Chapter 54

Beard maintenance wasn't something to be taken lightly. Bellamy was well aware that he let his go from time to time, but when the day of Clarke's maternity photoshoot rolled around, he knew he had to trim it up a bit, just so he didn't look like a lumberjack in every picture he was in. He utilized the downstairs bathroom, leaning as close to the mirror as he could to get the best look possible, and put his faith in his trusty trimmer, hoping and praying he didn't hack off too much.

Murphy and Raven had come over right at the time they said they would, early in the morning, but neither he nor Clarke was ready. Raven headed upstairs to help Clarke, and Murphy stayed downstairs with Bellamy, lounging on the couch while Bellamy went through his process. And there was a process, one that he'd had to develop the hard way back when he'd first started growing his facial hair out. Luckily, he was pretty good at it by now. But he still had to use scissors to attack some of the stragglers.

"So when are you gonna post that trailer?" he asked Murphy as he took what appeared to be the final snip.

"Probably in the next few days," Murphy replied.

"You think people will like it?"

Murphy snorted. "They'd better. It's the best editing I've ever done."

"The trailer?" he asked. "Or the film?"

"Both," Murphy said. "You're gonna watch, right?"

"Yeah, maybe. That'll probably be weird, though." He took a step back and admired the masterpiece on his face. Yeah, he looked good.

"It is kinda weird, at first," Murphy admitted. "It's like hearing your voice on an answering machine. You're like, 'Shit, is that really how I sound?' But you get used to it."

Bellamy quickly cleaned up the bathroom, halfway thinking about Murphy's documentary, halfway thinking about his beard, and when he emerged, Murphy exasperatedly said, "Finally. Took you long enough."

"It looks more well-groomed, though, right?" he said, stroking his chin.

"Yeah, but who cares?" Murphy stood up, tilted his head back, and asked, "How do I look?"

Bellamy made a face. "You're asking me?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"Because."

Bellamy squinted at him in confusion and asked, "Did you forget you're gonna be behind the camera today?"

"I just want your opinion on my beard," Murphy said. "What do you think?"

Murphy's facial hair was definitely still in a transition period, growing out to what would eventually be its full glory, and Bellamy didn't want to discourage him from growing it out even further, so he remarked, "It's gettin' there."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Miller and I might let you into the beard club."

Murphy's eyes widened in shock and delight. "There's a beard club?"

"Yep. Meetings second Tuesday of every month."

Murphy still believed him. "Seriously?"

"No."

"Oh." His shoulders slumped as he plopped back down on the couch again. "Really got my hopes up for a minute there."

Bellamy laughed at his friend's utter gullibility and sat down next to him. He was ready to go now. Murphy was ready to go. Now if only the girls could hurry it up.

Raven came downstairs a few seconds later and asked, "What're you two wasting your time talking about now?"

"My facial hair," Murphy answered proudly.

"Oh, god," Raven groaned dramatically. She looked at Bellamy sternly and said, "I wish you would tell him to shave."

"What do you mean? He looks rugged," Bellamy said, feeling the need to defend his friend's style choice. "Very manly."

"Thank you, Bellamy," Murphy said.

"He looks like a forest creature," Raven argued.

"Hey!" Murphy yelped. "I must not look too bad. You stay with me." He reached up and grabbed Raven's wrists, pulling her down onto his lap.

"That's because . . . you make me laugh," she said. "Sometimes."

"Only sometimes?" He started to tickle her sides, and that got her giggling, squirming as she tried to get away from him.

From upstairs, Clarke called out, "Raven! I need you to come zip me into my dress!" and that was the end of Murphy's tickling. He let her get up, and she started up the stairs.

"How much longer is this gonna take?" Bellamy asked her.

"Who knows?" she said. "You can't rush art."

Bellamy smiled, because as much as he would have liked to have gotten started with the photo shoot, he wanted Clarke to take all the time she needed to get ready. This was one of those days that was all about her.

...

