Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

In her family, people did things. There was no such thing as idleness and there certainly weren’t any distractions of any kind, whatsoever. Her older sister rowed and did JROTC. Her father built companies. Her mother conducted research funded by grants that numbered into the millions as the cornerstone of a burgeoning field of study. In her family, people did not just do things. Rather, they did important things that held weight to them.

That was fine. Lexa did things too. She ran the school paper and lettered in track and field. She also volunteered at the library and took advanced classes, did mathematic bowl and debate club, headed the computer club and was secretary of Model UN. Lexa did lots of things, kept very busy, and despite a lacking social life, was moderately fulfilled by everything high school and her parents deemed vital for her survival. She was not crafted to carry the Woods’ name and worry about a thing like a social life.

Her sister did it all. She had the personality and desire to do that. She had lots of friends and everyone loved her. She was perfect, but in the not nerdy way, in the way that everyone enjoyed being near. Lexa wasn’t quite as well-developed. She just thought about things in a different way, and the only person that got it was Anya.

Throughout the school, she was unknown. She was seen as quiet and determined, focused in her studies and not much else. People who had her in their classes since kindergarten couldn’t even pinpoint when her birthday was or what she must have done after school activities, but they knew she was brilliant and almost nerdy if she wasn’t so polished and with the last name Woods.

Not many acknowledged the truth though– that Lexa Woods was, in fact, the largest nerd on the planet. She only learned that fact later in her high school career. She was quiet and smart and kept her head down in some ways. No one knew her and she wanted it to be like that, so that when she left that town, it wouldn’t hurt. She could start her life and everything would be new. She could be anything, not just Anya’s little sister.

That was why she studied and hoped and fought her way forward– to escape.

“Haven’t you read all of the books in the world already?” a booming voice interrupted her lunch novel as a tray took its place across from her at the empty table.

“There was more than four written, you know,” she countered, finishing her page, though slightly distracted.

“I read one once. It was terrible.”

“Spot Visits the Farm doesn’t count as a great literary work.”

“You’re funny,” the football player countered as he picked up the first of three giant sandwiches on his plate.

Lexa watched him take a big bite before returning her gaze back to her book, disinterested in talking to him for numerous reasons. He took it well enough, content to eat and support his lumbering, all-state linebacker frame.

And then the food ran out.

“So there’s–”

“We don’t have to do the whole friends thing,” she interrupted whatever was coming next. “I told you I’d tutor you, and the rates are lower than other people with lower GPA’s than mine, so we don’t–”

“Wow,” he chuckled. “You really need to lighten up a bit.”

“I know Anya asked you to look after me. I don’t need a babysitter.”

“She didn’t,” he lied, shaking his head as he finished his third milk.

If she didn’t think about it too much, Lexa liked Gus, the senior prospect with offers from real big schools that wanted to make his dreams come true. She liked that he was nice enough to sit with her, and he was probably dumb enough to actually think it was okay. She didn’t mind him much, and when he asked for tutoring, she knew she didn’t have the time, but she also knew she needed to be out of her house, and any other excuse was better than the quiet stifling that existed without her big sister.

But he represented something she just couldn’t understand. She did sports, she lettered in track and field, she had a letterman, never worn, neatly pressed in her closet at home. She just couldn’t understand everything that went with being a football player and not caring about grades or school or having hope in such a crazy future. He just… Gus had one plan for the next few years of his life, and it was simply to play football for as long as possible. She couldn’t understand it, and yet she envied it. There was a freedom he had that she couldn’t grasp, though she knew she wanted.

Thankfully, the bell rang before she could really dive into the psyche that led him to sitting with her.

“I’ll meet you in the library after practice,” she said as she gathered her books.

“Actually, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Can we go to Oscar’s? I really need to snack while my brain chows down on some numbers.”

“You’ll be distracted.”

“I’ll be focused.”

Lexa was untouchable with Anya as her sister and half of the senior class looking after her in some way, but she never put herself out there to earn invites anywhere like Oscar’s. She didn’t know how to handle that place.

“You’re buying snacks.”

“Perfect,” he grinned with a nod. “See you later.”

As he left, Lexa shook her head and sighed heavily, glancing around the cafeteria at the occasional glance of people inevitably wondering while she was talking to him. With a pursing of her lips, she adjusted the strap of her backpack and moved toward class.

Though the school year was fresh, the leaves were already falling and changing colors. Fall came in quickly, and the frost of morning could be felt throughout the day. Just a month in, and already a familiar rhythm came to the land. Preseason gradually led to football Fridays in which everyone lost their mind at games. Tests started to be administered. Grades began to form. Cliques melded and everything remained nearly exactly as it had been just the year before.

Except that there was something different about being a junior, Lexa decided, as she sat at the booth at Oscar’s after debate club, the table covered with her calculus book and a milkshake. There was something so very different and yet she couldn’t put her finger on it.

All at once, the dull noise of the diner magnified as a new herd of teens entered, fresh from practice and full of angst and hormones. For just a moment, Lexa watched them, oddly confused as to how she was the same age.

“Hey, sorry I’m a little late,” Gus greeted her, tossing his bags on the ground. “I’m just going to go order and then I’ll be ready, I swear.”

“No worries,” she smiled tightly, still wondering how she let her sister guilt her into helping him, and how said sister managed to get the dumb jock to ask and act as her guardian in her absence.

“Can I get you something?”

“Fries would be good. I’m starving.”

“Tough night in debate club?”

“Definitely,” she agreed, not noticing his joke.

With a shake of his head, he moved toward the counter, leaving Lexa to survey the diner and the new bodies that filled it up. All at once they seemed to descend. A gaggle of theater kids hung dramatically in the back booth, laughing loudly and reciting lines to something. Some burnouts who liked to smoke from old soda cans waited for food and giggled. A group of friends laughed and debated something serious. Football players filled a few tables while cheerleaders weren’t far. It was a little slice of their school, and Lexa really didn’t know where she situated herself within it. She was always just Anya’s kid sister, dragged along and ignored for the most part.

“It’ll just be a bit,” Gus interrupted the existential dread slowly forming in Lexa’s head as he took his seat across from her. “Let’s start with English, if that’s okay?”

“Whatever you want.”

“Apparently, colleges require writing samples.”

“Where are you applying?”

“I’m kind of waiting to see how the scouts go,” he shrugged, pushing around hair that fell in his eyes as he dug in his bag for a book and notebook. “Last season they said I needed to put on weight.”

“Really?” Lexa gasped slightly at the idea of the behemoth of a man not being big enough already.

“Yeah,” Gus chuckled. “So I put on a ton of muscle. I think it’ll help. Even a D2 school. Somewhere so I don’t have to pay for it. My mom couldn’t afford it, no matter how hard she tries.”

All at once, Lexa wondered how she could have misunderstood someone so fundamentally. And yet as she stared at him as if he were an alien, she felt even worse.

“We can definitely work on this stuff then. Whenever you want.”

“Don’t go looking at me like charity,” he warned. “I have an okay GPA, just remedial classes. I’m not dumb. I just have a reading thing where my brain works weird.”

“I do too,” Lexa shrugged.

“What?”

“I’m dyslexic. I mix up letters and stuff. It just means I work harder than most. No judgement here. You needed help and you asked for it,” she shrugged, nonplussed. “This keeps me out of the house and gives me a little extra cash. That’s it.”

“Alright,” he smiled and nodded.

“And you can report to Anya that you kept me from whatever it is she’s afraid will happen to me in her absence.”

“True.”

“Shut up. What are we working on?”

Just like that, they dove into Macbeth. Lexa enjoyed the challenge of teaching it to someone, and for the most part, he was only minorly distracted, which was a huge plus. Between friends asking questions and the team getting loud, Gus did his best to listen, and maybe even got into it after a bit.

This was who Lexa would become then, she realized, as no one still looked at her, and Gus introduced her to people she’d known for years through her sister, as his tutor. She was the nerdy tutor. And for a moment, in the middle of all the people, she was okay with that, because she had a role to fill.

“Okay, sorry for the wait,” someone interrupted a discussion about Banquo to put a basket of fries and drink to the side of their notebooks. “We got a little busy there. Fries and a Cherry Coke for the lady, and a double double with extra peppers and onion rings for the little man. Can I get you guys anything else?”

“I think this is good,” Gus smiled.

“I didn’t order a drink,” Lexa stared at it before looking at Gus and then finally at the waitress.

“I know,” she smiled, wide and blinding. “But you just seemed like a Cherry Coke kind of girl. On the house.”

“Thanks Clarke,” Gus offered when all his tutor could do was gape and push up her glasses as she stared.

“Yeah, no problem, big guy.”

The waitress stole a fry and offered a wink before disappearing.

“Thank you!” Lexa finally blurted, loud and awkward and all at once to the retreating figure, who politely offered another smile over her shoulder.

For just a moment, she tried to recollect her wits. She stared at her cup before eagerly taking a sip. She’d never given Cherry Coke much of a thought, but the waitress was right or Lexa was having a stroke and she didn’t know it. Either option.

Gus’ chomping and general inhaling of his food brought her back to reality. She met his eyes and he wiggled his eyebrows and smirked. Lexa felt the tips of her ears burn as she sought a sly glance at the waitress before snapping her eyes back to the task at hand.

“That’s Clarke. You met her before?” Gus pressed between bites.

“Um who? What? Yeah, no. Yeah I don’t think so,” Lexa shook her head and furrowed, focusing intently on the lines of Shakespeare that turned to mush in her brain. “She new?”

The question was too casual and too interesting to her to play it off as such, though she tried her best.

“She came last year. Her dad’s some government contractor and they moved. She does cheerleading with Octavia.”

“Who?”

“My little sister? You really are as clueless as Anya said,” Gus chuckled. “You just hang out with your little weirdo friends and junk, not even giving the rest of us a second thought.”

“Basically.”

She wanted to argue, but she really couldn’t. Instead, Lexa just watched the waitress smile at the counter to some group that waited for milkshakes. Blonde hair tied up in a ponytail, shirt unbuttoned slightly and sleeves rolled up, she dug in her apron for a straw and handed out drinks like a pro. She had dimples, which were something, and she had eyes and a nose and cheeks and Lexa knew all of that, but couldn’t put it all together. Instead, she just shook her head and looked away because she didn’t have enough brainpower to process this stranger’s existence in the world.

How she never noticed her before was beyond her, though last year she spent a lot of time deep in the books and with her little group of friends making silly movies. That would explain a lot of it. And all of a sudden, she regretted every minute of not knowing a girl like that existed.

“Okay, enough,” she whispered to herself. “Let’s finish so I can get out of here.”

“Alright,” Gus chuckled again, for no reason at all.

Lexa had friends. Well, she had a friend. A best friend, since first grade. The better way to phrase it was that she had acquaintances. There was never a shortage of people to talk with and hang out with, but it was never really deeper than that. She was an afterthought when it came to invites. She wasn’t anyone’s group.

Except for maybe her sister, and definitely Luna. Despite going to different schools, they were the only real constants the other had. For Lexa, it was not on purpose, she just didn’t connect well and knew it. For Luna, it was by choice. She was the edgy angry outsider at the private school her parent’s picked. She loved it.

“We’d have to go up there really early to set up, or the night before to shoot,” Lexa explained as she flipped over her notebook and began furiously jotting notes. “I don’t think I’ll have time for a couple weeks, honestly.”

“You never have time,” her friend rolled her eyes. “We’ve been putting this together for the past three months.”

“Tutoring helps pay for this movie, and you know how my parents are.”

“But still. This movie is supposed to be our entry for film school. Or have you changed your mind about that, too?”

“I haven’t,” she sighed, fiddling with her pen. “But I haven’t told them yet.”

“We have to get started on this. It’s taken two years to write the script.”

“I know, I know.”

For a moment, Lexa looked at her friend and felt infinitely guilty. They’d been doing this stuff for years now, having fun, dreaming of the future, and most importantly, dreaming of getting out of that town and their names and it all. She was spread too thin, and all she wanted to do was hang out.

“Let’s pick a weekend then. We’ll go camping and get as much as we can. We can do it in segments,” Luna offered, realizing she’d been a little harsh.

She grew up knowing the Woods clan, and she knew how hard the expectations met her friend. And they had the time, just not much of it.

“We’ll just make the most of what we have,” Lexa nodded, smiling slightly. “If we can make a horror movie with a point and shoot little camera, I’m sure we can do this.”

“I stand by that film,” Luna chuckled.

Lexa didn’t have much time, but she knew how to spend it, and sharing a pizza and filling notebooks with the ideas for how to shoot and do their movie was probably one of her favorite ways. Inevitably, it turned into just catching up and life, and it was what Lexa needed.

As much as she found herself around people, they weren’t people who knew her. She spent time with Gus, and liked him enough. They might be friends. She hung out with a few girls from track from time to time. It was never someone who just knew her, or that she told things, important things.

“Hey, you guys look busy. Here’s a Cherry Coke for the professor, and a Sprite for her associate,” the waitress interrupted.

“Oh, we didn’t order anything,” Luna shook her head.

“I know,” she smiled, unfazed. “Just looks bad if you don’t. So i figured I’d save you the trouble. Can I get you anything?”

“No thanks.”

“Um,” Lexa swallowed and starred, pushing up her glasses. All manner of earthly beauty and smoking hotness just cocked her head and waited. All she could do was sip her drink.

“I’ll let you decide. Flag me if you need anything?”

“Um.”

“Yeah, sure,” Luna said for them.

Lexa stared as she walked away, nearly certain that she earned a wink. The waitress was just a waitress and she was just being nice to get tips. Those words flashed in her head. They didn’t stop the sputtering lungs or the dry mouth.

