Chapter 2

The football game ended in defeat for Arcadia High, and a tactless cheer from Jasper when the whistle blew prompted looks of disgust from our fellow home fans around us. Wanting to avoid the wrath of said fans, I feigned bitter disappointment but, in truth, my only disappointment came from seeing the cheerleading squad disappear down the tunnel towards the changing rooms.

With numb fingers I waved at Bellamy as he too made his way towards the changing rooms, offering him an understanding look that was half smile, half frown. He simply returned my wave with a nod. Arcadia High was well acquainted with defeat when it came to football, but Bellamy's proud and sensitive nature meant that he took the losses harder than most. There was something endearing in that for me: the way that he put his whole heart into every game despite the tempting cynicism of those around him.

Yet, while I loved and admired this quality of Bellamy's, I loathed the result. For the problem with putting your whole heart into something is that what you receive back is always a hundredfold. Something I would come to know too well.

For Bellamy, this meant that his unwavering optimism and determination resulted in an even stronger frustration and exhaustion with every defeat. And his ensuing bad moods were… challenging, to say the least.

These bad moods made someone I enjoyed being around, difficult to be around. Someone who was usually fun and positive became a stranger in this regard. But the biggest problem of all was that these moods were so affecting that I too became one of those tempting cynics. I often wondered why he gave so much when the likely— no, probable result was one of extreme frustration and disappointment.

Although never voiced, when I became aware of a certain period after a defeat, I began to suspect that all those who knew Bellamy shared these same feelings on the matter. A widespread contagion of forgetfulness seemed to descend upon the group during this period, in which Bellamy seemed to be the only cure. With Bellamy's arrival came the sudden realisation that unfinished homework had been forgotten; band practice forgotten; collecting grandmothers from halfway across town, forgotten. I realised the correlation soon after I began to seriously worry that Jasper's 90-year-old grandmother was more socially active than me.

The number of supporters in the stands also slowly dwindled after caving to the cynicism that Bellamy impressively evaded.

Octavia, Jasper, Monty and I remained. Out of loyalty. Pity. Love. And you already know that I may have had some other reasons.

And so the four of us, on this cold winter's night, began to descend the bleachers as I battled with my understanding for Bellamy's inevitable sour mood, and my annoyance at having to be understanding at all. Why did he insist on being such an angst-filled teenager?

I was scowling at the thought as I glanced to my right and noticed Octavia's facial expression mirroring my own.

"Another loss for Arcadia High; another thrilling weekend in the Blake household," Jasper taunted, having also noticed. Octavia shot him a glare as Jasper grinned, happy to have finally gotten under her skin.

"Why are you still here?" She questioned, maintaining her glare.

"Well I was going to search for my fallen nipples back there, but winding Bellamy up to the point of explosion seems like more fun."

"Don't you fucking dare," Octavia growled, advancing on Jasper. "You know damn well that I have to live with him all weekend," she continued to advance as Jasper backed away slightly, his grin flickering, "and if I find out that you've done anything to make my weekend anything but smiles and sunshine…" finally reaching him, she entered his space and appeared to tower over him despite her much smaller height, letting her threat hang for a few tense seconds.

Suddenly, her hand shot out and ruffled Jasper's hair, causing him to jump in fright. She grinned at Monty and me, before turning back to Jasper.

"Christ! Don't be so jumpy Jas," she mocked. Jasper laughed shakily along with us, but made no further suggestions of antagonising Bellamy.

"Well now that that's been cleared up, I'd better go and offer my condolences for the terrible loss," I deadpanned. "I'll see you guys on Monday. You coming O?"

With a wave at Jasper and Monty, and one last warning look from Octavia to the former, we reluctantly made our way to the changing rooms.

"Jasper's right, you know… I'm really not looking forward to this weekend," Octavia groaned. "But seriously! Does Bellamy even try to be in a good mood anymore? How the fuck can you lose 62-10? That has to be the worst game yet…"

She continued to ramble about how awfully Arcadia had played while I offered little more than nods and hums of agreement. In truth, I had had absolutely no idea what the score had been, nor could I offer any commentary on how well either team had played. My attentions had been elsewhere, though I had little desire to inform Octavia of this. She didn't need to know that my admiration and envy of the cheerleading squad superseded my swooning over the football team. It wasn't important. It was normal to be curious. And envious. Don't forget the envious part.

As we reached the doors to the gym, which held the basketball court and the changing rooms, Octavia took a dramatic breath in as though she were a warrior preparing for battle.

"Don't be such a drama queen," I laughed, shaking my head.

"That's easy for you to say. He's so much grumpier to me than he is to you, Princess Clarke."

I scoffed. "I'm calling bullshit here, pal. If there's anyone more willing to call him out on his self-pitying, brooding act than I am, it's you."