Self-esteem wasn't on Clarke's side as she looked at her reflection in her full length mirror. As far as maternity dresses went, the white gown Raven had put her in was at least somewhat flattering. It was long-sleeved, so it covered up some of the boob and underarm flab she felt like she had going on, and it was form-fitting enough to show off her belly but not so tight that she felt like she couldn't breathe or move in it. It wasn't super low-cut, so her chest wasn't spilling out of it, but still . . . like many pregnant women, she looked in the mirror these days and had a lot of doubts about her appearance. Like, what if she just looked like a big snowman in all the photos? Or a marshmallow?

"Are you sure about this dress?" she asked Raven when she returned to the bedroom. "It looks a little wedding-ish."

Raven smirked. "Nothing wrong with that."

Turning to the side, Clarke surveyed her profile, since many shots would definitely be taken from that vantage point. "I'm not sure I can pull this off right now," she fretted. "Wouldn't a dark color be slimming?"

"Yeah, but dark's depressing," Raven said, coming to stand beside her. "This is . . . peaceful and angelic. And you look amazing."

Clarke blushed at the compliment, deciding it was best to just take her best friend's word for it. "If you say so," she said, smoothing her hands over her stomach. In a few weeks, that'd be gone. Or . . . more like shrinking. She wouldn't just have a belly; she'd have a baby. And it wasn't just her and Bellamy that would dote on her. Her mom, Bellamy's mom, and all their friends . . . they'd dote, too.

"Hey, Raven?" she said, turning to face her friend. "Bellamy and I talked about it, and . . . we really want you to be Avery's godmother. If that's something you're interested in."

Raven's eyes immediately filled with tears. "Really?"

"Yeah." She and Octavia had really been the only options they'd entertained. "Do you want to?"

"Like you even need to ask!" Raven exclaimed, hugging her. "Oh my god, I'd be honored. Thank you, Clarke."

"No, thank you." Although she'd never had any doubts that Raven would accept this title, it was still nice to see her so excited about it. "Bellamy's gonna ask Murphy about being the godfather at some point today."

"Oh, he's gonna love that," Raven predicted.

"Yeah?"

"Oh, yeah. Just the other night, he was talking about how he's so glad he and Bellamy became friends this year, and how he's never really had a best friend before. He's gonna feel honored, too. Of course, he'll never say that, 'cause he's Murphy, and you know he's gotta sound snarky about everything."

"Of course." Clarke laughed a little. "Well, for what it's worth, I think Bellamy's really enjoying that bromance, too. Maybe you and Murphy should have a baby, and then Avery can have a best friend to play with."

"No way," Raven said adamantly. "Not yet."

"What, you mean I haven't sold you on the joys of pregnancy?" Clarke teased. "I mean, I've gotten to pay for a whole new wardrobe since I can't fit into my clothes or my shoes anymore. And I've traded cramps and bleeding for unimaginable weight gain. Oh, and I don't have to waste time peeing and sneezing at different times these days, because now I can just pee when I sneeze."

Raven cringed. "Does that really happen?"

"Yeah, it's called peezing. It's a real time-saver." Clarke joked, but peezing was embarrassing as fuck, and she really hoped it stopped once she got the baby out. "No, for real . . . as ready as I am to not be pregnant anymore, it's also been . . . kind of incredible." She'd never imagined that her body would go through so many changes, or that it even could.

"Well, I'll experience it for myself," Raven said. "In five to ten years."

Clarke smiled at her, wondering if she would already go through a second pregnancy in that same amount of time. She didn't exactly have a timeline in mind, but . . . Bellamy deserved to biologically father a child of his own someday. He really deserved that.

It took about another hour and a half upstairs for Raven to do her makeup and her hair, but once that was done and she'd found a suitably comfy pair of sandals to wear, she was ready. She carefully made her way downstairs while Murphy crooned that "Kiss Me" song from the She's All That movie, and even though she snapped at him to shut up, Bellamy took the cue and did kiss her. He touched her hair, which Raven had managed to make look beachy and wavy despite its short length and cupped her cheek and told her she looked beautiful.

"Alright, enough of the mushy stuff," Murphy said, ushering them out the back door. "Let's get goin'. We're burnin' daylight."

"Day's just started," Bellamy pointed out as they stepped out onto the back porch.

"Yeah, but this is the best light," Murphy said. "Head on out there a ways."

