Clarke 6:15am

I don't need a ride today.

Wells glanced at the message quickly while he brushed his teeth. He slowed his motions and felt a twinge of guilt. On Saturday he woke up to a missed call from Clarke late the night before, and knew she probably needed a ride.

Wells had a crush on Clarke since they were 13. One day she was his best friend and video game partner, and the next she had turned into a girl. A really cool girl.

As they got older, Clarke always found someone to distract her and came crying to Wells when the boy (or girl, in Lexa's case) disappointed her. Wells considered vocalizing his feelings, but it became clear Clarke never pictured them as anything more than friends; why tell her and make things weird when she inevitably rejected him? At least this way he had her friendship and company.

But it did get exhausting-watching Clarke flit from person to person and waiting up night after night to see if she needed him. And this weekend, when Clarke went to another party with Finn, Wells decided to fall asleep listening to music and silenced his ringer.

Yes

Wells 9:33am

Hey sorry I didn't get your call. I passed out early last night. What's up?

Wells 4:52pm

Haven't heard back… you ok?

Wells 8:59pm

Wanna go to a movie or hang tonight?

Wells 11:21pm

…

Clearly he was getting the silent treatment. And now, apparently she found alternative transportation to school. Wells drove Clarke to school every day since he got his license the year before.

He finished brushing his teeth and grimly threw his backpack over his shoulders. Today was going to suck.

Clarke sent Wells the text she wouldn't be riding with him and shoved the phone in her pocket to remove temptation from her thumbs.

After Clarke spent the night Friday at Bellamy's, the next morning the pair made fun of Octavia's hangover and cooked stacks of pancakes to eat for a late breakfast. Octavia retreated to her dark room while Bellamy and Clarke hung out in the living room laughing and talking; conversation between the two was easy. When Bellamy had to go to work, he dropped Clarke back home.

The house was empty. Again.

She texted her mom that morning to let her know she was safe and ended up crashing at a girlfriend's house for the night. Abby sent back a smiley face and said "hope you had fun!" Their lives were entirely disconnected from one another. Thinking of Abby made Clarke note that Bellamy's mom hadn't appeared last night or this morning either. She wondered if it was common place for the Blakes to live days on end with no check in from their mom. Her and Bellamy had more in common than she originally thought.

Which is why when Bellamy asked if she wanted a ride to school Monday, she agreed. If Wells wanted to be in his feelings about the casting, she would let him. Clarke had taken too much bullshit from people lately to indulge him.

Clarke heard a beep and pulled herself out of her thoughts to look outside. Bellamy's old truck was in the driveway and she raced downstairs.

"Bye, mom!" She called.

Abby was next to the front door, looking impeccable and intimidating. Her black power suit was offset by a red shirt and her long dirty blond hair was twisted into a tight bun. "We're out at the same time today. That's not Wells' car, is it?" She glanced out the door and frowned.

"No," Clarke admitted, bending down to pull on her Converse. "It's Bellamy. He's playing the Danny to my Sandy in the play."

Abby smiled knowingly, "Are you interested?"

"He's a friend." Clarke said, refusing to give into Abby's attempt at gossip or bonding.

"Well, have a good day at school." Abby reached out and clutched Clarke's wrist; the closest they could get to a hug.

"Yup," Clarke said and rushed out of the door.

Clarke expected to sit behind the Blake siblings, but was surprised to see the passenger seat empty. Once she was closer, Clarke could see Octavia sullenly sitting in the small backseat.

"Morning," Bellamy said.

"Morning. Octavia you can sit in the front, if you want." Clarke offered.

Octavia glared at her older brother. "Bellamy said I can't."

"Seniors ride shotgun."

Clarke laughed as Octavia buried her face behind her phone screen.

"How are you today, princess?"

Clarke swallowed and her throat felt incredibly dry. "Well… it can't be worse than Friday."

"Good outlook," Bellamy nodded.

"It was all over Snapchat," Octavia added.

"Not helping, O."

She shrugged, "it was."

"The teenage attention span is short." Clarke grimaced. It was sweet of Bellamy to try and make her feel better (it actually made facing the day seem bearable), but she meant what it said. This was her mess, and she needed to clean it up.

They arrived to the school lot and Octavia took off without a goodbye.

"Is she mad?"

"Yeah, I laid into her about the drinking and the guy."

"Lincoln," Clarke supplied.

"Right. She's not happy with me." Bellamy easily slipped his arm around Clarke's shoulders and she didn't question it. He felt nice and secure, her small frame slipping under his lanky one.

