Chapter 1

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"Here, Clarke," says Bellamy. His voice is deeper than usual.
"Alcohol?" I raise my eyebrows at the cup he holds in his hand.
"Not just alcohol," he replies, smiling from the side of his mouth. He takes a swayed step towards me. He's drunk. "It's well deserved alcohol. Monty whipped it up."
I laugh. His words are slurred and his face and cheeks are pink.
His face goes stern. "Clarke, you've been too serious about your job as a leader. We've got to celebrate our find!"
This afternoon, Bellamy and I found an old bunker. Inside was a large stock of guns and bullets.
I push his hand away. "Finding weapons is not a reason to celebrate."
Bellamy rolls his eyes. "We need to protect ourselves. You saw what happened to Jasper. The grounders sent a spear through his stomach for no reason, and then tried to use him to kill more of us."
When the dropship landed, it landed on the wrong mountain. With a few others, I went on an expedition through the forest to try to reach Mount Weather, where a supply of food and clean water awaited us. Just as Jasper reached the mountain, a grounder sent a spear through his gut.
The next day, we found him hanging from a tree, just barely breathing. As I tried to reach him, I almost fell into a deadly trap set by the grounders. Bellamy caught me just on time.
The grounders had placed a piece of seaweed over Jasper's wound— they needed him to be alive in order for us to follow his groans and step into the trap— which stopped him from losing blood and ended up saving his life.
"If you're not going to celebrate this, then celebrate Jasper's recovery," urges Bellamy. "Or the fact that we actually have our hands on alcohol, and no one can tell us we've had enough."
He does have a point. I've drunk alcohol before, but very rarely and when I did, it was limited.
"Fine," I huff, taking the cup from his hand. "But this is the only one I'm having tonight."
Bellamy grins, leans forward, and whispers into my ear: "That's one of the things I like about you, Clarke. You're a great liar."

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