Bellamy took Clarke's hand and led the way out onto the beach. Once again, he complimented her appearance when he told her, "You look so pretty."

"Thanks." When she'd looked at the final product of all of Raven's efforts in the mirror, she had to admit that she was . . . pleased. The whole look had really come together well.

"I like that you went with white for the dress," he remarked.

"Raven's idea," she said. "I like that you trimmed your beard."

Grinning, he said, "Gotta look good for my girl."

Had he ever looked bad? Not that she could recall.

They made their way far out onto the beach, and she kicked her sandals off and let her toes curl into the sand. Murphy directed them into a pose—Bellamy behind her, both of them with their hands on her stomach—and started clicking away with his camera. Raven stood behind him making faces, which caused Clarke to laugh a lot.

The ocean waves curled right up to their feet, as if to remind them of all the time they could have spent out there if things had just gone a little bit differently a few summers ago.

...

The last day of school was a joke. So much of a joke that Clarke wasn't even sure why any of them had bothered showing up. All final exams were done and in the gradebook. She'd maintained her 4.0, despite a slight dip in her grades due to . . . distractions. She'd aced all her finals and had nothing left to do as a sophomore. Other than just sit there in her final class of the day and wait for the clock to tick down to 3:30. Waiting for the end of the school year was painstaking no matter what, but especially when the last class she had to endure was a geography class that was pointless even under normal circumstances. She'd only taken it to fulfill a social studies requirement.

Even the teacher had checked out. With thirty minutes left to go, he started up a not so rousing game of hangman on the whiteboard. When someone guessed "E?" he smirked and said, "Nope. You kids are so predictable. You always go for the E." He drew a circle for the head of the hangman victim and said, "Next?"

Only half the class was actually participating, and Clarke didn't care to be part of that half. She had her sketchbook out and was doodling. Beside her, Jasper was doing the same, but his doodles weren't quite as detailed. "Is there really any point in being here?" she wondered out loud to him.

"No," he said. "But I'm gonna stay. I heard they play 'School's Out' by Alice Cooper over the sound system at the end of the day."

"They don't do that," she informed him.

"You sure?"

"Well, they didn't do that last year." It wasn't a bad idea, though. Why not give the kids a suitable soundtrack for the day that signaled the start of their freedom? "So what're you gonna do this summer?" she asked Jasper, wondering if she'd see much of him.

"Probably a lot of video games, to be honest," he replied without hesitation. "What about you?"

She didn't have to think too long and hard about it, either. "Probably a lot of Bellamy."

Jasper smirked and nodded. "When's he leave?"

"End of July." She really didn't want to think about it. And judging by the sad expression that swept over Jasper's face, he didn't want to, either.

He understands, Clarke thought. They were both happy for him, proud of him for getting a college scholarship, but they were both going to miss him so much. Jasper was losing a friend. She was losing . . . something more.

As hangman continued on, Clarke continued to doodle. It wasn't anything spectacular, just a nonsensical design to keep her occupied for the rest of the class period, so her attention immediately diverted when she saw that she had a new text from Bellamy. I'm here, it read.

She knew what that meant. He was already outside waiting for her. He'd done that almost every day since he'd graduated, come to her house and picked her up to drive her to school, come to school to pick her up and hang out for a while. Before her stupid curfew. Hopefully her mom would let her stay out a little later this summer.

Fifteen more minutes, she texted back. The doodling was doing its job. She was staying occupied while time wound down, fighting off the urge to just leap to her feet and sprint out the door.

Everyone was on the edge of their seats within the final minute. Their teacher had started a new round with a super easy word—it had to be Australia, because that was the last continent they'd studied—and seemed frustrated when someone guessed E again. "Really, people?" he huffed. "You're not gonna guess this?" The bell mercifully rang, and everyone shot up from their seats and took off, Clarke among them. "Have a great summer," their teacher called.

Oh, I will, Clarke thought, determined to make this the best summer of her life. Even if it only could last until the end of July.

Having cleaned out her locker yesterday, Clarke had no reason to even stop on her way out the door. She didn't say goodbye to anyone, didn't even apologize if she bumped into anyone. She felt like she just had to get out to the parking lot, like she had to make every second count.

