Chapter 78

Clarke waited as patiently as she could for her friends to show up at Eligius for the brunch she'd hastily scheduled with them last night. But she wasn't patient. Not only were the smells from the kitchen driving her mad with hunger, she also couldn't wait to get everyone together so she could tell them about . . . everything.

Raven was the first to show up, fifteen minutes late, hair falling out of her signature ponytail. "Hey. Sorry I'm late," she apologized. "Murphy was going through one of his rare romantic phases this morning, so I had to take advantage of it by getting all naked with him."

Clarke cringed at the thought of Murphy in his birthday suit.

"TMI?" Raven asked, sitting down at the table.

"No," Clarke told her. "Get it while you can." Hell, if she and Bellamy were still able to have mornings like that, she would have gladly shown up late, too.

"Where's Harper?" Raven asked, picking up a menu.

"I guess she's running late, too," Clarke said. It also wasn't like her to not be on time.

"And who else is coming?"

"Octavia." Her lateness was less surprising.

"Not that I mind hanging out with her," Raven said, "but does she have any friends her own age?"

Clarke thought about it, unsure. "Maybe. But she likes us better."

"We're very likable," Raven said, smirking. "And you're soon to be her family."

Sooner than you know, Clarke thought, the anticipation continuing to build.

Harper came in next, looking a little . . . flushed. "Hey, guys. Sorry to keep you waiting," she said. "Monty and I were . . . spending time together."

Obviously, Clarke thought. In addition to being flushed, Harper was rocking some sex hair.

"I can totally relate," Raven said, grinning. They went on to call waitress over and order lots of food, while Clarke just ordered two scrambled eggs and toast. She was hungrier for more, but in between trying to lose weight and not having sex as a regular workout anymore, she was more determined to watch her portions.

When Octavia finally showed up nearly twenty-five minutes late, she wasn't apologetic about it. She just strolled in as if she were on time and announced, "I'm here, I'm here."

"I swear to God," Clarke grumbled, "if you were having sex with Lincoln . . ."

"Oh, no," Octavia said. And for a second, Clarke felt less envious. Until she added, "I was having oral sex with Lincoln."

Huffing in exasperation, Clarke finally allowed herself to vocalize her frustration. "Was everyone getting some this morning except me?" That just wasn't fair.

"Oh, it's okay, Clarke," Raven assured her. "I'm sure your morning was exciting, too."

"Yeah, tell us about it," Harper invited.

"Well . . ." She tried to come up with something about her morning that was story-worthy, but all she could think of was, "Avery had a slightly less poopy diaper than normal." She knew none of them would understand. And indeed, Raven looked confused while Harper tried her best to smile and nod. Octavia looked like she was having to hold in laughter. "Look, when you have a kid, everything changes," Clarke told them. "You'll understand why that's exciting someday."

"Hey, it's fine by me," Octavia said. "I don't wanna hear about you screwing my brother anyway. I heard enough of that growing up."

"No way," Clarke said doubtfully. "We were very quiet."

"No, you weren't," Octavia readily informed her.

But we tried so hard, Clarke thought. Whenever they'd decided to do it when Octavia had been home, they'd gone out of their way just to whisper.

"Well, hey, if you want some alone time with your man, just let me and Murphy know," Raven told her. "We can watch Avery tonight, or any night this week, really."

"Same," Octavia added.

"Yeah, I'm pretty available, too," Harper offered.

Clarke knew they probably all expected her to take full advantage of their offers, which were super generous, but she couldn't bear the thought of a night without her daughter. When she thought of that, all she could picture was Avery waking up in the middle of the night, crying for her mama and her mama not being there. "Thanks, you guys, but we're kinda attached to her," she said. "We're not ready to spend the night away from her yet."

"Who's watching her today?" Octavia asked.

"Kane. He had the day off." She already planned to stop over that afternoon just to check up on them, though. "I'm glad it worked out for all of us to get together today, though," she went on, "'cause . . . well, I have something to tell all of you guys."

