Chapter 12
His lips are surprisingly soft, and warm, and conveniently sweet from the berries he has to have had for dinner, and it's all too much - the taste and smell and closeness of him send a wave of heat coursing through my body. I can feel the blood rushing to my head, to my cheeks. I can feel the electricity, and the chill it sends down my back. All of my senses are suddenly accelerated, I can feel it all, all at once. Maybe it's because it's been a while since I've last kissed another person. Maybe it's because I've been starved for this kind of contact and human touch. God knows why it is, but I kiss him back without question.
Until I do question it.
Stop.
I pull back, the act of parting from him causing almost a physical ache, though only for a fleeting moment.
What are you doing? Assess the damn situation. You obviously have some sort of weird crush on the one dude that you shouldn't have a God damn crush on. I mean, if this was any hundred year old TV show, this guy would be the popular jock that ends up being prom king despite being an all-around asshole. You hate those guys. And on the other hand, he's obviously just being Bellamy Blake. You wouldn't be the first nor the last to end up in his tent. That's what he wants - casual sex. And on any other day you wouldn't mind that at all. Casual sex can be great. But now you have this weird crush on him. Which complicates things. So once the sex is done you know you'll feel like crap. Don't do it. Do. not. do it.
''I'm sorry, I-,'' I start, but don't know exactly what to say.
''No, um, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to- you know- just-,'' he kind of stutters.
''It's okay,'' I offer a smile, ''I'm just- You're great and all but I'm just not... into that-''
''No, I get it,'' he shakes his head.
''There's another forty or something girls in this camp and most would probably jump at the opportunity so,'' I place a hand on his shoulder with a smile, ''Have fun.''
Just as I'm going to leave on that note, his hand clasps my arm, and he says:
''It's not like that.''
He seems almost... bashful? Maybe a tad bit regretful. His eyes are soft and he seems so honest, naked almost. Why? Have I hit some nerve I don't know about?
''Hey, I don't judge, really,'' I smile still.
''I didn't kiss you with any intentions,'' he says, ''I just kissed you.''
''Oh,'' I only say. Because what in the world do you say to that? And coming from Bellamy Blake's mouth? Looking dead honest? What am I even supposed to do with that information?
''I obviously shouldn't have done that, so I'm sorry,'' he finally says, ''I'm gonna go check on the boys.''
And then he leaves before I can really say anything more and I literally just stand there stunned and stupefied, having no idea what in the world just happened.
Fuck. What was that?
Fuck. He kissed me out of the blue. He just did it. I wasn't prepared for it. And I've seen what he does for fun around here. I don't need that between us. And you can't blame me for assuming what he wanted. How could I have known what the hell was going through his damn head anyway? Bellamy Blake doesn't just kiss a girl because he likes her and keeps it at that. Which is fine. I just don't want to allow anything to further try and complicate my life here.
Wait, do I even know Bellamy Blake?
Whatever. Don't think about it. You don't need this now. You don't need this stupid crush and you don't need to be thinking about whether he may like you back because who the hell cares? We're trying to survive, for fuck's sake. First things first. Grounders won't care if you like a boy once they try to turn both of you into dust.
Besides, he doesn't like you back. That's a reach. I mean, whatever that thing that just happened meant, he's still Bellamy Blake for God's sake. It's Bellamy Blake.
I go to take a hard earned nap, but find myself thinking about Bellamy for too damn long, which in turn only makes me angrier at myself.
*
The next couple of days go by surprisingly well and trouble-free. Octavia and I seem to have at least normalized our relationship, if nothing else. I'm not her favorite person in camp just yet but we do a lot of work together and it proves to be pacifying. Busy hands, peaceful mind.
I get to talk to my parents for a couple of minutes on a daily. Most kids with parents do, which seems to positively affect the general mood at camp. The radio works flawlessly when the weather is calm, and I get to reassure mom and dad that I'm safe every day, which lifts one piece of the burden off my back. We even manage to scrap up a screen soon enough, so I can actually see them while we talk. I don't think I appreciate enough how blessed we are to have Raven and Monty.
I don't give my parents too many details concerning the Grounders they've heard about. I talk about hunting and food gathering and how we're doing well and working hard and managing okay. We will surely make better shelter to ride out the winter too. We're fine. That's what I like to focus on while talking to my parents. I definitely don't want them to know the things we've already done here that would take quite some time to wash our hands of. I don't want them to know what we did to John, and how we exiled him, and how it was my hand that brought about his demise. I don't want them to know the real story of little Charlotte, or details of any of the Grounder-induced deaths, and I don't want them to know that we're keeping a human being chained up in the Drop-Ship after torturing him horribly for hours. And I definitely don't want them to know that I've approved of it. I don't want them to know that their beloved little daughter is now capable of certain things. Not just yet.
