"So my money's on Jaha this year," Finn commented as they found their seats at the top of the bleachers. The two teams were warming up on the ice below and Kane's warm voice was kindly directing spectators to try out the snack bar and silent auction in the lobby.
Clarke's lips twisted in a wry grin, "I think you mean your money's on Reyes. She's the one who's going to do the real damage."
Finn huffed next to her, eyes rolling to the rafters. "Yes, Raven was included in that statement. West side has no hope this year, especially with Blake opting for East."
"What do you mean?" Clarke's brows drew together as she stared down at Bellamy nimbly skating through warm up drills.
"Have you been living under a rock? No, don't answer that. I already know you have. Anyway, Wells and I were talking about Blake the other day and Wells mentioned that he used to be the star of the league back when he was in middle school. And then I thought about it and realized I totally remember him. He was the top scorer for the rec league team and they wanted him to join the travel team too, but I guess he didn't. I think Wells was even a little star struck back then. I mean, Blake is like four years older than us, so he was kicking ass while we were still learning to stand up on skates," Finn concluded.
Clarke stared at him, trying to process the information she'd just received. She'd known Wells remembered Bellamy, but she'd had no idea that he had been a hockey star, if only on the rec teams. "Do you know why he didn't keep playing?"
Finn raised an incredulous brow. "You seriously can't figure that out?"
She thought for a moment, "Money?"
"Yeah," he confirmed. "I know hockey's cheaper than figure skating, but those travel teams are damn expensive and there was no way he could make the high school team, even at West, without playing travel for a year."
"No wonder he hated me when we first met," she murmured, the accusation of his stare floating through her memory.
"No offence, Clarke, but you're rather easy to hate. Your parents bought a freaking ice rink for you, you've never been to actual school in over a decade and you exist pretty much outside the real world. If I didn't know you so well, I'm pretty sure I'd hate you too." He said the words with a mollifying smile, but it didn't help much.
Clarke sighed and crossed her arms, eyes locked on the scoreboard. "It isn't exactly like I asked for any of that. All I wanted to do was skate. My parents are the ones who turned it into some Olympic training exercise."
Finn was silent for a long moment. Finally he asked, voice soft, "You're not doing so well these days, are you?"
She knew he wasn't talking about the popped jumps or the shaky spins that had headlined her latest run-throughs. Bellamy's voice echoed in her ears. Did she even want to go to Nationals? Clarke was almost entirely sure that the answer to that question was a horrifying no, but she wasn't ready to say that aloud, especially not to Finn. "It's been rough. I don't think I'm dealing with the pressure very well."
"Join the club," Finn murmured. "There's a reason I tested up to Senior, and it wasn't just because I didn't want to be an ice dancer or a pairs skater. I was tired of competing and having people expect so much. I just wanted to skate for me and at least at Senior most of the guys are just fighting to be at Nationals and all the superstars already have a bye, so we don't have to compete against them. It's much more enjoyable, you should try it next year."
If she was still competing and managed to survive sectionals, maybe she would. Testing up to Senior, at least amongst the slightly competitive, was the equivalent of admitting defeat. No more dreams of international competitions and only a very slight chance of making it to Nationals. Indeed, the difficulty of the jumping passes of everyone in Junior surpassed that of most Senior women at regionals and sectionals. Clarke supposed it was a bit like putting yourself out to pasture.
"Welcome to the 10th annual Charity Thanksgiving Tournament!" Thelonious Jaha's booming voice washed over them, effectively silencing any more debate over her skating career prospects. "We are so excited to offer up all of the proceeds from this game to the Community Food Works, which will be donating more than 1,000 Thanksgiving meals to local families in need."
Jaha passed the microphone of to Kane. "We are happy to introduce the team captains. For West Arkadia we have Ilian Trishana!" The left side of the bleachers went wild, a chant of Ilian echoing off the walls. Clarke had never heard of him, but she didn't have her nose the ground when it came to hockey, especially from West Arkadia, which usually practiced at an outdoor rink across town.
When the chants finally died off Kane began again. "And now for East Arkadia, the team has voted to have two co-capatains, so I present to you Wells Jaha and Bellamy Blake!"
Clarke gaped at Wells and Bellamy skating to center ice. "Did you know about this?"
Finn shook his head, his brows lifted. "Raven forgot to mention this part. Then again I wasn't exactly listening to her at the diner last night. All she could talk about was hockey and I can only take so much of that."
"Hum," she murmured in agreement. She loved Raven, but her love of the stick and puck would never match her friend's.
