Chapter 71
"Thanks for coming," Clarke told Harper as she unrolled her yoga mat onto the floor. "You're the fittest person I know, and I figured seeing your abs would give me motivation." She glanced quickly at Harper's enviable stomach, adding, "And they do." Even before her pregnancy, she would have loved to have abs like Harper's.
"I don't know about this," her friend said nervously. "Are you sure you're ready to start working out?"
"Yes. I cleared it with Dr. Jackson," she said, taking a seat on her mat. "He said I just have to take it easy, which I will." She pressed a few buttons on the iPad she had sitting out in front of her, and the video she'd found last night began to play.
"Fifteen-minute post-natal Pilates." Harper sat down with her as she read off the title. "Seriously, Clarke? Pilates is no joke. We do that in dance."
"Look, read the description." Clarke paused the video, scrolled down to the description box, and read it aloud. "'Perfect for post-partum moms who want to gently strengthen their core and tighten and tone their tummy.' That's what I wanna do."
"Why?" Harper asked. "You're already looking great."
"But I wanna look better." Clarke handed the whole iPad to her friend and instructed, "Press play for me."
Sighing reluctantly, Harper did just that, and as the woman on screen started to talk, she cautioned, "If you feel anything pull or snap, you need to just stop right away."
"I'll be fine," Clarke insisted. Her body was actually starting to feel like her body again. Just a little poofier than she was accustomed to, which wasn't doing great things for her post-baby self-image. She knew it was normal not to be able to lose all the weight right away, but she definitely had a few extra pounds she wanted to shed.
"So what's this really about?" Harper asked.
"Really?" Clarke mimicked the instructor, alternating twisting from one side to the next, amazed that she couldn't even reach her arm back behind herself as far as she could before. "Bellamy," she admitted. "Sex with Bellamy."
Harper eyes widened in alarm. "You're not starting that up again already, are you?"
"No," she said, "but when we do, I want it to be . . . good, you know?"
"Isn't it usually?"
"Well, yeah, but . . ." She got lost in thought for a moment, still twisting when she was supposed to be trying to lean back a bit and just hold herself there. That one still pulled too much, so she couldn't quite do it. "This'll be the first time we do it since I had Avery," she said, "and . . . look, I can't help it, okay? I feel self-conscious." She knew that Bellamy loved her no matter what and would think she was beautiful no matter what—realistically, she knew that. But she wanted to feel sexy when they finally hooked up again.
"But you guys had sex while you were pregnant," Harper pointed out. "And you were a lot bigger then."
"But that's different. I had a baby bump," Clarke said, regretfully touching what very much just felt like an extra tire around her midsection these days. "Now I just have leftover flab. And I wanna get rid of it."
"I'm sure you will," Harper said. "But it'll take time. And Bellamy won't care. He understands what your body's been through. He isn't gonna expect you to look exactly like you used to."
"I know." She carefully lay down on her side and started doing some little leg lifts that felt way more strenuous than she would have liked. "I'm probably making a bigger deal out of it than I need to. But it's not just for him. I wanna do this for me, too."
"Well, that's good," Harper said. She lay down, too, facing Clarke, and set the iPad down in between them. "I support that."
Although the volume on her device wasn't turned all the way up, the brief break in conversation was all it took for Clarke to hear something on the video from that instructor that made her whole heart sink. She stopped doing the leg lifts, and her bottom lip quivered uncontrollably.
"What?" Harper asked.
Clarke sat up, instantly close to tears, and choked out, "Did you hear what she just said?"
"No, I wasn't listening." Harper sat up beside her and asked, "What's wrong?"
Sniffing back tears, Clarke managed to respond, "She talked about squeezing everything . . . down there. Because it's just not the same." Her shoulders shook, and the tears sprang out. There was no controlling them. Her hormones were still so out of whack.
"Oh, Clarke . . . don't worry," Harper said, rubbing her back reassuringly. "I'm sure it's fine."
