for your father to relocate since he travels a lot for his job anyway."
"Relocate where?" What if he went to another state and she never saw him again? She'd already lost Bellamy to that; she couldn't lose her dad, too.
"Maybe somewhere here in Arkadia," her dad said. "Or somewhere nearby."
How near was nearby, though? They weren't giving her any concrete answers, so she felt like they were just leaving her to grapple with all of this all on her own.
"Don't worry about having to move or switch schools or anything like that," her mom said. "This is your home. Upstairs is your room. None of that's changing."
"So I'm staying with you then?"
"I'd say that's most likely."
"It is," her dad agreed.
She looked at him with full wells of tears in her eyes, a few of them falling down. Even though she loved both her parents, her dad was the more understanding one, the easier one to get along with. But he'd also been the more distant one for half a year now. It was like he couldn't quite look at her the same.
"That doesn't mean you'll never see me," he said, reaching over to grab her hand and hold it between both of his tightly. "I'll still be at your graduation and music concerts and parent/teacher conferences. You just might not live with me."
Didn't that mean they were just gonna grow more distant then? Didn't he care?
"But we'll spend a lot of weekends together," he promised her, "maybe even the whole summer."
"The whole summer?" she echoed.
"Yeah. Wouldn't that be fun?"
Would it? She had no idea.
"You know, the more that I think about it, this could actually work out well," he said. "You needed a reason to not be home over summer vacation, and now you have one."
She huffed, wishing he'd temper his enthusiasm just a little. "So I should be happy my parents are getting divorced because it's gonna help me avoid Bellamy?"
"That's not what I meant," he told her, although . . . that was pretty much what he'd just said. "I'm just trying to look at the bright side."
"What? There is no bright side here, Dad!" she shouted. "You guys are splitting up. There's nothing good about that."
"There really is, though," her mom said. "And I know you can't understand that now, and we don't expect you to. But we know it's for the best, that we'll be happier apart than we are together."
If they loved each other, though, Clarke didn't see how they could possibly be happier apart. She was apart from the person she loved, and she'd never been more miserable.
"And it'll help you, too," her mom insisted. "You don't deserve to be around all this fighting."
She grunted frustratedly. "Maybe not, but apparently I'm the cause of it."
"No, not at all. We already told you, this is not your fault," her father reiterated.
"It kind of is." No matter how much they tried to sugarcoat it for her, there was no mistaking the heated words she'd heard exchanged between them. Over and over again. "Anytime I hear you guys yelling at each other, it's about the abortion."
"Please don't say that word, Clarke," her dad said, wincing.
"Why not? It's what I did." Neither of them ever talked about it with her, but it hung over their entire home like the darkest of clouds. "I had an abortion, and you keep blaming Mom for it. And Mom, you expect him to just get past it, like it's nothing."
"I know it's not nothing," she claimed.
"Really?" her dad said, immediately getting combative again. "Because you act like it's no big deal."
"Oh, please," she scoffed at him. "When have I ever-"
"Just stop it, okay?" Clarke screeched, throwing her hands up. "God, why do you guys have to . . ." The experience had been the most traumatic for her, obviously, yet they were using it to fuel their own incessant fighting.
"We're sorry, honey," her mom quickly apologized. "But you see, this is the kind of problem we've been having."
"So your solution is to get a divorce?" That just didn't sit right with her. Maybe that meant she was being judgmental, but she was the kid who had absolutely no say in this, so she didn't feel the slightest big obligated to put herself in their shoes. "No, that's not what you're supposed to do!" she screamed at them, so pissed that they weren't trying harder to make things work. "You guys are married. You promised to be there for each other in good times and in bad times. You made vows, and now you're not even trying to uphold them!"
"I understand why you see it that way," her mom said slowly, "but when you're older and you get married someday . . ."
"When I get married someday, I'm not gonna just give up when things get hard," she said, standing. "I would never do that. And I can't believe you guys are going to." She stormed towards the stairs, so completely done with both of them in that moment.
"Clarke . . ." her dad said, but she marched right upstairs without slowing down. She didn't want to talk to them anymore, and she didn't even want to see them for the rest of the night.
