Chapter 7
The first thing Clarke thought about when she woke up was Bellamy. Before she even opened her eyes, she thought back to last night, how they'd ended up doing it twice before falling asleep. He'd worked a little magic with his fingers before the second time, though, so she'd ended up having three orgasms. Bellamy was so different than Finn was in bed. Truthfully, Finn wasn't the worst by any means, but usually her maximum orgasm count with him was one. And it'd been pretty typical for him to get himself off and just completely neglect her satisfaction.
She rolled over onto her back, expecting to find Bellamy next to her, probably still asleep, but the left side of her bed was empty. Too empty.
"Bellamy?" she called quietly, sitting up and clutching the sheet to her chest. She didn't hear any noise coming from the bathroom, so either he'd gone downstairs, or he'd left.
She didn't have much time to contemplate it, because seconds after sitting up, her stomach started to churn. She felt really nauseous, like all of Aurora's casserole from last night was about to come back up. "Oh, god," she said, clamping her hand down over her mouth. She shot out of bed and ran into the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet in time. Sliding to her knees, she'd just managed to lift the lid before throwing up.
It felt gross. It looked gross. It smelled gross. But there was no holding it back.
Just to make sure it was over, she stayed hunched over the toilet for a minute or so afterward. Her stomach roiled and rumbled, and she wasn't sure if more stuff was going to come up. When she was fairly certain she was done, though, so flushed the toilet and moved back from it, feeling like a mess. Thank God Bellamy hadn't still been asleep in that bed. She would have hated for him to see her like this right now. Not that he hadn't ever held her hair back for her while she puked, because he had. But a hangover was different than morning sickness. This was gonna be consistent and consistently rough if this first bout of nausea was any indicator.
After brushing her teeth two times, swirling around some mouthwash, and splashing some water on her face, Clarke got dressed—nothing but a loose-fitting t-shirt and some pink shorts—and headed downstairs. Bellamy was indeed still there, already dressed, busy moving some scrambled eggs around a frying pan. "Hey," he said. "Hope you're hungry for breakfast, 'cause I'm makin' way too much."
She glanced at the table and noticed he'd set out two plates, and both of them already had pancakes and sausage links on them. He'd probably cooked everything just fine, but nothing smelled particularly appetizing. Probably another pregnancy symptom, she assumed, because eggs, pancakes, and sausage were typically all foods she liked.
"Are you not hungry?" he asked when she failed to respond.
"No, it's just . . ." Food of any sort right now sounded like a bad idea. "I feel kinda nauseous."
His eyebrows arched a bit. "Oh."
"Yeah." Although she'd been hoping to avoid morning sickness, she'd read that it could start in the sixth week, so she couldn't say she was surprised. "I just threw up a little."
He turned down the heat on the stove and declared, "That's not gonna stop me from kissing you." Then he leaned down and planted a quick peck right on her mouth.
"You're a brave man," she said. Even though she'd brushed her teeth and used the mouthwash, she still felt pretty gross. Knowing her luck, she'd be stuck with an awful taste in her mouth all day.
"I could make toast," he offered. "I think toast is supposed to be good on an upset stomach."
She tried to smile appreciatively, because god, he was being so adorable. What kind of girl didn't love the thought of her man making her breakfast after a passionate night of lovemaking? She felt spoiled, and that was sweet of him to make her feel that way.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"Nothing," she said. Nothing was wrong about what he was doing. Even if she couldn't stomach the food right now, it was the thought that counted.
"No, something," he said, seeing right through her. "It's okay, you can tell me."
Could she? She really didn't want to hurt his feelings. But in the back of her mind was this nagging voice reminding her that this wasn't fair to him, that it wasn't his responsibility to be there for her through all of this. "I just . . ." She hesitated for a moment, finding it difficult to actually say the words on the tip of her tongue. More than anything, she would have loved to be able to just sit down at the table with Bellamy right now, eat up, and maybe crawl back into bed and have some more fun with him today. But she couldn't do that. Not when her day was likely going to consist of more nausea. "Bellamy, I don't think we can keep doing this," she told him sadly.