"No, it's not." Clarke shook her head, crying profusely at the thought of her vagina never going back to the way it was. Even if she did get her stomach back and somehow miraculously avoided stretch marks, there was one thing that was never going back to the way it was before. It was pretty much a scientific fact. "I do Kegels all the time, and I don't feel like it's doing any good," she wept. "When Bellamy and I do it again, it'll be like throwing a pickle down a really wide hallway!"
"No, it won't," Harper said. "Come here." She opened up her arms and pulled Clarke in for a hug.
The front door swung open while Clarke was still crying, and in came Bellamy with two sacks of groceries in his arms. "Hey, I'm back," he announced. His whole face fell when he saw her sitting there crying with Harper, and he fearfully asked, "What—what's wrong? What happened? Is she okay?"
"She's just feeling worked up," Harper said.
He set both bags down on the couch and rushed towards her. "About what?"
"Your pickle," Clarke responded, her voice muffled against Harper's shoulder.
"I didn't buy any pickles," he said.
"It's a metaphor pickle!" she cried loudly. And there she was with a really wide, stretched out hallway, because a whole damn baby had come out of it.
"Oh, you mean . . ." Bellamy glanced down at his crotch but didn't seem any less confused. "What?"
"She's feeling insecure," Harper explained. "About body stuff."
Wiping her nose with the back of her hand, Clarke sat up straight and tried to calm herself down. "I'm just emotional," she said, rolling her eyes at herself. "I've just been emotional for, like, a year now." When was she going to stop crying at the drop of a hat? Did that ever go away?
"Were you guys working out?" Bellamy asked, motioning to the iPad.
"Yeah," Harper said. "Post-natal Pilates."
"It's easy stuff," Clarke assured him. "But then she just started talking about squeezing and . . ." Pouting, she shook her head. "It's not working. I can't squeeze." Maybe they were just gonna have to start having more anal sex nowadays. Bellamy definitely wouldn't be mad about that.
"Okay," Harper said, standing up. "This is obviously a private thing, so I'm gonna pass this one off to you, Big Papa. Good luck."
"Yeah, thanks," he said, taking her seat as she grabbed her purse and practically sprinted out the door. He waited until she was gone to start talking. "Clarke. Would you look at me?"
She felt ridiculous and knew her eyes were probably all red and puffy. But she looked over at him anyway.
"Please," he said, "just believe me when I tell you you're the sexiest, most beautiful girl in the world to me. And I've traveled all over the world."
"Not to Asia," she mumbled. "Or Africa. Or Antarctica. So you can't say that for sure."
"Yes, I can," he insisted. Then, tilting his head to the side, he asked, "Do people actually live in Antarctica?"
"Yep," she said, nodding. "I watched a documentary the other day." She'd been watching a lot of TV lately now that he was back to work and Avery's main pastime was still sleeping.
"Huh," he said. And judging by the contemplative look on his face, he was definitely thinking about that now. But she was still stuck on this whole physical intimacy thing.
"When we start having sex again, what if it feels a lot different?" she asked him outright. Better to ask than to keep it bottled up inside.
"Then it feels a lot different. That's fine," he said with a nonchalant shrug. "But I've got news for you." He leaned in, kissed her cheek, then whispered his words into her ear, his warm breath spreading a tingle up her spine. "I'm not just gonna have sex with you. I'm gonna make love to you," he promised.
She had to shut her eyes for a moment, because just the thought of that reignited a desire that had been dormant for a while. Those last few weeks of pregnancy had dulled pretty much any and all desire to do anything frisky, but now, with those words from him, it came flooding back.
"Ah, there it is," he said. "There's a smile."
Well, apparently that had come back, too. Her emotions were still as changeable as a light switch, so she didn't feel like crying anymore. "You're good at being romantic," she told him, puckering up for a kiss. And he gave her one. And that one kiss quickly deepened and became more than one, and just when it was starting to feel like they might get a little make-out time, the sound of crying came over the baby monitor.
Bellamy pulled back slowly. "And Avery's good at interrupting a moment," he said, sighing. "I got her." He got up, headed for the stairs, and told her, "You just keep on going with your yoga."
