Fake Dating Blake

Chapter Nine

Bellamy was out of his seat in mere moments. By the time Clarke had pushed her own back and thrown a painstaking glare at her mother, he was already halfway up the stairs. His footsteps were heavy on every step, and each thud felt like a throb in Clarke's head. Her throat was dry; she didn't know how she was going to fix this. What little trust they had built between them over the last week, the feelings that were real, despite what he might say next; all of it was at risk. Clarke grabbed the bannister to help propel herself up the stairs after him. The door to her bedroom slammed hard, shaking the walls around it, but it didn't dissuade Clarke from her cause. She had to fix it, and she had to fix it now.

By the time she reached the landing, Abby was hot on her heels and coming up the stairs behind her.

'Clarke,' she hissed, motioning her back.

Clarke looked back at her over her shoulder and debated for a moment. She was angry. Like really, really angry. She wanted to give her mother a piece of her mind about many things; Harvard, pushing her own career, ruining her relationship – God, was there even a relationship there to ruin? She put her hand on her forehead and looked between her bedroom door and her mother. She settled.

'How could you do that?' Clarke demanded, though she kept her voice hushed. She marched over to her mother.

'Why doesn't Bellamy know about Harvard?' Abby retorted, furrowing her brows.

Clarke began to reply, but she stopped dead when she realized the reason Abby thought it was a good idea to speak so freely. To her, and her father and Maya and the Jahas too, Bellamy and Clarke hadn't only been together for about two days. It had been six months. That was avid time to prepare Bellamy for something as big as moving to Boston. In fact, it was ample time to decide whether they'd try and make it work long distance. Could they do that? Clarke pursed her lips. She was angry about a lot of things, and while her mother was one of them, the main issue she had with the whole thing was herself.

'I thought you would have talked about it. It's the kind of thing you mention when you're in a healthy relationship, and he seems to love your very much-'

'I just didn't tell him alright? It's only been six months, we're not talking about the rest of our lives here, and moving to Boston is a big deal, okay?' Clarke put her hands up and shook them. 'It doesn't matter. The point is that I haven't even decided if I want to go. I like Chicago; I love it. I love my apartment, my school. I love living with Raven and Octavia, and having Jasper and Monty and Miller and everyone close by. My life is there... and I love...'

She trailed off, swallowing, and glanced back to her bedroom door.

'Clarke,' Abby said gently. She touched her daughter's shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. 'Sweetheart. You can't put your future – one as bright as yours – in the hands of one boy.'

Clarke's gaze was stuck. Behind the door was Bellamy, whose heart she had probably damaged beyond quick repair. Sure, he'd get over it and move on, find another nice girl who didn't keep things from him, and he'd be happy. Clarke stretched her hands out at her sides; the thought of him being happy with anyone but her... She turned back to her mother, and looking at her with an ache in her chest, Clarke shrugged.

'What if he's the boy?'

Raven tried to block out the cries of the woman down the hall. Sitting in the clinically white building, where her mother had been admitted just a day earlier, Raven was struggling to wrap her head around how, exactly, she'd gotten to be there. What had she done wrong in a previous life to have to deal with all the bad stuff in this one? She was exhausted, running on barely any sleep, and all she really wanted was a steaming mug of coffee. Preferably Irish. It was inevitable that Finn would bring her one, and moments later he did.