"Doing what?" he echoed.
"This. Sex. Not when I'm . . . pregnant." She'd barely said that word out loud since she'd found out, because he was the only person she could say it to.
He turned off the heat on the stove burner altogether and frowned, a concerned look in his eyes. "Did I do something wrong?" he asked her.
"No, you were—you were great," she quickly assured him. "I mean, obviously you know that you were great. It's just that things are kinda complicated for me right now. I still haven't even told Finn, and . . ." She trailed off, sighing shakily. "It's just a lot for me to deal with."
"So sleep with me," he suggested, a slight smirk on his face, "get your mind off things."
It didn't work that way, though, nice as it would have been. Sleeping with him just gave her more to think about. "I feel like it's just making everything more complicated," she admitted.
His teasing grin fell, and he lowered his head and mumbled, "Sorry."
"No, it's not your fault," she said. If anything, it was hers. She was the one who'd gone ahead and slept with him last week, even though she'd known she might be pregnant with somebody else's kid. She was the one who'd let it happen again last night, even though she had her reservations. "Being with you . . . I love it," she told him. "You know I love it. It feels really good, and for a while, it makes me forget about everything else I'm dealing with."
He lifted his head, smiling a bit, but it didn't last. "But?" he prompted.
"But . . ." It just wasn't as simple as it'd been back in high school. They weren't those same people anymore. "Then the reality comes crashing back in," she said sadly, "and the reality is . . . I need to think about this baby right now. That's just what I have to do."
To his credit, Bellamy wasn't an ass about anything. He thought about that for a moment, then nodded and said, "I understand."
"You do?" Honestly, she wouldn't have blamed him if he'd been mad at her for, like, leading him on or something.
"Well, as much as I can, yeah," he said. "I don't wanna make things even more confusing for you. But . . ." Reaching out, he stroked her cheek with his thumb. "I don't know how I'm gonna stay away from you, either."
"Well, you don't have to stay away," she told him. "It's a small town. We know a lot of the same people. We're gonna see each other." They needed to learn how to see each other without . . . seeing all of each other.
"Look but don't touch, huh?" He winced. "Sounds like torture."
It probably would be, but she felt like it was for the best. "Maybe we just need to be friends," she said. "Nothing more."
His lips pressed into a tight smile, and he noted, "I've never been just friends with you before."
Very true. They'd gone straight from casual acquaintances at school to fuck buddies in a matter of minutes. "First time for everything," she said, feeling like it was definitely possible to still be close to Bellamy without being . . . intimate. It wouldn't be easy, but it could be done.
Even though this clearly wasn't the conversation he'd hoped to have this morning, he sighed and said, "Okay."
"Okay," she repeated, hoping things wouldn't be too awkward between them. "Are you mad?"
"No," he answered without hesitation. "It sucks, but . . . I don't have to like it; but I do respect it."
Oh, that was good to hear. He didn't hate her, wasn't going to resent her for deciding that this was how it had to be. Not that she'd expected him to. No, he wouldn't resent her for this.
"But as a friend," he said, "I just wanna let you know you were amazing last night."
She smiled, feeling a different sensation than nausea in her stomach now. Butterflies.
"And that's all I'll say about that," he finished, returning his attention to the eggs he'd scrambled up. He picked up the spatula, moved them around the frying pan a bit more, and then headed over to the kitchen table to scoop some onto each plate. She decided she'd try to eat a couple bites of everything he'd made, because she really did appreciate it.
...
Bellamy felt like crap when he got home later that morning. He'd pulled some muscle in his back carrying Clarke upstairs last night, and this morning . . . well, this morning just hadn't gone the way he'd hoped it would.
"O?" he called as he walked in the door. Her car was in the driveway, so he figured she was home.
"In here!" she called from the laundry room.
He took off his shoes and headed in that direction, amused to find his sister standing before the washing machine, forcefully trying to shove her clothes into it. "Holy shit," he swore, "that's a lot of laundry."
"Mom says I can do it here, but I have to do it myself."
"Oh, the horror."