“You okay, Lex?”

“What? Yeah. Of course. I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?” she shook her head quickly, sitting up a bit straighter.

“I don’t know, because you’re a bumbling mess near that waitress,” her friend teased.

“I wasn’t.”

“Do you know her?”

“Who? Her? No. Not… I haven’t been… Gus introduced us once maybe. I don’t know. I tutor here. She works here.”

Lexa did her best to look back at her work and not follow her friend’s glance to the waitress across the diner. She failed miserably.

“You have a crush on the hot waitress. You know who that is right?”

“Clarke.”

“Yeah,” Luna chuckled. “That’s the head cheerleader and ex of Bellamy Blake.”

“The college star?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh,” she swallowed, her heart plummeting. “Explains why Gus knew her.”

“She seems to like you though,” her friend recognized, shamelessly watching. Lexa perked up slightly though she didn’t want to know that. “I’ve seen her look over like three times.”

“Shut up.”

“This is going to be the best.”

On most nights, Lexa was exhausted by the time she made it home. Junior year was enough to run her ragged, and she was rarely that upset about her schedule. Her parents seemed to like it, and that kept them quiet.

The beginning of school gradually eased into fall, which hinted at winter. The yard was raked and the trees were bare at their house in a nicer neighborhood on the edge of Cherry Street. Nothing really changed though inside. Most of the time, Lexa came home to a near empty house. Most of the time she grabbed whatever was labeled and prepared by the housekeeper. Often, she ate it alone, only seeing her mother or father in passing.

It wasn’t that they were forgetful or neglectful, just that they were busy, and they weren’t going to let a little thing like family ruin their careers and dreams and aspirations. Lexa didn’t hold a grudge.

They always saw her at some point during the day; they made that effort.

“What are you working on, kid?” her father paused at her door and popped in quickly as she dug her hands into her eyes to get the tired out.

“I didn’t hear you come home.”

“Just got back,” he smiled, tugging on his tie and dropping his bag in the hall before meandering in and sitting on her bed. “I left some of those candies you like while I was in Tokyo. They’re downstairs.”

“Thanks. How was it?”

“Rainy,” he grunted, laying down on her bed and rubbing his eyes in a similar way, earning a smile from his daughter.

Tall and broad and fit, Archie Rutherford Woods IV, had a smattering of salt and pepper around his temples. After a long, busy week, he wore it on his cheeks and below his eyes, though it never slowed him down. There’d been moments, as a kid, where Lexa remembered him building their jungle gym and coming to track meets. And then he got busy or something. It never stopped her admiration though. She was born with understanding and low maintenance.

With a big stretch and grunt, he melted slightly and turned toward the desk his daughter worked at and smiled.

“Is that the scenes from the new movie you shot up at in the mountains last week?”

“Yeah,” she nodded and sighed. “I just don’t have enough time to work on it anymore.”

“That’s how hobbies work. Look at me. I don’t have any,” he chuckled, amused at himself. “You have a track meet this week?”

“Away, in Thomasville.”

“I’ll see if I can make it.”

Lexa smiled to herself, slightly amused at that line, the same she’d heard many times growing up, and especially in the past few years. He wouldn’t be there. He’d probably be in Beijing or Berlin or something.

“Thanks for the candy, Dad,” she offered.

“Yeah, of course,” he smiled, kissing the top of her head as he pushed himself back toward the doorway. “Don’t stay up too late, okay?”

“Okay.”

With no other noise at all, he was gone, and Lexa was left alone again. She slipped her headphones back in her ears and she went back to editing. It lasted about ten minutes before she pulled up the other browser that was shamefully minimized.

Quickly, before she opened it, Lexa looked around her empty room, strained her ears, and tried to hear anything in the quiet of the house. Satisfied that she was alone, she kept scrolling through Clarke’s pictures.

Luna had been right about the cheerleading thing. She’d been right about Lexa’s ridiculous crush, too, though she was less eager to admit that part. Lexa felt her heart fall into quicksand again when she saw Clarke kissing a boy in a post from the previous year. It jumped to her throat when she saw Clarke on a boat, in a bikini with a lot of friends.

Lexa allowed herself exactly two minutes of shameless crushing before she decided to exit. Or at least she’d tried to exit.

“Hey, Lexa, honey, have you seen my blue bag?” her mother called from down the hall.

In a flailing move, Lexa thought she exited, but clear as day, she stared at the screen, horrified and beyond repair, at the fact that she’d liked one of the waitress’s pictures from eleven months ago. Struck dead by the move, she decided to never breathe again.

The morning after the fateful like, Lexa didn’t want to look at her phone. Two options awaited her: either Clarke had seen the like and ignored it, or she hadn’t seen it and the terrible feeling of embarrassment and mortification would linger even longer.

And so, when faced with those two options, she just stared at the ceiling as she laid stone still in her bed and wondered how close to death she existed.

The blaring of the alarm didn’t even make her jump. Lexa reached over and silenced the clock on her nightstand and finally rolled over, staring at the offensive object that she wished had died since she refused to charge it.

With no such luck, the phone blinked on with an email notification. Without looking and looking at the same time, Lexa saw that there were more notifications. Her heart sped up as if she were sprinting.

But she would just look and maybe it was nothing. More than likely, actually, she told herself. More than likely nothing happened at all, and the pretty waitress wouldn’t notice that she was snooping deep into her old pictures.

With a bit more pumping up of herself, Lexa finally picked up her phone and opened it without seeing any notifications. She opened it and started, quickly responding to a text from her sister and best friend. She looked at a few emails. She scrolled for two seconds on a few other apps. And then she couldn’t fight it any longer, and she opened Instagram. Her body in knots, she stared at the screen as it loaded.

Waiting for her a new follow notification and the girl she’d been lurking, and a like on a picture from about a year ago, of Lexa on a weird camera rig on a bike in a neighborhood across town working on a silly little movie.

Lexa wasn’t sure what it meant, but she was certain it meant something.

Chapter Text

There is always something to the feeling of being awake before dawn, hopping on a plane, and spending sunrise in a new city that makes someone feel almost as if they’d been reborn. For just a little while, they have the capacity to be what they want and to feel as if they old reality has been shucked away in favor of possibilities.

Lexa mulled it over form 30,000 feet in the air. Her life followed her as best it could, though it failed to keep up with the plane. Her parents’ eagerness for her to go to a good school, to their school, her best friend’s excitement over their new idea, her school work and the growing pile that never seemed finished, and the girl who now liked everything she posted on social media, the very same girl that she saw in the hallways at school, the very same girl that moved in slow motions with a blaring guitar riff in Lexa’s head at every turn, the very same girl that brought her Cherry Cokes and then disappeared before Lexa could form words– all of that, the pile of thoughts and worries, they all valiantly chased the thin silver line the plane left in the sky, but all failed to keep up.

Almost.

Lexa scrolled and lurked on all manner of social media. That was where her fingers magically went when her mind was on autopilot. Clarke with friends at a party, Clarke at work, Clarke at home with her dog, Clarke fishing with her dad and looking downright more sexy than any fisherman ever had the right. Still, Lexa refrained from liking anything, now extra careful.

But with a sigh, she gave up and decided to let the plane carry her away from everything.

It took actual work to figure out a weekend to visit her sister, but by the time Lexa arrived at the university, she was both exhausted and relieved to have done it. As she stepped out of the airport, she zipped up her coat and smiled to find Anya waiting.

“I’m so happy to see you!” she squealed, hugging her tightly. Lexa just accepted it, not necessarily a fan of the contact, but happy to see her.

Quickly, Lexa found herself catching up with her sister and being given a brief tour of campus before they reached her dorm. She was swept up into her new life, and it was exciting and slightly heartbreaking to see her move on. But in the end, Lexa decided to go with relieved that she was happy and thriving.

There was a part of her sister that just understood Lexa better than most. Her parents could be demanding and thoughtless, self-absorbed, would be an apt descriptor. But Lexa was unassuming and hated disappointing people, despite how she might feel about it. Anya couldn’t stand for it, often shielding her younger sister, sticking up for her, helping her. Lexa knew that she weighed Anya down, and so to see her in her prime, to see her unburdened, that was a gift.

Their visit was much needed on both ends though. Anya missed her sister, missed the way her brain worked, missed the things she said, missed her in general. And so she had an entire weekend planned, eager to try to convince Lexa to apply to her school the following year.

They did lunch in a hole-in-the-wall a few blocks from campus. They went for drinks with friends at Anya’s favorite bar that didn’t card. They found 2 am pancakes and sat by the fountain eating them until dawn before slumping back to the dorm.

By the next day, Lexa was almost convinced to stay and live in her sister’s closet. Why go home when they could be this careless and free forever?

Saturday was spent at a museum before plans were made to go to a party on Frat row, something Anya was jittering to do. Lexa agreed only so she could meet the boy that her sister had been texting all day.

“Why are you still checking your phone? Luna can’t survive without you?” Anya teased.

“Nope, nothing. Yeah, sorry. No. What?” Lexa swallowed and sipped the almost warm beer from her red cup.

“Right,” her sister trailed off awkwardly. “Just let me know if this gets to be too much for you, okay?”

“Definitely. I’m okay.”

“Still.”

Lexa offered an awkward smile and nodded before her sister put her arm around her and wove them toward a different part of the house.

Three drinks in, and Lexa shook a stranger’s hand that her sister beamed at, and for a moment, she was very happy for her. He was nice enough.

Three drinks in, and Lexa’s cheeks were a little red when she smiled too big and almost spit out her beer when she locked eyes with a girl. It just stuck her in mouth, unable to swallow, unable to do much else except stare and then realize and then look away quickly.

Three drinks in, and Lexa said hello, blushing all over herself while her sister supervised, exchanging glances with her boy of the hour.

Four drinks in, courtesy of the girl with pretty brown eyes and a nose ring, Lexa sat beside her on the couch and found herself deep in a conversation about the films of the Coen brothers. She got cozy and stared at her lips and apologized. She posted a picture of said girl kissing her cheek with her red cup and drowsy drunk eyes looking right at her phone.

Lexa vaguely remembered five drinks in. She definitely didn’t remember the girl’s name, though she did recall her helping her type a message.

In the early afternoon, Lexa woke from her pallet on the floor and groaned as a Gatorade sloshed down beside her on the pillow. Her sister was already up, showered and dressed. Lexa was certain she was dying.

“I’m going to pretend not to be offended you didn’t tell me about Clarke Griffin,” Anya decided as she did her make-up in the mirror. The way she sang the name made Lex nauseous. “But you are telling me everything over lunch.”

“How– What?” Lexa swallowed thickly, struggling with the bottle before she let it flop to the ground in frustration, ready to die, as her head was surely exploding.

“I said,” her sister shouted, smiling to herself at the reaction she elicited, “you’re going to tell me about your little crush or else!”

The groan came mingling with a moan of misery on multiple levels, and upon hearing it, Anya took pity on her sister, opening her drink and chuckling to herself, proud to have earned her sister’s first hangover.

Graciously, as if she was just rescued from the desert, Lexa drank, simultaneously feeling better and worse.

“I mean, who tells a girl who is making moves about their crush?” Anya sighed as she returned to her task. “You had a college girl, who was cute, mind you, snuggled up on a couch, and you moon over Clarke Griffin.”

“Can you just smother me?”

“With questions, yes.”

A new groan joined the mix as Lexa sat up and pushed around her mess of hair. Her clothes were still on, and slightly askew and smelling of smoke. Her hand was stamped and the ink smudged around. She wiped at drool on her chin and caught a whiff of herself, which did not help the present situation of her dying body.

“Look at my little hungover angel,” Anya cooed, clasping her hands together sweetly. “You have an embarrassingly low tolerance though. I’ve cultivated an allure back at Northside, so you need to work on that.”

“For all the parties I go to,” Lexa cracked, drinking more.

“Go shower. I know the best cure in the form of food.”

“No drinking tonight.”

“It’s Sunday Funday.”

“I hate you,” she rasped, rubbing her hands along her cheeks before picking up her phone.

If she wasn’t nauseous already, Lexa felt her stomach clench and ready itself to climb through her mouth. She had multiple notifications and they all scared her to even open. In all honesty, she wasn’t sure what was making her shake more, the alcohol or the screen she stared at.

Ignoring her sister, Lexa opened her phone and wished she had more to drink. The picture she barely recalled posting was cute. Her cheeks were red and her eyes were dilated, obviously hinting at her state with the red cup. The girl who kissed her cheek was definitely pretty, and if Lexa remembered correctly, promised her that this was how she got a cheerleader to notice her.

To her credit, she was right.

CMU party with Anya means new couches to hide on with new friends.

She cringed slightly and scrolled through the comments which ranged from ‘nice’ to ‘didn’t know you had it in you’ to ‘damn girl get it’ to ‘your sister is still hotter.’

Lexa scrolled to see that Clarke didn’t like that picture, as she was now prone to do. But she did open the private message.

I was looking forward to seeing you at Tim’s tonight, but a college party with your sister is way more badass. I hope this means I’ll see you at the next one Gus invites you to though.

“Anya…” Lexa mumbled, frantically rereading it, desperately trying to decipher what the wink and grin emoji combination meant. Her sister kept talking to herself. “Anya… Anya!”

“What?”

“I… she… what does this mean?”

The absolute fear that took her sister’s eyes made Anya worried at first. And then she squinted and read the message before chuckling to herself.

“Let’s just say there’s no such thing as a nonsexual wink.”

That didn’t help her sister’s panic, and her eyes grew impossibly wider before looking back at the phone screen.

“So that party looked like fun,” Gus tried as he ate another fry and his tutor studied the words in a book that she already knew. “How’s your sister?”