Bellamy was waiting just as he'd promised, leaning against his truck, hair blowing in the breeze. He looked like a modeling campaign, honestly, and her heart soared at the mere sight of him. She ran towards him, flung herself into his arms, and kissed him excitedly. No more school. No more seven and a half hours out of the day where they were separated. He'd been free for a couple weeks, and now so was she.

"Let's go," he said, opening up the driver's side door. She tossed her nearly empty backpack into the bed of the pickup and scurried around to the other side to get in. They weren't the first vehicle out of the parking lot, but they were pretty close.

Clarke wasn't sure where they were going to go or what they were going to do, and that was part of the beauty of it. There was no plan. There was just the two of them, and time. Time to do what they wanted. Time to be together.

They ended up going for a drive, out on one of the older highways that led out of town. There were barely any other cars, so it sort of felt like they were driving off into their own little world. Clarke rolled her window down all the way, leaned out with her arms outstretched, and exclaimed, "Woo!" The sun beamed down on her, and she just smiled as the wind messed up her hair. Bellamy kept his eyes on the road and one hand on the wheel, but whenever he looked over at her, he laughed.

They drove long enough and far enough to be out of Arkadia, but Clarke wasn't exactly sure where they ended up. And she didn't really care. When Bellamy pulled off the road and shut the truck off, he leaned over to kiss her, and that was the end of all coherent thought. They ended up moving to the bed of his truck and making out there for a while, until Bellamy piled up some blankets and a jacket to make her more comfortable. She laid down and let him touch her, because it felt so good, and she didn't really care if, occasionally, another car drove past. Nobody could see anything besides Bellamy on top of her anyway.

They stayed out there for a long time, just the two of them. With it staying light out later these days, it really felt like time was working in their favor. Until Bellamy actually glanced at his phone and noticed that it was almost 9:00 already. Reluctantly, they drove back home, and though Clarke kept her window open, she didn't lean out this time. Instead, she took her seatbelt off and leaned towards Bellamy, resting her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes, wishing she could just stay with him all night.

The good thing about summer vacation was that the days were wide open. Her mom and dad had both suggested that she find a summer job, but she had no intention of doing that. Maybe next summer, but not this one. This summer, there was too much fun to be had. If it wasn't a joyride out to the middle of nowhere, it was something silly like . . . mini-golfing. She never would have pictured Bellamy having fun on a mini-golf course, but that was where he took her several days into her summer break. He got competitive, of course, more so with himself than with her since she couldn't get par to save her life. When he only golfed ten below par—only—he said they had to play again so he could do better. And he did. Luckily, a couple days later, they went bowling, and she had better luck at that. He still beat her, but it wasn't as much of a blowout as the mini-golf had been.

When June rolled around, Bellamy surprised her with tickets to a concert. Apparently he'd gotten them online for a ridiculously cheap price and wanted to take her. She didn't even know the band that was performing, but she knew she wanted to go with him anyway. It took a lot of convincing, but finally she managed to persuade her mom to relax the 10:00 curfew for just one night. She and Bellamy went to the concert, and even though it was outdoors, it was in a small space, so it was crowded. He kept hold of her hand the entire time, as if to keep track of her.

And there were some days, especially rainy, dreary days, that they were content with mellowing out, too. Most of the time, that happened at his house, because even though Octavia was around and sometimes had friends of her own over, his place was still a lot more mellow than hers was. They tried out some cooking, and most recipes ended up being disasters. One even ended up being a food fight. They watched movies and cuddled together on the couch or in his bed. They took naps together. And of course they found plenty of time to . . . not nap.

But on the days when the sun was shining its brightest, it just felt right to go back to the same stretch of beach they'd gone to back when they'd skipped school. It always seemed to be just the two of them out there, so their clothes rarely stayed on. They stripped down, swam around, and occasionally had sex right there in the ocean. And it felt so good. Bellamy would pick her up, and she'd wrap her legs and arms around him and hold onto him while the waves pushed against them. There was one time that the waves were so strong that Bellamy lost his footing completely and fell down, but that ended up working out fine, too. They just lay in the sand, first her on top of him, then him on top of her, hands all over each other, mouths all over each other, connected in every single way while the water crept up and around and underneath them.

