not-feelin-it

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9 - bellarke

9. “My kid broke your nose, but you’re kinda hot”

Clarke had barely put her car in park when she threw her door open and ran to the field, still in her paint splattered overalls and messy updo that did absolutely nothing to make her look like the responsible single parent of a twelve year old. Monty hadn’t said much when he called her, only that there’d been an accident at Amanda’s soccer practice and Nate was a little busy trying to stop the bleeding to call her himself. Being the worry-wart that she was, Clarke automatically assumed the worst and hung up on Monty mid-sentence as she rushed out the door.

She was so relieved when she saw that Amanda was sitting on the bench looking relatively unscathed that it took the entire rest of the walk to the field for the confusion to kick in. Monty had said there’d been blood, and a lot of it, so where was it?

Once she reached her daughter and triple checked that Amanda didn’t have a scratch on her, she heard someone clear their throat from the other side of the bench. Clarke looked up to see a man holding a towel to his face, his eyes giving away a smirk she couldn’t see. “Your daughter’s got one powerful kick there. She could use a little work on her aim, though.”

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