“Talking to a shortstop.”

“Baseball,” he spat, twisting up his face. “Baseball?”

“You never had a chance, man.”

“I didn’t even want a chance,” he shrugged.

“Okay… “ Lexa shrugged, not caring about it in the least.

Instead, she picked up her phone for the fifth time in ten minutes, still slightly nervous to look, still surprised when Clarke responded.

She hadn’t spoken to her in person yet, and found herself oddly relieved when she wasn’t at Oscar’s for the tutoring session. An entire week had gone by in a blur, Lexa bouncing this way and that trying to schedule things with Luna, tutor, her life, and avoiding Clarke. But they chatted. On Thursday, they locked eyes across a hall. That was it. Instead, they messaged, and whenever Lexa got nervous, she remembered that it was better than talking in person.

She kept a running tally. Clarke called her cute six times. Mostly attached to ‘haha,’ as in ‘haha, you’re cute.’ It made Lexa have a heart attack every time. It was all innocuous, mostly chatting about classes, at least until the night before. Clarke asked about movies and even expressed interest in being in one, if she needed anyone to help. Lexa then ventured into something personal, which led to Clarke divulging stuff about her family. It was… it was worth being tired because they were up until four in the morning.

“Who was the girl?”

“Hm?”

“The girl at the party?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows and smirking.

“Just a girl I met while I was there. I don’t know.”

“You looked pretty cozy for not knowing.”

“We had a few drinks. That’s it. Can we start now?”

“Clarke asked about you.”

“Oh? I mean– oh?” she adjusted her word to sound less eager. It didn’t work. Gus played it up and pretended not to care, just as she’d done to her. “Shut up. Are we going to go over these notes or not?”

“I’m throwing a party after the game next week, if you’d like to come.”

“I can’t.”

“Plans already?”

“Yeah, actually.”

“Whatever. Like you’d miss a chance to stare at a cheerleader that you find dreamy.”

“I never said I find her dreamy,” Lexa snorted.

“Cute. You love her,” he sang. “You want to kiss her and touch her butt and–”

“Hey, sorry I’m late guys,” the person the song was about appeared, sliding a Cherry Coke in front of Lexa. “But it looks like Jenny took care of you.”

“Hi,” Lexa managed, mesmerized.

Clarke smiled at her as she finished pulling up her hair in the ponytail that seemed attached to her uniform. They’d sent probably a thousand messages to each other in a week, and yet Lexa didn’t have her number and couldn’t form words in front of the pretty cheerleader. Instead, she just stared and gawked and looked away with a blush.

“Hi,” Clarke giggled slightly and shook her head. “Y’all good?”

“Great, yeah, awesome. Fantastic,” Lexa nodded, too eagerly. Gus just watched for a moment.

“I was just inviting this party-animal to my place after the game,” the football player finally interrupted their quiet.

“You are going up to that cabin to film this weekend, aren’t you?” Clarke asked, furrowing at the news. “Or did that get cancelled?”

“Oh, yeah, um no. It didn’t. I’m not going to be here this weekend.” Lexa swallowed as Clarke leaned slightly, her hand on the back of the booth, close to Lexa’s shoulder. It was too much.

“I’m excited to see what you’re making though, even if its a bummer you’re going to miss this.”

“Yeah?”

“Definitely,” Clarke nodded enthusiastically. “I’ll let you guys finish up. Just wave me over if you need anything, okay?”

“Okay,” Lexa agreed. Clarke gave her that wink and escaped and her sister’s words repeated in her head.

For a moment, Lexa just watched her while Gus went back and forth between the two, smiling to himself. He wanted to tease, but he knew that if he did, Lexa would disappear into the floor.

“You should go for her. She likes you.”

“She doesn’t know me,” Lexa rolled her eyes and tapped her pencil. “She barely knows I exist.”

“You didn’t see her face when she saw you getting a kiss from a college girl.”

Despite herself, Lexa blushed, eager to ask more but knowing that she couldn’t without admitting how much she liked the waitress. Instead, she just looked over at the blonde once more and cleared her throat.

“Let’s get this over with.”

Even when she wasn’t in season, Lexa liked the feeling of running. She needed something to clear her head, and she needed something that got her out of the house. There was also something methodical and perfect about quantifying what her body could do. She liked disappearing and running, believing that she could run the entire way somewhere else.

Halloween decorations were still up despite being into early November. She didn’t mind them, though she always somewhat disliked seeing decorations in the daylight. Instead, she just ran, putting one foot in front of another, weaving her way across the city so that when she looked back at the path on her phone, it was never the same twice.

It was when she was running that she planned everything for the following day, for the week. Repetition helped her memorize what her life was supposed to entail. It was when she ran that she felt free of being in her sister’s shadow and her parents almost lack of parenting and more cohabitating. Lexa just had legs and she could run as far as possible for as long as possible.

That was how she ended up on the other side of town. The leaves fell from the tall trees that made a ceiling over the long street. Cars were parked here and there while fences when the whole way to the sidewalks, all very similar, yet different in their tiny ways. It was an old neighborhood, and the houses all had different personalities.

Her house was big and new. It didn’t house many memories, but it was built from hard work, that was what her parents said. Lexa craved the old homes with etched walls and scratched wood floors.

When she ran she generally looked but didn’t see. Her head was focused on pushing and running and not thinking, that she often didn’t take much else in. But this neighborhood, it was nice and a few miles from home, so she enjoyed taking it in, as if she were in a different world.

At first her head did a good job not thinking about Clarke. And then, of course, she congratulated herself, which led to thinking. Clarke talked to her about everything and anything, and that was easy through text. It was different when she saw her. She was beautiful, and confident, and funny, and hung out with people who didn’t know Lexa existed. They knew Anya’s kid sister. That was all.

But she messaged Clarke about things like movies and music, sharing songs and ideas. They talked about their lives, and for a small part of herself, Lexa tried not to message often, keeping it very one sided, less she be seen as crushing. She couldn’t afford a crush. For two weeks they chatted from time to time. For weeks, it was exhausting.

But Lexa thought about her and she couldn’t stop, which made her think she saw her in a yard. Lexa did a double take. The double take took her down as Clarke met her eyes and waved, smiling broadly. All at once, her legs weren’t moving, and she felt the cold of skinned knees and elbows.

For a second, the runner just laid there and waited to die. The sidewalk was soothing against her sweaty skin, and if she didn’t move, it didn’t hurt.

Of course, she had to move. Of course, she didn’t want to move.

“Hey, are you okay?”

“Just hoping I can die right here,” Lexa sighed, her eyes still closed for a bit longer. “You saw that, huh?”

“Yeah,” Clarke smiled.

With another groan, Lexa rolled onto her back and stared at the sky. The sidewalk was hard and her muscles were still humming with the feeling of sprinting away from life and her thoughts. All at once, they smashed into her, ready to catch up as quickly as possible.

“I’m not usually this clumsy.”

“I bet.”

“Hey. How are you?”

“I’m fine. Less bruised than you,” Clarke cocked her head, mildly amused. “Can you stand?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” the athlete nodded, looking at her knees and brushing her hands together to get rid of some of the grit. “Minus my pride. That’s pretty sore.”

Without meaning to, Lexa eyed Clarke’s hands. She debated her options and inevitably took them, heaving herself up, feeling every bit of ache. She perused her body, surveying the damage and testing out her bones.

“Come on, I have some bandages at my house.”

“Oh, I’m fine. Yeah. I should just… go. Yeah. I’m fine,” Lexa shook her head. All Clarke had to do was tilt her head and look down at the blood dripping down the runner’s shin before she sighed and gave into those eyes. “Alright, fine.”

It took a little maneuvering, but Clarke helped Lexa test out her body, helped her take a seat on her porch before instructing her not to move as she disappeared inside.

All Lexa wanted to do was be swallowed by the very ground itself. Instead, she just waited and stared at her raw palms, flexing them slightly.

“I didn’t know you lived around here,” Clarke ventured as she came out, arms laden with supplies.

“I, um, don’t,” Lexa swallowed. “I live over on Marigold Street, by the Mall.”

“That’s like five miles away.”

“Yeah.”

“Here,” Clarke smiled at the ambivalence, handing over a bottle of water. “Drink this.”

“I really am fine.”

“I’m sure you are,” she shrugged. “But I’m at least going to clean you up a bit before letting you back out there.”

There was little else Lexa could do. She just sipped the water and watched Clarke bite her lip as she poured some alcohol on a bandage. The sting came an instant later with Clarke’s apologies for it hurting, but Lexa didn’t want to hear it. She didn’t want hands to ever leave her skin.

“So how did the filming go?” Clarke asked, hoping to distract from the hissing and wincing from the skinned knees.

“Really good. Lots of editing to do.”

“You didn’t miss much at Gus’ anyway. I’m glad it went well for you.”

“I don’t really like parties anyway.”

“You looked pretty comfortable at that party with your sister,” Clarke recalled as she placed a bandaid on a knee. If Lexa was able to think, she’d have recognized jealousy. Of course, she’d never imagine Clarke Griffin of even thinking about her at all.

“A rarity, I promise. I don’t get asked much.”

“Yeah, you’re the strong, silent type, I think.”

“My sister says it’s always been like this with me. I just don’t know how to make noise. I don’t like lots of noise so it’s fine.”

The movements stalled and Clarke stared at the runner in the chair. Lexa met her eyes and had to look away quickly, instead inspecting her newly cleaned knees. She rubbed at her palm.

“You are one of the most interesting people I’ve ever met.”

“I don’t know if you’re having a laugh, or–”

“No, no, no,” Clarke jumped at the words. “I just mean… you are very interesting, Lexa.”

“I don’t know about that. I’m sure you know all of the interesting people at school. You’ve only been here a year and you’re head cheerleader.”

“I just like dancing,” she shrugged, finishing up her doctoring. “Everyone is kind of boring, if you ask me. The parties, the gossiping, the idea of it all. I can’t wait to get out of it. This isn’t the real world.”

“It’s real enough for now.”

“Yeah, I guess. There you go, Ms. Woods. All mended.”

“Thanks,” Lexa smiled quickly. “I don’t know what happened.”

“That sidewalk is notoriously tricky. Don’t worry. Happens to me all the time. Are you going to run home?”

“Yeah, probably.”

“Let me give you a ride,” Clarke offered, pushing herself up from the steps they occupied in the front of her house. “You went down hard, and I bet you’re more sore than you’re willing to admit.”

“I’ll be okay.”

“Lexa, we text a lot, and you’re afraid to have an actual conversation with me?”

“Yes.”

That was what Clarke liked. She liked the honesty. She liked the unassuming honest kind of words that came from the girl who adjusted her glasses too often and was a big old nerd. It was refreshing, and at the point she was in her life, Clarke needed something refreshing.

“Let me grab my keys.”

“Okay.”

Somehow in the course of two weeks, Lexa’s entire life had shifted so that she felt as if she were inhabiting a parallel universe. She went to a college party and flirted with a cute co-ed. She got very drunk and confessed a stupid crush to her sister. She filmed her movie, finally, in just forty-eight hours. And now, suddenly, she was bruised and sitting in the passenger side of Clarke Griffin’s old pick up truck.

None of it made any sense at all.

“Lexa, we’re friends,” Clarke offered after a few minutes and a stall at a redlight. “No need to be weird.”

“I’m pretty weird, if you hadn’t heard.”

“Should I listen to what people say about you, or should I listen to what I know?”

“What do you know?”

“You tutor Gus, and you do a pretty good job at it. You are in like fifty clubs and activities. Student government, AP classes, and you make movies with your best friend. Those are all pretty good things.”

Lexa nodded to herself as she looked out the window. There was something very foreign about being seen or noticed. She hadn’t expected Clarke’s words. Lexa hadn’t expected her life, in all honesty, but there she was.

“Are you flirting with me sometimes?” Lexa asked, unable to contain herself anymore. She looked over to see Clarke smile and blush. “Like, you wink at me, and you call me cute. The girl at the party said that if you liked me, you’d be jealous of the picture. And you didn’t like it. You always invite me out. And you bring me Cherry Cokes.”

“Yes. I was flirting.”

“Oh.”

“I can be more explicit, if you’d like.”

“I would, actually.”

Clarke pulled into the house that Lexa pointed to and put the truck in park before turning slightly. Lexa undid her seatbelt and was ready to thank her and run.

“Fine, I can do that,” she decided. “I think you’re one of the prettiest girls I’ve ever seen in my life. I thought so the first day I saw you at school, and agan the first time I saw you at the diner. I think your thoughts are spectacular, and you’re too smart for your own good. I think you’re funny. I think you’re loyal and kind. And this is me flirting with you, waiting for you to flirt back with me.”

“I don’t know if I know how,” Lexa shrugged, confused by the words.

“To flirt?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you want to?”

“Oh yeah! Definitely!”

“Okay, well, tell me something honest, that you’re very afraid of saying,” Clarke prompted, waiting and watching Lexa grow red on the neck.

“I look at your butt a lot when I’m tutoring Gus.”

Clarke’s laugh burst forth and filled up the cab. Instead of being embarrassed, Lexa found herself mesmerized by the tone of it. She didn’t even hurt anymore.

“I look at yours sometimes too,” Clarke promised.

“Really?”

“Oh yeah.”

“Nice.”

“Agreed.”

Lexa paused her hand on the door, ready to make her escape. Suddenly, she had a lot of words to say to Clarke, and at the same time, she was desperately afraid to say anything at all. So she took her sister’s advice, and became a woman of action.

“Thanks for the ride,” she offered, leaning across the seat. She kissed Clarke’s cheek and disappeared as soon as her lips made contact, bolting for her house.