She practically ran into her bedroom, threw the door shut, and flung herself down on her bed, sobbing. Once again, it just seemed like everything in her life was falling apart.
...
Clarke had to look away from Josephine and Dax, because it was just too much, and she felt so bad for their kids. It also made her think about how she and Bellamy had such an awful fight with Avery in the house. Thankfully, she wouldn't remember any of it. But if she'd been a couple years older, it might have ended up being one of her earliest memories. It was just yet another thing to feel guilty about, even though she was still trying her hardest not to feel too guilty.
"Are you even listening?" Octavia asked, pulling her out of her thoughts.
"What?" She really wasn't.
"Your birthday next week," Octavia said. "Are we celebrating?"
"Oh. Oh, god, I hadn't even thought about that." Her own damn birthday wasn't even on her radar, because it just didn't seem that important in the grand scheme of things.
"Well, if you wanna have a party, I could probably throw something together," Octavia offered. "Or we could make Raven do it."
Clarke laughed a little. That girl had thrown so many celebratory events together for her this past year.
"Or it could just be a smaller get-together," Octavia suggested.
"What about a no get-together?" Clarke asked. "It's just . . . it's hard to picture myself celebrating without Bellamy there." Sure, she'd had plenty of birthdays without him, but last year, he'd been at her party, and he'd gotten her that sketchbook that was nearly full of drawings now. To go from that to this would just be . . . a letdown. "I don't know how much of a party spirit there'd be," she said, wrinkling her nose at the thought of it.
"But it is still your birthday," Octavia pointed out. "Whatever you decide is fine. But just know that you've got family and friends who wanna make it a good day for you."
When she put it like that . . . it was tempting to at least do something. Because of course she wanted it to be a good day, too. Even if it wasn't the best birthday ever, she didn't want to spend it by herself.
...
Raven opened the door to her apartment slowly and said in a very calm and even tone, "Happy birthday. Welcome to your 'subdued' celebration, per you request."
"Thank you," Clarke said, stepping inside. She was the first one there, but Murphy was in the kitchen frosting a cake that looked big enough to feed dozens.
"Where's Avery?" Raven asked, pouting.
"With Aurora," she replied. "I wasn't sure if this subdued party was actually gonna be subdued or not, so I figured I wouldn't bring her."
"Oh, it is," Murphy assured her. "Yep, nothing too crazy happening here. But! We do have the classic game Pin the Tail on the Donkey over there." He motioned into his living room, where a very-badly hand-drawn donkey poster was taped up next to the TV. "And if you decide you want it, there might be a piñata in the bathtub."
She gave him a confused look, not sure why a piñata would be in there.
"Well, that was our hiding place for it," he explained as if he was reading her mind.
"Sure, I won't say no to a piñata," Clarke said. "So who's all coming?"
"Everyone," Raven answered. "We're gonna pack this place full just like we did for New Year's." She seemed to regret saying that right after the words left her mouth, because she winced and shook her head.
"New Year's was great," Clarke said. She and Bellamy had totally fucked in Murphy and Raven's bathroom. They'd made resolutions. Stuck to some of them.
"I'm gonna go get that piñata," Raven said, heading into the bathroom.
"I bought it. It's pretty cool," Murphy boasted. "It's also a donkey. Rainbow-colored. And it says 'I'd Hit That.'"
That was so stupid, but she couldn't help but laugh at it. This would be a very different birthday party than what she'd had last year, but she just felt lucky enough to have friends who wanted to make sure she had one. At this point, she probably needed to start compensating Raven for all the parties she'd thrown for her.
Everyone began showing up a few minutes later, with the more responsible people like Monty and Harper actually arriving on time and less responsible people like Jasper showing up half an hour late. Clarke asked him where Maya was and found out that they had actually broken up. Awkward. But Jasper told her that it'd just happened recently and he didn't blame her for not knowing when she had so much else going on.
Miller brought a date, which was good to see, although he insisted that it was probably nothing serious. Octavia and Lincoln brought a ton of presents, but Octavia spilled the beans and said that some of them were actually gifts for Avery. "I can't go shopping anymore without buying things for my niece," she said.