"Hmm, well… That doesn't mean that it's any less annoying when he walks around the house pouting all the time."

"But," I grabbed her arm, looking her right in the eyes with a concerned expression, "how else is he going to perfect 'Magnum'?"

I gave an exaggerated pout and Octavia laughed as she opened the gym doors. Continuing to joke about how dark and wounded Bellamy was, we made our way to sit by our usual spot at the side of the basketball court as we waited for him to emerge from the changing rooms.

As we did so, I noticed out of the corner of my eye that a few of the cheerleaders were emerging instead. As always, however, my eyes stayed trained on Octavia lest she suspect that something was amiss. For although I had convinced myself that there was nothing for her to suspect anyway, this feigned disinterest had become ingrained in me.

So it was because of this that I didn't realise she was approaching until it was too late. Although too late for what, I wasn't sure.

"Octavia. Hey."

I turned towards the voice that I had only heard in the handful of classes we shared. The same voice that sometimes sent that irksome thrill down my spine. It was because of her diction, I had reasoned. It was a controlled and rhythmic level of enunciation that I rarely heard in the hallways of Arcadia High and, simply put, I liked it. It was a nice change from all the social conformity that I experienced every day.

This voice belonged to – you guessed it – Lexa Woods. The same cheerleader I had been enthusiastically admiring not twenty minutes ago.

But she was closer than 6 metres now. She had changed out of her cheerleader outfit and was quickly approaching us. Her long bare legs, now covered in shorts, took long strides to close the distance, and I suddenly found myself struggling to direct my eyes elsewhere. Feigning disinterest soon became a lot harder when the subject of my interest was getting steadily closer.

Nevertheless, it was a curveball I swiftly dealt with. Nonchalance had become a skill I had long mastered, and my surprise at having Lexa Woods approach us was quickly masked with neutrality and a normal level of interest. Still, when she finally stood before us, I took advantage of the new proximity and scanned her face with an undetected urgency. With a surprising level of exasperation, I noted that she was infinitely more beautiful up close. There goes my hopes of true disinterest, I thought to myself worriedly.

Her hair remained tied in its ponytail, allowing me to admire the sharp angles of her face and her tanned skin. Her skin was annoyingly perfect, and I found myself lamenting over my paleness and occasional outbreak of spots. Yet, like every time before, it was her eyes that I found my gaze constantly returning to. I had long acknowledged that the shade of green was one so rare and so beautifully contrasted to her tanned skin that, from an aesthetic point of view, would have attracted any sensible artist. But it was the multitude of emotions that I could now see in them that suddenly attracted me. They made her seem experienced yet innocent, wise yet naïve, strong yet vulnerable. They made me long to know everything about her.

Or maybe I'm simply filling in the blanks with what I know now. But what I can tell you, with total certainty, is that when those eyes locked with mine for the first time, as she stood before Octavia and I by the side of the basketball court, I knew then, absolutely and completely, that this girl was going to be important in my life.

"Oh, hey Lexa," Octavia replied with a smile. It was when Lexa smiled at me in greeting that our eyes locked and this realisation of her importance in my life hit me without mercy. The shock of it almost winded me and I quickly averted my gaze, becoming uncomfortable with Lexa's presence and this unwelcome realisation that had come with it. I began to inwardly panic, which led to confusion about why I was panicking which, in turn, led to further panicking. My casual mask of disinterest barely slipped however, and I soon commenced the surreptitious scanning of Lexa's face and memorisation of her perfect features. In an envious way. Nothing more.

Suddenly I desperately wished I had made more of an effort with my appearance, but passed it off as insecurity in the face of someone so physically perfect.

"Were you at the game?" Lexa asked, graciously directing the question at both of us so as not to leave me out.

"Yes, unfortunately. My brother's the quarterback," Octavia explained.

"Oh, Bellamy? That sucks."

I laughed, drawing her attention and causing her to blush as she realised what she had said.

"Oh! No! Shit, sorry. I didn't mean that. I'm sure he's a great brother. I just meant from what I hear about him being a total nightmare," she said, tripping over her words in her haste.

Her blush deepened as I laughed again and Octavia's eyebrow quirked. It was cute.

"No! Fucking hell," she murmured to herself, "I meant after a defeat… everyone says that he gets into a really bad mood, and turns into a bit of a nightmare. But I'm sure he's a delight otherwise."

"So you've been gossiping about him behind his back with everyone?" I accused. Her eyes widened slightly in alarm.

"What? No! I would never bitch about someone behind their—"

Her eyes narrowed in faux-annoyance and her face relaxed as she realised I was grinning at her; my eyes alight with mischief. One side of her mouth quirked up in a half-smile that I decided I liked.

