Chapter Seven: Sign Me Up
Bellamy spotted the blonde hair in the bleachers right away.
After his confrontation with Octavia, Bellamy had sat in the driveway for what felt like an eternity. It wasn't so much the news that she had given him that had been the blow to his pride, but rather the fact that she thought it would upset him.
Who Clarke dated or didn't date was none of his business and he honestly could care less about her personal life. Octavia didn't rile him up, but instead just confirmed his suspicions.
In the end, Bellamy had called Miller and told him that he couldn't make it, then slumped up to his room.
Two days later before it was light on Sunday morning, he was forced to drive Octavia an hour out to an away game. Neither of them spoke a word to each other the entire drive there, though Bellamy quickly realized afterward that Octavia had been asleep most of the ride.
Now as he stood at the bottom of the bleachers, blanket around his shoulders and mug of coffee in hand, he stared up at Clarke sitting alone. He was tempted to find any spot away from her like he normally would, but instead stomped up the metal stairs until he was looming right over her.
Either she didn't notice him or she was deliberately ignoring him, because she didn't acknowledge his presence. "No Asian kid today?" he asked.
Clarke jumped, whipping her head in his direction. Bellamy made a mental note that she indeed had not been purposefully ignoring him. "His names Monty," she replied sternly, but nothing about her tone seemed cold. "And no. He didn't come today."
"I don't blame him." Bellamy waved an arm at the field that was dimly lit by the morning glow of the rising sun. "It's not even light out yet and it's freezing." He looked down at his feet and wiggled toes which were visible in the socks and sandals he wore. "That and my socks are wet and I hate that."
Clarke cracked a grin. It dawned on Bellamy that he couldn't remember if he had made Clarke Griffin smile in his life. Like, ever. "That's what you get for not wearing sneakers." She pointed down at her sneakers that, quite frankly, looked way warmer than Bellamy's sandals.
He also noticed that she was slightly shivering and her nose was running. "And that," Bellamy pointed to her shaking form, "is what you get for wearing a spring jacket and not bringing a blanket."
Setting his coffee on the bench, he slipped his blanket off and draped it around Clarke's shoulders. Clarke knit her eyebrows together. "But-"
"I'm fine," Bellamy cut her off. He reclaimed his coffee and took a seat on the bench to the left of Clarke. "I wore a sweater thick enough to survive the Himalayas. I mostly just bring that to sit on because the benches are always freezing."
"Thanks, Bellamy." The word sound foreign coming from her, especially when it was being directed toward him. The last few minutes seemed to be full of new revelations. "Is this a One Direction blanket?" she asked suddenly, looking intently at the material.
When Bellamy met her gaze, she had a small smile on her face. He chuckled. "Yeah. Octavia was really into them a few years back." He leaned a tad closer, as if to tell a secret, and said, "Don't tell anyone, but she still has a shrine for Harry Styles in her closet."
"Wow." She shook her head as she chuckled, drawing the plush blanket up to her chin.
Bellamy glanced back down at the field, but nothing was happening. The other team hadn't even shown up yet which meant the Delinquents weren't in a rush to start warm-ups. Octavia was sitting on her soccer bag, staring at her phone. Most of the other kids, including Monroe Bellamy noticed, were curled up in lawn chairs trying to catch a few extra minutes of sleep. Even the coach looked a little out of it.
Then he saw Jasper motion to Octavia. She quickly bounded over to the empty chair he had been saving for her, then threw half of his blanket over her lap.
"No offense," Clarke said suddenly and Bellamy started. She had been so quiet he had nearly forgotten she was there. "But I don't think I really like the idea of my brother dating your sister."
"Well, no offense," he repeated, "but I don't really like the idea of my sister dating your brother."
"Will you look at that. I guess there is something that we can agree on."
Bellamy took a swig of his coffee and pulled his hood up in an attempt to keep his ears warmer. He contemplated bringing up how he was sorry about how things didn't work out with Wells, but it didn't seem like the right moment.
He couldn't remember a time where he and Clarke had been so civil...it felt kind of nice and Bellamy wasn't about to screw it up. Clarke might be a pain in the ass most of the time, but she did make decent company.
…
Wells was afraid that he'd lost her.
He supposed it was only a matter of time if he hadn't been able to get back in the ring to fight for her affection—after all, Clarke was a knock-out and anyone who didn't admit it was simply in denial. But he didn't think she'd get swept up by someone else so soon.