Harper and Raven glanced at each other curiously, and Octavia's mouth dropped open in astonishment. "Oh my god," she said dramatically. "Are you pregnant again?"

"Oh, god no. Nothing like that." Just the thought of going through that whole nine-month process all over again so soon sounded like torture. "I just wanted to let you guys know, as my bridesmaids, that . . . Bellamy and I might be getting married sooner rather than later."

"Oh?" Raven said, her eyebrows arching upward with intrigue. "How soon?"

"Very," Clarke replied. "Like maybe next week."

"What?" Raven shrieked.

"Yeah."

"That's so soon."

"I know. But we really don't wanna wait." She wasn't about to bring up Finn and his particular role in speeding things along, because that really wasn't anyone's business except hers and Bellamy's. Besides, it wasn't like he was the only motivating factor.

"Oh my god. This is exciting!" Harper bubbled.

"And long overdue," Octavia added. "My brother's been wantin' to wife you up for a while now."

Clarke smiled, so ready to actually be his wife. She already felt like she was, but it was time to make it official. "So do you guys think you can save the date?" she asked hopefully. "Not this weekend, but the next."

"Yeah, of course," Raven said. But then she quickly added, "Oh, shoot, Murphy and I are going on vacation. But, uh . . . that's alright. We'll just fly out a day or two later."

"Are you sure?" Clarke hated that they would have to alter their travel plans because of her.

"Yeah. It's no big deal," Raven assured her. "This is way more important. I wouldn't miss it for the world."

"Thank you," Clarke said, feeling so grateful to have such a good friend and maid of honor. "All of you," she said. "It really means a lot." As long as the people she loved and who loved her were there, then that was all that mattered. But still, she wanted it to be a cute, romantic ceremony, and she knew that, in order to achieve that so quickly, she was going to need some assistance. "So," she said, "who's gonna help me throw this wedding together?"

Judging by the looks and smiles on the other faces at the table, she had three very eager volunteers.

Since the venue was set for the beach, the biggest priority was definitely picking out what everyone was going to wear. All three of the girls cleared their afternoon schedules and accompanied Clarke to the nearest bridal shop, which was up in Polis. It was one of those places that looked like nothing on the outside but was really something inside. There were so many dresses to choose from that Clarke felt overwhelmed. She knew her mom would want her to go with a classic style, but her friends kept trying to persuade her to try something a little more modern. They had her try on boho dresses and even short dresses, but she wasn't feeling anything until the store manager brought out a dress that wasn't even on display yet. It was long and beautiful, a little more off-white than pure white. Depending on how the light hit it, it could either look a little champagne-colored or even pale pink. The bodice was covered in lace and sparkles and came down in a V cut, but it was still done in a tasteful way that wouldn't show too much cleavage. It also wasn't strapless, which Clarke preferred, and it was perfectly high-waisted, so it seemed like it would be pretty flattering. The bottom was loose and flowy and didn't have a super long train, so it practically embodied the beachy look she was going for. Although it had several layers of fabric on the bottom, the outer later was sheer, so the whole thing was exactly what she was going for.

When she tried it on, it fit like a glove, almost like it was meant to be. Each and every one of her friends agreed that it was the dress, the obvious choice. And it really was, so Clarke didn't even feel the need to try any others on after that. She was able to help them find bridesmaids dresses they could all agree on instead. Even though they'd all gone into the store wanting different colors and styles, they managed to find these long light blueish/grey chiffon gowns that looked nice on all of them. They were comfortable and complimentary, and with no alterations needed, that meant they were perfect.

The shopping after that felt relatively easy in comparison. Just shoes and jewelry. Clarke felt like she had the prettiest piece of jewelry already on her ring finger, though, so everything else was just extra. Extra in the best way possible, though. She loved getting to do all this bride-to-be stuff, even if she had to do it fast.

...

Since Clarke didn't exactly know how to tell her mom that she was now going to beat her down the aisle, she decided simply to tell her over the phone. That way, if she was mad, she'd only have to hear it instead of seeing it.