Left oddly perplexed and surprised, Clarke sat in the driveway for a moment, watching after the girl who loped up the steps two at a time until she was out of sight.

“Well alright, Woods,” she muttered as she started the truck again. “We’ve moved onto advanced flirting now.”

Chapter Text

Lunch might have been the only quiet part of the day. The hallways were always racateous, while classes droned on in a distracting way. The school was constantly alive with some event or some happening that kept everyone buzzing. But lunch. Lunch was sacred and nothing more than a dull roar in the background, safe to muddle away to white noise.

It wasn’t before, when Luna had the same period, but now, with the new schedules this year, Lexa got a bit of welcomed break from all expectations. Sometimes she read, often she studied, even more likely, she could be found plotting out her newest movie or idea. She wasn’t particularly lost or lonely looking, but rather a little busy. It was welcomed, and she didn’t think she missed talking to anyone. She very well could have sat with a few groups of people, but constantly chose a bit of solitude to catch up on different things and be left alone.

In the crowded cafeteria, she blended into it, nearly disappearing, even for someone looking for her. It was a miracle that Gus could find her when he decided he needed to sit with her. From time to time he would interrupt her, annoying her about nothing of consequence just because he sometimes hated sitting with his football friends. Sometimes, he just liked listening to Lexa talk about certain things. Most of the time, he found that he oddly liked her advice and was in sore need of it.

Sometimes, people sat with her, kept her occupied. But Lexa wasn’t interested in much else. She had almost forty-five minutes to disappear, and she didn’t like to be bothered.

“What are you doing?”

“I was going to eat my lunch.”

Lexa looked up upon hearing the voice, mistakenly thinking it was Gus ready to annoy her as he crunched his snacks. Her pen slipped from her hand with a thud onto her notebook.

“What are you doing here?” she tried again, swallowing what she could as she stared at Clarke.

“Sitting.”

“But… why?”

“You kiss me in my car and I can’t eat with you?”

“I didn’t– It wasn’t– I was– You gave me– It was a thank you,” Lexa sputtered, growing red around the cheeks, her muscles restricting themselves and making it hard to think or move or feel anything.

The girl beside her just grinned and took a bite of a sandwich, enjoying the stutter and nerves. Lexa pushed up her glasses so they were higher on the bridge of her nose.

“Where’s your lunch?” Clarke interrupted.

“I had some work to do.”

“Here.”

Lexa stared at the half of a sandwich that was shoved toward her before following the arm to the smile attached. She looked back and forth a few more times than necessary.

“You’re sitting with me,” she reiterated, looking around the cafeteria, seeing if there was anyway that Clarke could escape before anyone else saw them sharing a conversation and a table, let alone a sandwich.

“It’s turkey and swiss. I also have some orange slices,” Clarke smiled, ignoring the observation. “I think my dad packed me some graham crackers, too.”

“I was concussed when I did that, and I’m sorry–”

“Take the sandwich and a deep breath, Woods.” It was stern and Lexa needed that from time to time.

Happy with herself, Clarke waited until Lexa took a bite and let her brain calm down before sharing her orange slices. For a moment, they sat in perfect peace.

“I’m sorry,” Lexa whispered after a few bites.

“I think you need me to be explicit,” the cheerleader decided. “I am flirting with you. I find you cute and oddly sexy. It’s the glasses. I don’t know why. That and you have abs, which is disgustingly awesome. But you’re also weirdly smart and your thoughts are interesting.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s been a weird year for me. But you’re fun. I’m flirting with you.” There was a shrug at the end, but Lexa didn’t see it. Instead, she stared, wide-eyed, at the sandwich.

The words left a lot to be digested, but still, dumb and valiant, Lexa did her best to make the most of them.

“Won’t your friends miss you?”

“Maybe,” she shrugged again. “Now are you going to tell me about the movie or not?”

Lexa smiled slightly and took another bite before showing off her notebook of plot points. She stuttered only slightly when Clarke leaned closer and listened intently.

There were little whispers that Lexa never really recognized as being whispers. After physics one morning, a kid she’d known since second grade asked about the cheerleader. Lexa just shrugged it off and continued on her way. During debate practice, a somewhat friend warned her about the dangers of girls like that. After soccer practice, Lexa quickly checked her phone until a teammate casually brought up that she’d seen Clarke and Lexa hanging out in the parking lot after school.

It wasn’t until Luna asked about Clarke, that Lexa put some of it together, slightly exasperated from hearing about it from everyone. But after answering a few questions, she thought about it, and realized that they had, in fact, spent a good bit of relatively public time together, right there, for everyone to enjoy.

Almost every lunch period, Clarke dropped by for various amounts of time. They walked to class together often, and if that wasn’t bad enough, Clarke even showed up at one of the volunteer events that Lexa had to participate in for student government, and on a Saturday, no less, without the pretense of school as a background. It was surely a recipe for the rumor mill, and it did not disappoint.

But Lexa didn’t think about that for long as she shoved her bag into her booth at Oscars and waited for Gus to join her for their normal tutoring session. Instead, all Lexa could do was think about how soon she’d be seeing the cheerleader who was alarmingly well-versed in comic books and music. There was the girl who was flirty and confident, and that girl was wild and a trip. Lexa liked that girl, but there was also this different Clarke, this kind and calm and deceptively unsure person beneath it all. She came out late at night when they messaged back and forth before falling asleep. That part was nice.

Quickly, Clarke was becoming a distracting unlike anything Lexa knew before.

As soon as she pulled out her own notebook and phone, a Cherry Coke slid in front of her and a body joined her in the booth, though it was far better to look at than the burly football player.

“Hey, so this is going to sound really weird, but has anyone said anything about me to you?” Clarke asked, furrowing deeply as she asked.

“Um, no?”

“Good. Good. I just. I’m not being a jerk. I mean all the things I say to you. I haven’t felt like I could breathe for the past few years, and then you– what I mean is– just. Let them talk, right?”

“Right,” Lexa agreed, not fully following the train of thought. But she earned a smile and that was enough to make her brain relax and short-circuit.

“Good,” Clarke nodded.

For a second they were quiet and Lexa sipped her cherry Coke, oddly enjoying the taste now, but more the company.

“I’m almost done editing the cabin movie,” Lexa finally started with a blush as she fiddled with her pencil and refused to meet Clarke’s eyes. They were far too blue; much more than any eyes had a right to be.

But Clarke bit, eager for the change of topic and to hear more about this movie that Lexa had been over the moon eager to start. And just like that, they were chatting amongst themselves, oblivious to all else.

By the time Gus arrived, Lexa was smiling and Clarke was grinning from ear to ear, soaking in the sight. She didn’t move much, except to tuck some hair behind her ear and lean closer, though a large table separated the booths.

The football player watched the scene for a moment before chuckling to himself and retreating back outside, already deciding that homework could wait one more day.

As the holidays drew closer, Lexa found herself running out of excuses to avoid a party or event in which she would find the waitress. To be fair, Clarke never pushed. She often invited, but rarely did she express anything other than a quick note of sadness about not seeing the bespectacled girl at a game.

The real problem remained, that if Lexa saw Clarke in her uniform, she’d die. Right there in the stands of John B. Goodman Memorial Stadium. If she earned a smile from the cheer captain and softball co-captain, Dean’s list and Art show favorite, well she’d combust. It was a risk she just couldn’t take.

But they texted. They texted nonstop. They texted more than Lexa had ever texted in her entire life, whenever they got a moment.

But time was opening up for them with impending breaks, the end of seasons, and school clubs wrapping up. And by the time homecoming rolled around, Lexa was counting down the days until her sister was due back.

Between projects, and still stuck editing her last film with little to no help from Luna, Lexa spent much of her free time polishing a new script. It followed and haunted her in her sleep, so much so, that CLarke invented a new term for Lexa’s spacey glance when she got thinking about it, often mocking her fondly.

In just a few months, they’d become comfortable, and almost like friends, if friends had a constant undertone of staring too long at each other’s lips.

All in all, Lexa ran out of excuses as to why she couldn’t go to a game or a party. Her sister urged her, supporting her with lots of emojis, while Gus made her wear one of his old hoodies to stay warm.

But truth be told, her eyes never left the pretty cheerleader who somehow spotted her and waved. Lexa adjusted her glasses, blushed, and managed something weakly in return, though she immediately felt stupid. She sat with a few friends from various classes, listening quietly as they explained a lot of the intricacies of the rivalry and such.

Somehow, as the game ended, she found herself cheering, and after the win, even tagging along to the party.

How long do I have to stay? She texted her sister as the music throbbed and people crowded every inch of someone’s empty home.

Until you kiss your cheerleader.

Lexa sighed and found a bottle of water before escaping to a new room, in search of fresh air. It’d been a whirlwind of a friday, and she was stressed from tests and papers and life and now this party where she didn’t seem to know what to do with her face. So much stimuli was enough to drive her crazy, and despite catching a glimpse of a happy and shot-taking Clarke, she escaped to the porch.

I can’t stay much longer, she fired off to her sister.

That’s okay. I’m proud of you for trying.

When Anya said things like that, Lexa felt infinitely tiny. She knew they came as little words of encouragement, but they made her feel weak and ineffectual and childish.

“You look like you’re not having any fun.”

“I’m having fun,” Lexa disagreed, earning a nudge from her tutee.

The living room she’d settled into was almost full, with people doing all kinds of things, and smoke and drinks filling it up. People talked and laughed over the music. Fresh from a win on the field, Gus had his arm around a girl that Lexa recognized from the soccer team, and it made her smile to see him so giddy.

Still, even though it was nice to know a face, it was so loud and so crowded and filled with so many people that she knew but didn’t know, that she felt this feeling of an ant colony in her chest, tingling and making her anxious. Unsure of what to say, she wondered where Luna was again, and for that matter, Clarke.

“Hey, you came.”

Like all manner of calm in the midst of a storm, Clarke’s voice stuck out as she swept into the living room, almost breathless and effortlessly gorgeous. Lexa smiled and gulped, forgetting her thoughts despite being in the middle of a conversation, albeit barely, with a few kids from track.

“Yeah, I told you I would,” she felt her cheeks jolt with a grin and then go back to normal, suddenly aware of themselves. She didn’t know what else to say or do, so she took a sip of her drink.

“I’m really glad,” Clarke smile, dimples appearing as she took a drink a friend handed her and sat close to Lexa.

Somehow, Lexa survived, though she smelled Clarke’s perfume, and she felt dizzy. She felt Clarke’s warmth against her side as they smooshed together in a single chair in the midst of a circle of people who were people Lexa didn’t really know, but knew in the high school way. They were all much cooler than her. Quarterbacks and kids who broke into the teacher’s lounge, cheerleaders and pretty people; the lettermen and Marlboro crowd.

But it didn’t matter. She watched Clarke play the drinking game and perform nobly. She smiled when she got blue eyes looking back at her. And though she planned to leave ten minutes ago, she seemed be unable to leave, and over an hour passed.

All the while, Clarke got closer. She yawned and put her chin on Lexa’s shoulder and took a picture with her while they made a face. She rested her hand on Lexa’s thigh and nearly killed her for the fifth time that night.

“I’m flirting with you, if that’s okay?” Clarke whispered.

“Yeah, very,” Lexa nodded eagerly.

“It’s been a really shitty day, but you being here really made it better.”

“I’m glad,” she nodded, meaning it deeply. “If I wasn’t, would you have flirted with someone else?”

“No, just would have texted you all night. This makes it a bit more personal.”

Despite herself, Lexa blushed. Unbeknownst to everyone in the circle, she was alarmingly smitten with this crush.

But even with Clarke there, even with the feeling of butterflies in her belly, there was too much stimuli, too many noises, and she grew uncomfortable until she just couldn’t take it any longer, and had to stand under the pretense of needing more water.

She bypassed the kitchen though and went right for the back porch to catch her breath and text her sister, hoping for something to calm her down and tell her to stay, for someone to be impressed.

“Hey. Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you,” Clarke joined her after a few minutes. “Do you want to get out of here?”

“You don’t have to–”

“No, no, I mean, I really want to get out of here,” Clarke stopped the excuse. “But you can definitely stay if you want.”

“No, no,” Lexa shook her head quickly. “I was going to try to sneak out.”

“Quite a pair we are.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m fine to drive,” Clarke complained as Lexa started her truck. “I had two beers.”

“It’s the law. You’re lucky I’m here to make sure you get home safe.”

“How are you getting home then?” Clarke teased as she put on her seatbelt.

“I’ll walk.”

“You’re stubborn and impossible.”

“Yes.”

“So long as you know.”

With a small smile, Lexa pulled out and made her way toward Clarke’s house, because she knew such things. The radio played and the heat kicked on, loud and humming and warming their faces. Clarke hummed along to the radio and put her knees on the dash as they left the house out on the edge of town.

“You promised to show me your movie, you know.”

Two street lights after the heat started blowing, Clarke interrupted the quiet and turned to watch Lexa drive her home. The neighborhoods were all quiet and sleeping, slumbering in the chill of winter setting amongst the homes. The truck crept down familiar blocks, weaving knowingly along.

“It’s nothing. Just a short.”

“You made something. That’s everything.”

“I don’t know about that,” Lexa shrugged. The steady flickering of the turn signal flashed across her face as she counted the steady beat to herself.

Fingers moved along the steering wheel as they sat at the red light, the only car at the intersection. Lexa felt the well-worn leather under her palm.

“Please? I really want to see it.”

“I’ll send it tomorrow.”

“That was easy.”

“That’s me.”

“I don’t know about that,” Clarke snorted as they took of once more toward her home.

