Bellarke One Shots Book 2

56)This is war

twenty first birthday at a bar. Or a club. Or maybe even just at Bahama Breeze, where they can order some fruity drink and feel cool about it. That’s what most people would do.

But, much to Clarke Griffin’s dismay, Raven Reyes is not “most people.”

That’s why she finds herself listening to some drawling teenager probably making minimum wage list off the rules for laser tag while Raven bounces excitedly next to her.

“Isn’t this great?” Raven whispers. Clarke blinks, not even pretending to like this situation. The room is lit only with black lights, so she’s just relieved she didn’t wear anything white, or she’d be looking as ridiculous as Finn, dressed in a white tee.

“You get points by ‘tagging’ enemies with your phasers. Different areas of the opponent’s vest are worth different amounts of points,” the employee says, “When you get tagged enough, you’ll have to recharge, and you won’t be able to shoot until you do.”

“There’s not even a guarantee that we’ll be on the same team,” Clarke points out to Raven.

“So?”

Beside her, Lexa rolls her eyes. “Clarke just wants to find a reason to not have fun.” She smirks. “It’s what she always did when we dated.”

“I’m fun,” Clarke grumbles, but her ex’s words have done their job, and she shuts up.

“There are two power-up modes you can go into: deflector mode and energizer mode. When you’re in deflector mode every shot that hits you will affect the shooter. When you’re in energizer mode, shoot your team, and you’ll recharge them,” the employee recites.

Their group wasn’t big enough for a full reservation, comprising only of herself, Raven, Lexa, Wick, Finn, and Wells, so another (very loud) group stands in the ready room with them, wearing the beeping vests a bit small for people their age. Clarke very decidedly keeps herself from staring at one member of that group, a guy with messy black curls and muscles that somehow are still defined through his dark gray jacket, because drool doesn’t suit her.

“Could be worse,” Wells comments to her, “We could be with middle schoolers.”

Clarke gives him that much.

“Any questions?” the laser tag employee asks. Nobody speaks, because who could possibly have any questions about laser tag. “Alright, just remember, no running or tackling. Your teams should be up on that screen,” he says, pointing up at a large television at the corner of the dark room, “in a sec.”

“This is stupid,” Clarke mutters.

“Hey, princess!” comes a voice from across the room. Clarke’s head snaps up and her eyes meet the dark gaze of that hot guy, who is smirking at her. “Lighten up!”

Clarke’s eyes narrow. Alright, so the hot guy is also an asshole.

“See, even stranger guy agrees with me!” Raven teases, and their group laughs. Clarke looks over at the attractive asshole and mouths, “Go fuck yourself,” at him. He merely winks in response.

The television screen lights up with the teams, and Clarke finds her name first on a list that includes Wick, Wells, and three from the other group: Jasper, Octavia, and Nathan. Red team. She shoots Raven a forlorn look, but her friend is absolutely delighted by the turn of events, cheerfully fist-bumping Lexa and Finn, who are all on the blue team with people named Bellamy, Murphy, and Monty.

“Sorry about Bellamy,” comes an energetic voice from behind her. Clarke turns in surprise to see a brunette, probably a few years younger than her, smiling at her.