All right; one theme I kind of don't like is the constant hate on Finn. Sure, he got bad towards the end of the show, but he started out as a cool guy. So I am NOT going to have Finn be the antagonist in this. He is still Finn. Modern Finn, but Finn. Frankly I feel bad for him a lot of the time. Oh, and please review (the next chapter of the 99 is almost done).

Mom wasn't back when I made it home from school. No surprise there; she often worked late. Sometimes she'd go days without coming home, too busy with her usual maelstrom of surgeries and rounds. That was the hand cardiologists got dealt, after all.

It might've made for some lonely evenings spent in front of the TV, but I understood. It's what I wanted to do in the future, so at least I wouldn't go in as some naïve kid who didn't know what she was getting herself into. I knew it with every iota of my being, and every one of those craved to be in scrubs.

In the kitchen, I pulled out the leftover spaghetti I'd made from the previous night. I didn't even bother with a plate-I just plopped down on the sofa with the whole Tupperware.

I clicked through the channels, settling on a cooking show. They were demonstrating how to filet a fish, and seeing the animal being cut apart was soothing for some morbid reason.

When the demonstrator moved on to something that no longer required a knife, I called Finn again.

We'd talked some last night and he was coming back tomorrow anyway. It wasn't like I had any desperate need to talk to him now, but I wanted to. I wanted to hear something good after the depressing weekend and day I'd been having.

He answered on the third ring. "Hey," his boyish voice chimed, but it lacked its usual enthusiasm.

I smiled faintly. "Hey. I just called to see how things were with you."

"It's good. You?"

"Great." Okay, so maybe there was a little mockery there. I covered it quickly. "How'd you like the programs?"

A wistful sigh. "They're amazing, Clarke. They're too amazing. I can't pick one. It's like . . ." he struggled to find the right word. "Sophie's Choice."

I smirked. "Have you even seen that movie?"

"No," he admitted, "But I get the gist. Girl faced with an impossible decision." He paused. "I don't know how you girls live like that all the time. Every day is a woman's Sophie's Choice."

My brain couldn't delve up a snarky-enough remark at that. "Ha-ha," I drolled flatly. "That's hilarious."

Finn's soft laugh echoed through the speaker. "I'm kidding. You are shockingly decisive for your pair of chromosomes."

"Gee, thanks."

A beat of silence thrummed between us.

"Are you okay?" Finn asked. "You seem kind of . . . off."

Even though he wasn't able to see me, I nodded. "Yeah. Just, um . . . stressed, I guess. School and stuff."

I mentally cringed at how bad of a lie that sounded. Sure, school had its anxiety, but it wasn't school bothering me. It was, ironically, everything else.

Finn made a tsking sound and I could almost picture him shaking his head with a look of faux disapproval. "Well in exactly," he checked the clock, "twelve hours and twenty one minutes, I'll be traipsing through the halls of Arkadia High once again and we'll see to destressifying you."

"That's not a word."

"And yet it's fitting."

I smiled, my discontentment ebbing some. "Thank you, Finn."

I could practically hear his wink through the phone. "Any time, Princess."

And just like that, the discontentment was back. The nickname reverberated through my mind long after the beep of the ended call.

Princess.

It wasn't Finn who'd started it, but he'd planted the seed, occasionally doling out 'Highness's and 'Monarch's and the like to me whenever I received a higher grade than him.

Apparently some of the aforementioned students had caught it and before I knew it, the whole school had dictated one harmless little nickname to their own academic hierarchy. It went from an almost endearing epithet to something people either liked or despised about me. It lost that endearing factor and now, sounded more insulting than anything else.

And to have Finn remind me of that, didn't bode well for my already crappy day.

My plan was to get an early jump on the morning, maybe even cram in a little extra reading time, but that plan backfired. Big time. Instead of being on the top of my game as I expected-as I usually was-I arrived at class red-faced and five minutes late.

