My locker was crammed with books. Thick stacks of textbook threatened to spill down and onto the floor, but I managed to wrestle out my AP Gov. book and slam my locker shut without causing an academic avalanche. I shoved it in my bag.

"Some girls have makeup in their locker, some have food or a spare coat. But Clarke Griffin . . . Clark Griffin has extra curriculum," Thalia quipped beside me. Today she wore a long, purple skirt that ended where her tan boots began. Her dark hair was pulled back into a high ponytail and the Guns and Roses logo I knew would be on her shirt was obscured by her jean jacket.

Compared to my torn jeans and unbrushed blonde hair, she looked like a rock version of Tinker Bell.

I scoffed. "Who needs an extra coat in Wyoming when you can have Basic Pathology?"

Thalia wrinkled her nose at that, but waved me off. She swept by me, a light skip in her steps. "Looks like Finn's got some competition." She cast a small wave over her shoulder. "I'll catch ya' at lunch," she told me before disappearing around the bend.

I sighed before turning in the opposite direction. I was halfway to my class when Principal Jaha stopped me in my tracks. It was a little hard for him not to; he was an imposing man, skin the color of ebony, his stern face devoid of any laugh lines that suggested he had little reason to smile.

A girl was at his side, her brunette hair brushed to one shoulder. Judging by her round face and height, she couldn't have been older than a sophomore.

Principal Jaha came to a halt in front of me, smirking like he was trying for that smile. "Clarke," he greeted me, dark eyes locking on mine from behind frameless glasses. He turned to the girl at his side. "This is Clarke Griffin," he told her, "One of our most prized students."

I tried not to squirm at that. Praise wasn't something I was comfortable with and the way he said it made me feel like I was a possession of the school's. Just because I buckled down and studied didn't mean I was something prized. Stubborn, maybe. But not prized.

I smiled at the girl. "Hi."

"This is Octavia, our newest addition to Arkadia High, " Principal Jaha continued, "And I was hoping, Clarke, that you wouldn't mind being her tour guide."

Well, it wasn't like I could say no. The halls were practically empty and "new students" was synonymous to new meat for a fair majority of girls looking for betas and guys looking to score.

I nodded. "Sure. Do you have your class schedule?"

Principal Jaha patted me on the shoulder. "Then I'll leave you to it." He headed back down the way he'd come and the girl-Octavia-handed me a folded piece of paper. I scanned over her name:

Octavia B.

"I see you're a freshman," I said, almost sadly. She wasn't just new to this school, she was new to high school. I was instantly grateful that I didn't leave her touring to someone else.

I smiled warmly at her. "English is this way," I said, starting down the now-vacant hallway. She stayed at my side, looking around the school like she was trying to memorize it. "Are you from out of town?" I asked. "Or just transferring from middle?"

Her blue eyes fixed back on me. "A bit of both. I lived here when I was younger but only . . . came back a few years ago." It was ambivalent, the way she said it and I caught a flash of something in her eyes, something I couldn't place the name of.

I made a sound of acknowledgement, not wanting to pry. I decided to switch topics. "So do you like it? Cheyenne?"

Octavia hefted her bag strap higher on her shoulder. "Yeah. Yeah, it's . . . okay. I mean if you like trees."

That got a smile out of me and we made a sharp turn at the end of the hall. "Did you know we have a state dinosaur?" I inexplicably chose to mention. I'd read somewhere that facts helped to quiet someone's anxiety by distraction. "And during the 1880's, we were the wealthiest city in the country? Even one of those Rocky films was shot in Jackson Hole."

Octavia looked at me with a mix of amusement and confusion, like she was trying to find something nice to say. "No," she seemed to settle on. "I didn't know that. Interesting."

It was evident that article was wrong.

But that didn't matter anymore. Already we were coming up to her first class and I stopped at the door. "Here's Honors English," I said, handing her back the schedule. "I'm on the other side of the building, but I'll just meet you here next period."

She shook her head quickly. "You don't have to do that. I have a-"

But I just held up a hand. "It's no big deal. Besides, I get the same free period as you. Then I can show you the rest of the place."

Plus, I thought to myself, Jaha asked me to be the one to do it. I may not have liked the praise, but that didn't mean I was willing to pull out of what I'd already agreed to do. At least I'd have another chance to improve my bedside mannerisms. It was clearly needed.

Octavia looked dubious but she acquiesced. "Then I guess I'll see you after."

I smiled again and waited until the door closed behind her before picking up my pace and running unceremoniously to my own class.

*******

Government lagged more than usual. It wasn't my favorite class, but it was beneficial. Yet that didn't make the lecture on cultural comparisons any more enthralling. It actually made me eager to leave and when the bell finally tolled, I exited faster than usual.

Octavia was waiting in the hall outside the door just as we'd agreed, her back to the window. Morning light streamed in, casting a long white patch onto the floor.

She caught sight of me and I waved her over. "So how was it?" I asked with enough enthusiasm to sound friendly but not creepy. Mannerisms, I reminded myself.

Octavia was looking around in that way again, craning her neck to see over the flood of people. "Oh, it was . . . fine," she said distractedly. "This school is a lot bigger than my old one."

"Which one did you attend?"

I swore, her eyes lowered at the question and she refocused on me. She suddenly grew hesitant. "Um, Walden."

It took me a second to make the connection and I forced my expression to remain neutral once I had.

Walden was that school, kept in such poor running shape that it was currently down in attendance by fifty percent. I remembered passing by that very school when I was younger, praying my Dad wouldn't send me there. It looked like something out of a war story; a great big box with stained, grey walls. The fence around it didn't make it any more appealing and on the night before I started middle school I even dreamed of myself on the other side of that gate, begging my Mom to come and save me.

But maybe that was all just misleading and the place was better on the inside.

"Did you like it there?"

Octavia gave me an incredulous look, one that confirmed it wasn't that misleading after all. At least now I could say with confidence, "I think you'll like it here. It's a good school."

She nodded and her gaze drifted around us again, as I we passed through the cafeteria and up a flight of stairs to the second floor. She looked out over the railings.

"Who're you looking for?" I finally asked.

Octavia looked sidelong at me and I read the uncertainty in her expression, in that worry line between the brows. "I think I'll let him find me. I don't want to be that kid just hanging around, you know?"

I didn't like that implication in her words. "Older boyfriend?" I asked, ignoring the urge to sit her down and discuss in monotone why older boyfriends in high school were a very bad idea. Not only from an emotional standpoint, but older guys were usually the worse kind. They were more experienced and, frankly, were more likely to use young girls to their own advantage.

But I didn't say any of that, especially when her face suddenly crumpled in disgust. She shook her head. "Oh, no. No, definitely not . . . that." She laughed. "It's just my-"

"O?"

For a blissful moment, I was completely ignorant of the man standing somewhere behind me. Then I turned around and my mouth popped open.

Black jacket. Brooding eyes. Arrogant voice.

Bellamy Blake was looking at Octavia and I honestly didn't recognize him for a second, not with the way he was smiling at her. A real smile. Not a smirk, nothing even close to mockery. It was a genuine grin that split across his face, showing both rows of teeth.

Octavia apparently reciprocated the feeling because she was smiling too and was near enough now to close the gap between them. She wrapped her arms around his neck while I stood off to the side, feeling both intrusive and very uncomfortable.

Only when they broke apart did Bellamy take notice of me. That smile wavered as his gaze found mine. It darkened like a brewing storm.

Octavia turned back to me, still grinning like she'd just received the world in the form of a six-foot degenerate. "Clarke," she said in a breathy voice, "this is my brother."