It'd been roughly two weeks since Wells's confrontation with Jasper and how he went back on how he said that he'd get Wells a list of activities Clarke was doing this year. He tried not to feel bitter about it, especially since he had stooped to the low and followed Clarke around to figure out what clubs she was in.
The joke had a double punchline because first Wells was rejected of receiving a list and then he wasted twelve hours snooping only to find out Clarke had only taken up student-council and debate.
It had also been two weeks since Clarke started hanging out with Finn Collins on a regular basis, something that Wells never could have foreseen. He'd walk her to her locker and they sat together at lunch. They never kissed or held hands, but always walked close enough to each other where their shoulders were always brushing.
It pained Wells to see her eyes light up with someone else. It was always supposed to be Wells who would sweep her up off of her feet and be the one to kiss away her problems when everything was falling apart.
Only this time it had been him to make everything fall apart, and Finn was the one picking up the pieces.
Wells shoved the door open to the room where the student-council meeting was being held for that day. Everyone was already accounted for except for Clarke which was odd.
Bellamy, who had quickly adjusted to his role as co-president, stood behind the podium with Miller playing Hangman on the whiteboard.
"You guys really shouldn't be doing that," Wells warned as he sat down.
Bellamy capped his marked and turned around slowly. Miller leaned with his back pressed against the board. "Who died and made you the superintendent?" Bellamy challenged.
Wells folded his hands on his desk, keeping his calm composure. Obviously Bellamy was trying to get a rise out of him. "No one did. I'm just saying—"
"—you were just saying." Bellamy rolled his eyes, annoyed. "Last time I checked, you weren't one of the co-presidents of this coalition, Wells." He leveled his gaze on those who were also present. "Do any of you recall Wells being in charge?"
"I don't," Miller pitched in. No one else said anything.
Wells's nostrils flared. He wasn't going anywhere with this so he might as well just let it be. Bellamy was a coward so let him have his pitiful victory. He watched Bellamy's grin double in confidence as he whirled back around to finish up his game with Miller.
The next few minutes Wells played Scrabble on his phone, beating the computer players twice. He was about to start up a third round when the door swung open and Clarke walked in. Miller quickly slid back into his seat to the right of Bellamy's spot at the podium.
Wells was about to ask Clarke what had taken her so long when he noticed Finn trailing in behind her. His heart fell back into his chest.
"Sorry we're late, everyone," Clarke said, tone level as ever. She took her spot beside Bellamy at the podium while Finn sat the top of Harper's desk to Clarke's right. "It won't happen again. Okay—"
"Woah, woah, woah." Bellamy held his fist up to his forehead and for once Wells had to agree. "What's this?"
"I'm Finn." Finn turned up his palms as if confused on how to better introduce himself. "We have PE, lunch, and Euro. History together. Duh."
Bellamy rolled his eyes. "I know who you are, Spacewalker."
"Spacewalker?" Wells repeated.
"That kid can do the moonwalk as good as Michael Jackson. The nickname stuck," Sterling explained in a hushed tone.
Both Clarke and Bellamy seemed to have ignored the interruption because their eyes were locked on each other's in a heated debate. "What's the problem, Bellamy?" Clarke asked, but her tone made it clear that she didn't care if there was a problem.
Bellamy snorted, resting his arm on the podium. "Earth to Princess? It's already the third meeting so he can't just show up out of nowhere and magically be on stu-co."
"Which is why I went and talked to Cartwig," Finn said, standing up. "She technically runs student council. I went with Clarke to talk to her and everything's fine. So don't be such a dick about it, Bellamy." He sat back down.
Clarke was holding back giggles and there was no denying the admiration in her eyes. Wells wanted to get as far away from that room as possible. He wanted to collect the shattered pieces of his heart and just melt away forever.
Finn had scooped up the one girl Wells had ever loved, and there wasn't anything he could do about it.
…
Clarke shared a smile with Finn before clearing her throat.
Bellamy was still muttering about how it wasn't fair that "Spacewalker" could just waltz right into student council like he owned the place. It was actually rather annoying and it made Clarke wonder how she was ever able to hold actual conversations with him.
"I think the first order of business would be to tell everyone about the quiz-tournament," Finn suggested, turning to Clarke for approval.
She nodded, but Bellamy butt in, "So now he's calling the shots too?"
"He was just making a suggestion, Bellamy." Clarke, surprised by his voice, turned to where Wells was slouched in his chair. Not that she cared, but he looked like his appendix burst.
Bellamy rolled his eyes with a scoff, but stayed quiet.
Clarke glanced over at Finn who shrugged. Clearing her throat, Clarke said, "Now if Bellamy is done throwing his temper tantrum—" she looked to Bellamy and he rolled his eyes as a confirmation that he wouldn't interrupt— "then we have some other business to discuss."