Somehow, she was driving Clarke Griffin, head cheerleader, friend to everyone, sweetheart and all-around most popular and beautiful girl at school, back to her home. And it was a night where said cheerleader almost cuddled with her on the couch and showed an interest in seeing her movie, her silly little side project of a movie. No course of events should have led to that.

“Why was your night shitty?” Lexa asked, furrowing as she followed the rabbit hole that led to that moment, stuck on a statement she was too flustered before to recognize. “You said it was bad.”

“The usual,” Clarke shrugged and looked away.

“I don’t know what the usual is for you, Clarke.”

“It’s just… I don’t know. Family, right?”

“Yeah, I can relate.”

Lexa thought about her own parents and how she felt so far away from them sometimes, how she felt like no one really just… understood. She tried to chalk it up to being a teenager. She tried to make excuses for them, but deep down she was more afraid that she was simply detached, and perhaps that was how she would always be– never able to meet their expectations, never able to grow.

So deep in thought and focused on driving was Lexa that she didn’t notice the look Clarke gave her after the simple exchange, as if she were trying to figure something out.

“If I tell you something, will you never tell anyone else?”

The brakes squealed slightly as they stopped once again at a light.

“Of course,” Lexa swore. “I would never do– no– never– no way. I wouldn’t. I don’t talk about– I wouldn’t.”

“Pinky swear it,” Clarke challenged, holding up her hand.

Lexa stared at the offering, cast in red from the light and the street that they sat beneath, but she took it anyway.

“Cross my heart.”

That seemed to be the ticket.

“I know who you think I am,” Clarke started. “I know what everyone thinks I am. Perfect grades, cheerleader, team captain, bake sale enthusiast, party girl, and all of that. And I am, I think. I just… none of it matters. None of this matters. Not really. We’re not even real people yet. There’s a whole world out there.”

“I get it,” Lexa nodded. “Our brain is wired to do that, you know? To make shortcuts. The brain is attacked with at least thirty-four gigs of data every day. Something like 11 million pieces of information per second. We are programmed to make shortcuts for people. Put them in little boxes. I put you in a little box. You put me in one.”

“Until I got to know you.”

“Exactly. Until we filled in the missing parts and redefined the shortcuts.”

“I think my missing parts are just… I don’t even know what to do with them.”

“I’ll hold them for you, if you want,” Lexa offered as she pulled into Clarke’s driveway. She meant it earnestly, and that was what melted the girl in the passenger seat into a puddle, though Lexa would never know. She was much too busy meaning her words.

“My dad has MS,” Clarke blurt. “He has more bad days than good days anymore. The past few days, he’s been unable to really move. My mom and me fight, all of the time because of it. And most of the time, I just… I just… I’m very angry and sad and… and and. I don’t know. I just take it in my hands and crumple it up like a paper ball and hide it, and it’s exhausting, but I don’t want to share it with anyone else.”

Lexa listened as Clarke got herself worked up in the passenger seat. She didn’t know where to look, so she stared at the lights on the dash, the check engine light a steady glow with everything else. She didn’t know how to process the information, and so she memorized the mileage while Clarke stared at the house illuminated in her headlights. With a sigh, she pushed her hair around her head and slumped against the seat, able to breathe finally.

“To top it off, my mother has me applying to programs in hopes of med school, and I don’t want to do that. And she’s not too keen on having a bisexual daughter, let alone one who enjoys doing something like cheerleading,” Clarke shook her head. “I think she sometimes believes she took the wrong baby home from the hospital.”

Despite it all, Lexa chuckled slightly at that.

“I’m sorry about your dad.”

“Thanks.”

“For what it’s worth, I kind of like that you’re bi.”

“Yeah?” Clarke smiled and finally met Lexa’s look, causing her to look away. “Think you have a chance?”

“Oh goodness, no. Probably not. I just think it’s cool.”

“You’re very dense for a genius, did you know that?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

It should have been an insult, but Lexa ducked her head and smiled into her chest as she tried to memorize the warm fluttering in her ribs.

“I didn’t mean to unload all of that on you.”

“Whenever you need it, I’m here.”

“That’s a sweet offer.”

“I don’t know how helpful I’ll be. My parents and I kind of just exist together. I’m not good at relating to people. Or talking to people. Or being near people. It was easier with Anya around.”

“You do fine,” Clarke promised. “How you talk is one of my favorite parts of you. You’re fascinating.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“I do.”

“Okay then.”

The tape deck played an old standard while the two ran out of things to say, the beer buzzing Clarke into a giddy, relieved mess of exhaustion.

“You should take my truck home,” Clarke decided.

“No, no I couldn’t. I’ll walk. It’s not far.”

“It’s far at two in the morning.”

“I’ll be fine,” Lexa promised.

“I’ll come get it in the morning. Good excuse to get out of the house for a bit.”

“If you’re sure,” Lexa debated, searching Clarke’s face for any hint at what she was actually thinking. She was sold with the idea after hearing that she’d get to see Clarke again before school on Monday.

“I need to get out of the house,” Clarke nodded.

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Good.”

She paused for a second, her fingers moving anxiously over the steering wheel as she tried to summon all manner of her sister’s bravery.

“I wanted to tell you something all night, but I haven’t had a good moment,” Lexa finally murmured. She didn’t see Clarke watching her. “I think you’re beautiful. And I won’t tell anyone that you tell me. I’m good at holding things. It’s not good timing. It’s not one of those moments in a movie. I just. I won’t be able to sleep until I tell you.”

It came out in a rush, but Lexa did it. Blood thundered through her ears so that she couldn’t hear anything else except her own existence.

“It can be a movie, but better,” Clarke tried after a beat, but not losing their momentum. She mostly just wanted her to look toward her again.

She stretched forward and fiddled with the radio until she found some kind of song that fit her moment. Clarke smiled when she met Lexa’s eyes, her features lit only by the headlights glow against the garage door.

“Can I kiss you now?”

Never before in her entire life did she expect Clarke Griffin to say those words to her. Not even in her dreams did Lexa allow herself to contemplate something like that. But as she tried to discern if it was real or fake, she just saw Clarke watching her, amused at the internal struggle happening.

Words were naturally non existent. Lexa couldn’t even form them in her own head, but rather nodded in her own brain.

Frozen in place, she watched Clarke take the nod, but really give her a moment to think it over. The problem being it was all she could think about.

Clarke slid over a few inches, so that she was within range, though Lexa was a statue, stoic and unable to contribute at all to making it any easier. In fact, the seatbelt still dug into her shoulders when she finally moved.

But Clarke smiled to put Lexa at ease, and she touched Lexa’s jaw with just her fingertips as she leaned closer. In a short instant, lips finally met lips, and all hell broke loose. For Lexa, it was a problem. Now she knew what Kissing Clarke Griffin felt like, and she didn’t want to do anything else, ever in her life.

Slowly at first, Clarke was sweet and soft, her lips full and eager. She deepened the kiss to show Lexa that there should be no doubt of her intentions with a kiss like that. Lexa turned to jello when she felt Clarke’s tongue, and even then, felt herself kiss Clarke back, moving with her, bent sideways and uncomfortably in the cab of the old truck with her seatbelt keeping her from floating away in bliss.

“Get home safe,” Clarke finally offered, just inches away from Lexa’s lips. “Text me to let me know?”

“Yeah.”

“Thanks for the ride.”

“Anytime.”

Lexa watched Clarke dig out the spare key from under the mat and go into her house with a small wave, which she returned despite knowing that Clarke probably couldn’t see it. She slowly backed out of the driveway and made it about two blocks before she pulled over and dialed her sister.

Chapter Text

Morning came with a vengeance. The garage door opened, cabinets thwapped shut, and the general waking of the house began despite Clarke’s groan and digging her face into her pillow. But still, her mother must have been coming home from a night shift, and after almost thirty hours at work, had little to no patience for quiet, and sometimes Clarke understood that.

Her clock said it was just after eight, and she groaned again in protest of that hour, though all of the day before came back to her and she was wide awake. She dug her phone up from its spot on the ground, half-buried but victoriously plugged in somehow, beneath dirty clothes and books she’d tossed off her bed in an effort to sleep.

There were texts asking where she’d gone. Texts and snaps from friends at the party, confused about her absence. But just as importantly, there was one from Lexa telling her she made it home safe.

Giddy and smitten, Clarke smiled to herself as she pulled up instagram and saw the likes on their picture together she posted at the party. For a long second, she searched Lexa’s face. Though at the party Clarke noticed her antsiness and nerves, in the picture, Lexa was happy. Her smile was small but genuine, her eyes crinkling slightly with the effort. She liked Lexa, a fact she was still wondering how and when, but nevertheless, accepted.

Unable to help it, she decided 8:18am was a perfectly acceptable time to text her crush and not seem too eager. Of course. With Lexa, she had to show how eager she was. When she got a quick good morning response, she kicked herself out of bed, dressed as quickly as humanly possible, and made her way down the stairs.

“I thought you were out,” her mother greeted her from her spot on the couch. She put the washcloth back over her eyes after sneaking a glance at her daughter. “Your car wasn’t in the driveway taking up all of the spots.”

“I got a ride home,” Clarke murmured, oddly deflated. “How’s Dad?”

“Stiff today. I’m going to have the nurse come for therapy this afternoon. Maybe we can all have dinner tonight?”

“Yeah, sure.”

It was an empty offer, and Clarke knew it. So she grabbed an apple from the kitchen and tugged on her dad’s old MIT sweatshirt, well worn and loved and much too big for her, pushed up the sleeves, and made her way toward the garage, already finished with whatever else her mother would want to talk about.

“Be home by seven for dinner,” her mother called.

“Just text me. I’m sure something will come up.”

“That’s just lovely, Clarke. We don’t–”

Before the familiar talk could continue about responsibility and how stressful the entire situation was for everyone, and it gave Clarke no license to mouth off or behave like that, she bit into her apple and closed the door behind her.

November meant it was cold. The chill came and settled in the neighborhood and town, and made the dreary Sunday almost impossible to want to traverse. But Clarke didn’t mind as she swung her leg over her bike and began the peddle toward Lexa’s.

Clarke worked and she did extracurriculars, and she hung out with friends because she was afraid. Plain and simple, Clarke was a coward. She was afraid of coming home, of being home. What if her father died? What if something happened? What if she was left with her mother for an extended amount of time and they had to talk about boys again? All of it was terrible and most of all, Clarke was just a coward.

But with Lexa, she was brave. Clarke smiled to herself as she steered with one hand and ate her apple, weaving her way across town.

Lexa’s house was big, but as Clarkes was old rich, Lexa’s depicted a new kind of money. It was much more modern than Clarke’s, and she dropped her bike and climbed up the full set of stairs to the entrance. It made sense that Lexa lived somewhere like that. The yard was immaculate, the windows that covered the house were huge, and it reminded her of something Iron Man would live in.

Now, standing at the door, she swallowed and tried to make sure apple peel wasn’t in her teeth, oddly wishing that she’d taken the time to take a shower or wear something better than jeans from three days ago and her father’s old sweater. But she was comfortable, and Lexa made her comfortable, and after spilling her guts in her car and kissing her, she hoped it meant she could be more herself, and less afraid.

“Hello?” a woman about the same age as her own mother greeted Clarke after a moment. “Can I help you?”

Tall and slender and lovely, Clarke saw all bits of Lexa there. The slope of cheeks, the brown of her eyes, the furrow. She was beautiful, even as she pushed the glasses up into her hair and tucked a book against her chest. Even casually, she was beautiful.

“Um, hi, yeah,” Clarke gulped. “I’m Clarke. Clarke Griffin. I go to school with Lexa.”

“Who’s at the door?” an equally tall, chiselled man asked as he took off his glasses and looked away from his phone as he walked by.

Clarke was surprisingly upset that Lexa came from a family of obvious gods. They weren’t even trying to hide it. There they were, out in the open for all mortals to see.

“This is Clarke, Lexa’s friend from school.”

“I thought Luna was Lexa’s friend from school?” he asked, cocking his head in the same way that his daughter did when she was confused.

“She can have more than one.”

“Luna practically has a key, doesn’t she?” he continued, somewhat amazed that someone else was at his door. “At least this friend has good taste. MIT bound?”

“What? Me?” Clarke startled herself. “Oh, this? My dad.”

“What years?”

“‘88 and then ‘93 for PhD.”

“What’s his name?”

“Come in, first, before you’re forced into interrogation,” Mrs. Woods offered, shaking her head at her husband. “It’s like you’ve never met a person, Tim.”

“No it’s fine. My dad does the same thing when he finds out someone is even remotely related to the school,” Clarke smiled warmly and made her way inside. “Jake Griffin. Computer engineer.”

“It doesn’t ring a bell, but I’m going to see. I was over in the mechanical engineering section, but there might have been some overlap.”

“I’ll ask him as well.”

“Definitely. We’ll have to get together anyway. Same years, same school. I’m sure we have some people in common. Tell him I did the Smoots measurement my year of pledging.”

“Every time this happens I get a weirder message to take him,” Clarke chuckled.

“We haven’t heard of a Clarke before,” Mrs. Woods sized her up, interested by the whole interaction. “Are you in one of Lexa’s clubs?”

“Oh, no,” Clarke shook her head. “We just kind of know each other from school. I let Lexa drive my truck home last night. She was nice enough to drive me home after the party.”

“Party?” Mr. Woods cocked his head again, and Clarke was almost certain they were gods and part puppy. The genetics just added up. “Lexa went to a party?”

“Um, no?” she tried to cover.

“I’m not mad, just amazed,” he grinned and shared a look at his wife. “Lexa Woods. Our Lexa, right?”

“Yes?”

“Huh.”

Awkwardly, Clarke stood in the foyer to Lexa’s home while Her parents grinned and looked at each other as if having an entire conversation. She cleared her throat and waited to be saved.