Bellamy and I behave like nothing has happened over the course of the few days, but whatever I'd felt before and when he kissed me seems to have multiplied after. It's hard talking to him the way we usually did without my insides setting themselves on fire. And it isn't even because of my stupid crush, or whatever it is. Things are just different. I'm not all flustered because I like him, but because it all confuses the hell out of me. Something o simple as a kiss, whoever from, could never deter me this much. No, that isn't what's driving me crazy - it's the not knowing. It's the mystery of it all that drives me nuts. I want to know what he's thinking. I hate not knowing. I hate not being in control.
With the Grounder still in our custody, I can't see our options from here on out. Bellamy has decided not to kill him, but we can't hold him forever either. And if we released him, chances are he'd come back with a small army. He's seen exactly where we are, how many we are and what we have in our camp. It's beyond frustrating, this kind of not knowing what to do. It's like there are no good options, and our hands are completely tied. And Grounder or not, keeping a man chained up like an animal is not something that sits well with any of us. Well, except Miller. I feel like Nathan Miller wants revenge more than anything in the world. Maybe because it has fallen upon him to break the news to the parents of all the kids that have died.
Every day that passes brings colder weather. Clear, cloudless, but cold. Winter is surely coming, and our fantasies of shelter that I sung like a little bird to my parents are not going to keep us alive once it does. We all know we'll have to step up our game. We can't all be cramped up in the Drop-Ship all winter long. It's a recipe for about a dozen different kinds of disaster.
That thought makes me think of John. Is he even still alive? He's smart, and resourceful, and resilient above all - but there are worse things in the forests than he could have ever dreamed of before. And if he is still alive somehow, will he stand a chance against winter out there alone?
''You're up,'' Monty tells me as he carries a bag of nuts past me.
''What?''
''Your dad's on the line!''
I all but run to the radio tent.
''Hey, dad,'' I grin.
''Hey, sweetie,'' he replies almost as excitedly as the first day he got to talk to me, ''How's everything going?''
''Fine. We're getting a little cold, but we're hard at work so it's keeping the blood circulating,'' I chuckle to put him at ease - I know he always worries, ''How about you? How's mom?''
''We're fine. Mom's fine, just really busy today,'' he says, ''There's rumors Jaha found this emergency aid depot for you guys? Got the coordinates this morning, supposedly.''
''Really?''
''Maybe it's worth checking out,'' he shrugs, adjusting his glasses. God, I've missed that. It's funny how you come to miss the smallest, most insignificant things about people.
''I haven't seen Clarke in a while now, she probably knows something,'' I reply, ''I'll let you know. But don't make mom worry, okay, dad? We'll figure something out. We're too stubborn to freeze to death, I promise.''
''Sure, honey. You were always a tough cookie,'' he grins, and I'm suddenly overflowing with affection. I want to hug him. The screen and the ability to see them means so much.
''We could really use your survival skills around here, dad. You're probably the only one left on the Ark that could make a decent bow from scratch. A bow and arrows would come really useful right about now,'' I muse.
''Well, I taught you the way your grandpa taught me. Try,'' he shrugs again, ''I gotta go, sweetie; there's other parents waiting.''
''Okay. Bye, dad!''
''Take care, sweetheart.''
I think about this. The Grounders have a century on us but we still remember some things. My grandpa was born on the Ark, but his father was a Grounder. Before the bombs that had wiped out the human civilization, archery was supposedly just one of his hobbies. Dad always spoke of his grandfather with so much pride, about how he was a peaceful man, about how he lived as one with nature, about how he handed over that respect for the Earth to the generations to come, which explains a lot in my dad actually, knowing he's never known anything other than the Ark, yet he loves the Earth almost irrationally. When I was younger, it wasn't exactly easy for me to understand.
I guess I can grasp some of it now - I couldn't imagine moving back to space after experiencing Earth, even after experiencing the worst of it. I guess it only now makes sense why I always felt confined, even before the Skybox. The kind of freedom only Earth can give you - it's priceless. And it's worth the bad side-effects. That's what's so terrifying about it. No matter what it throws at you, you still fight for your right to be on it. You still want to be here.
We didn't exactly have a lot of expendable material back on the Ark, especially lumber. We recycled endlessly. It's so strange to think about the Ark now, about the times when all resources were scarce ad we didn't even think much of it most of the time because it was so normalized. Now, you're surrounded by resources. Earth will give you everything you need as long as you know how to use it.
Grandpa worked in the Factory Station though, so he could always scrape up some odds and ends for me. He taught my dad how to make a bow when he was young, and then my dad tried to teach me when time came - like a little family tradition. Most would have agreed the knowledge was useless. That didn't matter - I think grandpa was just trying to keep his father alive in a way, and protect a little bit of his legacy, and the last traces of our old home. I remember having fun, but being too young to actually learn any of it well.
Suddenly it hits me just how valuable knowledge is, how we could pay with our very lives for every bit of loss of it that we've allowed. If we had the vast survival knowledge that my great-grandfather ironically had only as a damn hobby, we wouldn't be worrying about dying so much.