It felt like paradise. It felt like nothing could go wrong.

The downside, of course, to spending so much time at the beach, was that Clarke felt herself getting sunburnt. After a particularly long day out there, she headed back up to Bellamy's truck with her towel serving as her only clothing. She'd get dressed in the car. "Do my shoulders look red to you?" she asked him.

"A little," he said as he inspected her shoulders.

"Then I need to wear more sunscreen."

"I'll lather you up good tomorrow," he said. "You wanna come back here or just use your pool?"

"Here," she decided. "I like the beach better." Plus, if they used her pool, there was always the chance that her mom would come home on a lunch break and see something inappropriate.

"I like it, too," he said, putting his arm around her.

She winced, slipping out from underneath it, just because her skin was sensitive at the moment. "Well, if we're gonna spend the whole summer here, I need a stronger SPF," she said, "because I'm getting burnt. Pale person problems. I know you can't relate."

"Nope." He went around to the driver's side of the truck and started throwing some things into the backseat. A couple empty bottles, the kite they'd attempted to fly, and his own sandy, damp towel.

"Blonde hair, blue eyes . . . it's a crispy combination," she said, checking her reflection in the window.

"I'll bet." His phone rang out suddenly from where he'd left it on the dashboard, so he reached in, grabbed it, and answered, "Hello?" Clarke was still looking at her reflection, trying to pick the sand out of her hair when she heard him say, "Hey, Coach."

Coach? She stiffened.

A few seconds later, Bellamy said, "Oh, really?" and she couldn't quite gather much from his tone. Not until he said, "Uh-huh." And that wasn't an excited uh-huh. And that look on his face . . . it wasn't the carefree look she'd grown so accustomed to seeing these past couple of weeks. He looked serious.

"When?" he said. And as if that word wasn't bad enough, then he said, "Already?"

Though she still didn't know exactly what was being said, Clarke didn't have a good feeling about it. Her stomach started to hurt, and it felt like a knot was forming in her throat.

Bellamy looked down at the ground and mumbled, "Yeah, I understand." Then, after a brief pause came a resigned, "Okay. Bye." He lowered his phone and didn't even look at her.

As much as she didn't even want to ask, Clarke forced the obvious question out of her mouth: "What was that about?"

His answer was pretty obvious, too. Because even though he didn't say anything, he didn't have to. That sadness in his eyes when he raised his head to look at her again . . . that said it all.

Summer was over.

...

Clarke hadn't even realized she'd been losing her balance until she felt Bellamy's hand on her back, holding her up. "You doin' alright?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said, blinking rapidly to try to clear her mind.

"Do you need to sit down?"

"No." She refocused on Murphy and his camera and took a few breaths to relax herself. It was hard to be on her feet for so long.

"You sure?"

"Yeah. I'm fine." She smiled as Murphy continued to snap shot after shot, and eventually, Bellamy's hands wound around her, ending up on top of her stomach once again.

...

After getting hundreds of photos at the beach, Murphy suggested they move to another location, just to have some variety, so they got in his car and headed to the park. Well, one of three parks in town. The nicest one with the best scenery for a backdrop. There, he took a lot of individual photos of Clarke, and Bellamy stood back with Raven and watched.

"Look at her," Raven said. "She looks perfect."

"Always does." He gazed at her, paying particular attention to her hands. She had a ring on her right hand today. But not her left. Not her left.

Raven leaned towards him, eyes still on Clarke, and asked, "Do you ever just stop and think to yourself, 'Wow, that's my girlfriend'?"

"Every day," he replied.

"That's sweet," she said. "I wonder if Murphy thinks that about me."

Bellamy cast a quick glance at Murphy, who'd been surprisingly professional all day. He kept the camera practically glued to his face as he moved forward to get more close-up shots of Clarke. "I'm sure he does," Bellamy said. "In his own Murphy way."

"Right," Raven said. "Hey, did you ask him about being the godfather yet?"

"No, I'm gonna ask him when we're done with all this," Bellamy said. "I heard you said yes, though."