She produced a crumpled piece of paper from her jacket pocket and smoothed it out on the podium top. From off to the side, she felt Bellamy leaning closer to her in order to read over her shoulder. "It turns out that Miss Cartwig was going to be coming down here to bring us our latest project. Since I went to talk to her with Finn, she just gave it to me then."
"So what's this new project?" Miller asked.
"We have to put together a Quiz Bowl," Clarke said. Groans erupted around the room, a sound that she had grown accustomed too over the last few years. "Guys, it won't be that bad."
"But we're already planning homecoming," Fox grumbled under her breath.
"We don't need to organize the event," Finn clarified. "We just need to advertise around the school and put a team together and then they go to the actual event."
"What happens if we can't put a team together?" Harper raised an eyebrow.
"That's the catch," Clarked answered calmly. "If we don't have a team in time for the first tournament, then we have to do it."
Cue more groans. Sometimes Clarke wondered why she put up with student-council; she felt like she was babysitting a group of children.
"We have a month deadline," Finn addressed the room, jumping to the floor. "That means we have four weeks to put a team together. If you guys actually try putting some effort into it, then we'll have a chance."
"Finn's right," Clarke nodded. She met every cold gaze in the room (except for Wells who still looked like he had chest pains.) "We have a lot to do between homecoming and this Quiz Bowl so we have to make sure to put our effort into everything we do if we want to meet our deadlines."
"But I have soccer to worry about too," Sterling mumbled. "I don't want to have to worry about being forced to do a Quiz Bowl."
"Then I'd suggest that you start recruiting as soon as possible," Bellamy snapped sternly. "You're a part of this group and you can't just cop out of it because you don't want to. We're all in this together, so if we go down, we're taking you with us."
Finn pursed his lips.
Turning back to the circle, Clarke asked, "Now who has ideas on how to campaign this thing?"
...
"Jasper?"
Jasper stared at the flyer, a lopsided grin forming across his cheeks. This could be what he needed.
"Jasper?"
And extra security measure to make sure he got into the science-tech school that he wanted.
"Jasper."
Without thinking it through, he ripped the paper from where it was taped to the wall. Nearly tripping over his own feet as he ran, he yelled back, "Sorry, Octavia! I'll talk to you later!"
He bolted down the hallway, down a flight of stairs, and wove through another congested hallway. He didn't stop until he reached Monty's locker. When he wasn't there, Jasper pressed his back to the metal and slid down until he was crouching on the floor.
He hadn't been sitting there for two minutes before a shadow loomed over him and a familiar voice said, "You look winded."
Jasper peered up through his dark curls. Monty was leaning with his shoulder on the lockers and his bookbag hung from his side. "Dude," Jasper gasped, still tired from his breakneck sprinting, "check this out."
Monty snatched up the flyer from Jasper's extended grip, eyes focusing on the words. He made several facial expressions as he read, and Jasper wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. When he finished reading, he dropped the paper back into Jasper's lap. "I don't know dude," he said after a minute.
"Oh come one, Monty!" Jasper climbed to his feet and firmly placed his hands on his best friend's shoulders. "We could do this! You're a genius at techy stuff and I'm badass at chemistry. We could build a robot so great that there's no way that we could lose."
"Let me see that again." He grabbed the paper and scanned it for a moment. "You do realize that it's an actual competition, right?" Monty pointed to the words on the document.
Jasper brushed it off easily. "That's what makes it better."
"There are competition days though. We have to make it to regionals, semi-finals, and then the finals. Are you sure you'd want to do that and balance it with soccer?"
"I can handle it. I take it you missed that very important part at the bottom though." Jasper snatched the flyer back and pointed out a box in the bottom left hand corner.
Monty's jaw dropped. "Ten thousand dollars for award cash and scholarship money?"
Jasper nodded his head, leaning back against the lockers with a wry grin. "We could do it. Imagine it. Harper wouldn't be able to shoot you down."
Monty shot him a disapproving glare, but Jasper could already see the gears in Monty's head spinning. His walls were coming down and was already figuring out a battle plan. "Today's the last day to register."
"I know," Jasper grinned. "So are you in?"
Monty released an extensive groan before turning on his heel. "Come on," he called over his shoulder, "we've got to get to the office and sign up before school ends."
Jasper jogged after Monty, swinging his arm around his shoulder. "You're going to do it?"
"Don't make me regret this."
...
how's it going everyone?
2/8/16