Fifteen minutes later the first period was over and the score wasn't notable. Both teams had scored early, but after that it'd been a defensive battle that had Clarke gripping the bleachers with white knuckles. Bellamy had scored the lone goal for East and Ilian the goal for West. Raven was kicking ass and taking names, but the teams were evenly matched and the Grounders weren't about to go down without a fight. No actual fights had broken out yet, but the speed of the checks into the boards had Clarke sucking in her breath and praying for no broken bones.
The second period continued in much the same vein. Raven and one of the West players were the first to throw off gloves, leading to the penalty box for both. Wells and Bellamy continued to play as clean as they could with the West players aiming for blood. The tension in the stands had grown as the score remained stagnant. Usually a few scuffles in the parking lot was the worst that the game produced, but it was clear the left bleachers were a powder keg waiting to go off.
By the beginning of the third and final period, Clarke and Finn were on their feet as much to flee as to cheer. A particularly rowdy West teen had been thrown out by a severe looking Jaha, but the blood was still hot and Clarke wasn't sure how they were going to get out of this one unscathed. With four minutes left in the game Bellamy connected with Raven and her slap shot tore past the Gounders' goalie. East was finally winning and while Clarke could breath again, but the crowd's restlessness only grew. The final minutes stretched out like eons as Clarke waited, fingers twisting in front of her. With thirty seconds left, the Grounders captain gave up on any pretense of fair play. Ilian gathered as much speed as possible as he drew alongside Bellamy and then, suddenly, Bellamy was smashing against the boards, helmet skidding across the ice. Even from her vantage point, she could see the trickle of blood painting his face as he collapsed to the ice.
Clarke was opening the rink door before she even knew she'd moved from her perch atop the bleachers. She threw Ilian what she hoped was her most vicious ice princess stare as she slid to her knees beside Bellamy.
He squinted up at her, blood still running freely down his angled cheek. "Clarke?"
She swallowed, pushing back the wave of embarrassment. "Uh, yeah. How does your head feel?"
"Like I cracked it open on the boards."
HIs deadpan response brought a small smile to her lips. She held up three fingers. "How many?"
"Three," he groaned as he hauled himself into a sitting position, leaning heavily against the boards. "I'm fine, Clarke. Nothing a little ice can't fix."
"You're sure?"
Bellamy's response was cut off by a harrowing screech followed by the sound of a helmet crashing into the boards. Clarke swung away from Bellamy to find Octavia tackling Ilian. Her dark hair flew wildly about her as she drove her first into his nose, spilling crimson onto the ice. As she drew her fist back again, Clarke caught her expression. Her eyes gleamed primal rage and her lips were twisted in a perverted imitation of a smile.
Bellamy shot up to his feet, skates digging into the ice as threw his arms around her and pulled her away, her fists still hammering into the air. Octavia's face was splattered with blood and her eyes still burned with rage as Bellamy pinned her arms down and led her back toward Clarke, his dark eyes turbulent as he met Clarke's shocked stare.
Clarke took a steadying breath as Bellamy pressed Octavia to the boards beside her. She'd known her friend and sometimes student had been suspended for fighting, but she'd never imagined the viciousness with which Octavia attacked. Clarke was not a violent person by nature and just the impact of Bellamy against the board had been enough to send her heart into her throat. Watching Octavia attack Ilian had sent her guts tangling into an entirely different contortion. She couldn't meet the brunette's charged gaze, so she looked up at Bellamy instead, eyes pleading.
He wiped the blood from his face with one hand as he turned to his sister. His eyes were dark, full of a danger that sent Clarke's pulse racing. "O, you with me?" Octavia's fists clenched, but she nodded sharply. "Good. I need you to go with Clarke. Right now. We'll sort this out later."
Clarke's breath caught in her throat, panic rising in her chest. Bellamy turned toward her, the tension easing from his features. "You got this. Just get her out of here and I'll be there in a second. Take Collins with you if you want."
She nodded mutely, grasping Octavia's bloody arm as she led her toward the nearest door. Finn was hovering by the exit and she was eternally grateful when he extended a hand to clasp Octavia's shoulder and led them both out through the hushed whispers of the lobby and into the crisp night air.
Octavia pulled away as soon as the door clanged shut behind them. She ran a hand through her hair, steaks of blood smearing across the dark locks. "Fuck."
The word was soft, barely audible in the quiet night. Finn retreated to the doors, cocking his head at Clarke. She studied Octavia's small form, unable to reconcile it with the howling monster from the rink. Finally, she nodded at Finn. He slipped back inside, leaving them alone.