"Pilates, Bellamy," she corrected him.
"Whatever it is, you don't even need it," he assured her as he marched up the stairs. When he was on the second floor, he called back down, "You're hot, Clarke!" And that made her smile just like him telling her he was going to make love to her had. She wasn't the type of girl who needed a man's validation by any means, but pregnancy had made her feel a little insecure in its aftermath. Luckily, she had a boyfriend who knew how to make her feel wanted in every single way.
...
Clarke had never taken her mom up on a dinner invitation as quickly as she did Friday night. End of the week, and she couldn't muster up the energy to do anything more than order pizza if she stayed home. Whatever her mom made was bound to be better.
The nice thing—well, one of many nice things—about Avery was that she gave everyone something to talk about. Even when she wasn't doing anything other than sleeping, she was always the center of the conversation. That meant that the usual tension between Bellamy and her mom was . . . less. Because they both loved Avery, and they both loved talking about her. Her mom was quite complimentary of him. When Avery started to cry and he instinctively knew to pick her up and burp her, even though she'd burped earlier after feeding, Abby watched him with an impressed look on her face and even told him it looked like he was doing a great job with her.
Kane seemed to be settling into a grandfather role quite easily. Avery liked to reach up and try to grab hold of his beard, which was longer than her daddy's, and sometimes Kane bent down and let her give it as much of a tug as her little hands were able to. He even volunteered to change a diaper when that need arose, and Clarke and Bellamy were both happy to let him.
After eating, Clarke halfheartedly volunteered to help her mom clean up, but her mother would have none of it. She got to work loading up the dishwasher while Clarke sat at the counter with Avery. Bellamy went outside with Kane and a couple of beers, just to stand by the pool and have some guy talk.
"I'm so glad you came over tonight," Clarke's mom said. "I really am."
So was she. Homemade pierogis were a lot better than greasy pizza. "You just wanted to see the baby," Clarke teased, rocking Avery gently as she dozed.
"And you, of course," her mom added. "And Bellamy."
Clarke's eyebrows shot upward.
"He and I are mending fences once and for all," her mom said. "I promise."
Clarke knew better than to assume the fences were all going to be mended overnight, but based on the overall pleasant vibe of this night, she felt encouraged. "He said you complimented his shirt," she said with a smile.
"It's a nice shirt," her mom mumbled.
It was a black t-shirt he'd tossed on after getting home from practice that afternoon. But he did look pretty damn hot in it. "You're trying to get on his good side," Clarke noted. Even if compliments like that were transparent, she wasn't mad about it.
"Maybe a little," her mom admitted. "I've got some forgiveness to earn." She looked down at the dirty plate in her hand for a few seconds, then shook her head, and loaded it into the dishwasher. Right back to work. But Clarke saw it, the momentary flash of regret. And she felt it, too. Every day. Her mom wasn't the only one trying to earn forgiveness for keeping Bellamy in the dark.
As easy as it would have been to just let it go, not venture back into the past, they had a moment alone without the guys, and what had happened back then still loomed very large over their lives today. "Mom?" she said quietly, even though the door to the backyard was shut and Bellamy and Kane wouldn't have been able to hear her. "With Avery being here now, does it make you think about . . . what could have been?"
Her mom didn't answer as she closed the dishwasher and turned it on.
"I've been thinking about it a lot lately," Clarke told her. "Sometimes it feels like I can't stop." She wasn't feeling plagued by thoughts to the point of feeling depressed, which was good, because post-partum depression was obviously a real concern for any new mom. But it did also feel like there wasn't a day that went by that she went without thinking about . . . her decision.
"Yeah, I think about it, too," her mom confessed, leaning back against the counter, her hands gripping the edge of it tightly.
Clarke looked down at her baby girl, in awe of her little eyelashes and her cute, rosy cheeks. "She could've had a sibling," she said sadly. She'd probably have one someday, but . . . not a big brother or sister. A little one.
...
It was ridiculous how into the first season of Teen Mom Clarke was. She'd never watched the show before, never had any desire to watch it . . . until now. She actually paid for the whole first season on Amazon, and even though she'd only started watching last night, she was already close to finishing up.