"Shut up," Octavia snapped, "she does your laundry." With one more shove, she managed to smoosh all her clothes in the washer down far enough, so she quickly dumped in some soap, closed the lid, and turned it on to the hour mark. "Where the hell were you last night?" she then asked, whirling around. "Out getting drunk or getting laid?"
He crossed his arms over his chest and replied, "That's none of your business."
"Getting laid then," she deduced. "My money's on Clarke."
Dammit, she just had that knowing look in her eyes, the kind that made it pointless to even try to deny it.
"You guys should just get back together and stop pretending it's not inevitable," she suggested. "Because it is."
"No, it's not," he muttered. The first night they'd hung out together, it'd kind of felt that way, but he really did want to respect whatever decisions she was making right now. He didn't know anything about her relationship with this Finn guy, how serious it had been or what was going to become of it now. That guy was the father of her child, and he felt like he had to give her space to figure out what that meant for her future.
"Whatever you say, Bell," Octavia said skeptically. She ambled towards him and said, "Alright, if we're done talking about you for, like, a second . . . don't freak out, okay, but I have a date tonight."
He stiffened. "With who?"
"Just this guy I met working out the other day. You don't know him."
A guy she met working out the other day? How well did she even know him then? "He's in college?" he asked.
"Yeah. Just a little bit older than me."
So like nineteen or twenty then, he assumed. That wasn't so bad.
"He's so hot, and he was so nice," she raved. "We're going out for dinner and a movie. Nothing scandalous, so don't make a big deal out of it. Alright?"
Oh, he wanted to make a big deal out of it. He wanted to know the guy's name, age, and address so he could do a legitimate background check on him. He wanted to insist that she let him meet the guy first so he could give her his opinion. But he didn't want to be overbearing to the point where she resented him being back in Arkadia, so he reluctantly agreed, "Alright," and hoped she'd be smart with whoever he was. To his knowledge, his sister was still a virgin, but she wasn't gonna stay that way forever. "When do I get to meet him?" he wanted to know.
"Whenever I feel like it," she declared, sliding past him as she walked off in the direction of her room.
Dammit, he thought. Knowing Octavia, she'd never feel like it. She'd had one serious boyfriend in high school named Ilian, and neither he nor his mom had even known about that kid until she'd been five months into dating him. At least, he supposed, she was being upfront about this new guy.
It was kind of frustrating not being able to keep a closer eye on her, but he knew he had to start treating her more like an adult or else risk pissing her off and alienating her from him. She was making decisions on her own, and just like the decisions Clarke was making . . . he had to respect them.
...
After waking up feeling nauseous for two mornings in a row, Clarke was majorly relieved to wake up the morning after that feeling perfectly fine. She'd slept well, she actually felt hungry, and when Harper texted her and Raven and asked them to hang out, she was more than up for it. They ended up meeting Harper at the on-campus rec center, where she spent a lot of her time in the dance studio, choreographing and practicing. Harper was a beautiful dancer and one of the few dance majors at Arkadia State College. Clarke loved watching her perform, because she could do all the fancy ballet stuff and breathtaking contemporary, and she had some flashy hip hop skills, too.
Clarke and Raven sat on the floor watching as Harper showed them a lyrical routine she'd been working on to John Legend's "All of Me," and when it was over, Raven clapped her hands excitedly and exclaimed, "Yay! That was so pretty!"
"Yeah, that was really good, Harper," Clarke said, wishing she had the ability to dance like that. Pom dancing was pretty much the only thing she could do, and even that . . . it'd been a while. Raven could probably still put on a cheerleading uniform and light it up at a pep rally, but for Clarke, it'd been five years.
"Thanks, you guys," Harper said, somehow sounding and looking as though she weren't even winded. "Monty inspired me to choreograph that."
"It did seem very romantic," Raven commented.
"Yeah, very," Clarke agreed. Harper and Monty were such a cute couple. They'd met last year when Harper had accidentally rear-ended his car in the commuter parking lot. Somehow, that had resulted in a date, and they'd been inseparable ever since.
"Wanna see the kind of dance I would dedicate to Murphy?" Raven said, shooting to her feet. She and Harper switched places, and Raven said, "Play a slutty song."