"Ah. Okay, ha-ha. You got me…?"

"Clarke," I finished for her, with a smirk.

"Clarke."

The way she held my gaze as she said my name started the panic again. I felt as though it was something I had been longing to hear for weeks, and I hadn't even known it. It was just her diction, I repeated to myself over and over again. My smirk never faltered for a second.

"Well yes; it does suck, to be honest," Octavia said, stealing Lexa's attention, "and a 'nightmare' would be an understatement. He's a total fucking Leonardo-DiCaprio-style-nightmare-within-a-nightmare-within-a-nightmare-within-a-fucking-nightmare, moody, miserable, melodramatic—"

"Bellamy!" I exclaimed, waving at Bellamy as he emerged from the changing rooms, successfully cutting off her increasingly louder and increasingly scarier rant before he was in earshot.

Lexa laughed, half-nervously, clearly not expecting such an explosive reaction. I rolled my eyes at Octavia and shot Lexa an amused smile before reluctantly turning my attention to Bellamy.

As always, Octavia was the first of us to stand up and close the distance towards him. For despite her (frequent) profanity-filled rants of rage about her brother, she loved him more than anyone in the world. The same was true for Bellamy and he saw his younger sister (of only a year, as Octavia often reminded) as someone he needed to always protect, even from himself (even though she was more than capable of protecting herself, which she also often reminded). Which is why she was better than anyone at handling his bad moods and, despite her incessant taunting, was often the one to drag him back to the Bellamy we loved.

Yes, it's true: we actually loved him.

No, really, I swear.

I realise that I've painted a rather bleak and infuriating picture of Bellamy thus far, but in truth he was the best person I knew (when he wasn't emulating Ebenezer Scrooge in the short period after a defeat, that is). For the most part, he was generous, kind, funny, sweet, and incredibly loyal. Yes, he could be a bit of an idiot at times but his heart was always in the right place. And that was the best thing about him. He thought with his heart, and not with his head; he acted on emotions rather than logic. It was occasionally messy and often maddening, but it was also sort of beautiful in its innocence. The way that he was constantly buzzing with emotion – something about that was magnetising. Sometimes it was intense. Sometimes it was painful to see someone feel so much, yet express so little. But most of the time it was electrifying. This empathetic, emotional, erratic boy was someone that I loved more than most, and it pretty much erased the few negatives that came with it.

It was this that I was reminded of when Bellamy met my eyes from metres away and offered me a defeated smile. Even from that distance I could see the emotions displayed so openly on his face. The rawness of it jarred me like it often did and I swiftly turned my cool and casual expression to Lexa once more.

"Sorry about that. Octavia loves him really."

"Clearly," Lexa responded sarcastically.

"In her defence, he can be a total pain in the ass and he's a moody fuck sometimes-"

"Please, don't you start as well!" Lexa interrupted, half-jokingly.

"But," I continued, laughing, "he's actually sort of great most of the time. And they really do love each other… Though they'd never admit it of course." I smiled over at them as I watched Octavia stand on her tiptoes to ruffle his hair and pinch his cheeks as he attempted to push her away; he was scowling but there was a fondness in his eyes. It was hard to push Octavia away.

"Well they wouldn't be doing the whole 'sibling' thing right if they did," she replied.

"Yeah. I mean, they're already far too nice to each other. Octavia's rant earlier?" I scoffed. "Lost her touch, if you ask me."

Lexa smiled. I had already decided that I liked her smile from afar (that sounded far creepier than I had intended), but up close it only strengthened my thoughts on the subject. Her smile brightened her eyes so significantly that I had soon tasked myself with finding out just how wide her smile had to be before her eyes became blinding. I smiled back, finding myself excited by the project.

"Clarke!" Octavia called, snapping me out of my thoughts. "Bellamy and I are going to start walking to the car. Do you need a ride, Lexa?"

"Oh, no thanks, I've got my car. I'll walk out with you guys, though."

With a nod from Octavia, she and Bellamy began walking to the car park as Lexa and I followed.

"So how do you know Octavia?" I asked, facing forwards as we walked and bracing myself for the sharp winds before stepping out into the cold January night.

"We sit next to each other in a few classes."

"And you didn't know that her brother was the Grinch of Arcadia?"

"I only transferred after the holidays. I don't tend to pay any attention to the Grinch after Christmas." I chuckled at that. It was a lame joke, but they were always my favourite kind. "And I suppose I haven't spoken to all that many people yet. Octavia included." She paused before continuing. "I guess you could say I'm 'shy'," she said, using air-quotes and rolling her eyes.

"Well you don't seem shy," I challenged.

"Well maybe you bring it out in me," she returned, without hesitation.