Her mother knocked on her bedroom door, but she was so absorbed in what was happening with what she was watching that she didn't pause and minimize the window on her laptop quickly enough. Her mom came right into the room without waiting for an invite, and without even a hint of a smile on her face. "Clarke," she said, her voice sounding stern and serious already. "What are you doing?"
"Nothing," she said, pausing but failing to minimize or exit out of her browser. Her computer was sort of laggy, and that gave her mom plenty of opportunity to look over her shoulder and see the episode paused right on a shot of Farrah and her daughter. And hadn't Farrah gone on to do porn? Great.
"What is that?" her mom said, making a face. "Oh, not that show."
"I just . . . wanted something to binge-watch," Clarke said, giving up on her computer. No need to try to hide what she'd been watching now.
Her mom sat down on her desk, picked up the computer, took a closer look at the paused image, and shook her head angrily. "That's not reality, Clarke," she said, practically slamming the laptop closed. "You know that, right? Those girls get paid for that show. Most of what you see is highly edited. And real life doesn't come with a pretty soundtrack and fancy editing like those episodes do."
How do you know about the soundtrack? Clarke wanted to ask. Was it actually possible her mom had turned in to a few episodes, too? "I'm just trying to figure out how I'm gonna make this work," she said. Sure, maybe Teen Mom wasn't the greatest resource for all her information, but . . . she simply couldn't read any more web articles that made motherhood sound like this beautiful, blessed miracle. It didn't feel like a miracle to her. Not at sixteen years old.
"Well, you'll have to figure it out soon," her mom said. "School's starting in two weeks."
Oh god, Clarke thought. That was just around the corner then. She was pretty sure she still didn't look pregnant, but what if she threw up in the middle of class? Or started crying out of nowhere? She'd cried a lot this past week. And what the hell was she supposed to do about cheerleading practice? She didn't feel right jumping around and dancing with a baby in there. All she could picture was it jiggling around, getting all shaken up.
"We do have a little time, though," her mom said, putting the computer back down.
"Time to what?" Clarke asked, afraid she already knew the answer to that question.
Her mom's eyes bore straight into hers, and her facial expression didn't even change when she answered, "To keep talking through your options."
Options. Given the way their last conversation about her 'options' had gone, Clarke felt like that could only mean one thing. "You mean . . . abortion?" she said, almost choking on the word. She got up from her desk chair and stammered, "No, I don't—I don't wanna talk about that."
"We need to," her mom insisted. "I know it's on your mind."
It hadn't been. Not really. Not until her mother had brought it up two days ago. "What do you want me to say, Mom?" she whispered tearfully, flapping her hands against her sides.
Her mother stood in front of her, grabbed her arms gently, and said, "You don't have to say anything. Just let me tell you what would happen, what your recovery would be like . . ."
"Mom, I can't . . ." Clarke pulled her arms away and backed up, shaking her head. "This is too much right now."
Apparently it wasn't too much for Abby Griffin, though, because she just kept on going. "I realize it's not a pleasant thing to think about or talk about," she acknowledged, "but I need you to understand that, if it's what you decide to do, it's nothing to be ashamed of."
Clarke narrowed her eyes suspiciously and asked, "Isn't it, though? I mean, we're talking about killing a baby."
"No, we're talking about making an informed choice about what happens to your own body," her mom said. "And it's not a baby yet."
"But it's gonna grow into one if I don't . . ." She trailed off, feeling like she might cry again. Dammit.
"Yeah, it's gonna grow into a baby," her mom said. "And that baby's gonna change your whole life. Forever. And Bellamy's."
