Chapter Two: Not Quite A Crushing Defeat
Even though Jasper knew he hadn't mentioned anything about his schedule, he was still unsurprised when he and Monty found Clarke waiting for them outside of their classroom after sixth period. She had an uncanny ability of finding things out if she put her mind to it.
It almost unnerved him that she had cared about his schedule enough to find out what his last period was. He hoped that she wasn't going to start meddling in his personal affairs now that she didn't have a boyfriend to occupy her time; that would put a strain on his efforts at wooing Octavia.
"Clarke." Jasper swung his bag as he and Monty met up with her on the side of the hall. "What's up?"
Her expression was tense, like she had witnessed the brutal murder of a baby bird or something. "Nothing."
"You sure?" Jasper frowned. "You look like you just saw a ghost." Clarke's eyes dimmed a shade darker and it clicked. "You saw Wells didn't you?"
She huffed in exasperation, an annoyed smile taking over her face. "Not only did I see him, but I couldn't not see him! It's like he rigged our classes so that we'd be stuck together!"
"That many classes, huh?" Monty looked to Clarke and she nodded limply.
Seeing Clarke look so miserable was something that Jasper wasn't used to, and quite frankly, he hoped that he would never have too. In all of the years that they had known each other, Clarke had always been pretty level-headed in situations that would have made Jasper lose his cool.
The time he accidentally lost his snake in the house? Clarke was calm and collected, putting a plan together on how to find the reptile before their parents got home.
The time Jasper nearly crashed them into a lamp post when she was teaching him how to drive? She held his hand until his heart stopped racing and told him that they were fine. She told him that he was going to get the hang of it soon.
It was hard to picture a time when Clarke was fizzed out because it was just a part of her nature to be the person to put the pieces back together when things got messy. That's why Jasper felt his heart cringe every time he caught Clarke's broken gaze. The entire situation with Wells getting her dad fired and then moving across the country had taken a large toll on his stepsister, and Jasper hated it.
He hated seeing her so out of control of her own emotions, so helpless. He hated it even more that there wasn't anything he could do to help her. All she wanted was her dad back, and unfortunately, that was out of Jasper's power.
"We were thinking of hitting the Wendy's to chow down before the game," Monty was chatting away to Clarke, and Jasper had to ask himself if he had always missed the look of admiration in his best friend's eyes every time he spoke to Clarke.
Regardless of Monty's bubbly attitude, Clarke continued with her sullen expression. "Yeah. That sounds good."
The disinterest in her tone made Jasper feel a bit guilty. He knew she had almost zero interest in sports, and yet she made an effort to attend most of his games. "You don't have to come if you don't want to, Clarke. I know sports aren't really your thing."
Clarke whipped her head in Jasper's direction. "Of course I want to come." Her tone was a bit harsh, obviously offended, but for the first time since the last moving truck left for San Diego, Jasper saw a trace of fire in Clarke's eyes.
And if her being slightly mad at him was what helped return that fire, Jasper was willing to take one for the team.
The three weaved their way down to the main doors of the school. A rush of crisp, warm air greeted them as soon as they stepped outside, mixing with the noxious fumes of exhaust blossoming from the parking lot as students tried to get as far away from the school as humanly possible.
The parking lot was a mess, cars interlocked with one another. Judging by the sour look on Clarke's face, he could tell the fifteen minutes that they were going to spend trying to get off school grounds were going to be edgy.
Clarke hated traffic and ever since the move, her bottled up road-rage had started to become more apparent.
Jasper was about to suggest that it wasn't as bad as it seemed when someone cheekily called, "Jasper!" followed by a soft punch to the shoulder. He met Octavia's gaze head on before shying away.
"Ready to kick ass tonight?" She asked smiling.
"You bet." Out of his peripherals, he could see Clarke's eyebrows raised so high, he was just glad that they weren't caught up in her hair. Beside her, Monty muttered something quietly from the side of his mouth and Clarke's eyebrows inched up even higher if it was possible. "We're just about to head out to Wendy's to grab some food-stuffs before the game. You could, uh, meet us there if you wanted."
