Okay, I'm sorry about the whole Clarke x Finn thing, but I'm tired of the poor bloke being the abusive/aggressive/stalkerish creep he's made out to be in so many fanfictions. But I have a reason for it all. I'm apparently unable to make a story without a theme in it. Or foreshadowing. Foreshadowing is my friend. I love it. Anyway, here's the next chapter.

I didn't want to go to school when Monday rolled around, content with staying in my living room, watching reruns of old sitcoms as I studied the principles of neuro science and flipped through my Mom's journals she'd kept during her internship. It helped lessen the emptiness of the house.

It helped me forget the disaster that was dinner and was overall a relaxing weekend, but then came Sunday. And Sunday had no choice but to turn into Monday.

I didn't know what I expected to happen, ignoring the irrational trepidation I felt at the thought of seeing Bellamy. Or Octavia. They were connected in that special familial way that I hadn't felt myself since. . . since last year. And I knew you couldn't interact with one side without interacting with the other.

Either way, I resolved to act like nothing happened and went to first period like any other day. I did everything like any other day, trying not to be conscious of any brunette walking my way.

Except for Finn, who appeared behind me at lunch. He kissed the crown of my head. "Hey, Beautiful," he said, plopping down in the seat beside me with a tray laden in an assortment of unhealthy foods. Burger, chips, pudding cup. A small carton of milk that made me suspicious.

I smirked down at his food. "Got enough sodium there?"

Finn grinned at me, tucking that disobedient lock of hair behind his ear. "Says the girl who participated in the annual Pie Eating Contest." He took a bite of the burger. "And won."

I ignored the jab. It was true, but I elected to ignore that small fact. "I see. And you felt five ounces of milk would help make it a balanced meal?"

As if to demonstrate, Finn took a sip of that, too. "Yeah. If by healthy, you mean Cherry Coke."

I shook my head at him, giving him a disapproving look. "You didn't."

He pushed the carton to me and I took a small sip, confirming that it, indeed, was not milk. "Unbelievable," I mumbled, struggling to maintain my look of disapproval. It was hard though. Especially since this wasn't the only time he'd smuggled in soda. It was something he'd do in middle school from time to time. A few kids would even buy it off him.

I sighed. "It's better than beer," I proffered, my mind flashing back to my party experience.

He pointed at me. "Or drugs. See? I'm a healthy guy, Griffin. Both morally and physically."

I scoffed. "Mentally, you could use some work."

He wrapped his arm around my shoulder and I snuggled into his side. "Which is why I have you. My little voice of reason."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, right."

"My . . . Northern Star, then?"

"No."

"Burt to my Ernie?"

"Stop it."

He chuckled, taking back his carton. "That reminds me," he added. "You. Me. Date this weekend."

I looked up at him. "Where to?"

He tapped me on the nose with his pinkie. "It's a surprise."

I smiled and just as he was about to kiss me Thalia came over, sitting in the seat opposing ours.

She exchanged a speculative look between us, her braided hair piled high on her head. "I don't know whether I aspire to have your guys' kind of relationship or am a little turned off by it all." She waved her hands. "It's all too sweet and fluffy and sugary. You're like a sundae."

I raised an eyebrow at her. "We remind you of a sundae?"

Finn tossed up his hands, crossing his legs over the chair closest to him. "Fine, but I get to be the whipped cream. Griffin here is the cherry. The topper to all things amazing."

I wrinkled my nose, but I was smiling.

"And while that's great and all," Thalia continued, "I'm not sure if I want a sundae, you know? I mean, don't get me wrong," she said hurriedly, seeing our expressions. "Sundaes are great. But sundaes melt. And they lose their decadence to become this mushy stuff. I want . . ." She groped at empty air, like she was trying to pull out the word. "Something spicy. Something . . . fiery and long-lasting."

"What?" Finn asked. "Like a jalapeño?"

"Or gum?" I added.

Thalia shrugged. "Sort of. But personified."

Finn made a grab for his pudding cup, using my salad fork because he'd forgotten to bring a spoon. "This is a weird conversation. You're demoralizing some of my favorite foods with your innuendos. I don't like it."

Thalia let out an exasperated sigh, a sound caught between a growl and a wistful hum. "I don't know how else to explain it. I just . . . need electricity. There."