Clarke winced. Bellamy. He was already off living his life, a whole new life, actually. Without her, and without the responsibility of a child holding him back. "I know that," she mumbled. As her frustration continued to mount, she got louder and couldn't hide the impatience in her own voice. "God, I already know." She turned her back on her mom, paced the room for a bit, and then ended up in front of her own floor-length mirror, a reflection she didn't recognize staring back at her. She didn't even feel like herself anymore. The girl who had walked into the boys locker room and asked Bellamy to take her virginity was gone, replaced by this girl, who would have done almost anything to have it back. "I wish I hadn't been so stupid, Mom," she confessed. "I wish I'd been more careful." It wasn't that she regretted being with Bellamy. She just . . . wished he would have put a condom on. She should have made him. Every single time. She was a doctor's daughter, after all. Should've known better.
"I wish you had, too," her mom said.
Clarke felt her bottom lip start to tremble, and her eyes stung as tears rose up within them. She blinked them back, though, because she was so damn tired of crying. "I don't know what to do," she whimpered, her whole mind a jumbled mess of ideas and emotions. On the show, some of the girls were struggling, but sometimes they looked really happy, too. And one of the couples had put their baby up for adoption, so . . . why rule that out?
Because it's not gonna happen, she thought, answering her own question. The only way she could put the baby up for adoption was if Bellamy agreed to it, and he wouldn't do that. He'd give up his entire dream to come back to Arkadia and be a father. And she couldn't let him do that alone. If he was going to do this, then she had no choice but to do it, too. To become a mom. Even if she wasn't ready.
"I feel like I should just take responsibility, but . . ." She gulped, turning away from her reflection because she didn't even want to look at herself anymore. "I'm so scared," she whispered. Her mom, at the very least, looked sympathetic now, but still dead set on having this conversation. She felt like she needed another source of advice, so she quickly ran through the possibilities in her head, and one stood out. "Maybe I should talk to Aurora," she pondered. "She got pregnant in high school, but she managed. And her family was a lot less well-off than we are."
"Clarke, if you tell Aurora, you might as well be telling Bellamy," her mother warned her. "Are you really ready for him to know?"
She hated feeling like she was hiding this for him, but . . . "No." She wasn't ready. The moment she told him, he got on a plane in Orlando and flew right back home. Farewell to football stardom, hello to a future full of fatherhood.
"Then just talk to me," her mom urged her. "That's why I'm here. Tell me what you think you wanna do."
"I don't know. That's the problem. I don't . . . I want . . ." It was scary to be honest with herself, to admit that what she wanted to do and what she thought she should do were perhaps two very different things. Finally, she couldn't take it anymore, though. The words poured out: "I want this whole thing to be over with. I just . . . I don't wanna be pregnant anymore." There was no containing the tears once she'd said all that out loud. She felt horrible. She felt like a horrible person. And it didn't matter that her mom came to collect her and practically pull her across the room to sit down on her bed. It didn't matter that she held her and hugged her while she started to sob, or that she whispered, "It's okay," and stroked her hair soothingly. She didn't feel okay.
...
Clarke made eye contact with her mom, and judging by the guilt she saw in them, she wondered if they were remembering the same thing. There had been so many chances for either one of them to stop and say, "Let's talk this through a little more." But neither one of them had. Once they'd gotten the ball rolling on that decision, they hadn't stopped.
"I meant what I said back then, Clarke," her mom said through a tightly clenched jaw. "Doing what you did, what we did . . . it's nothing to be ashamed of."
Yeah, she knew that. On some level, she knew. She wasn't the only woman in the world who had had an abortion. Hadn't been the first, wouldn't be the last. There were . . . circumstances. Reasoning. But there was also still regret, and lately, there was a lot of it.
"If anything, it was more my doing than yours," her mom said.
"No, you didn't force me to make the decision I did," Clarke assured her.
"But I encouraged it."
Clarke opened her mouth to respond, but no words came out. It was true. Once the idea had been firmly planted, her mom had nurtured it, helped it grow. Against her dad's wishes, of course, which had really ended up fueling their divorce.
"Then I guess it's just something we both have to live with," Clarke muttered, looking down at Avery again. At least she got to live with another child, too.
"Yep," her mom said. And even without looking at her, Clarke knew her eyes were focused on her granddaughter.
...