“Sorry, honey. Lexa’s in the garage,” Mrs. Woods offered. “Right down there, down the steps, and on the left.”

“Thank you,” Clarke smiled, regaining some kind of confidence.

As she made her way down the hall, she adjusted the sleeve that fell over her hand and heard the parents whispering to themselves, excited and surprised by their morning.

The garage was nothing like her own. Back home, her’s had some tool, some shelves with boxes labeled things like ornaments. Lexa’s garage was a work room, a full garage like something out of Iron Man or something. Clarke hadn’t expected that when she opened the door and followed the music playing.

Along one entire wall, tools were hung neatly and giant chests hinted that there were more packed neatly in their proper spaces. Clean and crisp, a few workbenches had lights and various projects in the works. At first, there were what Clarke assumed were Lexa’s parent’s cars. Next, came a half-constructed car of some sort. Next came a skeleton of a Jeep or something. And finally, at the end of the entire stretch, where the music was the loudest, hips with grease-stains over the back pockets were bent and the top half of the person they were attached to was deep under the hood of her own truck.

“If I’d known you were going to strip it for parts–” Lexa jerked up at Clarke’s voice, hitting her head on the hood. “I wouldn’t have let you take her. Oh goodness. Are you okay?”

“Ouch, yeah, no, I’m fine,” she grunted as she extracted herself from the mouth of the old truck. “Hard head and junk.”

“Are you sure?”

“Oh yeah.”

Lexa offered a sheepish smile and rubbed the back of her neck while Clarke grinned at the blush and the grease tinting her cheeks.

“You’re here. In my house. Did you–” she started to put it together. “My parents let you in?”

“Yeah. We’re good friends now. They liked me, I think.”

“Alright.”

“I didn’t expect to find you inside my engine,” Clarke approached the edge and looked inside her old truck’s heart. “Find anything good?”

“Oh, yeah, uh, sorry. I noticed it was skipping a little, when I drove it, and the light was on. My dad has one of the readers, and so I thought I’d just see–”

“You don’t have to explain,” she promised. “What’s the diagnosis? Please be gentle. I bought her with my own money, and I’m not ready to let her go.”

Lexa wiped her hands in an old rag before lifting up a tool and pointing inside.

“It’s not terrible. Oil change and two spark plugs need replaced. I just started looking though, but that’s about it.”

“And you can do that?”

“Yeah, pretty easy. I was going to, but you showed up.”

“Wait, you were just going to do it and not tell me?” Clarke piqued an eyebrow and looked up from the engine that was simply a garble of cords to her.

“Um, is that creepy? I didn’t mean it in a creepy way. You have a lot on your plate, and I actually really like doing this kind of stuff,” Lexa shrugged, speaking quickly to hide her embarrassment. “You can take it to a mechanic if you want. I don’t–”

“No, no,” she assured her. “It’s more than sweet.”

With that, Clarke leaned over and kissed Lexa’s cheek.

“But I want to learn, if that’s okay. I’ll try not to slow you down.”

Slightly startled by the notion of it, Lexa stared back at Clarke and debated the course of action to take. Clarke waited and moved to take off her sweatshirt to make herself more at home and ready to work.

“You can be my assistant.”

“I can definitely do that.”

By noon, the picture that Clarke posted of her and Lexa working on her truck got a lot of likes and also earned her quite a few texts from confused friends as to how and why she was hanging out with whoever that was with her. Those who knew who it was were even more curious, and for that reason.

By noon they’d also changed the oil and got it to stop doing whatever it was doing that warranted new spark plugs. Clarke tossed her old sweatshirt over a desk and rolled up her sleeves, handing tools over and spending the day watching Lexa work and explain things. It wasn’t the worst Saturday in existence.

“Where did you learn all of this?” Clarke asked as she dried her hands, finally able to free them from the grease.

“My dad,” Lexa smiled. “We used to work on cars and stuff. Him and, um. Us.”

As soon as the smile came, she grew somber as the memory turned bitter in her mouth. But she steadied herself, came back from the far away look in her eyes, and she put her head to to finish getting the grease and muck from her palm.

“Sometimes him and me, sometimes him and Aden.”

“Aden?”

“My brother. He was my brother. He died a few years ago. Three years, actually. Three years ago. Four in April.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t… no one ever told me.”

“It’s fine,” Lexa shrugged. “We don’t have to talk about it. But that’s where I learned it. Each of these were going to be ours.”

“You are full of surprises, Lexa Woods.”

Though Clarke had many more questions, she knew this wasn’t the place to pry. She knew that Lexa even saying what she had must have been hard, and so she decided to smile at her, and make her nervous.

She was thoroughly successful, earning a short, quick smiled as she finished cleaning up.

“Hey kids, do you want something for lunch? I can order a pizza?” Mrs. Woods greeted them, looking over the back of the couch as they made their way back upstairs. “You must have been working hard.”

“No work today?” Lexa asked, shoving her hands in her back pockets.

“It’s a weird day. Just reading some proposals from home. Get everything finished?”

“My truck will now last forever,” Clarke proudly nodded.

“I don’t know about that. But it will get you home and to school,” Lexa corrected.

As if she was looking at aliens, Lexa’s mom stared at the pair until they seemed to notice her again. All at once, her daughter was different, possibly even foreign to her completely. She watched them dance around each other and grin.

“Pizza then?” she finally asked when they grew nervous.

“We were actually going to go grab a bite from Oscars real quick, and then I was going to show Clarke some movie stuff, if that’s okay?”

Lexa looked to her mother hopefully, and waited while an extra few seconds passed, the amazement apparent on her face before she could regain some footing. Clarke shoved her hands in her pockets and waited with a smile.

“Yes, yes of course, darling. Is that history paper done?”

“It is.”

“It was nice to meet you, Mrs. Woods,” Clarke offered happily as Lexa nudged her toward the door, shuffling them both away as quickly as possible.

“Don’t be a stranger!” she called, though the door was almost closed when she said it.

For a moment, she sat on the couch and stared in the direction of the departing pair and smiled to herself, still oddly in disbelief. Though she turned her attention back to her work spread out in the living room, she couldn’t quite get her head back into it.

There were many things that appeared on her phone. Invitations to do stuff with the rest of the squad, meeting up at someone’s house, a trip to the mall, and such, Clarke let her phone vibrate in her pocket as she sat in a booth in the corner of her diner on her off-day, listening to Lexa explain the point of some movie plot point that Clarke just didn’t appreciate enough at all.

It didn’t matter, honestly. Not when Lexa was so excited and eager and comical and smiling. The vibrating disappeared completely despite different notifications still pouring through. Clarke had no urge to look at her phone.

“What are your favorites then?” Lexa asked as she sipped and watched Clarke across the booth, slightly blushing from the teasing she’d endured.

“You’ll just make fun of me.”

“I promise I won’t.”

Clarke eyed her warily but couldn’t resist her.

“I’m a popcorn movie junkie. If there are explosions and aliens fighting robots or something, I am definitely there.”

“I love those too.”

“Do you?” Clarke asked, trying to needle an answer out.

“I’ll watch anything. I hate the misconception that just because someone loves movies, they don’t like all kinds, and not just film festival drama pieces.”

“That’s fair. But have you seen the newest Thor? That’s the real question.”

“I haven’t yet,” Lexa sighed and stole a fry from the girl who sat across from her who just let it happen. “I’ve wanted to, but I was all over the place this summer.”

“It’s out on video now.”

“We should watch it.”

Before she could realize what she was saying, Clarke agreed, and Lexa was suddenly wondering what that meant. She kind of asked her out, but it was also a friends type of thing, which would make sense. They were friends. Friends who kissed sometimes, but not all the time.

The confusion must have been evident, and for a moment, Clarke just watched her work through it in her own head.

“Yeah, definitely.”

“I mean it in a more than friends, I’m flir–”

“Lexa?”

Both girls in the booth looked up at the newest member of the conversation, distracted by their own conversation and the day they’d already spent together.

“Hey, Luna, hi,” Lexa managed, startled to be near someone else.

“You never texted me back,” her friend muttered, adjusting the bag on her shoulders as she eyed the other girl at the table.

A far cry from the normal Clarke Griffin she was accustomed to seeing, Luna had to do a kind of double-take and watched her warily from the side of her eye. Clarke just smiled politely and bit her straw before leaning back and crossing her legs.

“I’m sorry,” Lexa sighed, deflating with the realization that she’d missed things. “This weekend just got out of control. We were going to do some plotting.”

“It’s fine,” she lied. “You’re busy.”

“No no, I’m so sorry. I just–”

“It’s my fault,” Clarke offered. “I am an epic distraction. Lexa saved me and dropped me off, and then my truck is a piece of junk.”

All Luna did was look at Clarke before turning back to her friend, ignoring the excuses. She didn’t want to hear any of it anyway.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“Wait, why don’t you come–” Lexa interrupted.

“No no, you stay,” Clarke tried to offer. “I can head home. I’m sure I have homework and stuff.”

“Wait, you don’t have to,” Lexa tried, anxious at the idea of the day ending.

“It’s fine. I just wanted to make sure you were still alive.”

“Luna, I–”

Clarke watched it happen, watched Lexa give her a look before pushing herself away after her friend. Despite herself, she tried not to look at the two talking. She watched Lexa apologize and avoid Luna’s eyes. For a moment, she felt nervous and oddly out of place. She could see the hurt in Luna’s eyes. Clarke didn’t know the strange girl from freshman history, but she could see the way she looked at Lexa, she could feel the intimacy between them. When Lexa offered a smile and earned a hug from her friend, Clarke looked away and felt her chest burn.

“Sorry about that,” Lexa murmured as she took her seat at the booth again. “I’ve been a terrible friend and co-producer.”

“You can go see your friend. I did kind of take over your day.”

“She’s just dramatic. I disappear from time to time. She’s used to it.”

“I didn’t mean to come betwee–”

“You don’t really have to go, do you?” she asked, these puppy-dog eyes firmly in place as they looked up at Clarke from beneath long lashes. It made the cheerleader feel weird and fluttery.

“You really want to watch Thor, huh?”

A smile started at the corner of Lexa’s mouth before it spread. She relaxed and nodded before taking a sip of her Cherry Coke.

Even with the minor incident at the diner, even with the day lazily slipping away, Lexa found herself in her room, watching a movie on her bed with Clarke Griffin.

The sun set, her dad poked his head in and offered pizza and asked about homework, and still, they camped out and talked and joked and just had a good time. It was one of the best Sundays of her life.

“Thank you so much for having me over,” Clarke offered as she made her way down the steps and found Lexa’s parents in the living room. “Your house is so nice, and the pizza was great.”

“Anytime, Clarke,” Mr. Woods smiled and sat up a bit, pulling off his glasses.

“Don’t be a stranger,” his wife offered. “Get home safe.”

“I’m going to walk Clarke out,” Lexa offered her parents awkwardly, shoving her hands in her pockets.

“Thanks again,” the cheerleader smiled and waved, all perky and perfect for parental units.

Even more awkwardly, Lexa watched her parents stare back at the pair, as if they were aliens, completely overwhelmed by the scene. She hurried them along, down the hall and toward the garage, eager to escape it.

She spent an entire day with Clarke, and now it was ending, and for some reason, this was the moment, their moment, the turning point in everything, the rising action of which they couldn’t turn back from in the story. They had been unfettered by school or eyes from other people, they had been completely content to do nothing in particular, and yet it was enough and probably built something better than any other method.

And now it was ending, and tomorrow they would wake up, and things would be different. There was no going back on whatever happened.

“Thanks again for fixing up my truck,” Clarke offered, leaning against the side of the junk. “It was a really sweet gesture.”

“It was easy. You weren’t a bad assistant.”

“Well, I can tell my mom I’ve started learning a trade. I’m sure that will thrill her.”

Lexa smiled and watched Clarke fiddle with her keys. They didn’t have anything left to say, and each knew it. Clarke just wanted to prolong the inevitable trip home, and Lexa was this shining spot of good in an otherwise just plain bad couple of years.

“We should do this again, but on purpose,” Lexa decided. “I mean. The hanging out. Not at school. Just us.”

“We should.”

“But like a date,” Lexa clarified, watching Clarke to see if she understood.

“I’d like that a lot,” she nodded.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool.”

“Maybe next Sunday we can go see an actual movie?”

“That’d be awesome,” Lexa nodded, her heart like a hummingbird’s and fluttering in her ears so that she was barely able to hear.

“Okay then, Woods, it’s a date,” Clarke smiled, nodding her head to set it officially.

“Cool.”

“Cool, indeed.”

Once more, Clarke toyed with her keys before deciding to open the door of her truck. She paused and turned back toward Lexa who remained, hands rooted in her pockets and shoulders hunched, but smile growing.

Overwhelmed with how relaxed and relieved she felt, Clarke did what came naturally, and she slid her arms around Lexa’s neck, pressing her body into her’s, wrapping them up tightly and holding on as she closed her eyes. It took a few seconds, but Lexa relaxed, falling into it and eventually uprooting her hands to wrap them around Clarke’s back.

“Thank you for today. I needed it,” the cheerleader sighed. She pulled away and kissed Lexa’s cheek.

“Anytime,” she mumbled, vibrating all over.

That was all Lexa needed. She watched Clarke slide into her truck and start it up. Awkwardly, she waved and hated herself as the truck pulled out. It was too dark outside for her to be sure, but she thought there was no way Clarke waved. As she closed the garage door and hung her head as she walked inside, Lexa focused on one item from the day, and that was that she got a date with Clarke Griffin. An official date. And she had no idea what that would mean, but she was excited for it.