"What do you mean this weekend?" her mom screeched after she dropped the bombshell on her.

"Not this weekend. Next weekend," Clarke corrected.

"But that's—that's still so soon," her mom sputtered. "What's the rush?"

Well, at least she didn't sound mad. More like . . . surprised. "We just wanna make things official," Clarke explained. "You know, why wait?" Maybe a year-long engagement would work for her mom and Kane, but it just wasn't going to work for her and Bellamy.

"But that doesn't leave you any time to plan," her mom said. "It takes longer than you might think. You have to book a venue months out these days."

"The beach," Clarke blurted.

"What?"

"We're having it on the beach." It was so simple, she couldn't believe she hadn't thought of it earlier.

"The . . . well, okay, that works," her mom admitted. "But then there's the dress . . ."

"I found one today. And I even got a discount on it." She looked at her closet where it now hung, just waiting to be worn on the big day. She'd shown Bellamy, and he'd seemed to like it, but of course he wasn't going to see her wearing it before he was supposed to. "It's really pretty," she said. "I think it's gonna look really nice in pictures, which I was thinking I could just get Murphy to do since he did a really good job on the pictures I had when I was pregnant and-" She stopped abruptly when she heard her mom sniffle. "What?"

There was a slight pause as her mom sniffled again. "Oh, nothing," she said, in that sad voice that clearly meant she wasn't just feeling nothing. "I didn't get to go wedding dress shopping with you, that's all."

Oh, crap, Clarke thought. Here she was just rambling about it when she hadn't even considered that her mom might want to be a part of that moment. "I'm sorry." In her head, she'd always just pictured it as something she and her friends would do together.

"I wanted to go with you," her mom said tearfully. "You're my daughter. My only daughter."

Clarke cringed, putting herself in her mother's shoes. If Avery was getting married someday and excluded her from that aspect of the pre-wedding, she'd feel hurt, too. "Mom, I'm so sorry," she apologized. "I just . . . I went with my friends and . . . I'm really sorry." She knew that wasn't much of a comfort, because it wasn't like she'd ever go wedding dress shopping again. Unless she decided to renew her vows someday. Then she could at least bring her mom along for that. "It's pretty, though," she said. "You'll like it."

Her mom continued to cry lightly, which only made Clarke feel guiltier. "You thought I'd take over and be bossy, didn't you?" she said. "That's why you didn't invite me along."

"No, not at all," she said, but truthfully . . . maybe that had been part of it. Maybe some part of her, some subconscious part, had purposefully not included her in the process. "Look, I kind of just wanted it to be a me-and-my-bridesmaids type of thing. But I'll go shopping with you to pick out your dress." Maybe that could help remove the sting, ease the hurt in some way.

"Okay," her mom said. "I'd like that. And I am happy for you, Clarke, and I'm excited to see the dress and see you get married. I am. It's just . . . all of a sudden, this is all just happening really fast."

The bathroom door opened, and out came Bellamy in just his sweatpants, hair wet from the shower he'd just taken. He opened up one of the dresser drawers and started looking inside for a t-shirt.

"No, it's not," Clarke said, watching him. There was nothing fast about marrying the guy who'd been the one for her for a long, long time.

...

Feeling like a zombie, Clarke traipsed down to the football field with the rest of the cheerleading squad. Her pom poms dangled in her hands, and the cloudy, overcast sky really matched her whole mood.

"Okay, girls, we've got our first game at the end of the week, and we're performing at halftime," Raven reminded them as they stepped out onto the track. "And we're not ready, so once we get out on that field, you'd better give it all you've got. Or I'll murder you. Okay?"

A few of the girls mumbled some things in response, but no one questioned Raven's authority. They set their water bottles down and stepped out onto that turf, ready to get in formation and run their routine. But Clarke just stood there, her feet feeling like they were glued in place as she looked towards that end zone. For two years, she'd watched Bellamy run the football in for a big score, or make these huge, often game-winning passes. She'd cheered him on and celebrated with him last year. And sometimes, after he'd scored, he'd looked in her direction and smiled at her. And of course she'd smiled back, and that wordless interaction alone had been enough to make her so damn happy.

