CHAPTER 1: THE WALLET
TWO AND A HALF YEARS LATER
30/01/2019
"So… you're going back there."
Raven was scrutinizing Clarke with her big brown eyes. She'd stopped eating, only focusing on the blond in front of her, analyzing the situation. She clearly wasn't happy with Clarke's recent announcement. Clarke felt the sudden need to flee her gaze.
"Yeah," she answered, even if it wasn't a question, really. "But not for long."
"Meaning?"
Clarke picked up her fork and started playing with her food. She told Raven she was leaving two minutes ago, and she already hated having this conversation.
"Meaning… five days, maybe a week. I don't know."
Raven nodded. She went silent for a while, eyes fixed on her friend. Clarke could feel the frustration radiating off her, and she knew the brunette wouldn't be silent for long.
"And when are you leaving?" she blurted.
Clarke took a deep breath. In an attempt to flee the discussion, she put a piece of bread in her mouth and chewed on it slowly. Raven, of course, understood very clearly what she was trying to do.
"You put that bread down and you answer the question, Clarke Griffin. Now."
Clarke swallowed hard. She felt like a child who'd done something wrong and was about to be grounded by her mother. You're 27, Clarke, don't be stupid.
"In two days."
For a second, Raven was taken aback. Then she frowned, and Clarke saw the disapproval in her friend's eyes.
"Two days? Are you serious?"
The mechanic leaned back into her seat, crossing her arms. Her mouth kept opening and closing.
"Oh, I get it," she suddenly said. "You waited until today to tell me, right?"
"Raven I…"
"You know this is fucked up, right? Like, you're going back to a town you used to love, but you're hiding from everyone because, apparently, they all hate you. You can't even go to one of your best friend's wedding because of all of this, so instead you're staying at his place for a few days and then you're leaving without anyone else knowing. Do you realize how stupid this all is?"
"Raven, I know. But it's not like I can congratulate Monty and Harper on the phone and send them an eCard. I've got to see them at least a couple of days before they get married."
"Or. You. Could. Go. To. Their. Wedding." The brunette had leaned in while saying these words, emphasizing each syllable. She put both her hands on the table.
"No," Clarke said, firmly.
"Why the hell not?"
"Because... it's complicated."
"It wouldn't be complicated if you'd tell me what happened, Clarke."
The blond looked away. Maybe she was being weak, but she couldn't hear all of this right now.
"You know what happened."
It was true. It was during one of Clarke's very bad nights. She was completely drunk. Raven confronted her about it the next morning. She didn't remember what she had told the mechanic, but she remembered very clearly the shock she felt when the brunette said to her, in a very casual way, "So. That guy… Hmm, Bellamy right? He forgot about you? How the hell did that happen?"
Raven pleaded for hours to know more, and Clarke never gave up. But neither did Raven.
"No, I don't. Not in detail."
The details. The details would break her and Raven's friendship if she knew. She would hate her. She wouldn't be the only one; Clarke hated herself enough for the both of them.
"I don't want to talk about it."
Raven rolled her eyes and crossed her arms again. She stayed silent for so long, her eyes blank, that Clarke wondered if her friend would speak to her again. But Raven did, after a sigh.
"What if you see him again?" she asked, quietly.
A second before this, Clarke had been stressed but fine. A second after this, Clarke stopped breathing. She felt every muscle in her body tense. Her heartbeat accelerated. She clenched her fists.
"I won't," she managed to answer.
She tried to sound confident, but her voice was nearly shaking. She needed to calm down. Breathe. Everything is fine.
"We'll make sure he… He won't even know that I exist. It'll be okay."
Raven just kept looking at her, worried. A sad smile appeared on her lips.
"I hope so. For you," she finally said.
31/01/2019
Bellamy always carried his wallet with him, as a lot of people did, obviously. But it was a special wallet, and without it he felt lost. Today, he also carried his keys, his phone—which is rare, since he tended to forget he had one—and soon he would also be carrying a lasagna recipe for his very pregnant sister.
"Thank you, Maya, you're saving my life."
He was standing in her and Jasper's apartment, as she was writing down her miraculous recipe. He wasn't staying for long; Octavia was impatiently waiting for him. And the lasagna. Thank god Jasper wasn't home, or else Bellamy would've had to struggle his way out.
"Oh, no worries! I'm happy to help."
She handed him the piece of paper. His sister was finally going to stop harassing him about this. Because, of course, she didn't want any lasagna. She wanted the best lasagna. Maya's lasagna.
"Again, thank you. I owe you a big time. You have no idea."
"Oh my god, is she that insufferable?" Maya laughed.
"Honestly? That is an understatement."
His sister truly was getting on his nerves recently, but still, he couldn't help but smile. His heart was full every time he thought about her and her soon-to-be-born baby boy. It made him happy. Actually, he hadn't been this happy in three years. And it felt good.
"I'll bring you and Jasper some lasagna to thank you. If Octavia doesn't screw it up."
"Don't worry, Bellamy, it's fine," Maya smiled. "If you've got leftovers, then bring them tomorrow. Jasper never refuses good food."