Chapter Text

Not one thing changed at all, much to Lexa’s surprise.

She felt different. Things should have been different because they sure as hell felt different, but not one thing was changed at all when Monday morning rolled around at school. As usual, Lexa spent the morning catching up with Luna and sipping her orange juice as they walked to school. And despite her friend’s annoyance from the day before, Luna softened slightly and let Lexa tell her about her day with Clarke.

And like every Monday, Lexa went to her classes, made plans for the coming week, jotted things down in her notebook to keep track of it all. Like the past few mondays, Clarke sat with her at lunch and they smiled at each other awkward and bashful for a few minutes before relaxing. Like every normal Monday, she had student government after seventh period, and she quickly changed to her soccer uniform for practice. Like every practice, she worked hard. It was painfully banal and normal.

But they weren’t normal. She’d spent the entire day with Clarke, and she kissed her, and no one knew that she was different now.

“Hey, do you want to work on that history project this week?” Jessica asked as they sat on the bench, taking off shin guards, catching Lexa from her state of pure distraction. “I think we can put a pretty big dent in it if we just muscle up for a few hours.”

“Hm? Yeah, definitely,” Lexa nodded, tugging down her sock. “I’m busy this weekend, but we can get a lot done and finish early next week if that’s okay?”

“Honestly, that’d be perfect. I’m glad we got stuck together,” her teammate and history partner smiled as she grabbed her bag. “I at least know you’re going to do your side of the project.”

“And unlike some of the guys I’ve been stuck with, I won’t have to do it all this time.”

“Win-win for both,” she smiled. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah, definitely. See ya.”

The crispness of autumn and the evening, the sun starting to set on the campus already, led to a slight shiver to dry the rest of the sweat on Lexa’s neck and chin as she tossed a few things in her gym bag and finally slipped on her old sweatshirt.

The practice field emptied out and she began the arduous trek back toward the parking lot while going over her list of things to do at home. It helped to think of things like that. If she were meeting with Jessica on Wednesday, that meant she’d have to finish her side of the work by Tuesday. And she was supposed to volunteer after school, which meant less time.

All the while she maneuvered through her mental schedule, Lexa followed her feet toward the sidewalk that would take her home. Even though her parents offered her whatever car she wanted because of her grades and general perfectness as a student and kid, she couldn’t take them up on the offer.

Instead, she liked her walk.

Around the baseball field and a cut through the faculty parking lot, and Lexa was meandering past the football field and track. Normally, she didn’t take much notice, meaning she didn’t stop and gawk. She always snuck a look at the head cheerleader though, when they were out practicing. Sometimes they were in the gym. Sometimes they were in a gymnastic room. But Lexa felt her cheeks burn slightly when she saw Clarke.

The football players began to hit the showers, and for the life of her, Lexa wasn’t sure why she actually stopped and put her arms on the fence near the gate. She never thought to do it before, but she did it. Even though it was chilly, and the leaves were fluttering, ready to die and become nothing more than wisps in the wind, and even though Lexa was in her shorts and soccer socks, she waited and hoped it wasn’t creepy.

But after some of the footballers walked by without noticing, and it looked like cheer practice finally started to dispel, she met Clarke’s eyes and earned a smile and slight wave from the squinting leader. It told her to stay.

Fresh from practice, Lexa pushed her glasses up on her nose as she blushed and watched Clarke pack up. She wasn’t really sure what was coming, or what to say, or what to do, just that sometimes Clarke waited for her after class, and they walked to class together sometimes, and it seemed like it should be okay.

Clarke lifted her arms to tie her hair in a ponytail, her shirt riding up so her ribs were exposed, and her hips were on display. Lexa stared and then looked away as quickly as her brain could go back to real life speed instead of dial up. But the cheerleader didn’t notice that Lexa was memorizing it.

But Lexa couldn’t look anymore, so she turned around, crossed her arms and just waited without looking. But by not looking, she ended up looking over her shoulder quite often until she saw Clarke zip her jacket and grab her bags.

“Hey, were you waiting for me?” Clarke grinned, cocking her head to the side, adorable and teasing all at once.

“I was,” she nodded. “Is that okay?”

Lexa pushed up her glasses once again and met Clarke’s eyes before shying away from them for some reason.

“Are you kidding me? This is awesome. I’m off on Mondays, so I’m not in a hurry. Care for a lift home?”

“It’s out of your way. I just wanted to sa–”

“Lexa, I’m going to give you a lift. Come on. No worries. You diagnosed and fixed the beast, you deserve free rides.”

“I didn’t come over just for a ride.”

“I know, but it means I get to see you a bit longer, so I’ll take what I can get.”

They didn’t really move at first, but rather lingered by the gate, asking about the other’s practice and schedule. They skated around the entire day they spent together, yet looked at each other with a different kind of knowledge about the other. Everything was the same and nothing changed, except them, and only they knew it. It was a secret worth keeping.

“Hey, Clarke, what the hell are you doing?” a voice boomed when the streetlights finally clicked on in the parking lot.

On the edge of it, right there in front of the stadium, the two laughed until they were interrupted.

“I’m heading out in a few,” she waved, hoping it would signal him to leave, but he was with a few friends, and that was about to happen.

“I meant what are you doing with this nerd,” he sneered, enjoying how witty he found himself.

From her spot, Lexa clenched her jaw and waited, ready to leave had it not been for Clarke standing in front of her somewhat, positioning herself so that she was between the large football player and Lexa.

“I think you’re forgetting who your real friends are,” he continued, eyeing them both, “and who is in the circles you’re supposed to be in.”

Lexa sighed and expected much worse. All in all, not a terrible restructuring from a head of their class. Being Anya’s sister kept her safe for as long as possible. She had a good run, and wasn’t too bothered by someone finally saying what she was certain was whispered behind her back.

“Yeah, all she does is run around with a stupid camera,” another kid chuckled.

“Christ, Finn, it’s fucking 2018. When you’re done doing your best Cobra Kai impersonation, maybe you can grow the hell up.”

“I’m not doing any impersonation,” he defended himself, looking to his friends for backup. “I’m reminding you of some facts and warn you that people are starting to notice where you’re placing your freak flag.”

“Holy hell, you guys are actual, real-life, bonafide idiots, did you know that?” she asked, gobsmacked and scoffing at the lot of them.

Young and tall and tan and built and a lot of hormones and hair, the few football players changed with the outburst from Clarke that they weren’t expecting. They shuffled and shifted their weight as Finn, the leader of the little pack, searched for something to say.

“If you ever call anyone, anything, I swear to God, I’ll punch you in the neck. It’d be your nose but I can’t reach,” Clarke promised. “Seriously, grow up.” And with that, she held out her hand, she looked over her shoulder at Lexa. “Let’s get out of here. I think they misplaced their one communal brain cell.”

As with most things in her life since meeting the pretty, saucy, wild girl, all Lexa could do was hold on and hope to survive the ride. So she took Clarke’s hand and let her tug her past the blubbering football players.

With a vengeance, Clarke stomped toward the parking lot before wheeling around when they were just a few steps from her truck. She heard the boys muttering and yelling a few insults.

“You know that they’re dumb and I don’t think anything like they do, right?” she asked, almost accusing Lexa of lumping her in with them.

“Yeah, I know. It’s noth–”

“I can’t believe they said that. Children. They’re children.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Lexa shrugged.

“It’s a big deal to me,” she argued. “They don’t get to just make sweeping judgements about people like our lives are out of a damn John Hughes movie.”

“No need to bring Mr. Hughes into this. He’s just an innocent bystander.”

“That’s what you focus on?” Clarke furrowed, a little mad at the answer. “They pull that shit and you worry about my movie reference?”

“He made good movies, and those guys are always saying dumb things. I figured as long as you still hang out with me, who cares, right?” Lexa scratched her neck and squinted slightly before looking away from Clarke.

“I care!” she argued. “I don’t want people saying things about you like that. It’s not fair. How can people still be such jerks. It’s the 21st century for Christ’s sake.”

“If you don’t want to be seen with me, I get it. I’m sorry I waited–”

“How can you be so dense?” Clarke yelped, groaning at Lexa’s train of thought. “Just shut up. I want to hang out with you. I’m going to hang out with you. And I’m not going to listen to neolithic fuckboys spout any kind of ridiciulousness.”

“Cool.”

“Get in the truck,” she groaned, just making Lexa smile a bit more, unbothered by her inability to get Clarke to calm down.

Nothing really mattered because she got invited anyway. And so Lexa heaved her bags into the bed of the truck just as Clarke did after finishing her keys from her backpack.

“You’re a total nerd, but only I’m allowed to call you that,” Clarke finally stated.

“You can call me whatever you want,” Lexa offered as she buckled her seatbelt and absently waited for the car to start.

She didn’t notice the look that Clarke gave her, nor did she care about the smiled that spread on Clarke’s lips as she finally turned the key in the ignition.

“Who even talks like Finn just did anyway? What a piece of dick.”

Lexa smiled and leaned back against the seat, comfortable, grateful, and oddly amazed that so much power and force came in the package that was Clarke Griffin.

The garage used to be alive. The doors would be open, music would play from the built-in speakers, and they would spend too much time working on cars and spending time together as a family. It was her father’s den, his place, his workstation. He always called it his first passion, to be able to do things with his hands, no matter how much his job moved toward the financial side of things with his company. He hid and worked on old cars, took apart vacuums, and fixed lawnmowers.

After her soccer game on Thursday, Lexa made her way home to an empty house and before she even went upstairs, she paused at the garage door, looked around the empty courtyard and driveway, and typed in the old code to let herself in.

There wasn’t really a reason to do it, but it felt like the right thing to do. It was a long game and week; one which started with Clarke trying to fight a football player, and ended with Clarke kissing Lexa again in her truck after the soccer game. In between, a rhythm formed that made it feel normal.

But Lexa felt things get a new rhythm and felt nervous at it for she longed for the times that came before, and was unsure how to keep them. So she opened the garage door, flicked on the lights, and dropped her backpack before running her hand along the old body of the multi-colored Bronco she’d chosen.

The night came in, and Lexa didn’t notice as she went to work taking apart one of the doors in hopes of finishing or fixing something. If she kept her hands moving, then she didn’t have to think about Clarke and how normal it was becoming to be near her and kiss her. They’d already kissed almost four times, depending on how she counted those on the cheek.

So deep in thought did Lexa find herself, that she didn’t much notice the sound of her father’s car approaching, nor did she take her eyes off of the tool in her hand long enough to see the headlights flick off as he made his way inside.

“Hey, kid, what are you doing in here?” her father’s voice wafted in with the music that slithered along the garage.

“Just… working.”

“Hmm,” he nodded, surveying her work.

Awkward and startled, Lexa looked around and really tried to find some words to explain why she felt compelled to work on her car, even after everything, even after she grew afraid of it. Things were different, and they weren’t different, and she was starting to understand such things.

In an unheard of move, her father took off his suit jacket and rolled up his sleeves before offering his help, earning a smile from his daughter.

Quietly, just above the clinking of tools and between the suggestions for how to go about something, he asked his daughter about her game and school. She told him about her goal and her project for history.

“I didn’t think you’d want to work on this ever again,” he grunted as he loosened a bolt.

“Me neither.”

“Why then?”

Lexa just shrugged and went back to the task at hand. But they neared the end of their little project, and she wiped her forehead of sweat, unsure of what to do.

“I miss Aden. I miss talking to him, and I have a lot of things I need to talk to him about, but I can’t, so I’m just going to work on this.”

It was honest, perhaps more honest than Lexa had been in years. The force with which she said it, the earnestness that came as well, it made her father stop his movements and stare back at his youngest daughter in complete amazement. For the first time in too long, for the first time in longer than he was ready to admit and ashamed to realize, he searched his daughter’s face, watched her not look at him, watched her eyebrows furrow below a streak of grease as she winced and pulled something from the door.

“What, um, what might,” her father gulped. “What would you want to talk about?”

Lexa paused her movements, frozen by the question, unsure of what she should do, not really expecting something like that.

Staring back at her was the same eyes and cheeks of her brother, grown old and slightly wrinkled with age and a life lived with three kids and loss. As quickly as she looked at her father, she looked away and held her breath, debating.

“I kissed Clarke, right over there,” she nudged her head to the other side of the garage. Her cheeks burned with the confession. “I like her.”

From the other side of the door, her father tried to keep a stoic face, not wanting to mess up the moment. If he messed it up, he’d never get his daughter back, and he knew it. So he watched her work in silence for a moment, so completely aware that he had no idea who she was, and greatly saddened by it.

“She seems like a nice girl,” he finally tried. “Polite and kind.”

“Yeah,” Lexa nodded, tugging some wires.

“Hey, look at me.” To his credit he waited until Lexa took a deep breath and met him again, not wanting to, but knowing she had to sooner or later. “You can talk to me about this stuff. I will always, always, always love you and support you and try my best to be there. I know things have been hard, since Aden. But we’re still family. I need to remember that too. It’s my fault you feel so weird telling me this–”

“I don’t. I just didn’t have anything to tell,” she shrugged.

“That’s not true. And I’m sorry. But this is very good. Very very good. You’re allowed to like Clarke. You’re allowed to like anyone. You’re allowed to be happy.”

Lexa shrugged again and looked away, uncomfortable with the sincerity and feeling happy about telling her father.

“I don’t know how good it is,” she sighed, fiddling with the screwdriver in her hand. “Girls are really confusing. They mess up your brain. I’m smart. I’m good at school. But sometimes Clarke is around, and my brain reverts to the functions of a second-grader.”