Relatable, Clarke thought. Whenever she went anywhere to buy anything, she usually always came home with something for Avery.
By far, the biggest surprise guest was Lexa. Clarke hadn't expected her to be able to come, and in fact, she was an hour later because Raven had accidentally texted her the wrong time. She got there as they were playing a riveting game of Pin the Tail on the Donkey, and Clarke was so glad to see her. It was nice to have one ex that she was still friends with.
While the boys took turns whacking away at the piñata, never quite succeeding in breaking it open, Clarke stood in the kitchen with Lexa, chatting, catching up. Lexa got distracted when Jasper finally just pounced on the piñata, though, and she laughed, remarking, "Jasper's such a child."
"Totally," Clarke agreed. Before the party was over, she wanted to check in with him and see how he was doing with Bellamy's whole . . . situation. He and Bellamy weren't as close as Bellamy and Miller or Bellamy and Murphy were, but it was no secret that Jasper had idolized him in high school and, to some extent, probably still did.
"Well, it's really good to see you again," Lexa said, redirecting the conversation.
"Yeah," Clarke agreed. "What's it like being back?"
"Kind of weird," Lexa admitted. "Nothing against Arkadia, because it was a good place to go to school and everything, but . . . I'm feeling pretty great about where I'm at now. I love living with Costia. And I think I'm gonna propose to her soon."
"Wow." Clarke had pegged Monty and Harper as the next of her friend group to get married—if not them, Lincoln and Octavia, much to Bellamy's inevitable horror. "That's exciting."
"Yeah. I can't wait to be married to her. It's gonna be great."
Clarke nodded. It was, but that didn't mean it was always gonna be easy. Sliding her ring around on her finger, she said, "Marriage is . . . a commitment. I don't regret it, though."
"You shouldn't," Lexa said. "It sounds like Bellamy's doing what he needs to do to get better."
"Yeah." She hadn't heard from him in a few days, but the last time they'd talked, he'd warned her that he was going to start unpacking some pretty heavy stuff in his therapy sessions, and he felt like he might just need to focus on that for a little while. "I saw him last Thursday, and he seemed pretty good," she said, smiling at the memory of his hand holding hers as they'd walked down the hall. "I hope that continues."
"It will," Lexa stated confidently. "I'm so sorry you guys are dealing with this, though."
"Me, too." Even if it made them a stronger couple in the long run, she still wished they weren't going through it. "I just never thought things would happen this way, you know? I mean, I know every couple deals with crap and has to overcome their problems, but . . . for it to happen so soon after we got married . . . it just kind of threw me for a loop."
Lexa took a drink—of lemonade, because even without Bellamy in attendance, that was all they were serving—and said, "Maybe that's because you guys have actually been married a long time."
Clarke frowned, not understanding. "What—what do you mean?"
"Well, hear me out: You had your wedding day this summer. Beautiful white dress, exchanging the rings, and I'm guessing a hot and heavy honeymoon that followed."
"Oh, yeah." The honeymoon had been great. The pizza delivery sex alone . . .
"But that's not the same as your marriage," Lexa went on, starting to make more sense now. "I mean, you just said it yourself, marriage is a commitment. And I think you've been committed to Bellamy Blake for a long time."
"How long?" Clarke asked curious to know what her ex thought.
"Well . . . let's just put it this way," Lexa said. "And I'm not mad about this, by the way: But even when you were with me . . ." She laughed lightly, shaking her head. "Clarke, I always knew you'd end up with him."
Always? Clarke wondered, wishing she'd had that certainty. The only reason she'd ever started dating Lexa was because she'd finally let herself believe things with Bellamy were really over. And that reasoning had, of course, carried over into her relationship with Finn.
...
Clarke was dangerously close to falling asleep on the couch that night—but she wouldn't, because Avery was rolling around on her play mat on the floor—when her phone rang. It couldn't be Bellamy. He'd called earlier to wish her a happy birthday and promise he'd make it up to her for missing it, but it'd been a quick call, because he said he'd had a heavy day of therapy. So she knew it had to be her dad before she even saw his name on the screen. She smiled as she answered, glad that he hadn't forgotten. "Hi, Dad."