But it wouldn't happen this year. There would be no smiles, no one special to cheer on. When she stood on that sideline, watching the game play out in front of her, Bellamy wouldn't be a part of it. Yet she still had to be. It didn't feel right.

"Hey," Raven said softly, approaching her with a look of concern on her face. "You okay?"

No, Clarke thought, tearing her eyes away from the field. But she forced a lie out instead of the truth. "Yeah." Tightening her grip on the inner handlebar of her poms, she headed out onto the field, trying to remember where she was at in the formation, trying to remember what the first move of the dance even was. She hadn't practiced at all.

Since they were having problems getting everything in unison, Raven started them out with counts instead of music. She stood in front of them and yelled, "Five, six, seven, eight!" and Clarke was wrong even on the first move. She popped up when she was supposed to bend down. Then she totally screwed up her counts on the ripple, going with the back row instead of the front. She missed the first jump completely and collided with another girl on her way to the next formation.

"Okay, stop!" Raven shouted. "You guys . . . what's going on? This doesn't look like a team that went and placed third at state. Pull it together."

I can't, Clarke thought, glancing out at the empty field again. There was so much she just couldn't pull together anymore.

"Jess, you've gotta be sharper. We've been through this," Raven critiqued. "Same with you, Emma. And Clarke . . . what's the deal? You look like you barely even know the routine."

Because I don't, Clarke thought. It felt kind of weird getting called out, because she'd never been one of the girls Raven had to get after. In fact, she was one of the reliable ones. She was up in the front because it was expected that she would always know the dance and always be able to do it without messing up much. But right now . . . she was just a mess in general, wasn't she?

"Okay, let's go back to the first formation and run it from there," Raven said. "We'll slow it down."

As all the other girls sulked back to their spots, Clarke just stood there, momentarily lost in thought. And suddenly, she felt like something clicked into place. Some realization, some decision that had been on the back burner of her mind ever since school had started back up. "Hey, Raven?" she said, stepping out of the formation to approach her friend. "Can I talk to you?"

If it had been anyone else, Raven probably would have told her to talk to her after practice. But she must have sensed that something was truly wrong, because she told the other girls, "Okay, run it without me," and pulled Clarke aside. "What's up?" she asked.

Clarke helplessly flapped her poms against her sides and blurted out, "I can't do this."

"No, you can," Raven assured her. "Don't worry. I'll come over and we'll drill it tonight. You'll get it."

"No, I mean, I can't . . ." She trailed off, unreasonably frustrated with her best friend for not just understanding. "I don't wanna do this anymore," she said, laying it out as succinctly as she could. "Cheerleading."

Raven's whole expression changed in an instant. "What? Why not?"

"I'm just over it." Maybe that was only part of the reason, but it was the only part Raven or anyone else needed to know.

"But you're one of the best ones on the squad," Raven said.

"I'm average."

"No, you're good. You're probably gonna be the captain next year." Raven pouted. "Clarke, we need you. You've got a spot in all these formations. If you quit now, that screws everything up for Friday."

She felt bad, especially since she wasn't the type to quit anything she'd started. But her heart wasn't in it anymore. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to screw anything up for you, but . . . I'm done," she said, not willing to change her mind. "I'm quitting."

Raven folded her arms over her chest, clearly a bit perturbed with her, and challenged her when she asked, "What's this really about? Bellamy?"

"No," she said. "No, it's not, I swear." But of course it was. Of course the thought of standing out there every Friday night and cheering on a bunch of guys who weren't him just sounded awful. And of course she didn't want the attention that automatically came with being a cheerleader in a small school. After everything that had happened, she didn't need eyes on her. "It's just me," she said, hating that she had to let her best friend down like this. "I don't feel like a cheerleader anymore." She couldn't even muster up a smile, let alone enough spirit to wear the uniform. Somewhere in that school was another girl, an alternate who would gladly take her spot on the team. "I'm really sorry," she said again, handing Raven her poms. There wasn't really anything else she could say, so she left it at that and walked away from the field that had once been a fun, lively place for her to be.