Harper quickly found one on her playlist, something by Rhianna, most likely, and Raven started doing these overtly-sexual moves, like she was mimicking a stripper or something. Lots of grabbing her own breasts and rubbing her inner thigh. It was so exaggerated that it looked more hilarious than it did slutty.
"Do you actually give him lap-dances and stuff?" Harper said through laughs.
Raven grinned mischievously. "When he deserves them." Then she bent over, hands on her knees, and twerked her butt a few times.
"How about you, Clarke?" Harper asked.
"No, I don't give Murphy lap-dances," she joked.
Harper rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean. How would you dance for Bellamy?"
Raven stopped moving and snorted. "Horizontal mambo comes to mind."
"He hasn't seen me dance since I was a sophomore in high school," Clarke reminded them. She hadn't danced for Bellamy since he came back, and she wasn't going to now because . . . because now they were just friends. She hadn't told either of these girls that she'd slept with him again the other night, and she probably wasn't going to. They'd just keep trying to convince her to get back together with him.
"Oh, I can show you how you'd dance for him," Raven said. "Harper, come here."
Harper popped back up to her feet and pranced out onto the middle of the dance floor with Raven.
"See, it'd be all sultry, you know?" Raven said, grabbing her friend's hips. "All seductive." She rolled her whole body up into Harper's, once again exaggerating the moves. Then she whirled around and did this big, dramatic hair flip and moaned.
"Ooh, am I Bellamy in this scenario?" Harper said, moving in close behind Raven. They grinded against each other, just like they did at parties, and if they hadn't been her closet friends, Clarke may have actually been turned on by the sight.
"Yeah, dance with me baby," Raven said, purposefully lowering her voice to make it sound huskier, mimicking Bellamy.
"You guys . . ." Clarke couldn't help but laugh a little. "Whatever. We are not like that."
"It's a sexy dance," Raven declared, moving her hips from side to side. "'cause you and Bellamy have sexy times."
We sure do, Clarke thought. Or . . . did. We sure did.
"This is kind of getting hot right now," Harper said, holding onto Raven's hips.
"I know, right?" Raven agreed, laughing.
Clarke smiled and rolled her eyes at their playfulness. There were worse things, she supposed, than being teased about be one half of a hot relationship. It wasn't like she and Bellamy had ever tried to be so sexual. It'd just always felt so natural.
...
Even though the biology test wasn't until the end of the week, Clarke still sat up in bed that night, re-reading the chapter. Why not, right? Wasn't like she had anything better to do.
In the middle of a particularly detailed and kind of gross section of the chapter about the reproductive system, Clarke heard something hit her window. Sounded like a small rock or something, so she didn't pay much attention to it. However, a few seconds after she'd resumed reading, she heard it again. She had her curtains closed, so she couldn't see what was hitting her window, but she kept hearing it every few seconds.
Setting aside her textbook, she got out of bed walked over to her bay window, slowly pulling the curtains back. It was dark outside, but there was an automatic light on their garage that was enough to illuminate Bellamy standing out in the driveway. He had a couple rocks in his hand but stopped throwing them when he saw her looking out.
Bellamy? she thought, surprised to see him there. What did he want? The same thing all guys his age wanted?
Even though part of her wanted to just close her curtains back up again and ignore him, act like his presence there had no effect on her whatsoever, she ended up venturing downstairs to let him in. "I'm really glad that was the right window," he said as they crept up the stairs.
"Shh," she whispered. "My parents are asleep." If one of them just so happened to walk out of their bedroom right now and see her sneaking a boy up to hers, she'd have some major explaining to do.
They quickly scurried along the upstairs balcony to her room, and after Clarke had shut the door and stuffed a few shirts beneath it to try to muffle any conversation, she turned to him and asked, "What're you doing here?"
"I wanted to see you," he said, looking down at the textbook on her bed. That made her feel like such a dork that she'd been studying before he showed up, so she quickly closed it and set it on her desk.
"You saw me in school today," she pointed out, "didn't say anything there." In fact, he hadn't said anything for the past couple of days.
"You were avoiding me," he said.
