As the new year unspooled, Bellamy and Echo slipped into one of those ill-defined relationships that fall somewhere between casual dating and fuck buddies. But he didn't kid himself that he was doing anything other than taking the path of least resistance. Echo seemed to want to continue having sex with him, and Bellamy couldn't think of a good reason to turn her down.

The strange thing was that even though they were sleeping together and worked in the same building, they rarely socialized during the school day. Or most other times, for that matter.

And that had everything to do with the fact that their friend groups didn't exactly mesh.

The New Year's bash, with its all-inclusive sign-up sheet in the teachers' lounge, had been an anomaly. Day in and day out, Echo hung with the super-sporty types like Dax and Anya. They formed faculty teams and trained for marathons in their spare time. Bellamy's quirkier pals were a whole lot more invested in being the undisputed champs of trivia night. And the only marathons they were interested in were all-day viewings of The Godfather, Parts I, II, and III.

Not that they both didn't give it the occasional shot. In early March, Echo asked Bellamy to sign up for the faculty softball team, but he'd only agree to making himself available as a sub.

"You're in such great shape, Bellamy," she told him, frowning in surprise. "You must like sports."

He shrugged. "I like to get enough exercise, but I'm not that into team sports. And it would be a major time commitment. It's not how I want to spend my every free hour."

She just tried harder to talk him into it.

"Didn't you tell me you were the pitcher for your high school baseball team? We could use a better pitcher than Dax."

"I only played sports in high school to beef up my college applications, Echo. But the commitment was always a pain in the ass and I'm not getting locked into something like that again."

Echo shook her head, unable to imagine being athletically gifted, yet not wanting to pursue competitive sports.

"Sometimes I don't understand you, Bellamy," she said finally.

He had no doubt that was true... and it seemed to go both ways.

When the city's annual classic film festival rolled around in late April, Bellamy was surprised to hear that Echo had never seen Casablanca. But when he offered to take her, she just rolled her eyes and told him, "Those old movies really bore me."

So while the sex continued, they never succeeded in really integrating into each other's lives. As a result, their relationship was mostly confined to the bedroom, or perhaps the occasional meal.

For Bellamy, this was something of a relief. All his friends knew he had something going with Echo. It had never been in any way a secret. But he didn't want to have to label their relationship. Or define it. It was easier to just compartmentalize his life.

Perhaps even stranger, Bellamy's relationship with Clarke continued exactly as it had always been. They were still the best of friends, still lunch buddies and trivia partners, still texted as often as the spirit moved them. And each was still the person the other knew they could always count on.

They also shared similar tastes and values. In fact, when Echo nixed the movie idea, Bellamy asked Clarke if she wanted to accompany him to the one-night-only showing of Casablanca. She excitedly agreed, having never before seen it on the big screen.

Although of course she paid for her own ticket.

"Uh... Echo busy with something else tonight?" she asked off-handedly as they settled into their theater seats. Surprising him, because Clarke never brought up Echo.

"I'm... not sure. But if you mean was she too busy to see the movie, she just... wasn't interested. Said she'd be bored."

His next words slipped out before he could stop them.

"So what about, uh, Niylah? She got something else going on tonight, too?"

Clarke's eyes darted away from him as she shifted in her seat, turning towards the screen just as the lights dimmed.

"Yeah, I think so," she said vaguely. "Uh, hey, I think the movie's starting."

Which was no answer at all.

But then Bellamy knew Clarke's love life was none of his business. That he should just enjoy whatever time he got to spend with her. That it was pointless to ask questions to which he might not like the answers.

XXXXXXXXXX

When school let out in June, Echo left for the summer. She'd been working on a Master's in sports management and had been given the opportunity to study sports in the ancient world through a program that would take her to Greece and Italy for two months.

Bellamy figured Echo would be ecstatic, because he knew he would have been. But he supposed he wasn't completely surprised to hear that she was anything but.

"I know you love all this old stuff," she told him, sighing in resignation, "but for me it just means I'll miss the softball playoffs and most of the marathon season."

"Well, then, why the hell did you even apply for it?"

She shrugged. "My advisor talked me into it. I needed a course on the history of sport to finish my degree, and she said this one was the most prestigious. I never thought I'd get it, but now that I have, I'll look stupid if I don't go. Especially since my summer tuition payment covers almost all my expenses."

Bellamy shook his head in disbelief. "You'd be stupid if you didn't go, Echo, and not just because of the money. Aren't you interested in seeing the rest of the world? Especially civilizations that once ruled the whole fucking western world?"