...

Clarke felt entranced by Bellamy, totally fixated on his back and shoulders as he found the shirt he wanted and put it on. God, he was a good-looking guy. Those looks matched with that personality . . . damn, she felt like a lucky girl.

"Is she pissed?" he asked quietly, pointing at her phone.

She covered it up while her mother continued talking and answered, "No. She's just . . . being a mom."

He sauntered towards her, a slightly mischievous look in his eyes, and asked, "Need a distraction?"

Maybe she didn't need one, but she definitely wanted one, so she didn't object when his arms wound around her waist, pulling her close to him. She wanted to put her arms around his neck, but she still was on the phone, and her mom didn't sound like she was even close to done talking.

"I'll distract you," he said with a grin, lowering his mouth to latch onto the side of her neck. Each kiss made a noise, and Clarke wondered if her mom would be able to hear.

"Well, you know what, honey?" her mom said, even though she was just having a one-way conversation at this point. "I'm happy for you. I really am. And if this is how you wanna go about planning your wedding day, then . . . I'm just gonna support you. And I'll help you out however I can. Sound good?"

When Bellamy's tongue swirled over her neck, Clarke couldn't contain a moan. "Mmm, yeah," she said. When she remembered she was still on the phone, she cleared her throat and said, "Yes. Yes, that sounds great." Bellamy didn't let up with the kissing, though, and in fact, his hands became more daring, too, as they slid down to cup her ass. She knew she had to end the call quickly, so she told a little white lie when she said, "Um, Mom, I have to let you go now. Avery needs me. But we'll talk tomorrow, okay?"

"Oh, okay," her mom said. "Give her a kiss for me."

"Will do. Bye." She ended the call quickly and tossed her phone on the bed. And then she got right to work kissing her fiancé.

"Look at you," he murmured against her lips. "Usin' the baby as an excuse to get off the phone."

"I just wanna focus," she said.

"On what?"

"You." She trailed one hand down to his sweatpants, undoing the drawstring. "Certain parts of you."

Bellamy gave her one more kiss, then moved his head so that his bearded cheek was rubbing against the side of her face. "You should let me go down on you," he spoke quietly into her ear.

"No, not yet," she said, still a little too insecure to let him get up close like that. "Sorry."

He must have been disappointed, but he didn't let it show. "No, that's okay."

"You could fuck me, though," she told him.

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah." She tugged upward on his shirt, wishing he hadn't even bothered to put it on. "Every one of my bridesmaids got laid this morning. I was jealous."

"Every one of them?" he asked.

"Yep. Even Octavia."

He made a face. "Disgusting."

Laughing, she pulled his shirt up over his head and dropped it onto the floor. "Do you think she heard us going at it back in the day?" she asked as they stumbled towards the bed.

"Oh, yeah, no doubt," he said.

"Really?"

"Yeah. We got loud." He pulled back the covers and lay down with her, on top of her like a big, warm blanket. "Everyone heard, Clarke. Octavia. The neighbors. That half-deaf guy who lives down the street."

"Oh, god." That didn't bode well for the future then, considering the fact that their daughter's room was just across the hall. "What're we gonna do when Avery's older and we have to be quiet for her?" she wondered.

"I don't even know," he said. "Maybe we should just be loud now while we still can." He kissed her again, and she really liked that idea. Right now, if she wanted to scream out his name and some accompanying profanities, she could. And if he fucked her hard or long enough, she definitely would.

Just as they'd started to make out again, though, the worst possible interruption happened. The doorbell. The damn doorbell, which had never sounded more annoying than it did in that moment, rang out, and Bellamy groaned, "Oh . . . you gotta be fuckin' kidding me."

"Who is that?" Clarke groaned in complaint. Why did someone have to stop by right in the middle of sexy time?

"I don't know," he said, climbing off the bed. "You stay here. I'll go check."