Bellamy took a swig of his beer, glanced back over his shoulder inside the house, and he couldn't help but notice that Clarke wasn't smiling. It didn't look like she and her mom were arguing or anything, but . . . he had a feeling he knew what they were talking about.
"Hey, Kane?" he said.
"Yeah?"
"I need some advice," he blurted. There was absolutely no segue from what they'd been talking about—sports, admittedly—to this, but he didn't care.
"What kind of advice?" Kane asked.
"Uh . . ." He hesitated, scratched his eyebrow, and then mumbled, "Romance advice."
Kane smirked. "Well, you've come to the right man."
"I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm no slouch in the romance department," he said. "But I feel like Clarke's been kinda . . . hard on herself lately."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, she's been thinking a lot about . . . things," Bellamy answered. "And she's upset with the way her body's looking, even though I tell her she looks great. But we can't really . . ." He felt odd saying it, so he tried to rephrase. "I mean, we've still got a few weeks before we can . . . you know." He wouldn't have been so vague with Miller or Murphy or any of his guy friends, but Kane was more like a father figure. "This is weird, isn't it?" he said. "I'm practically talking about your stepdaughter."
"It's a little weird," Kane admitted.
"Sorry. I just need some ideas for things I could do with her to make her feel good, you know?" He downed the rest of his beer and tossed the empty bottle into the outdoor trash bin. "And I can't ask any of my friends, 'cause they don't fuckin' know. Murphy couldn't be romantic if you paid him, and Miller only knows how to romance other guys."
Kane laughed.
"I guess I could ask Raven or Harper, or maybe Lexa," he pondered, "but they might let something slip to her. And I want it to be a surprise, whatever it ends up being."
"What about Lincoln?" Kane suggested.
"My pride prevents me from asking him."
Again, that got a chuckle out of Kane. "Well, I'll tell you what I think," he said. "Now keep in mind, I've never had a new baby or anything like that, but I'd imagine you and Clarke are both feeling pretty exhausted still."
Understatement, he thought. "I don't even remember what a full night of sleep feels like." Between her pregnancy and this baby, it'd been so fuckin' long.
"But at the same time, she'd probably really like to get out of the house. So you could take her out," Kane advised. "Date night. Once a week, once every other week . . . whatever works for the two of you. And here's the important part: No Avery allowed. You get Abby and me or your mom or someone else to watch her. You and Clarke need time to yourselves to just enjoy each other's company."
"Yeah, that's what I was thinking." He loved his daughter dearly, but he loved Clarke, too.
"But don't try anything too extravagant," Kane cautioned. "You don't want the dates to exhaust you even more."
"So I gotta keep it simple," he concluded. "What, like a movie or something?"
"Sure. Why not?"
He wasn't even sure what was out in theaters, or if anything looked good. But it was summer, and summer usually brought out some big films. "Alright, I can do that," he said. Back in high school, he and Clarke had gone to a couple of movies. Although they'd usually ended up doing some frisky stuff in the back of the theater from the moment the lights dimmed onward. So maybe that was why, even though he didn't have the slightest recollection what movies they'd gone to see, he did remember having a damn good time at them.
...
"Bellamy, I don't know about this," Clarke bemoaned as her boyfriend practically dragged her out of his mom's room and into the living room.
"She's gonna be fine," he said.
She already knew that. They'd brought over the portable bassinet to Aurora's house, and multiple bottles filled with milk Clarke had started pumping the night before. They'd also brought her purple bunny and all the other stuff she was used to having with her and needed. But still, the thought of not being with her tonight, even if it wasn't the whole night . . . it made Clarke's stomach roil with worry.
"But if she gets hungry . . . she's never fed from a bottle before," she said, purposefully dragging her feet so Bellamy really had to pull her along with him.
"It's still all your milk. I'm sure she won't care," he said.
Clarke dug her heels into the carpet so hard that she would no longer budge.
"No, I mean . . . nothing could ever replicate the experience of doing that with you," he corrected himself. "Mother/daughter bonding and all that. But this is the next best thing."