"Want us to go buy you an aluminum rod and wait until it rains?" I asked.

"Are you implying that Clarke and I have no electricity upon contact?" Finn interjected before Thalia could really appreciate my joke.

Thalia pursed her lips and scrunched her brows. She shook her head adamantly. "What? No. Well . . . " She paused. "Do you?"

I frowned, actually taking this into consideration. I'd heard the term 'electricity' before but I was never under the impression that it was any indication of "long-lasting" love. Or that everyone reacted to it identically. In fact, I simply saw it as lust.

I pulled my hair to one shoulder, taking my fork back from Finn, who was only half-finished with his pudding cup. "Electricity is just . . .the term," I explained. " It's not always felt in the same way. Each of our genetic makeup is different. It's unique to our individual"-

"Oh no," Thalia whined, cramming her fingers in her ears. "Here comes her inner Bill Nye."

I shot her a lukewarm glare. "Fine. I'll say it in your terms." I thought about it. "Okay, a firework for someone may just be a little . . . spark to someone else. Electricity to you could be a weak sizzle to me."

Finn brushed his shoulders against mine, giving me a wide grin. "You sizzle for me, Clarke?"

I slapped him on the shoulder. "Forget it. You were right; this conversation is getting weird."

We drifted to another topic then, all of us seemingly grateful for the chance. Every once in a while Finn would touch my hand and make a "tssss" sound, like something cooking on the stove, but we didn't mention it again.

Yet even after the subject was dropped I found myself wandering back to it. Electricity. That spark that turned all those girls from books and movies into idiots and heroines alike. What made Romeo kill himself and Sydney stand before the guillotine. But of course, the answer was always the same.

It was just how the author wrote it.

Octavia found me after school. I tried to mask my disappointment at her arrival, then chastised myself for being disappointed to begin with. It wasn't fair to blame Octavia for her ill-mannered counterpart.

She peeked over at me from under her lashes, almost shyly. "Sorry about the other night," she said, clutching her books tightly to her chest. "For not telling you Bellamy would be there. I honestly didn't know he would be until the day you were coming." She shrugged. "I didn't think it'd be much of a big deal. I mean, I know my brother hates people, but he seems to really hate you."

Bitterness lit inside me at that. "Why? We've barely had a conversation. He doesn't know enough about me to rightfully hate me."

Octavia nodded. "That's true. He doesn't. He's just . . . protective, I guess."

"I'd get that if I were a fifteen year old boy, but there's no reason to justify him despising me for . . ."I trailed off, looking for a reason I couldn't find.

You don't see people. You see poor people. Broken people.

Honestly, what did that even mean? I'd thought he'd hated me for my grades, but Mrs. Roffan had assured me he was an excellent student himself. So what else was it?

Octavia gave me a sympathetic look. "I don't know; it's weird."

I grimaced. "Maybe he's just pissed at the world."

"He usually is. He's got a lot to be pissed off for. To be honest, I don't think he likes me hanging out with you."

No, I thought a little dryly. Really?

Instead, I asked, "What makes you think that?"

She shrugged again. I was beginning to see it as a habitual thing for her. "Just a feeling. Can't imagine why, though. It's not like you're a bad influence on me: Honor Roll student, aspiring doctor. "

"Or maybe he just doesn't like sharing you," I said. It was the most logical explanation I could come up with, especially given their past.

"Maybe. Hey," she put a hand on my arm, stopping me. Her eyes suddenly turned somber. "I never told you sorry, about your dad."

I winced internally, hating the random mention. Every day.

I gave her the best smile I could manage, hoping the painful throb over my chest didn't bleed through and show her how those words made me feel. "Thanks."

"Also," she added, as we neared the hall where we'd part. "You wouldn't want to hang out with me again? No parents or Bell involved. Just girl time."

"Like what?"

She puckered her lips in thought. "We could just study or something. I need to get out of the house, even if it is just into someone else's."

I suddenly felt apprehensive. "Do you really think that's a good idea?" I asked, leveling my words carefully. "Won't that . . . upset Bellamy?" I didn't feel like making things worse with him right now, particularly since I still had to share a school with him until graduation.

Octavia smiled and this time, it was tinged with malice. "Oh, Clarke. What Bell doesn't know can't hurt him."