"If it's good," Bellamy added. He didn't fully trust his sister's abilities when it came to cooking.
"Yeah, if it's good," Maya chuckled.
Bellamy looked at his watch. Almost 1pm. Shit.
"I gotta go. See you tomorrow then! Hopefully."
Maya walked him to the door. Bellamy didn't linger. He had to hurry or his sister would kill him on the spot when she saw him.
"See ya!"
"Fucking finally," was Octavia's way of greeting him.
"Hello to you too, dearest little sister. You're welcome," he said as he handed her the recipe. She took it immediately.
"You're late."
Octavia left him on the porch, going straight to the kitchen, one hand holding the recipe and the other on her huge belly. Bellamy went in and closed the door behind him before following her. She'd already started gathering all the ingredients. He wasn't even sure she would be able to cook on her own. She wasn't a great cook anyway, but he was certainly not going to tell her that now.
"Need any help?"
"I'm pregnant, Bellamy, not dying. I can manage."
"Okay, okay."
He couldn't wait until the baby was born. For one, his sister's moods would stop changing every two minutes. It was so stressful he even pitied Lincoln, which was something. But most importantly, he was going to be an uncle. The thought alone made him forgive each of O's tantrums.
Speaking of whom she was running all over the place. One would think her 7-month pregnancy would slow her down a bit. It didn't.
Even if she hadn't given him her consent, Bellamy went to the counter and put some olive oil in the pan.
"You know," Octavia said, "I was thinking maybe we should go see Grandma next weekend."
"We can't."
O cast him a murderous glance.
"And why the fuck not?"
Bellamy was careful to speak in a very soothing tone.
"Because Monty and Harper are getting married next weekend."
"Oh."
Octavia completely stopped moving all of the sudden. She just stood there, looking at her brother. Then tears filled her eyes.
"Oh my god! You're right!"
Bellamy was by his sister's side in a second. It was crazy, he'd never seen Octavia being so emotional in her entire life. He wasn't really used to it.
"Hey, hey, it's okay… It's no big deal."
"Those two idiots. Of course they had to get married now, when I've got a human being growing inside of me!"
Octavia picked up the onions and a knife.
"Oh. Don't worry, it's gonna be f—"
"Time flies. It's crazy. It's like we were introducing Harper to the group two days ago. Look at them now…"
She started aggressively cutting the onions.
"We were so young. So fucking young." She continued. "And we were happy. The whole group, Monty, Jasper, Miller, Harper… even fucking Murphy. I hope he won't be at the wedding."
"Ah. Uh, yeah I think he's coming but..."
"Then there was Lincoln of course," she kept going as if she couldn't hear him. Still cutting the onions. "And you, and Gina…"
She stopped. Bellamy stopped too. The tears fell on her cheeks, but she didn't seem to notice them. Whether she was crying because of her emotions or because of the onions, Bellamy wasn't sure. She turned to her brother and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. She sighed.
"Those were good times," she told him.
Bellamy felt a familiar pain in his chest. The one that reminded him of everything he had lost. Everything he couldn't remember. The one he had been trying to live with for more than two years.
"Yeah. So I've been told," he said.
Because he didn't fucking know. Yes, he remembered most of his life. But starting 5 years ago, all he had were blurry images and weird dreams. He and Gina had been together for 4 years, but most of his memories of her were during the first year. Sometimes, he felt like he barely knew her. She died by his side, and he couldn't remember the very last seconds of her life. Was she happy? Sad? Angry? He knew it wasn't his fault, but he still felt ashamed. When he asked his friends why they took the car that night, even though Gina had been drinking, all they could say was 'I don't know' or 'maybe she wanted to have a moment with you' or 'perhaps you had something to do.' As if no one knew. But they were all there. There had to be more. He kept asking questions for months. After so much time, Bellamy had given up. Constantly trying to remember was exhausting.
But he still wanted to know.
After he left, a box of some actually good lasagna under his arm, Bellamy sat for a few minutes in his car. He needed to think a little. He patted his pocket. Bellamy always carried his wallet with him. It was a special wallet. It held everything that helped him remember who he was—not that he needed to be reminded, really, but it reassured him in a way. Inside, he could find his ID card, his credit card, and most importantly: pictures.
Most of them were of his sister. Miller and Murphy also appeared in some of them. Lincoln too, in the most recent photos they took. His mother. And Gina.
Seeing her always did something to Bellamy. He immediately felt the guilt invading his chest. It had never stopped. He wondered if it ever would.
The car accident had changed his life forever, but it had taken hers. And that's something he still didn't really know how to live with. He got up every morning. He told himself he was fine, he was happy. He was going to be an uncle. He would soon go back to work.
But eventually, his thoughts always drifted somewhere else. He took the pictures out of his wallet, putting them beside him. Then he took out what was hidden behind them.
A drawing, on a small piece of paper he'd folded and unfolded over and over. It was a portrait of him. He was seated, a book in his hands. He was wearing glasses that were probably crushed in the accident. The person who drew it was very talented. But that was the thing, he didn't know who had drawn him. The only clue he had was three words and two letters written on the back.
"I see you. C.G."