"Not really?" she said, like it was a question she was asking herself. "Nope," she added, more confident now in her answer. "I like staying in my own backyard. And besides," she eyed him, "I'll miss you. Aren't you gonna miss me?"

At that moment, they were lying in her bed, post-coital, and Bellamy knew it would sound utterly churlish if he were to remind her that they were mostly just sleeping together. That in reality, they were barely friends.

"Of course," he said gallantly, "but you'll be back soon."

When Echo looked like she might have something else to say, Bellamy slid out of bed, quickly pulling on his clothes. He reminded her that she had an early start the next morning and should finish packing.

It took him only a few minutes to dress, and then he leaned down to give her a quick kiss.

"Have a great time," he said. "Try to appreciate it."

Echo nodded, looking vaguely surprised by his somewhat abrupt departure. Bellamy knew he was being kind of a jerk, but his instincts warned him that Echo had another agenda. One he wouldn't want to get into.

If he felt little more than mild envy over Echo's departure, he had a much different reaction when he learned Clarke wouldn't be around that summer either.

"Why did you wait so long to tell me?" he said, distraught, when she dropped by to let him know she'd be leaving the next day.

"Honestly, Bellamy, it just happened. Mom and Dad thought I could... use a break. So they set up this European art tour as a surprise. They just told me yesterday."

Bellamy sighed, thinking he should probably feel envious that Clarke had parents so wealthy they could plan a two-month trip at the drop of a hat. But he didn't. Because Clarke deserved every good thing that happened to her.

But he was puzzled about one thing.

"Why did they think you needed something more than just the regular summer break? I thought your school year went pretty well."

Clarke shrugged, her eyes darting away.

"Uh, you know, they're my parents. They make a... a big deal out of... the smallest thing."

"Well, I guess they're allowed," he smiled. "And this is such a great opportunity for you. But," Bellamy swallowed hard, "I'm gonna miss you a lot."

"Me, too," she said, impulsively throwing her arms around him.

He and Clarke used to hug all the time, but it had been months since that had happened. So when Bellamy felt her body slide against his, he couldn't stop himself from drawing her in, squeezing her tightly, nuzzling her neck, doing everything he could to prolong the contact.

"Clarke," he breathed, feeling his heart speed up. But before he could even begin to process her sudden nearness she was abruptly pulling away.

"Gotta go," she said quickly, her face flushed as she gave him a soft smile. "I still have a few other people to say goodbye to."

"Yeah? What did... Niylah say?" he couldn't stop himself from asking. "About you being gone?"

"Niylah? I haven't told her yet but she'll probably say the same thing you did. That it's a great opportunity."

Bellamy frowned in confusion. "And that's it? Her girlfriend will be gone all summer and she's not gonna be... upset?"

"Bellamy," Clarke sighed, finally shrugging. "It's not like that with Niylah and me. I'm... not her girlfriend."

"What?"

"We're... mostly... just good friends. It's not like with you and... Echo..."

"Clarke..."

But she interrupted him quickly, like maybe she didn't want to hear whatever it was he might be going to say next.

"I have to go, Bellamy. I've got a million things to do today. I'll text you, let you know when I get to the Louvre and the Uffizi."

And then she was gone, and Bellamy began to miss her before his door had even closed.

He took his usual summer job doing construction, where the extra hours of daylight meant that employers were always looking for experienced temporary help. The long strenuous days kept him busy, kept him from missing Clarke more than he could bear.

From the beginning, she proved to be a good correspondent, texting him almost daily, often including snaps of the exciting places she was visiting. Every once in a while, the envy started to slither back into his head, but mostly he was just happy that Clarke was enjoying herself.

Sometimes, later in the evenings - often very late at night for Clarke - they'd talk about other things, more personal things, than art and museums. That's when Bellamy finally got up the courage to ask about Niylah.

I don't know why you thought we had this big serious relationship, she finally texted, after he'd probed for the third time. And maybe it was late enough at night, or she was far enough away, that she finally felt comfortable being frank. Niylah and I were only ever having fun.

He tried to wrap his mind around it. That for nearly eight months everything he'd thought about Clarke's personal life had been wrong. That he'd wasted all that time because he'd made assumptions that weren't true.

And he had a feeling that Clarke might have made some of those same wrong assumptions, too.

Bellamy wrestled with the idea of texting an explanation about Echo, but somehow that felt wrong. That it was a topic that needed to be discussed in person. The whole stupid misunderstanding had been his fault. It had started with Echo kissing him on New Year's Eve, and him being too afraid - and too stupid - to sort it out right then and there. He needed to look Clarke in the eye when he explained, to make sure she really understood.

It could wait the couple of weeks until she got home.