A few snickers sounded from around the room but I ignored them. After two years of it, you kind of had to learn to.

Class went slow today, mostly because I kept glancing at the clock. When it finally stopped its insufferable teasing and the bell ricocheted down the halls, I made my way out of the room about as quickly as I'd entered.

Someone was waiting for me outside the door and my heart swelled when they landed on a familiar face, his jaw-length hair tucked behind one ear. He wore his usual plaid shirt and tired jeans, leaning against the wall with his thumbs tucked in his pockets.

Finn smiled broadly at me and I didn't waste any time closing the distance.

"Hey, Stranger," he said as he swept me into an embrace, arms locking around me. I returned it, smiling into his shoulder. He smelled of plane, but I didn't care.

I pulled back first, tilting my chin up to see into his copper-brown eyes. "How was your flight?"

His finger rubbed concentric circles on my lower back. "Oh, fantastic. The peanuts really made it worthwhile."

I chuckled. "You already missed first period. Why didn't you just take the whole day off?"

The corner of his lips turned up in that lopsided grin I always liked. "And miss the hallway reunion with my girlfriend?"

"But I've only got a minute before I gotta go."

"Then, we'll make it count."

His hand snaked up through my hair as he lowered his face to mine. Our lips touched and I wrapped my arms around his neck, ignoring the world around me. I loved Finn. Maybe not in the fireworks-exploding, judgement-inhibiting kind of way, but it was an honest love. A comfortable love. We'd been friends even before we'd started dating. He was the person who made me feel safe. He was, simply put, a part of me.

After last period ended, someone was waiting for me in the hall. For a second, I expected it to be Finn again, but it wasn't.

It was Octavia.

I was immediately relieved that Bellamy was nowhere to be seen and the smile I gave her was genuine. I shoved away my prickle of annoyance at being delayed further as I fell into step beside her. "What's up?"

Octavia's lips pressed into a thin line, our footsteps lost in the cacophony of the others. She moved in front of me, cutting me off. "I need to ask you something. You'll probably think it's weird and a little random, but . . . "

The anxiety in her voice made me suddenly apprehensive. "What is it?"

Octavia made a sound of exasperation. "The family I'm staying with . . . well, I really need it to go well with them and though they haven't exactly said anything to me, I know they're worried I'll be that outcast in school that doesn't have any friends. Or the only friends I'll be capable of making will be the junkies or the tatted up weirdos. I need them to think I'm doing well here and I was hoping you'd . . ." she shrugged. "Come over sometime. For dinner or something. Just so they could see you; know I'm not in with the wrong crowd."

I blanched as her blue eyes flooded with hopefulness. I didn't know what I'd expected her to say, but not this. I felt both flattered and . . . not. It was nice to have your help wanted, but she was asking for the Princess's help; to showcase my reputation here. She wasn't asking for my help.

But looking down at her, at a young girl who'd gone through more hardship than fourteen years called for, it was impossible to decline.

"Sure," I said, plastering a smile to my face. "I'd be happy to."

She grinned and even made a pumping action with her fist. "Great! How's Friday night sound? Eight-ish?"

I nodded slowly, maintaining that smile. "Sounds fine. I'll need your address, and your number, in case I get lost." I might've been good when it came to formulas and essays, but following directions was my Achilles Heel.

Octavia grinned and asked for my phone. I handed it over and she inputted the information. She returned it to me. "I really appreciate this," she said. I gave her a last nod as she hurried off, with an energy about her that reminded me of Thalia.

Something prickled the back of my neck and I cast a cursory glance over my shoulder. There, down the hallway stood Bellamy, tall and daunting with a look of disdain on his features. He was looking at me, studying me. Warning me. He didn't say anything but he didn't need to; the message was clear:

Stay away from my sister.

Then he turned into the current of students and let it sweep him away, leaving me with a cold feeling in my chest and the heat of his glare still lingering on my face.