Hell yes, she'd been avoiding him. Ever since she'd overheard him talking to Miller, she just worried that . . . that he'd be annoyed if she tried to flirt with him or even talk to him. "I was just trying to give you space," she said. "I mean, I don't wanna be clingy. Like Bree." The homecoming queen had of course been all over Bellamy, practically sitting on his lap at their lunch table and always scampering along with him in the hall during passing periods. "What's going on with you two anyway?" she asked him. "Is she your girlfriend?"
"No."
"No?" Clarke wasn't sure whether to believe that or not. "I only ask because I know I'm not your girlfriend, either. You made that perfectly clear."
Immediately, he looked like he felt bad about that. "Clarke-"
"Look, it's okay," she cut him off. "When we first started this thing, it was—it was just sex. And it's okay if that's all it ever was. I wasn't expecting more." Sure, it would have been nice to have a boyfriend, especially as one as good-looking and fun as Bellamy. But if that wasn't in the cards for her, then so be it. "I wanted to lose my virginity, and I did," she said. "I lost it to you." She sighed deeply. For the rest of her life, there would be no reversing that fact. It wasn't like she regretted it or anything, but . . . maybe she should have waited. What if someone else came along in a couple months who did want to date her? Then she'd really be kicking herself for giving it up so soon.
Bellamy's eyes dropped from hers, and he almost looked . . . ashamed. Clarke wasn't sure she'd ever seen that expression on his face before. Maybe he regretted agreeing to this whole thing in the first place.
"I just . . . I wish you'd told me sooner," she said, not aiming to make him feel bad, but rather to just let him know how she was feeling and why she'd been avoiding him. "I wish we hadn't done it again. Just one and done. That would've been better." She really couldn't deny that she'd started to have some feelings for Bellamy these past couple weeks, feelings that extended beyond the physical. When emotions got involved, everything got harder. "But it's fine," she insisted, determined to not lose sleep over it. "I can get over it."
He shook his head solemnly and said, "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings."
"Well, you did."
"I'm sorry," he apologized again. He sighed, shifting his weight from side to side, and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "I'm not really good at this," he admitted.
"Good at what?" she asked.
"This. The talking thing."
"Really?" She didn't believe that for a second. "Because when I'm on the sideline, I hear you in the huddle with all your teammates, Bellamy. You give these rousing speeches. Seems like you talk just fine."
"No, that's different," he said. "I can find the words to pump them up and get their heads in the game. That's easy. But talkin' about feelings and shit . . ." He made a face. "I suck at that."
"Feelings?" she echoed. The word struck a chord. "You feel feelings?" She wasn't trying to make him sound like a sociopath or anything, so she quietly added, "For me?"
A faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, and he took a few steps towards her. "I like you," he said.
"You like a lot of girls," she reminded him.
"Yeah, but you're different."
She swore she stopped breathing for a moment, because . . . was she really hearing this?
"I don't know what it is, but . . . I'm having a lot of fun with you," he continued. "More fun than I've had in a long time."
So was she, but . . . could she believe him? "I must be getting good at sex then," she concluded.
"You are. But it's not just that." His eyes stared into hers hard, and instead of looking all flirtatious like he normally did, he actually looked serious. "I like you, Clarke, and not just your body," he told her. "I like your smile. I think it's sweet."
How could she help but smile when he said that?
"I like hearing you cheer for me at the games. I even liked taking care of you the other night when you were drunk," he went on. "I like kissing you."
Well, that worked out well then, didn't it? Because she liked all those things, too. "Yeah, but you've probably been kissing other girls," she said, trying to stay logical and not just turn into a puddle of goo now that he was saying this.
"No, I haven't, not since homecoming," he revealed. "And even then . . . I kinda wished I was kissing you."
Try as she might not to read too far into that . . . that had to mean something, right? If he hadn't hooked up with anyone else since hooking up with her, maybe he was struggling to get her off his mind just as she was struggling to get him off hers? "What're you saying?" she asked him.
His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and he took a moment to gather his thoughts before he actually said them out loud. "Look, I don't—I don't usually date," he said. "And there's a reason for it, you know? I gotta stay focused on football. That's my whole ticket to any kind of future."