It wouldn't be a date, Jasper assured himself. Especially not with Clarke there. It'd just be a couple of friends hanging out before a soccer game.
Octavia smiled apologetically and Jasper felt his lungs deflate before she even opened her mouth. "I'm sorry," she said, "I wish I could, but my brother already said he was taking me out tonight." She cocked her head to the side. "Maybe next time?"
"Yeah! I mean, uh, sounds good." He watched her as she crossed the road and met up with a tall, curly haired boy who Jasper had seen around school before. "What?" he asked when he finally returned his attention to his sister and best friend.
"What was that?" Clarke asked, and Jasper couldn't tell if she was angry, curious, or both.
"Octavia? She's on my soccer team," he answered coolly.
"When did you guys get so chummy?" He picked up on the accusatory tone directed at him.
"We're really not," he said and Monty rolled his eyes.
"You wish you were more chummy with her, though, right?" Monty must've spoken Clarke's thoughts because she nodded in agreement.
Immediately Jasper regretted not filling Monty in about his crush. If Monty had known, he would've backed him up. He felt kind of betrayed, honestly.
"Dang, guys, I'm hungry." He changed the subject. "Let's hurry up before everyone in town decides to beat us to the restaurant."
To Jasper's relief, no one objected.
…
Even though Bellamy loved to support Octavia, there was nothing about sports that appealed to him other than the prospect of getting a scholarship if you played well enough. Back in freshman year, he had tried out for cross-country, track, soccer, basketball, swimming, and even football in an attempt of finding something that he might've been good enough at in order to increase his chances at getting into college cheaper.
When it turned out he sucked at all of them, he decided to focus more on the academic spectrum of earning college recognition. And it wasn't even like enjoyment could have motivated him to continue sports; he sucked and he hated it, so there was a non-existent balance.
No, he wasn't at Octavia's game because he liked soccer. He was there because she loved playing and it gave Bellamy a chance to unwind and do nothing after a long day of doing a lot of somethings.
"You're good here then?" he asked, dropping Octavia's soccer bag at their feet. They were at the base of the bleachers where a small crowd had already started forming.
Octavia stretched, casually touching the toe of her cleat to the back of her head. "Yeah. I'll meet up with you here after the game's over. That cool?"
"Yeah." Bellamy made a move to ruffle his sister's hair but thought better of it. "Kick ass, O."
She flashed him a cocky grin. "Do you really even need to tell me?" She jogged off, joining up with a kid with a mop of dark hair who looked vaguely familiar.
Now came the hard part: finding a decent seat in the bleachers. It might sound like an easy task, but nothing about it was simple. Most of the best spots up towards the top had already been taken, claimed by soccer parents who had been camping out with their blankets and coffee thermoses since school let out. Most of the student section was filling up fast too, but Bellamy knew from experience that things got a little too crazy up there and he wasn't in the mood for accidently falling off the side of the bleachers.
Other than soccer, Bellamy was usually ringed into going to football games, and on those days he would scan the crowd until he saw Miller spazzing out in adrenalized excitement. It was hard to miss most times because he'd have grey and red face paint splattered on his cheeks.
But this time he didn't have Miller saving a spot for him up in the crowd. Nope, Bellamy had to fend for himself. And the seats that were left all seemed pretty uncomfortable in his opinion.
"Oh, where do I go?" He stepped off to the side as a pair of younger kids darted up toward the top right section.
His eyes followed them up the stairs in hopes of finding a not-so-horrible place to sit when a sickeningly familiar face jumped out at him. What was Clarke doing here?
Bellamy might not know everything about the princess and her hobbies, but he was pretty sure that sports weren't one of them.
