Thanks for all of your support and kind words! I have gotten such an amazing reaction to this story and I have all of you to thank for that! So, without further ado, I give you chapter 4! Enjoy! :)
Chapter 4
Octavia sat alone in the cafeteria doodling in her notepad as she waited for the morning bell to ring. She was just about ready to pack up her stuff when a boy sat down across from her. She looked up, watching as a cocky grin curved his lips.
"Octavia right," the boy asked.
"Yeah," she answered uncertainly.
A new school was always hard; especially when people found out she was the coach's sister. People either steered clear of her altogether or they hated her for her relation to her tough, no nonsense brother.
"I'm Atom," the teen smiled, "Would you like to come and hang out with me and some of my friends?"
Octavia sat in undecided silence for about two minutes before finally nodding in affirmation and following him out the back door of the large building. Soon, she spotted a group of teens lounging against the brick wall with cigarettes dangling from their mouths.
"Hey everyone, this is Octavia," Atom introduced.
Octavia smiled, nodding to each person as they stepped forward and welcomed her to their group.
"You want a smoke," one girl by the name of Roma asked her.
Octavia knew that Bellamy would be furious with her, but she took the offered cigarette anyway. Just as she was about to light it, a teacher came around the corner.
The group of teens split, leaving Octavia standing alone with the unlit cigarette and a guilty expression. As she was being led away to the principal's office, the girl couldn't help but wonder if her brother would be angry because she'd nearly taken up a destructive habit or because she'd gotten in trouble and likely embarrassed him.
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Clarke had to run to see Principal Wallace's secretary Fox about ordering some new sketchbooks when she found one of her students seated in one of the chairs lining the wall adjacent to Cage's office.
"What'd she do," Clarke asked.
"Got caught with a cigarette. She wasn't smoking, didn't even have a lighter," Fox answered.
"Does Wallace know she's here?"
"No, he hasn't even made it in this morning," Fox answered.
Clarke watched the girl as her legs jumped nervously and her eyes darted around the office waiting area. She sighed, knowing that what she was about to do was not exactly something the principal would be happy about.
"Fox can you keep this little fiasco from Wallace. Octavia's a good kid, she just got mixed up in the wrong crowd I'm sure. I'll take her with me and talk to her," Clarke offered.
Fox smiled knowingly, but nodded, "Mum's the word."
"Thanks, I owe you one," Clarke said before turning to the anxious student, "Octavia, come with me please."
The blonde waited for the girl, letting her exit the little lobby and then leading the way to the art room. After they entered, Clarke sat down at her desk and watched as Octavia stood shifting from foot to foot before her.
"Sit down, Octavia. I think we need to have a little chat," Clarke said kindly.
"I didn't know they would be smoking, Miss Griffin, I promise. They just handed me a cigarette and I took it. I know it was wrong, but I just thought…" The girl said trailing off.
"You just thought what," Clarke asked.
"I thought maybe if I got into trouble that maybe my brother would notice me. He's been so busy with his new job that he hardly ever has time for me. Maybe if I act out a little he'll pay more attention to me," Octavia said quietly.
Clarke felt her heart constrict, she knew exactly how the young girl felt and sadly she had a good idea of what would happen if Octavia continued on the rebellious path.
"My Mom was like that when I was your age, too busy for me and too wrapped up in her career to see what was going on. I've been down that road, Octavia, and I know that it only ends in heartache. However, unlike me, you've got people in your corner. You're more than welcome to come to my house any time you need a place to stay or to just get away from it all, and I'm always here if you need to talk," Clarke said with a smile.
Octavia stared at the woman before her, too stunned to speak for a moment. Then a smile curved her lips as she rushed to hug the woman who'd cared enough to speak up and stop her from going down the wrong path.
"Thank you, Miss Griffin," the teen said as she hugged Clarke tightly.
"You're welcome, sweetie," Clarke said fondly.
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Bellamy walked down the line of weight benches watching as his players worked. He could hear Miller and Murphy shouting either encouragements or insults in an attempt to get the boys to try harder.
The young coach stopped at the end of the line, a frown marring his features when one player was nowhere to be found. He remembered telling Lincoln he wanted him in lifting, yet the teen had disobeyed him.
Bellamy allowed his anger to fester for the rest of the day, planning exactly how he would get his point across to the young man who'd disregarded his instructions.
When practice rolled around that afternoon, he was fuming. He watched behind his dark shades as Lincoln jogged out on the field, taking his place in the lineup. Then the coach stepped forward, ready to teach the kid a lesson.
"Griffin," Bellamy yelled, "Step forward."
Lincoln did was he was told, stepping out from the line to stand before his coach.
"We missed you at lifting this morning," Bellamy said casually.
"I'm sorry sir, but I had class," Lincoln replied.
"He had class," the coach muttered, "I thought I told you to drop that, Griffin."
"You did sir," Lincoln admitted.
"Then why didn't you do it," Bellamy yelled.
"My mother teaches the class, Coach, and I enjoy art," Lincoln said, his chin up and gaze unwavering.
Bellamy admired the kid's spunk, but he couldn't let him do things half way. Lincoln was going to have to work hard if he was ever going to make it to college level or beyond.
"You a momma's boy, Lincoln," Bellamy asked.