Clarke moaned, still semi-protesting, even though she had to admit, it was kind of exciting to think of what they could do with hours upon hours of time by themselves. With Avery, everything revolved around her, and Clarke didn't really mind. But if it was just her and Bellamy, they didn't have to worry about checking the baby monitor at all times, and they didn't have to stop everything at any given moment to change another dirty diaper. And they really were getting dirtier by the day, which kind of sucked.
"Why are you guys still here?" Octavia asked them from the kitchen. She'd returned to her spot at the kitchen table, an open textbook and messy, unorganized binder lying in front of her. She'd stopped studying the moment they'd shown up with Avery, but Clarke was actually kind of proud to see her getting back at it. She'd opted to take a summer class, just because she wanted to graduate quicker.
"We're leaving," Bellamy told her.
"You were supposed to leave ten minutes ago," she pointed out.
"Yeah, but we were just double-checking to make sure we brought everything," Clarke said. Which was kind of a lie. They'd double and triple-checked at home. The only thing that was taking so long right now was saying goodbye to Avery, leaving her there in the bedroom with his mom and walking out the door. Even though this whole date night had been Bellamy's idea, she could tell that it was hard for him to drop her off, too.
"I think you brought her whole nursery," Octavia said, setting her pencil down. "Look, my mom raised two kids already, one who is absolutely fantastic, and another who's . . . sufficiently mediocre."
"She's the mediocre one," Bellamy claimed.
Octavia just rolled her eyes. "If anyone's fit to be a babysitter, it's her."
Clarke squirmed, feeling like such a clingy mother. "I know. It's just hard, 'cause . . . we haven't left her alone with anyone before. I've barely left her alone at all."
"Clarke." Bellamy grabbed hold of her hand and gave it a squeeze. "We need this."
"Yeah, but would I rather be watching Avery or watching . . . what movie are we seeing again?" She hadn't picked it out, hadn't even bothered to see what was showing.
"I don't remember what it's called," he admitted. "But it's heavy R."
"Why?" she asked. "Not, like, violence, right?" Gory films weren't her thing.
"No. Sex."
"Oh, really?" Now that was . . . intriguing.
"Yeah, I figured we'd go see a sexy movie, get us in the mood for that long-awaited day a couple weeks down the line when we can finally . . ." He didn't get to finish, because Octavia started making exaggerated puking sounds to indicate how grossed out she was. "Way to kill my moment, O," he grumbled.
"Had to," she said. "Now not to sound like a bitch or anything, but why don't you guys just leave already?"
Clarke glanced at the clock, recognizing that they really needed to. The movie started in twenty-five minutes.
"My mom's with the baby," he said. "And my sister's kickin' us out."
She sighed, relenting once and for all, and said, "Alright, let's go see this raunchy movie." Once they were there, she knew she'd probably just be in the moment with him, and she'd have a really good time. Yes, she'd still be excited to come home and see Avery, but there was more to her than being a mom and more to him than being a dad. They were also still a couple, and they needed coupley time.
"Let's go," he said, leading her out the door. "See you, O!" he called. "Have fun being mediocre."
"I think you mean fantastic!" she shouted after him.
Once they were at the theater, Clarke was relieved to see it wasn't too crowded for a Friday night. A lot of people didn't seem to bother with the theater anymore, especially not with the local one here in Arkadia. They had a small selection of movies, and usually the theaters weren't the cleanest. But both she and Bellamy had agreed that driving to Polis or anywhere out of town was out of the question. They wanted to be close by just in case, by some freak chance, something went wrong with Avery and his mom had to call them.
They got their tickets quickly enough that they still had time to stand in line for refreshments. As they waited for his pop and her popcorn, they noticed a few dads getting dragged into the theater showing the latest Disney movie. Frozen 5 or something? Clarke wasn't really sure how many Frozens there were anymore, and she hoped those movies waned in popularity by the time Avery was old enough to be one of the little girls who might be a fan of them.
"Oh, god, look at them," Bellamy leaned over and said quietly as two little girls pulled their dads in. "They look miserable. But that's gonna be me someday, isn't it?"