"I'm sorry," Octavia voice was still soft, but filled with such weary pain that Clarke couldn't help the step she took toward her. "I know that wasn't okay, but I saw him go down and he's the only thing I have left, Clarke. He's all I have."
"I know," Clarke murmured, stepping close enough to feel Octavia's heat.
"I'm sorry if I scared you," the brunette continued. "It's just that whenever I get scared this thing just rises up in me. I feel like I can't stop it, like it's just who I am."
Clarke didn't know what to say. Octavia had scared the shit out of her and she couldn't exactly downplay the incident. "I don't…"
"It's okay," Octavia continued, wiping at the tears that had begun to mingle with splattered blood. "I know it's not… it's not something that's okay or good. I'm sorry, Clarke. I didn't want you to see me like that… or this."
Bellamy was through the doors before Clarke could think of a reply. He'd taken his skates off, but the rest of his gear remained. The blood had clotted at his temple, but he looked as distraught as Clarke had ever seen him.
"What were you thinking, O?" The danger was back, seeping from his every pore.
"You went down…" Octavia couldn't finish, the flashing eyes of her brother clearly making her think twice.
"So you decided you'd throw yourself into the fray? O, you are all I've got. I can't have you throwing a punch at the first sign of trouble. You can't do this. You can't keep lashing out whenever something you don't like happens!" The veins throbbed at his temple as his deep voice echoed through the parking lot.
"I know that!" she exploded back as Clarke stepped away from the siblings. "How do you think I felt when you were bleeding on the ice!"
"I've played hockey for years, you never had this problem before!"
"Of course not," she snarled, "But mom wasn't dead then either!"
Bellamy recoiled, as if hit. Clarke stepped forward, her hand grasping his arm before she could think better of it. His wild eyes flew to meet hers. "Clarke," he choked. "God, I'm so sorry Clarke. You should go inside."
She stared back at him, taking in the pained set of his jaw, the disaster behind his eyes. Breath short, she nodded and retreated back to the lobby, the image of him seared into her memory.
Finn held out a hand and she took it gratefully as they moved through the rows of silent auction items. "They called the game, so I guess technically East won, but it's not like either side is celebrating."
Clarke glanced back at the arguing figures in the parking lot. "It must be horrible, having your personal business dragged up in public like that."
Finn nodded. "Yeah. Let's find Raven and make sure she's alright."
"Good idea," Clarke murmured as she let Finn lead her into the swirling crowd. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't get Bellamy's wreaked expression out of her mind.
"You okay?"
Bellamy turned to eye Murphy with suspicion. Since when had John Murphy, Mr. Me and Only Me, ever given a shit about how he felt? Murphy rolled his eyes. "Come on, everyone saw the way your little sister flew off the fucking rails…"
"Yeah," Bellamy growled, stepping into Murphy. "My little sister."
Murphy's eyes flew skyward again. "Jeez, Blake, take a chill pill already. I was just asking if you two are all right. No harm meant."
Bellamy had his doubts about that, but he nodded and turned away. There was no point in letting Murphy rile him up. In any case, he was right, the entire town, or at least the parts of it with any power or influence, had seen his sister attempt to beat the West Arkadia Grounders captain senseless.
Ilian had only suffered a broken nose and a split lip, but the impact had been deeper than that. The school had called on Saturday morning indicating Octavia was to be put on disciplinary probation. One more documented incident inside or outside school and she was expelled. He had no idea what the hell they were doing working on a Saturday, but he couldn't say he was surprised.
Thankfully, Ilian hadn't pressed charges; if anything, the boy's expression had been one of curiosity as the police interrogated him. Bellamy hadn't had a clue what to make of that and he hadn't had the energy to contemplate it. By some miracle Kane and Jaha allowed Octavia to keep her snack bar job, but Kane's expression had been severe when he warned them there would be no more second chances.
Octavia had been morose ever since they'd dragged into their apartment late Friday night after police interrogations. She'd slept through most of Saturday, only emerging to grab a bag of potato chips. Bellamy was sure he should talk to her, but he had no idea what to say. They hadn't settled anything in the parking lot and now he just had heaps of words he wished he could take back. He loved her so damn much, but sometimes he just couldn't find the way to let her know. So instead of talking or being a mature grown man, he'd left Sunday morning to hide at the rink. His shift didn't start for another hour, but he just couldn't imagine sitting in the apartment staring at O's door any longer. How was it that he always messed up when it came to her, the only thing that truly mattered? He groaned and pulled a frustrated hand through his unruly curls. What was he even doing here?