She sighed heavily, disappointed that, although the moment wasn't ruined by any means, it was definitely disrupted. When he walked out of the room, she decided she'd get undressed and lube herself up, just to make less work for him when he returned.

...

Bellamy had half a mind to kill whoever was on the other side of that door. How often did he and Clarke actually have the chance to screw around with each other anymore? Hardly ever. They were either too tired or too busy, so sex was now a precious commodity in their lives.

He just became even more pissed when he opened up the door and saw Finn Collins standing on the other side. As if he had any right to be there. "What the hell do you want?" Bellamy spat out at him. Fuck, why hadn't he just kept that door closed, pretended no one was home?

"Nice to see you, too, Bellamy," Finn said. "Listen, I just wanted to come congratulate you on your engagement. That's great news."

Bellamy wasn't about to fall for that, though, so he grumbled, "Cut the crap. Why are you really here?"

"I really did wanna congratulate you," Finn insisted.

"No, you didn't." That was a lie, and they both knew it.

Sighing, Finn motioned over his shoulder and asked, "You wanna step outside?"

Did he? No. In fact, all he wanted to do was go back upstairs and crawl back into bed with the girl who was going to be his wife. But he felt compelled to find out the real reason why Finn had decided to stop by, so he called up to Clarke and said, "Hey, babe, I'll be back up in a minute, alright? Miller's here." He winced inwardly at the lie, but if he told her who'd really rung that doorbell, she would have come downstairs, too.

"Okay!" she called back. "I'll be ready for you!"

He sort of loved the fact that it was so obvious they'd been ready to fool around. He didn't even have a shirt on, and he hoped Finn was jealous. Heading outside with him, he closed the door, hoping this wouldn't take too long.

"Sorry to interrupt," Finn said. "I just thought you and I should talk about things. Man to man."

Bellamy had to laugh at that, because in what alternate reality did Finn live where he thought he was a man? A coward, for sure, but not a man. "Talk on," he said, hoping every part of this conversation was as laughable as that.

Unfortunately, he quickly realized that there would be nothing else to laugh about when Finn started in with, "Well, Clarke told me you wanna adopt Avery."

His jaw clenched, and he crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at this complete and utter loser who had no right to even say that little girl's name.

"And I respect that," Finn claimed. "Really, I do. But it kinda pisses me off that you guys just made the decision without me."

Son of a bitch, Bellamy thought, resisting the urge to just deck the guy. Instead, he decided to rub some salt in the wound by pointing out, "Yeah, well, we're raising the baby without you, so I think that kind of gives us the right."

"But I'm her biological father," Finn said. "I have rights, too."

"Do you?" Bellamy challenged, hoping to make him doubt himself. "You gave those up when you decided to let Clarke do this alone."

Finn wasn't as easily as deterred as he'd hoped, though. "No, I didn't," he said. "Look, I don't want this to cause some huge problem for all of us. I'm just letting you know . . . a little respect in return would be nice."

Bellamy rolled his eyes, thinking, No way. He wasn't going to respect Finn Collins, not now, not ever.

"I feel like I haven't gotten that so far," Finn said, "and to be honest, I'm really not sure how I feel about the way this is all playing out."

Even though Bellamy didn't want to show nerves or weakness of any sort, he couldn't help but feel freaked out inside, his mind automatically racing with so many of his worst fears. "What're you saying?" he asked, afraid of the answer.

Finn was vague when he replied, "I'm just saying I don't like it." But that was still enough to make Bellamy feel completely on edge. Because that was the whole reason Finn had come by, just to let him know that. Not Clarke, but him.

Bellamy didn't have a comeback, not that anything he said could have the same impact anyway. Finn was able to leave, probably feeling proud of himself for coming over and voicing his opinion, but that meant Bellamy just had to stand there feeling worried, wondering what he'd meant even after he was gone. He didn't like the way this was playing out, so . . . what, was he just going to stay pissed? Or was he actually gonna try to do something about it? Finn said he didn't want it to cause problems, but what if that was a lie? What if that was exactly what he wanted?