"I guess you could say that, Coach," Lincoln said tersely.
"Your daddy should have kept you from hanging on her skirts long ago," the coach said angrily.
He watched as Lincoln stiffened, gritting his teeth before speaking quietly, "My father left me before I was born."
Bellamy stopped his pacing, swallowing thickly. He knew what that felt like, knew what that could do to a young man's self-esteem.
"I'm sorry, son, but I can't allow you to waste your time on frivolous pursuits," Bellamy said softly before allowing his voice to rise again, "If you're going to stay in that class, then you're going to work twice as hard as everyone else to make up for that, am I understood?"
Lincoln nodded, and then regained his place in line. That time with his mother was something he was unwilling to give up, and if Coach insisted that he needed to work harder, then that was exactly what he would do.
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Later that afternoon, Clarke pulled up at the football field to pick up her son. From the parking lot she could see him running laps around the field as the rest of the guys were headed for the locker room.
This puzzled her because Lincoln usually never got into trouble during practice. He'd never had to run laps for Kane, so she wondered what he'd done to warrant the punishment.
She waited fifteen minutes, finally seeing him heading her way with his bag slung over his shoulder. He looked tired; his steps slow and sweat still beading on his forehead.
She cranked up the AC, smiling as he climbed into the passenger seat.
"Hey Sport, how was practice?"
"Long," Lincoln said quietly.
"I saw you running laps. What was that about," Clarke asked as she put the old truck in gear and pulled out onto the small side street.
"I fumbled the ball a few times," Lincoln lied.
Clarke looked over at her son, knowing there was something he wasn't telling her. However, the firm set of his jaw told her that now was not the time to press him.
The rest of the drive home was made in silence, Lincoln staring out the window and Clarke's worry growing. When she stopped in front of the house, her son quickly exited the truck and made his way inside and up to his room without a word to anyone.
"What was that," Raven asked as Clarke came through the front door.
"I think he had a bad practice. He was running laps when I got there," the blonde said, her gaze still fixed on the vacant stairs.
Raven shook her head, turning her gaze to where Wick and AJ were sprawled in the living room floor, Legos spread out before them. They were in the middle of building the tiny replica of Anakin's Jedi fighter, both wearing identical expressions of intense concentration as they studied the instruction booklet.
She glanced over to find Clarke staring at the scene, a sad smile curving her lips.
"He never would have had that," Clarke said quietly, her blue eyes lifting to her friend's face, "I'm so thankful that you found Wick. He is so good with both of my sons and I'll be forever grateful to have known both of you."
Raven felt tears burning behind her eyes, clearing her throat to speak, "You didn't deserve what happened. That was his fault and he's the one that's missed out."
"Sometimes I hate him for what he did," Clarke said thoughtfully, "But then I see AJ, and I know that I would do it all over again. If I'd never met Finn then I wouldn't have either of my sons, and that to me would be unbearable."
Just then AJ spotted his mother, a huge grin lighting his face as he waved.
"Hey Mom, look what me and Uncle Wick are building," the little boy said excitedly.
"I see that," Clarke answered with a smile, "Are you two Jedi engineers about ready for supper?"
"Yes mam," the two said in unison.
"Ok then, I'll see if I can't rustle up some grub," the blonde said before making her way to the kitchen.
After the sun had set, the dishes were cleared, and the house was quiet Clarke set about her nightly bedtime routine. She started off in AJ's room, tucking him in and letting him read her a chapter of his library book.
She closed the worn copy of Frindle, placing it on the nightstand and pressing a kiss to her son's forehead before ruffling his hair.
"Goodnight buddy," Clarke said before turning off the light and closing the door lightly behind her.
She went to Lincoln's room next, knocking lightly before entering. She found her eldest laying on his back, arms pillowed behind his head, and his dark gaze boring into the ceiling.
He looked over as she came in, a small smile curving his lips.
"Hey Mom," Lincoln said as his mother sat down on the edge of his bed.
"Hey sweetie, you ok," Clarke asked, the worry evident in her blue eyes.
Lincoln nodded, "Yeah, I'm fine."
Clarke studied his features, knowing that her oldest was not being truthful. She sighed, running a hand over his short hair drawing his gaze to her own.
"You know you can tell me anything right," Clarke said, her hand moving to caress his cheek.
Lincoln leaned into her touch, closing his eyes and allowing the stress of the day to fade to the back of his mind. He knew he could talk to his mom, but he didn't want to worry her with this.
"I know," he said, "It's just taking a while to get used to the new coach."
"If he's not treating you right, you tell me Lincoln Isaiah and I'll handle it," Clarke said, the mama bear timbre in her voice causing her son to smile.
"I know, Mom, but it's fine. Really," Lincoln said, squeezing the hand that now lay on his shoulder.
"Alright, goodnight sweetheart," Clarke said rising to leave.
"Mom," Lincoln said.
"Yeah, baby," the blonde said from the doorway.
"I love you."
"I love you too, my precious boy," Clarke said softly before turning out the light.
Thanks for reading! Please drop me a review! They really inspire me to keep going! Oh yeah, btw, if y'all really want me to I may give y'all the chapter you've all been waiting for- the Bellamy/Clarke confrontation! :)