Pushing all these thoughts aside, I spot Dax entering the tent, and decide to go find Clarke.
*
''Hey, you guys seen Clarke?'' I ask Monty and Jasper, who are now cracking open and sorting the nuts we've gathered. And frankly, eating most of it.
''I think she took off with Bellamy,'' Jasper replies through a mouthful.
''When?''
''Like two minutes ago,'' Monty offers, munching on a nut himself.
''If you guys keep on like that, we won't actually have any for the winter,'' I laugh.
''We'll all freeze to death anyway,'' Monty shrugs before Jasper throws a nut at me. I catch it just barely with my left hand and put it in my pocket, deciding to leave it for later.
In the Drop-Ship, Finn is still in bed, though now able to sit up a bit. Raven is still next to him, like a nurse and a bodyguard all in one.
''Seriously, Finn. Just lying around in bed while we're busting our asses working,'' I joke, making him grin.
''Don't forget to mention being tended to by pretty ladies,'' he adds.
''Well, enjoy your privilege, because you're not getting out of that bed any time soon,'' Raven retorts with a smile.
''Feeling better?'' I ask.
''Yeap,'' Finn says, ''Which is exactly why I don't understand why I'm still in this bed.''
''You're not fit for work yet, Finn,'' I tell him on a more serious note, ''Your wound hasn't fully healed yet, as much as it feels like those stitches have it all together.''
''Crap, not you too,'' he says exasperatedly.
''He thinks Clarke and I nag him,'' Raven grins.
''I think he deserves it,'' I laugh, ''Anyway, you guys know where Clarke and Bellamy went?''
''Some small assignment from the Ark apparently,'' Raven says, ''Clarke said it's nothing to worry about. They'll be out all day though.''
''Just the two of them? That's overly-confident,'' I frown. Finn looks like he couldn't agree more.
''Yeah, well,'' Raven shrugs, ''She said it's minor.''
The depot? But why would they keep it a secret? Maybe it's avoid the disappointment of the camp should they find the depot isn't there. I probably wouldn't want to risk getting their hopes up for nothing either. I choose to comply, and help keep it on the low for now.
''You need any help around here?'' I ask Raven.
''No, don't worry, I can handle re-bandaging a wound,'' she smiles, ''But thanks.''
''I'll leave you two then.''
*
I decide to follow up on dad's advice and try to make a bow. Not counting the hour that it takes me to actually pick the right branch, it takes me another three hours to actually turn it into a decent recurve. I'm glad I still remember the steps. It turns out awkward and rough but frankly better than I expected. I make one arrow as quickly as I can just to test it - it flies far enough, but the precision is terrible. I blame it on the unfletched arrow as much as on the bow that needs more curving to be actually reliable. The thin nylon rope from the Drop-Ship isn't ideal either. Not to mention I last got to shoot a bow when I was thirteen. I remember mom always freaking out about trying it indoors, and even more about being caught with a weapon. ''It's not a toy!'' she'd yell.
Time flies by, and the next thing I know, the sun is down beyond the horizon. The days are growing ever so shorter, and it's an ominous reminder that we're falling behind.
*
I return to a camp full of wild kids in some sort of delirium.
It doesn't take long for me to realize they're high on something, and then to figure out they're high on the nuts. I pull the single nut out of my pocket and look at it, as though it'll give me an answer. Could something so small really cause sch chaos? People are laughing, crying, shouting, talking nonsense, dancing. Some seem to be just blundering about. Some are even taking their clothes off, as though they're too heavy. My breaths come out as steam now that the sun is down, there is no way in hell those clothes are ''heavy''. And I don't even want to look at the couples.
This is bad, real bad. Not just because the camp is a mess, but because we're vulnerable. If anything were to catch us unawares now, we'd be done for. And all thse kids need to be looked after and kept safe until they come down from this. I can't do it alone.
Luckily, I spot Octavia in front of the Drop-Ship, seemingly as sober as ever. I've never been more happy to see her.
''You seeing this?''
''The nuts,'' she replies, looking over the camp, ''Jasper just told me he loves me and I'm pretty sure Monty thinks he's Ariel the mermaid. We need to take care of them.''
''Yeah, no kidding.''
It's kind of scary, the whole picture. Almost a hundred people completely beside themselves.
Soon enough, Raven and Finn come out of their tent, also seemingly sober. ''I will assume you didn't eat the nuts,'' I say. Raven shakes her head in response, with a what-the-fuck-is-going-on-out-here look on her face.
''Okay, damage control,'' Finn says, walking over toward the first patient for the night. He's walking for the first time in days pretty much, except when he goes to pee.
It's a very, very long evening until the effects wear off. I end up holding Jasper's hand at some point as he cries I'm no longer sure what exactly about. Maybe Grounders. Maybe Octavia. Most likely Octavia.
Where the hell are Bellamy and Clarke?! If Grounders attack us now, they might take pity on the pathetic sight before them. This is too much for four people to handle.