The pair managed to walk to the school's front gate before Clarke froze. Of course, she knew the world didn't revolve around her, but Arcadia was a small town. The news of Clarke and Finn (and Bellamy by extension) must have reached every corner of the campus.

"We can always drive away instead," he whispered, bending over toward her ear.

"You'll get expelled!"

Bellamy shrugged. "If Finn snitches I'll be expelled anyway."

Clarke considered that. "Don't worry. He won't; I'll make sure of it."

Bellamy looked at her with a disapproving grin. "Don't talk to the asshole for my benefit."

"I've got it," Clarke dismissed.

Bellamy cocked his head, "whatever you say. Shall we?"

Clarke nodded and braced herself for the school's reactions. Bellamy and her had three out of six class periods together, something she rarely noticed prior to the play because he was always ditching. However, today she was incredibly thankful for this fact, because in each class he sat dutifully next to her and dared anyone to throw a comment their way.

His slightly too long hair covered his thick eyebrows and he was donning the traditional black shirt and grey jeans with his maroon Vans. Not to mention his knuckles were still obviously red and swollen. The whole look was dark and oozed an air of "fuck off" that Clarke benefitted from.

No one said anything to her directly, but everywhere she went there were whispers in her wake. The hushed tones of people trying to discretely gossip about someone in their presence. She was a social pariah, a scarlet letter and more of an outcast than usual. The last time she was the center of gossip was when her and Lexa's relationship became public. People had debated, behind her back, about her sexuality and how it all worked.

By sixth period, Clarke was happy to be in her art class. Bellamy was sitting next to her; this had been the class he skipped the most over the year and she was still getting accustomed to his presence.

Today they were drawing still life, a table full of aged knick-knacks sat in the center of the room. Clarke focused on the old chess pieces; her and her dad used to play chess all the time. She still brought a board whenever she went to visit him in jail and she set it up on her side of the glass. He would use a phone to tell her his moves. It was easy to lose herself in the lines and small segments of a whole image; she drew until the memories were all gone and there were only slashes and shadows.

"Fuck," Bellamy whispered in her ear halfway through the class.

Clarke jumped at the sudden noise. "What?"

"Can you suck at something? Please? I feel like shit around you."

Clarke rolled her eyes, but smiled as she put her charcoal back to paper. "I slept with someone else's boyfriend for eight months, does that count?"

Bellamy pretended to ponder this. "You bring up an interesting point-"

"Mr. Blake!" The art teacher barked. "Perhaps if you turned your attention to your own canvas you could complete your first assignment of the year."

"Yes, ma'am." Bellamy answered, but grinned at Clarke. For someone who was in anger management classes and beat the snot out of multiple classmates, Bellamy was never disrespectful to authority figures. He never had been a class disruption or bickered with a teacher. Bellamy hated stupid teenage boys, and Clarke didn't blame him.

As the pair walked from the art wing to the theater, Clarke saw her least favorite stupid boy marching to the student lot. "Be right back," she said to Bellamy. He followed her eyes and saw her path to Finn.

"Clarke, it's not worth it. If he didn't say anything today, he'll keep his mouth shut. I'm in the clear."

"This is for me," Clarke said and Bellamy nodded.

"I'm waiting against the wall in case you need me to punch him again."

"On school grounds? I think I'm good, Mike Tyson. I'll meet you inside."

Bellamy looked incredibly reluctant and leaned against the theater door frame. Clarke decided to let him have his way and walked toward Finn's retreating form. It made sense Bellamy was so protective; he essentially was Octavia's guardian. He had been protecting himself and others his entire life.

"Finn!" Clarke called out. A few walking students sniggered and looked snidely at Clarke as she ran through the parking lot.

Finn stopped and slowly turned around. Clarke had to stop herself from gasping; the dark purple bruise on his left jaw was the size of a large chocolate chip cookie. Bellamy put an incredible amount of force behind the punch.

"Clarke," he noted. Finn's glance fell behind her shoulder. "Is he your new guy?" He nodded to Bellamy in the distance.

"Not that it would be any of your business, but no. He's my friend."

Finn chuckled, "I was your friend."

"Now you're not." Clarke said icily. The air hung awkwardly between them. "Look, I'm not here to yell at you. But I just wanted to say it was fucked up, what you did. And we were never exclusive, but I had no idea Raven never knew about us. And for you to string both of us along was wrong. I deserve better than that, and she deserves better than that."

"I know." Finn looked to the pavement.