Then he remembered the boy on the field and the gears started turning. Now that he was forced to think about it, Bellamy did recall Octavia saying something about Jasper Jordan being on her team, and only a dumb sack of flour wouldn't know that Jasper was Clarke's brother.
(Everyone learned that one real quick when Murphy earned a sock in the mouth for harassing Jasper; the princess did pack a punch though.)
Clarke hadn't seen him, which was a relief. She was sitting with an Asian kid that Bellamy had seen hang around with her and Jasper from time to time.
Maybe he should sit with them. At least then he wouldn't be by himself watching a game he could care less about. Bellamy's hands momentarily tightened on the bleacher railing, and then turned to sit in the bottom front.
It wasn't the perfect view, but he didn't actually feel like dealing with the princess and her stuck up attitude.
…
Two hours and one sore back later, the game ended with a score of 4-1.
It wasn't a crushing defeat by any means, but it could have gone a lot better in Clarke's opinion if the seniors would have stopped being glory whores and passed the ball to some of the underclassmen. Namely Jasper.
For almost an hour, Clarke had watched Jasper jog up and down the field almost aimlessly because no one included him on the plays. She didn't see him even touch the ball; not even to bring it back inbounds.
And for as friendly Jasper thought he was with her, Clarke noticed that Octavia Blake was one of the biggest problems. She was good, no argument there, but she wasn't as good as she thought she was.
Octavia handled the ball for at least half the game, and not once did she attempt to include Jasper.
"So much for being chums," she commented when Octavia laughed at something Jasper must have said.
Monty stopped mid-stretch. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, she didn't even pass him the ball."
"It wasn't always open."
"She could have tried harder."
Monty stayed quiet after that, and eventually they filtered closer to the ground. Somewhere in the chaos, Monty had slipped out of her sight. Taking the initiative, Clarke backtracked up the stairs a bit to get a better look.
Almost immediately, she spotted Monty jogging to meet up with Jasper, Octavia, and a few others she didn't recognize.
It was who she did recognize, however, leaning against the fence down by the field that surprised her. Of course Bellamy would be here. His sister is in the game.
Then why was she genuinely surprised to see him? Maybe it was because Bellamy renounced anything that had to do with professional athletics and never failed to express how strongly he stood behind that opinion.
Why do we pay baseball and football players billions of dollars a year? I don't see them doing anything heroic! Why does a quarterback like Tom Brady get to go out and party while we have veterans homeless in New York? Political, social justice? I think not!
Not that he was wrong, Clarke just found it amusing.
Clarke doubled back down the stairs, thankful for the last few shreds of daylight. "Bellamy!" she yelled when she assumed that he was in earshot. Bellamy glanced in the direction her voice had come from, but when he recognized her face, he scowled and turned away.
"What do you want now, Princess?" He asked when she got closer. He sounded exasperated and didn't even bother to look at her again.
"I just wanted to say sorry about earlier. I didn't mean to offend you about the history thing."
Bellamy shifted uncomfortably, like he didn't know how to respond to her apology.
Instead of making awkward conversation about something stupid like the weather, Clarke moved on down the fence until she was standing at the gap that gave entrance to the field. "Monty! Jasper! I'm leaving in two minutes–with or without you!"
Monty had to grip Jasper by the upper arm and literally drag him off the field. Clarke made a mental note to keep a dangerously close eye on him. The last thing she wanted was a Blake as a niece or nephew.
"Hey, Clarkey," Jasper grinned in excitement as they drew closer and Clarke decided that she would forgive him for using such a tacky nickname. "Pretty good game, wasn't it?"
"Oh my God you smell like sweat." She pushed him away when he tried to envelope her in slimy embrace and suddenly she wished she had snapped at him for the nickname.
"Saw you talking with Bellamy," Monty noted, eyebrows steepled together.
Clarke noticed how he left it as an open-ended statement. "We're fine."
For now, she thought.
When student council and debate started up in a week, the civilness would be all but a distant memory.
...
What's your favorite POV so far?
1/15/16