"Hey, kiddo," he said. "Happy birthday." He blew on a party horn, and Clarke had to hold the phone away from her ear because the sound was so loud.
"Thanks," she said.
"Twenty-three now, huh? Time flies."
She looked down at Avery, who was turning herself over from stomach to back with no problem at all now. "Yeah, it does."
"How was your day?" he asked her. "Did you do anything fun?"
"Uh, yeah, my friends threw me a little party. We had a good time," she said. "And then I went over to Mom's for dinner. Aurora came, too. She brought a cake." She'd basically ended up on a sugar high that day, but now she was coming down from it and felt pretty tired.
"I wish I could've been there, but work's so busy right now," he said.
"That's okay." They had the holidays coming up in a few months. If they didn't see each other before then, they'd still see each other soon-ish.
"But you should be getting a package from me in the next day or two," he said.
"I'll have to check my mail then." She'd gotten a lot of nice gifts today and didn't really feel like she needed anymore, but of course she wasn't going to turn a belated birthday present down.
He fell silent for a moment, and Clarke sensed that he was gearing up to transition into a more serious conversation. "So how are you doing?" he finally asked. "Are you managing alright?"
"Yes," she assured him. "It's been a little stressful, but I think I've got a handle on things. For the most part." The breastfeeding was still not happening as easily as she wanted it, too. In fact, this morning, it'd taken nearly a full hour to get Avery fed. She was going to have to break down and use that breast pump to try to get things going again, because she really didn't want to have to switch to formula, and Avery still hadn't shown any signs of being ready to switch to solid foods yet.
"Well, if you ever need any help, you know I'm always here," her dad reminded her.
"I know." She considered herself pretty lucky to have two parents who loved her, a really kind stepdad, a young and hip step . . . mom? (still weird), and a mother-in-law who defied all mother-in-law stereotypes. "I should've swung by to see you last week," she said. "I was up in Baltimore visiting Bellamy."
"Really? How'd that go?"
"It went well," she said. "I actually had a really nice time." She would have been willing to go back this week, too, but she trusted him to invite her whenever he felt like the time was right.
"That's encouraging," her dad said.
"It is." She didn't expect everything to be completely smooth sailing when he got home, but that feeling she'd had last Thursday still hadn't gone away. So that was a good sign.
When Avery rolled over so fast that her toy fell out of her hand and out of her reach, she started to cry, prompting Jake to say, "Oh, I hear my granddaughter."
"Yeah, it's just about her bedtime," Clarke said. "You mind if I let you go?"
"That's fine. Just wanted to wish my daughter happy birthday. I'm glad you had a good day."
"Thanks, Dad." All things considered, it hadn't been the worst birthday in the world, although she did hope that Bellamy would be celebrating it with her next year. Because that would make it ten times better.
"I love you," her dad said.
"Love you, too. Bye." She ended the call, set her phone down on the coffee table, and stood up and stretched. She'd been lying on that couch for too long, about an hour, so her back felt kind of stiff. "Okay, Avery, let's put you to bed-" she said, stopping short when she saw what her little girl was doing. Not just crying for the toy, not just reaching for it, but crawling towards it.
"Oh my god," Clarke gasped, kneeling down in front of the toy so she could watch her and coax her forward. "Yes, baby girl, look at you go! Come to Mommy. You got it, you got it." Using her forearms and her knees, she progressed forward mere inches, but still . . . she was crawling.
She was . . . crawling.
Clarke's initial excitement vanished in an instant, replaced by a deep ache in her stomach. Because she'd just told Bellamy last week that he hadn't missed anything yet, that Avery was probably waiting to have all her milestones when he got home. But she wasn't waiting. She was getting closer and closer to that toy, and he wasn't there to see it.
Oh, no, she thought, feeling like he would be devastated if he knew this was happening without him. It was a mix of emotions even for her, because part of her was still so excited to see this, and part of her was heartbroken.
Quickly, she scrambled back over to the coffee table, grabbed her phone, and started taking a video so that he'd at least have something to watch if he wanted to. It wouldn't be the same, but it was better than nothing. She had to capture this moment for him.
"Look who's crawling," she said as a mix of both happy and sad tears fell from her eyes. "Look at you go."