"Of course," Raven exclaimed. "I'm so excited. I'm gonna spoil her rotten."

"Are you gonna try to get her into cheerleading?" he asked.

"Obviously. And mechanical engineering. We're in the modern age, you know. Girls don't just have to be girly girls or tomboys. They can be a mix."

"Damn right," he agreed. His little girl could be anything she wanted to be, and he'd support her. "What if Murphy tries to get her into YouTube, though?"

"You really think YouTube's gonna last that long?"

He shrugged. "Doesn't seem to be going anywhere."

"Hmm, we'll see," Raven said. "Although if you have your way, she'll be playing football."

He shook his head. "Nah, I bet she'll be an artist, or a singer. Like her mom."

"Probably," Raven agreed. "Can you imagine them singing together?"

He hadn't before, but he was now. And the image he conjured up made him smile.

"Alright, Bellamy, get in there," Murphy said as he walked back towards them. "We're gonna do some super cheesy shots."

"Super cheesy, huh?" He pushed his sleeves up to his elbows and went to Clarke's side.

"Yeah," Clarke said. "Like with you kissing my stomach and stuff."

"Oh, I can do that." He knelt down, put both hands on his stomach, and gave it a kiss. Murphy snapped a couple of pictures rapidly while he did so.

"So cute," he heard Raven say.

He stayed down there, his hands still on her belly, and looked at it in awe as he felt Avery inside. "She's movin' around a lot right now," he said.

"Yeah. She's posing for the photo shoot," Clarke said.

He laughed, looked up at her and smiled, and Murphy took photos of them in that moment, too. Bellamy gave her stomach another kiss, then groaned as he got to his feet. "Can we do some funny ones?" he asked.

Murphy shrugged. "Sure."

"What do you wanna do?" Clarke asked him.

"Here, I saw this online." He grabbed her hand and led her towards the trunk of a big oak tree positioning her behind it. "You stand here," he instructed. "Keep your head hidden, but your stomach out."

"Stomach's always out," she said, craning her head back.

He stood behind the tree with her, completely concealed from the camera, and said, "Alright, and I'm gonna peek around." He stretched his neck forward, peering around the trunk of the tree, and asked Murphy, "Does it look like I'm the pregnant one now?"

Murphy laughed and started snapping pictures. "Yeah. Don't move. Let me get a few more."

He made a goofy facial expression, aiming for half-confused, half-shocked. When Murphy told him he'd gotten the shot, he ran back to him and said, "Let me see it." Hopefully it looked like the online ones had, because they were funny as fuck. One look at the photo, and he started laughing. "Oh, Clarke, you gotta look at this."

It took Clarke a little longer to walk over there than it'd taken him, but when she saw the photo, her reaction was a similar one of laughter. "Oh my god," she said. "That's ridiculous."

"You're a much better-looking pregnant woman than I am," he told her.

"Well, I would hope so." She handed Murphy's camera back to him and said, "Ooh, okay, I need to sit down. Been on my feet too long. Do you think we're done?"

"Yeah, we got a lot," Murphy said. "You guys are gonna love 'em, I promise."

They made their way towards a rickety old picnic table and Bellamy said, "Thanks for doing this, man," as he sat down next to Clarke. Then he tacked on, "You're gonna be a good godfather," just to gauge Murphy's reaction.

"Yeah, no kidding," Murphy said. It took him a second to pick up on it, but when he did, he looked intrigued. "Wait, what?" He looked back and forth between the two of them, and then at Raven, who just nodded. "Sweet," he said.

"We're godparents, Murphy!" Raven exclaimed, squeezing his arm and leaning into him.

"Just so long as we're not real parents yet, it's fine by me," he said, giving her a kiss.

Mission accomplished, Bellamy thought, putting his arm around Clarke. He was glad both Raven and Murphy had agreed to it. But he had another mission, one that he needed to accomplish soon. Maybe as soon as tomorrow. And it involved one of Clarke's parents. The nicer one.

...

Bellamy made the drive to Baltimore the next day to see Jake. At first, he acted like he'd just been in the area, driving through, and he even showed him some pictures from the photo shoot yesterday. Eventually, they started talking about how the baby could come any day now, and that segued into a larger conversation about whether or not Bellamy felt ready. He did.