It really was, wasn't it? Bellamy didn't have stellar grades, nor did he and his family have money to pay for college. She nodded, respecting the fact that his sport was so important to him. It had to be.
"I'm not gonna stay here forever," he told her. "I'm goin' to college, gettin' out of this town. And I don't know where I'm gonna end up. But it's not gonna be here."
She wasn't really sure where she was going to end up, either, but she was still pretty young. She had a little more time than he did to figure it out. "So you don't commit to anyone because it's not gonna last?" she summarized.
"Yeah," he confirmed. "And I didn't think you'd wanna get involved in something like that."
"Bellamy . . . I'm sixteen," she reminded him. "I'm a sophomore in high school. I'm not exactly looking to settle down for the rest of my life."
"You're not?"
"No. I wanna go to college and live my life, too," she said. "Contrary to what you might think, not every girl's main ambition is to get married and pop out a couple kids."
He laughed a little. He had a nice smile.
"I like you, too, a lot," she told him, "but if we were gonna keep doing this, I'd wanna do it exclusively." She wasn't the type of girl who was willing to share a guy with other people. That was pretty gross, and she had more respect for herself than that. "And if that's not something you wanna do, then that's fine. We can just cut our losses, and I'll be okay with it."
"Well, what if it is something I wanna do?" he said, moving closer to her still. "Exclusively."
Exclu- Her mind choked on the word. He wanted to just sleep with her? And only her? Even though she still lacked experience and was nowhere near as skilled as he was? "Are you serious?" she said, shocked.
"Yeah." He tucked her hair behind her ear for her, grazing his palm against her cheek as he did so. "I'm not saying we have to slap a label on it or define it for anyone else. We can just keep having fun. For however long it lasts."
The prospect of having more fun with Bellamy was . . . thrilling. She couldn't deny it. And she wasn't expecting some huge, epic love story, because she totally understood why someone as athletic and talented as him had to leave this town someday. If Bellamy got into a good college, maybe he could even make it to the NFL. Anything was possible, and she wasn't going to be the type of girl to hold him back.
"I don't know what to say," she confessed, a bit caught off guard. Not only had she not expected him to show up at her house tonight, but she hadn't expected . . . this. She'd just assumed that their little tryst would become a short chapter in his anthology of sexual partners, and it'd forever be the first chapter of her much smaller book.
"I can't promise you tomorrow," he reiterated. "But I can give you now. If you're still interested."
She swore she could feel her heart fluttering in her chest. She was always so hyper-aware of her body around him. But what if he had given this same speech to Bree once? What if she couldn't trust him?
To his credit, Bellamy didn't pressure her to make up her mind right then and there. He told her to think about it and left the room, and she sat there in her bay window, peeking out the curtain to watch him walk down the driveway to his truck, parked on the street. He wasn't exactly walking fast, so maybe he didn't really wanna go. And maybe that thud-thud-thud of her heart was letting her know she wasn't ready to let him leave.
Springing to her feet, she shot out of her bedroom and raced towards the stairs. She ran down them almost dangerously and dashed through the living room and out the front door. She heard him shut the door to his truck, so she ran towards it faster, needing to stop him before he drove off.
He had the key in the ignition but hadn't yet turned the truck on when she opened the passenger's side door. "Clarke?" was all he had time to say before she climbed inside and scrambled over the seat and over the gearshift, onto his lap.
She kissed him more fervently than she'd ever kissed anyone before, and he kissed her back with an equal intensity. Her hands were practically desperate to feel him as she grabbed at his arms, his shoulders, and balled his t-shirt into her fists. His hands, too, roamed over her, sliding first up the back of her shirt, then down the elastic waistband of her shorts. These damn clothes were in the way, but there was no space in there to take them off.
"I don't know what I'm doing. I don't know what I'm doing," she whispered frenetically against his mouth as she slipped her hands down in between them to unfasten his jeans.
"You're doing fine," he told her.
She managed to get his pants down far enough that his cock sprang free, already hard and waiting for attention. She gave it a few strokes, then groaned frustratedly when she realized they didn't have any protection.