"I don't want to talk to you again after today. I don't want to hear your name or look at you. And for all the shit you put me through, I deserve one favor."

Finn looked up and nodded, "okay."

"Don't rat out Bellamy for punching you."

"I wasn't going to," Finn said defensively.

"Then it's an easy favor and you should consider yourself lucky." Clarke hated it, but her and her mom both had an ability to voice their desires and persuade people to comply.

Finn laughed sardonically.

"What?" Clarke asked with an edge in her voice.

"Noting, just the way you two protect each other… I give it a month before you're together."

"We're done here," Clarke scoffed and walked away. She was proud of herself for walking straight ahead without looking back.

When she got close, Bellamy furrowed his eyebrows. "What did he say?"

"Nothing."

"You look upset."

"He just talked shit about me and you hanging out, it's whatever. I don't give a fuck what he says." Clarke said bitterly.

"Note to self, avoid your bad side," Bellamy smiled.

Clarke found herself staring at his crooked grin. "I think you're impervious."

They walked into practice and even though Wells left two spots open next to him in the front, Clarke pulled Bellamy's arm into a farther back row.

"Are you mad at Wells too?" Bellamy asked once they cast off their backpacks and sat in the faded red auditorium seats.

"I just can't deal with his pissed off mood today. He needs to get over you being Danny and you being my friend."

"I like 'Taking No Shit' Clarke," Bellamy said approvingly.

Clarke wanted to reply she liked every Bellamy, but Mrs. Greene started practice. She split the girls and boys up to work on their respective group numbers: Grease Lightening and Look at Me, I'm Sandra Dee. The girls worked in the green room, but Clarke made several excuses to walk through the auditorium and check on Bellamy, especially because she only came in for one line at the end of the number. He looked utterly lost in the beginning but when she looked again, he was confident and nailing the easy movements. Clarke had to admit… it was attractive.

At the end of practice each group performed for the other and Lexa nailed the Rizzo personality. Maybe mocking Clarke was an easy motivation for her. Bellamy did a perfect Danny and for the first time the excitement of the show clicked for Clarke. Yes, she was happy when she was cast, but Wells and Finn had thrown a shadow over the past week. Now, she was more present in practice and focused on her role.

"Well done!" Mrs. Greene clapped at the end of the boy's number. "I'm so proud of all of you, see you tomorrow!"

While the group was collecting their things, Wells grabbed his bag and moved up to Clarke and Bellamy. "Can I drive you home, Clarke?" Wells asked in an abrupt tone. Clarke turned around and he recognized her face. She had the same face after Lexa shouted at her in the cafeteria after their breakup last year; this was Clarke's "I don't give a fuck" face.

"I do have to go to Dropship," Bellamy added, looking tentatively between the two.

"Fine," Clarke said, sounding less than enthused.

"See you tomorrow, princess." Bellamy said, throwing a wink her way before leaving the auditorium.

Normally Wells would have mocked Bellamy's nickname or asked its origin, but he knew better today. They walked in total silence to Wells' Honda civic.

Before they got in, Wells turned to Clarke. "Hey, I've been a bad friend for the last week and I'm sorry." Clarke's face instantly lightened. "I was upset Bellamy got the role, and I took it out on you. And this weekend I really did go to sleep early Friday night, and you never got back to me. I heard what happened today…" he trailed off, looking uncomfortable.

"It sucked." Clarke said flatly.

"Yeah, it sounds like it. I'm sorry I wasn't there-"

"It's okay. Bellamy was." Clarke pointed out, and the brief look of agony on Wells' face instantly made her regret her bluntness. All the rumors of Wells having feelings for her swirled around her head like flies…

"I'm glad," he managed eventually. He looked stressed over his next comment. "Do you think, that he… is trying to… you know…"

"Fuck me?" Clarke said again, watching Wells look uncomfortable. Clarke thought back to two am this Friday when she gave him the option of sleeping in bed with her. She loved the way the dim kitchen light illuminated half of his face, catching the whites of his eyes and teeth. "No. He's not. But even if he was, he's a good guy. He's not Finn."

"I don't know him," Wells said neutrally.

"You don't. You can."

Wells nodded. "I will. I'm over it, I promise."

"Good," Clarke agreed and finally opened the door to the car. Her life felt more in sync than it had 24 hours prior: Wells and her were friends, Finn was excommunicated, and Bellamy… well. Clarke pictured him on stage, singing with the other men ducked around him. Bellamy was in her life, and that felt pretty damn good too.