The strains of Swan Lake, he couldn't believe he actually recognized that now, began to stream from the west rink. He moved on instinct, barely realizing where his feet were carrying him, until he was in a hockey box. Then his eyes were on her, captivated and beyond his control.
She was alone on the ice, only her dark silhouette whizzing across the brilliant white. Her blonde locks were pulled into a bun at the back of her neck that bounced at each dip and turn. His pulse hammered his veins as she flew past, Venus incarnate. Each vault into the air, each arch of her back stole his breath away.
He could hardly believe there had been a time when he hadn't known the magic she wove with her blades. She was doing things to him that he couldn't understand, that he didn't want. He needed to be there for Octavia, he needed to keep their lives together, but one look at her flying through the air and he couldn't remember his own name. He hated what she did to him, but he craved her, desired her with an urgency that unsettled him.
The music reverberated into silence and he realized she was staring back at him, eyes wide and chest heaving.
"Bellamy?"
He should go, go back home and pull Octavia out of her room and find a way to move forward. But he didn't move. She skated over to him, her blades a sharp hiss in the charged silence.
Her expression was tight. "What are you doing here?"
Bellamy couldn't exactly tell her he was hiding from Octavia. "I… I uh… I don't know. I just heard the music."
Clarke's eyes narrowed. "Your shift doesn't start 'til nine."
"You know my schedule?" The teasing grin he sent her way didn't quite reach his eyes, but at least he was back on familiar ground.
She huffed and slid her eyes toward him. "Not everything is about you… but yeah, I know your schedule. That way I know how to avoid Murphy."
Bellamy couldn't help the snort that escaped him. He couldn't exactly fault her there. "If only I had such a luxury."
"Make sure you get Miller to train you to be the next Zam driver. It may be your only escape from him."
"I'm pretty sure Murphy has his heart set on that job," Bellamy noted.
Clarke shrugged. "Well, he should prepare for serious disappointment. I'm a thousand percent sure that Kane is never going to let him anywhere near a large moving vehicle, let alone a Zamboni."
"I suppose that would probably be the safer route," he chuckled, feeling grounded for the first time since the disastrous game.
Clarke sighed and leaned against the board, her eyes glazing over as she stared across ice. "Maybe I can trade places with Murphy."
"I'm pretty sure he's not qualified to compete at your level." A frown pulled at his lips as his eyes traced the tension in her jaw. "When do you compete?"
Her teeth worried her full lips, driving his thoughts in distracting directions. He tried to focus on her eyes and the tumult hidden behind them.
"I have Short Program Tuesday morning and then Freeskate on Wednesday afternoon. I'll be back to skate in the holiday show next weekend." She sounded like she was reciting facts from a book, her voice monotonous and dull.
Bellamy shifted until he was leaning against the boards beside her. He could feel the heat of her burning into him, but he kept his breath steady and his mind focused. "You don't want to do any of this, do you?"
Clarke's head tilted until he could see the moisture gathering in her eyes. "I don't have a choice. I'm letting everyone down if I don't and I think I owe it to myself to just try."
"You're a beautiful skater, Clarke. Whatever you do, you should be proud of yourself." He didn't know what else to say. Articulating what she did to him, especially on the ice was impossible, so he just set a hand on her turtleneck clad shoulder. She didn't move away and he didn't dare do anything but breath.
They stayed like that a long moment before she finally turned to face him, his hand slipping down to rest upon her arm. "Thank you. I think I can do this, sectionals at least, and when I get back, I'll talk to my dad about… about whatever it is I actually want."
"Not your mom?" He could feel her tense beneath his soft grip.
"No." She shook her head swiftly. "She won't understand putting this much effort into skating and then turning my back on competition. She's always been the one with dreams of international competition. I think my dad's just glad I found something to keep me busy and away from boys."
A flush spread down her neck as she realized what she'd said. He smothered the smile that threatened burst through. He watched her closely as he trailed his hand further down her arm, noting the catch in her breath as his fingers skimmed the back of her bare hand.
Clarke abruptly broke away from him. "I should keep practicing."
He nodded, reality flooding back around him. "Yeah. Good luck at sectionals. I'm sure you'll be fine." He paused, "And Clarke? Thank you for what you did on Friday. I really appreciate it."
She nodded, tension easing from her frame. "No worries. I'm happy to help."
"Thank you all the same."
"Be well, Bellamy Blake," she murmured, eyes locked with his for an infinite moment.
He inclined his head and then she was gone again, a blur of possibility against the frozen surface. Bellamy inhaled deeply, centering himself and wiping her from his mind. He had a job to do and a sister to hold together. He didn't have time for Clarke Griffin and the way she tangled him into unrecognizable knots.