I glanced at her for the first time since leaving the gym and saw that she had already been looking at me, with something in her expression that made me nervous. It was as though she was daring me. To do what, I didn't know.

So, of course, I laughed nervously instead to shift the tension that I felt had developed, and promptly changed the subject:

"How are you not freezing your ass off?" I asked, gesturing to her bare legs.

"I was wearing less out on the field—"

I noticed, I thought.

"—And I tend to work up quite a sweat as well."

Yep. Noticed that too.

"That makes sense," I nodded. "I should probably take this scarf off, to be honest. I worked up quite the sweat myself, with all my own cheering. All that jumping up and down really takes it out of you, am I right?" I mocked.

She gasped dramatically, clutching at her chest in horror. "Cheerleading is far more than just jumping up and down, I'll have you know."

"Oh yeah?" I asked, doubtful.

"Yep. You have to be able to spell too."

"That's very true," I laughed. "Clearly I've underestimated your abilities as a cheerleader."

"Eh," she shrugged. "I'm used to it," she said cryptically. "So, hey, I was trying to think where I recognised you from…?"

"Probably from class. We have English and Social Studies together."

"So you noticed me then?" she asked cockily.

"It's a small school. Everyone notices the new kid," I lied calmly.

"Right." She was blushing, her eyebrows drawn together in embarrassment as we reached Octavia and Bellamy who were stood by Octavia's car.

"Oh Bell, this is Lexa," Octavia said. "We sit next to each other in our Science classes."

"And French," Lexa added.

"Oh, yeah. And French."

I was pleasantly surprised with this new information about her; something about Lexa speaking French was extremely appealing to me.

"It's nice to meet you," Lexa said to Bellamy.

Bellamy managed to reply with an unconvincing "you too" before addressing me for the first time today.

"So that was pretty shitty, huh?"

"You played amazingly," I replied diplomatically.

"Not amazingly enough apparently."

"Bellamy, I don't know how many times I have to tell you that you can't carry a whole team," I said, exasperatedly. "No one can. No matter how well they play."

I watched him as he gritted his teeth. It wasn't enough for him. He didn't want to be part of the collective "they". He truly believed that he could carry a whole team, but he just wasn't giving enough. I was afraid that soon there'd be nothing left.

This fear, and my anguish at seeing someone I loved so deeply this distressed, led me to reach out for his hand and interlock our fingers. I squeezed his hand to let him know that I was there, and I watched as every part of him visibly relaxed before he smiled at me in thanks and acknowledgement of the gesture.

"Ugh, come on you two," Octavia groaned. "Let's go before I have to suffer through anymore PDA."

"What? So I'm not even allowed to hold my girlfriend's hand now?" Bellamy grumbled.

I couldn't help but glance at Lexa. I hadn't mentioned to her that I was dating the star (?) quarterback of Arcadia High, but why would I? It didn't come up and I thought she probably knew already; it was a small school. Her surprised and confused expression, however, told me that she didn't and I wondered why I was disappointed that I found nothing else on her face.

"Hand-holding is fine," Octavia said. "The lingering looks of love, however, are vomit-inducing."

"There were no 'lingering looks of love'."

"There definitely were."

"No, there weren't."

"Okay. Whatever you say, Romeo."

I could see Bellamy getting agitated so I squeezed his hand again. "Really Octavia?" I sighed. "You were just threatening Jasper about this very thing, not half an hour ago."

"Yeah, but that's Jasper," she smirked.

"Right. Well I'm fucking freezing so can we continue this in the car? Or, like, maybe not? That would be great." I turned to Lexa, smiling apologetically. "Sorry about that. Again."

"It's fine," she chuckled. "It's entertaining actually."

"That's optimistic." I said, looking back at the Blake siblings who had resumed their squabbling. "I'd better go and issue some timeouts," I sighed. "But I'll see you in class on Monday?"

"I'll see you there, Clarke."

With that, she said goodbye to Octavia and Bellamy and, with a smile, turned and made her way across the parking lot to her car.

I watched with envy in my eyes as her long, toned legs brought this beautiful girl further and further away from me, with a sway in her hips and elegance in her stride.

I was still watching when she suddenly turned around to face me and began walking backwards. And she must have seen something other than envy in my eyes, for as soon as they locked with her own, a dangerous grin broke out across her face and set her green eyes alight. Those green eyes were brighter than I had yet seen them and, fascinated by their expressiveness and transfixed by one expression in particular, I felt a slight shiver run down my spine. It was an expression that she had already directed my way in the short time that I had known her, and one that she would direct my way for years to come. But it was on this occasion that my sense of both fear and excitement as a result of this expression was inevitable as well as justified, for it was the turning point. I knew it then as much as I know it now. This expression?

I dare you.