Bellamy hadn't informed Jake in advance that he'd be stopping by, but Jake seemed to have a daily routine now that he wasn't working as much anymore. In that huge house of his, not only did he have his own movie theater and indoor pool, but he also had a home gym. He asked Bellamy if it would be okay if he worked out while he was there, and Bellamy didn't mind. While Jake ran on the treadmill, he kept talking to him, trying to find his moment to launch into the real reason why he was there. He ended up telling him who they'd picked as godparents.

"Raven, huh?" Jake said, turning down the speed on the treadmill. "I always liked her. And what's her boyfriend's name?"

"Murphy," Bellamy replied. "He's a good guy." Miller had been the only other name on the table, but it just made sense to let Raven and Murphy have the titles together.

"Well, that's great, Bellamy," Jake said. "Sounds like you guys are getting all your ducks in a row."

"Yeah." He reached into his pocket, feeling the ring, and mumbled, "All but one."

Jake gave him a curious look, turned the treadmill off, and stepped down from it. "And which one's that?" he asked, using a towel to wipe the sweat off his forehead.

Here goes nothing, Bellamy thought. He'd found his moment. "The biggest one," he said. "It's actually the reason why I came to see you today. I need to talk to you about something."

Jake was a smart guy and must have sensed where this was all going, but he simply said, "Okay. Go right ahead."

Bellamy's heart began to pound out of anxiety. He was about to ask this guy—this rich, powerful, high-status guy—for his daughter's hand in marriage. Hopefully he didn't get shot down. "Well, I know it's pretty old-fashioned, but I really wanna do this the right way," he said, taking a deep breath to calm himself. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and nervously, he started in. "Jake, you know I love your daughter. More than I've ever loved anyone. She means the world to me."

Jake nodded slowly.

"I've never met anyone like her, and . . ." There was definitely a lump in the back of his throat, but he ignored it and blurted out, "I really wanna marry her."

Jake's expression didn't change. He didn't look surprised.

"I have the ring," he said, reaching into his pocket again. He pulled it out this time so Jake could have a look at it. "But I haven't asked her yet. I wanted to get your permission before I do."

Jake took the ring from him and held it up in between two of his fingers. "Marriage is a big step," he noted.

"I know. But I'm ready for it." He wasn't a kid anymore, and neither was Clarke. A lot of people tied the knot at their age, especially when they were going to be starting a family together.

"Is this something you and Clarke have talked about?" Jake asked, handing the ring back to him.

"Not really," he admitted, pocketing it again, "but it's obviously headed in that direction." He didn't question what Clarke's answer to his proposal would be. Even though it would come as a surprise, in a way, it wouldn't be surprising at all. "So is that something you'd approve of?" he asked her father. "Do I have your permission?"

Jake laughed lightly and said, "I don't think you need my permission, Bellamy."

True, he didn't. He was proposing to Clarke no matter what. "Your blessing, then?" he asked. Maybe that was a better way to phrase it.

Jake looked him right in the eye, and slowly he smiled and nodded. "Yes," he said, "you have that."

Bellamy felt a wave of relief wash over him. "Really?"

"You sound so shocked."

"Well . . ." He shrugged. "Considering how things started between me and Clarke in high school, I wasn't sure."

Jake looked away for a moment, then back at him. "That was a long time ago."

"Right." It was. And even though he'd had his ups and downs with the Griffin family back then, things were different now. Jake had been downright friendly to him these past couple of months. And Abby . . . she'd learned to tolerate him. "Alright, I'm gonna do it then," he decided, feeling bold that he had the approval he'd never really needed, and the blessing he'd definitely wanted. "I'm gonna ask Clarke to marry me."

"When?" Jake inquired.

The sooner the better, he figured. That baby wasn't going to be in the womb forever. She was going to come out in a couple of weeks, and when she did, he wanted Blake to be her last name. "Tonight," he answered, feeling a rush of excitement as he pictured himself getting down on one knee. Tonight, he was going to ask the love of his life to be with him forever.