Bellamy must have been reading her mind or something, because he reached over into his glove compartment and pulled out a condom. In seconds, he'd torn open the package and was sliding it on, and Clarke lifted her hips up a bit so she could push her shorts farther down. It wasn't going to work to keep them on, so she tried to stand as much as she could to step out of them. The truck was cramped, and she was clumsy, but she finally did get them off, and her panties were easy to push aside.
Settling back onto his lap again, she sank down atop him, barely giving herself any time to adjust to the feel of him before she instinctively started bouncing up and down, trying her best to ride him. It was still a little tight, and they probably could have used some lube, but the more she moved, the better it felt. She felt herself getting wetter and wetter down there while they were going at it, and the riding became easier. When he cupped her ass and started to help guide her hips up and down, that helped, too. She kept bouncing, enjoying the newness of the position, of feeling like she could control the pace this time.
"Fuck," he grunted, watching her intently. She had to close her eyes, because the heat of his gaze made her feel like she was turning into Jello.
The knowledge that they were sitting out on the street in the driver's seat of his truck remained in the back of her mind while their bodies slid together. The additional fear that, at any point, one or both of her parents could look outside and see this lingered there, too. But she didn't stop, didn't slow down, not until she felt his body tense up and he squeezed his eyes shut and groaned as he came. It didn't matter that she hadn't had an orgasm this time. It'd just been a quick, fast and furious type of fuck, and she was more than happy to put in the work and be the one to get him there, this time.
His breath was coming in ragged pants when she lifted her hips and let him slide out of her. She felt like her pussy was dripping, and more than anything, she would have loved to just lie down and have him eat her out right now. But that kind of thing was more well-suited for a bed, not for a truck. Besides, she really didn't want to push their luck and run the risk of getting caught here. All it would take was for one car to drive by and notice these steamed up windows to know exactly what had been going on.
Climbing over into the passenger's seat, she retrieved her shorts and quickly pulled them back on. "I'm still interested," she told him, leaning across the seats to give him a kiss. For once, he seemed almost too stunned to kiss her back.
She hopped out of the car, shut the door, and ran back towards her house, flashing him an excited smile over her shoulder as she went.
...
As she was leaving the rec center with her friends, Clarke walked by the gym, where they had all those weights and ellipticals and treadmills she'd never found appealing, and someone familiar caught her eye. There, with her hair up in a long, dark ponytail and wearing a sports bra that really showed off her abs, was none other than Bellamy's sister. Clarke ran into Octavia around town from time to time, but seeing her on campus was a bit head-spinning. That was no longer the same annoying seventh grader she used to know; that was a full-blown adult who wanted everyone to know that she was an adult now.
While Raven and Harper continued walking, Clarke hung back, being nosy because she couldn't help but notice that Octavia was talking to a guy. A big, bulky guy with tattoos on his chocolate skin and a shaved head. He looked like a personal trainer or something. There was no way he was a freshman like her.
Things got even more interesting when Octavia grabbed that guy by his t-shirt, pulled him closer to her, and rose up on her tiptoes to kiss him. He slid his hands around her sides and smoothed them up and down her back, kissing her deeply, like she was his girlfriend or something.
"Clarke!" Raven called from down the hall. "You coming?"
She scurried to catch up with her friends, but she walked behind both of them through the parking lot, took out her phone, and sent Bellamy a quick text that read, Hey. Just so you know, Octavia's in the gym making out with a way older guy. She wasn't trying to rat the girl out or anything, but . . . she knew how protective Bellamy was, and she didn't very well feel like she could not tell him.
Way older? he texted back a few seconds later. Then came another message: Thanks for letting me know.
Keeping her eyes on her screen, she followed along behind Raven and Harper while they babbled about their boyfriends. That's what friends are for, right? she typed out and sent to him. It probably wasn't any of her business who Octavia was dating or hooking up with now, and maybe it wasn't even any of his. But she felt better with him knowing. Octavia was just a young girl, after all, and sometimes young people didn't make the best decisions. Hell, she was proof of that.