In contrast, and as he'd more or less expected, Echo proved not to be a good correspondent at all. Her texts and emails were infrequent to begin with and quickly petered out to perhaps one short message a week.

(Although at one point, early on, she'd tried to get him to engage in phone sex via Face Time, but Bellamy had nixed that idea. As far as he was concerned, he was not only enthusiastic but pretty damned uninhibited in the bedroom. But he drew the line at sex via technology. It just didn't seem... private enough.)

In truth, Echo's inability to communicate was something of a relief. He took it as a sign that after the summer break he was going to be able to back away from the whole liaison as painlessly as possible.

While he wasn't sure of the exact date of Echo's return, he knew almost to the hour when Clarke was due back. Bellamy had been scheduled to work that day, but as luck would have it heavy rains had shut down his construction crew. So he was home after all when he heard the knock at his door.

But when he opened it, it wasn't Clarke who was standing in his doorway.

"Bellamy!" Echo cried, throwing herself at him enthusiastically. "I wasn't sure you'd even be home, and since I don't have a key..."

When she stopped talking and started kissing him instead, Bellamy was too startled to do anything but kiss her back. It took him a few seconds to pull away, to remind himself that his intention was to break it off with Echo, not jump back into it.

"Echo! You didn't tell me you were coming by today," he said, closing the door behind her.

"Why should I have to tell you?" she shrugged. "I just got back and of course I couldn't wait to see you."

They were no longer kissing, but she was still clinging to him tightly when he heard a key in the lock and watched his apartment door swing open for a second time.

"Oh!" Clarke stood frozen in the doorway, wide-eyed and startled, as she gaped at the two of them seemingly locked in an embrace. "I'm so sorry to, uh, intrude. I didn't really think you'd be home, Bellamy. I was sure you'd be working..."

"Rain," he said faintly, too surprised and too muddled to say another word.

"Of course!" Clarke continued brightly, her speech becoming faster and faster until soon she was racing along. "Well, uh, I was going to leave this for you..."

Bellamy suddenly noticed the bag in her hand.

"...it's, uh, just a replica of Winged Victory that I got for you at the Louvre gift shop. I thought you'd like it and I was just going to leave it and see how long it took you to notice it. But I didn't realize you'd be home, or that you'd have company, and I am so, so sorry for interrupting."

Clarke stopped abruptly, gasping, like she suddenly needed to take a breath.

"There's nothing be sorry for, Clarke," Bellamy said, finally managing to removing Echo's hands from his waist. "Why don't you... come in?"

"No! I really have to get going. Here," she said, thrusting the bag at him and backing away through the still-open doorway. She turned and began to walk quickly down the hallway.

"Wait!" he said, chasing after her. "You don't have to leave. Echo just got here..."

"Well, then I really am interrupting your reunion," she said, her face flushing in embarrassment, as she paused in her flight.

"But... you and I get to have a reunion, too, Clarke. I wish you'd come in. Or... or maybe I could meet you later... after, uh, Echo leaves."

"Sorry! I'm, um, meeting someone for drinks in a little while..."

"Niylah?" he couldn't stop himself from asking.

She shook her head. "No, it's... one of my mom's old med students. Cillian. We ran into him in France and he wanted to get together when we got back. So I agreed to drinks..."

"Right now? But you just got home! And I haven't seen you all summer..."

Bellamy knew he probably sounded idiotic, but his disappointment was so sharp that he couldn't seem to help himself.

"We'll see each other soon, of course," Clarke said quickly, beginning to back away once again. "Harper's having the whole gang over on Saturday, before school starts..."

"What's going on, Bellamy?" Echo suddenly appeared in his doorway.

Bellamy barely heard her, but Clarke jumped like a cat on a hot tin roof.

"I gotta go, Bellamy," she said again, and then she was racing down the hallway.

Bellamy could do nothing but watch her retreating back.

"Why does she have a key?" Echo asked as soon as they were back inside his apartment.

"What? Oh, she's had it for a long time, ever since I moved in here."

"But... I don't even have a key..."

Bellamy frowned at her. "Clarke is my best friend, Echo. You know that."

"Yeah, but why does she need a key..."

"Look," he interrupted sharply, "I don't want to talk about Clarke or keys, so if you've got nothing else to say..."

"I don't really wanna talk at all," Echo said, smirking, and then she was wrapped around him again, kissing him hard.

And even though Bellamy knew he was using her for comfort, because he couldn't be with Clarke - and now Clarke might have this new guy, Cillian - and though he'd known for weeks that he really needed to break it off with Echo... even after all that, he still just... let it happen.