"Oh, yeah." As much as those dads might have had no interest in any Disney movie, there wasn't a doubt in her mind that they loved spending time with their daughters, and that would totally be Bellamy. He'd probably play dress up with Avery, and have tea parties with her, and let her put makeup all over his face. If she was a girly girl. If she had any trace of a tomboy in her, though, she had no doubt that he'd try to nurture that, show her how to catch a football, go running with her.
They ended up getting their food and drink with just enough time left to slip inside the theater for their movie, and they sat pretty far in the back. Clarke had barely even made a dent in her large popcorn, though, and the trailers had only just begun when she felt herself falling asleep. It happened quickly and wasn't something she could stop. At certain points, she could still hear sounds coming from those loud speakers, usually sexy sounds, but it wasn't enough to wake her up. And she didn't even want to wake up, because she was having a pretty sexy dream. Whether that had come about as a result of her own imagination or the movie seeping into her sub-consciousness, she didn't really know, but it was the kind of dream worth having, that was for sure.
Only when the lights came on did she jolt awake, realizing her head had been on Bellamy's shoulder the whole time. "I loved it," she claimed. Even though she hadn't seen a second of it.
"Me, too," he said, likewise sounding as if he'd been asleep. Judging by the drool he wiped off the corner of his mouth, he definitely had been.
So the movie had been a bust. As they strolled out of the theater and she dumped her cold popcorn in the trash, she had to laugh. It was a far cry from fooling around in there back in the day, unzipping each other's pants to get each other off right there in public without anyone else in the theater knowing what was going on. But it was still a good time, in its own way. So what if they'd fallen asleep? They were still brand new parents, and their brand new baby still didn't know how to sleep through the night.
"You were right," she said, holding his hand as they walked back out past the concession stand. "This was a good idea. I had fun."
"But we barely saw any of the movie," he pointed out.
"I don't care about the movie," she said. "It was fun just getting to spend time with you. It makes me feel young again."
"You are young," he assured her. "We both are."
"Yeah, but I feel old," she lamented. "Between my body changes and the sleep deprivation . . . I feel like I've aged ten years in the past three weeks."
He slowed, then stepped in front of her, took both her hands in his, and said, "You look the same to me."
She smiled, even though she doubted it. Her waist wasn't as tiny as it'd been back then, and her boobs were more heavy than perky. She didn't take as much time on her hair or makeup as she used to, and he'd probably gotten used to seeing her with bags under her eyes. But even knowing all that, hearing him say that, and feeling the warmth of his gaze, stirred all sorts of desires inside. "Kiss me," she told him.
He grinned and backed her up towards the wall, much like he had the first time he'd kissed her back in the locker room. His arms and hands and shoulders were bigger than hers, so encompassing, as he pressed his mouth to hers and kissed her deeply, passionately, without regard for anyone else around.
She felt like she could have stood there with him for a long time, felt the urge to open up her mouth and let his tongue wrap around hers. But that was a little too much PDA, especially with little kids beginning to emerge from the theater they'd dragged their dads into an hour and a half earlier. Frozen (or whatever the hell it was) must have been done. The title on the screen above the theater showed the next movie up, and it definitely didn't sound like a Disney movie. In fact, Clarke was pretty sure it was another showing of the film they'd just slept through.
"Mmm, you wanna sneak into the back of that theater and make out for a while?" she asked him playfully. Now that she'd gotten a nap, she felt good to go.
"I'm sure my mom wouldn't mind watching Avery for a little longer," was his response.
Yeah, it would be just a little while. Fifteen or twenty minutes, maybe. They couldn't impose on his mom too much, even though she'd jumped at the opportunity to be Avery's first babysitter. They still needed to get home to her and wanted to get home to her, but . . . they also wanted each other. And even though they'd been slow getting out the door, in large part because of her, now that she was already out, she didn't mind the thought of staying out just slightly longer than they'd intended. This was their one and only date night this week, and the first they'd had in a long time. She didn't want to sleep through all of it.
Grabbing Bellamy's hand excitedly, feeling like a teenager again, at least for the time being, she led him towards the theater.