Tim Woods chuckled at her daughter’s anguish, forcing her to groan and tilt her head back as she shook away the embarrassment of her admission. The day they put his son in the ground, he never imagined having a talk about girls over fixing an old car. It’d been a fatherly dream he’d always held for some reason, and here he was. The irony was too much to contain.

“Yeah, that never really goes away,” he nodded, digging in the toolbox for a wrench he needed. “You don’t think she likes you?”

“I think she might. She says she does. She told me she was flirting with me.”

“Feels like a trap, right?”

“Yeah.”

“It always feels like a trap, no matter what they say or do. Girls have you second-guessing yourself at every turn. A pretty girl will make you a downright idiot.”

“Clarke’s pretty,” Lexa nodded, seriously, as if she were regurgitating a fact that would be on a test next week. “Really pretty. She’s a cheerleader. Head cheerleader.”

“Wow,” her father whistled. “My girl nabs the head cheerleader. It’s the Woods genes. We’re completely irresistible.”

“I don’t think so. Dad, I’m kind of a nerd. Everyone knows it.”

“You?” he furrowed. “You’re on government, debate, soccer. You make those little movie things. Who wouldn’t like you?”

“It’s not that they don’t like me, I just… I’m different. Everyone knows it. And it’s not even the whole Aden thing, even though that didn’t help at all.”

“Is it because you like Clarke? Because I’ll march up to school right now if anyone said anything about the tw–”

“Dad, Dad, calm down. It’s not that. No one knows about me and Clarke. I don’t even know about me and Clarke.”

“Right,” he nodded, taking a deep breath after puffing out his chest and seeing red for a moment. “Listen, there’s no way you’re a nerd, and there’s no way Clarke isn’t completely over the moon about you. You’re fantastic.”

“You have to say that.”

“I don’t! I just really mean it. And she must like you. Forget everything else.”

“She did kiss me first,” Lexa smiled slightly at the memory.

The two worked on rewiring the door, the father impressed by that revelation, Lexa slightly nervous to talk so candidly about it. But she was a dam and the walls were breaking because she wanted to talk about Clarke to someone, and she wanted to tell her parents a lot of things. It was what she needed but didn’t know how to have, but she was going to try to keep it. Her heart felt a little warm with her father’s reaction, and that was something she remembered from when she was a kid, but had almost forgotten completely.

“Oh yeah kid,” her father nodded confidently as he finished unscrewing something. “She likes you.”

“But what does that mean?” Lexa groaned again. “What do I do now?”

“That’s the million dollar question.”

“I thought you’d be more help.”

“I get that a lot.”

“Do I have to tell Mom or will you?”

Her father tapped a wrench against his leg as he walked over toward the spare fridge they kept beer in, reached in, and opened one with the familiar hiss. Lexa watched and waited, hoping he’d take pity on her, though when she saw the smile grow, she already knew the answer.

“Whenever you’re ready.”

“She won’t care?”

“She’ll tell you she loves you and remind you to be safe.”

“Ugh, gross, stop.”

“If you think you’re getting out of a sex and consent talk, missy, you are sorely mistaken,” he reminded her, pointing with his can in his hand.

“I learned everything I need on the internet.”

“Oh no,” he shook his head. “I already had a speech ready for Aden, and Anya kind of got one, but that was mostly your mom. I’m ready for this. I’ll have to adapt some of it– What are you doing?”

Lexa began picking up and weighing different tools in her hand, debating something and trying to not listen to her father.

“I trying to see which tool would work best to deafen myself.”

“If you think I won’t type up an essay, you are very mistaken.”

“Dammit.”

Chapter Text

November was all yellows, golds, browns, and auburns.

The entire world was colorful and alive, busy with one final show before the inevitable setting in of winter. Throughout the town, preparations were made for football championships and harvest festivals, while everyone avoided even mentioning that the holidays were right around the corner. It was a time of routines and predictability, of change and finishing.

School spread around the legend of the head cheerleader who tore apart the quarterback to defend the honor of the movie nerd from AP calculus. It was the talk of the week, and it changed things, in a way. People looked at the two of them differently, but only Clarke picked up on it. Still shamefully unaware, Lexa stole her moments that were given to her, and she didn’t ask for more, but rather savored.

Any day though, Lexa thought as she sat at her table and twirled a pen around her fingers. Any day now, she was going to ask Clarke on a date, an honest to goodness, full on, I-like-you kind of date. They’d already kissed. Clarke must like her. She kind of already agreed to a date before, in the grand kind of way. In the, yeah sure maybe one day, kind of way.

The thoughts weren’t convinced, and Lexa couldn’t get over the butterflies as a cheerleader tossed her a wink and smile from behind the counter at the diner.

“So what’s going on with that?” Gus asked, totally nonchalant and not at all eager to hear about Lexa’s weird love life.

His tutor simply shrugged and bit at the straw of her Cherry Coke after taking a sip and purposefully looking back at her notes scattered on the table.

“Where were we? Pythagorean Theorem?”

“You have to just ask her out. This has been going on for two months already.”

There’d been a plan for a date, a hypothetical that got deterred by something coming up at home for Clarke. And she honestly did sound sorry for it, even being extra sweet to Lexa when she had to cancel. Lexa promised that it was alright, though things felt different after it. And now she was as messed up as ever.

“Let’s study. You have midterms next week.”

“I’ll study when you ask her out.”

“This isn’t a debate,” she sighed. “You pay me to help you.”

“Just go do it. Real quick,” he smiled, nudging his head.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No way.”

“Trust me. I don’t know trig, but I know ladies.”

“Shut up.”

“Come on, Lex. You are already–”

“Hey, how are you guys doing over here?” a sugary sweet, customer service voice interrupted.

Lexa had all but memorized the way Clarke’s uniform shirt clung to her body. She couldn’t help it. It followed her home and crawled in bed with her, keeping her awake with all of those thoughts. But as Clarke crouched down beside the table, Lexa was intimately aware of the curves once again, and eagerly drank most of her drink in a single slurp.

“Great. Fine. Awesome. Never better,” Lexa rushed. “How are you?”

Clarke gave her a look and smiled, though Lexa died inside, avoiding Gus’ amused grin.

“Not too bad. Pretty busy tonight. Lots of studying going on.”

“Yeah, same with us. Lots of studying. We read. A lot. Math too. We’re learning… math things,” Lexa nodded and cleared her throat, looking to her tutee for help, though he had none to give.

“Alright, I think a round of fries are in order for you. Anything else to drink, Gus?”

“I’m good, thanks,” he smiled wider, sharing a look with the embarrassed and flustered girl across the table. “Maybe a date for my friend here.”

“Whenever we get to it, we will. I’m not going anywhere,” Clarke promised, afraid to look at Lexa’s reaction. They kept a pact of not looking at each other, despite the valiant wingmanning that was taking place. “I know I can’t ask anyone out. I’m a cheerleader. We get asked out.”

Gus let out a loud bark of a laugh, and Clarke chuckled along with it, though Lexa remained completely still, not willing to lift her eyes to either of them, but rather staring at one equation on the page of her notebook unfailingly.

“Don’t tease your tutor,” Clarke warned the football player as she grabbed their cups to refill them. “Give you a ride home after my shift?”

“Yeah, if you want,” Lexa nodded, still not looking up. In fact, she actively refused to ever move again. She vowed to melt right into the booth.

“Definitely,” Clarke nodded. “I’ll be right back with some snacks.”

As soon as the waitress escaped ear shot, Lexa turned a stern gaze onto her colleague, pursing her lips and tapping her pen against the table in frustration. She stared and waited for something, though Gus just had a shit-eating grin on his face and no guilt at all.

“You’re welcome,” he offered.

“I hate you so much. You’re the worst wingman. It’s much more complicated than you even know, and you can’t do stuff like that.”

“I helped. Now you know she’ll say yes to whatever you pick.”

“That’s not the point.”

“You’ll thank me for this one day.”

All the tutor could do was groan and roll her eyes, sinking deep into the bench.

Sorry about that. He’s the worst, Lexa typed out quickly on her phone, tossing it down and not expecting a quick answer. It vibrated ten seconds later.

No apology needed. I was kidding about the whole cheerleader thing. I’d ask you out right now if I didn’t think you’d combust.

Perhaps it was the confidence that Gus gave, perhaps it was just the right moment, perhaps the stars aligned and all of human history waited for this to happen. Lexa would never know what made her type another message, and she’d never tell Gus.

Do you want to go see a movie next week? It’s okay if you’re busy… I just thought a reschedule would be good.

With bated breath she waited, her cheeks turning impossibly more read, as if that was something scientifically possible. But still, they tried.

I’m all yours. I have to make up for bailing last week.

All nerves rushed out of Lexa’s body and she tilted her head just in time to see a waitress smile and bite her lip as she tucked her phone in her back pocket.

“What?” Gus asked.

“Nothing.”

The house was almost always fairly quiet. Sometimes, a basketball game echoed from the living room while her father napped with files and his BlackBerry buzzing beside him. Sometimes, tiny conversations took place between her parents, that Lexa caught the tal end of or she would infer what the rest meant, or better yet, that she would just ignore completely, never even hearing what they mentioned.

But it was a Wednesday, and the rain was pelting the windows while the leaves that were left on the trees dripped and rattled. Soccer practice was cancelled, and debate had been a rip roaring good time. Tutoring cancelled and she couldn’t bring herself to go to the diner without an excuse, for fear of seeming like a stalker, thus leaving Lexa nothing to do but go home.

With the semester winding down, and the homework load less than ever, all that Lexa could do was try not to look at her phone too much. And thus, she ambled around the house with nothing to do and too much on her mind. Things had been different this year. Things were just… she was just… different. That was the only word she had for it. She felt like she was waking up, finally, and she didn’t recognize where she was anymore.

That was how Lexa somehow found herself flopping down on the couch while her mother worked.

“Hey, honey, how was school?”

“Good, fine, yeah, great,” Lexa nodded, crossing and recrossing her legs. She lulled her head and looked toward her mother. “What’s for dinner?”

“Your dad is picking up Thai on his way home. You can make it another hour I hope.”

“Barely.”

“I believe in you.”

Elegant and slender, her mother adjusted her glasses, tilting her head back as she flipped another page in the stack of papers she was sorting and marking up. For the longest, Lexa looked at her, curious if she’d ever actually looked at her before. Suddenly, she was thinking of these things. Suddenly, she was aware of the world, as if she’d been asleep for a long, long time, and now was in control enough to notice. She saw that her mother tilted her head to the side when she read. And she still wore the necklace her husband got her for their second anniversary. And her favorite sweatshirt was older than her oldest daughter, and still getting miles put on it.

Lexa saw her mother differently, and all at once, just like her father was suddenly new again. It was like seeing a stranger and realizing they were an old friend, one that moved away long ago, one that you knew who they once were, and from that tried to construct them again, but came up with a hollow anagram of what they might be.

“Do I have something on my face?” her mother asked with a smile as she adjusted her glasses.

“Mom, I like Clarke.”

“We like her too,” her mother nodded. “Polite and smart. Nice choice in friend.”

“No, no,” Lexa shook her head and took a deep breath. “You’re not understanding me. I need you to understand me. I like Clarke. I like her like… I like her in a kiss each other kind of way.”

Those weren’t the right words, but Lexa hadn’t planned on anything like that. She hadn’t planned on coming out, she never knew she had to do it officially, just that she never told anyone, not even Luna. Anya knew only because she knew everything, so no formalities needed.

She was afraid of meeting her mother’s eyes, because Lexa was afraid of disappointing her. She was afraid of a lot of things, but mostly, changing. And nothing was staying the same anymore for her. She needed to put her foot down and establish a baseline.

“You like Clarke,” her mother repeated, measuring her words. “Thank goodness, because she likes you too, and I thought I was reading it wrong.”

“Wait. What?”

“I don’t want to react too strongly. You don’t tell us things, and I just… I don’t want to scare you from telling me things. I’m very happy though. Clarke is a nice girl.”

“You’re… this is okay?”

“Oh, Lexa,” her mother sighed.

She didn’t care that her daughter wasn’t a hugger. She didn’t care that she was nervous. She just had to show her what all the words would fail to say, and so she wrapped her arms around her daughter and hugged her tightly, clinging there and not letting go.

Startled by it, Lexa held her breath before letting out a long breath and relaxing into her mother’s embrace. She dug her nose into her shoulder, felt lips kiss her temple while arms squeezed her shoulders. It was only a little while later that she realized she was clinging back to her mother even tighter.

“It’s like we don’t know each other anymore, and I’m sorry for that,” the mother whispered. “But I’m here for you to tell me these things. I’m here to be your biggest fan and support.”

“I want to quit debate club.”

“Okay.”

“And government.”

“What does this–”

“I want to have a life. I will keep soccer and track, and pick up A/V club,” Lexa wagered. “But I want to have time to just… just… think, and see you, and I don’t know. Why are you crying?”

To her credit, Dianne Woods did her best to not appear to be crying. She couldn’t really remember the last time she allowed herself to cry, and yet, when it started, she couldn’t stop it, even though she smiled through it. Her daughter just looked back at her, oddly confused at it and unsure of what she could do or had done.

“When you turned eight, I don’t know what happened. You just got quiet. It wasn’t that you weren’t naturally a quiet kid, I just remember thinking that you were different. Your brain worked different, and I failed because instead of trying harder, I just resigned myself to believing that you were just a quiet kid.”

“All I’ve had are expectations.”

“We expect a lot.” she nodded. “But I saw you with Clarke, and I just realized that I don’t know my own daughter. And that’s how I always felt my mother was, and I don’t want that, and I’m so sorry, Lexa.”

Once again, she was consumed in a hug, and Lexa missed telling her father because there was less hugging and crying. Significantly less, actually.

“We’re fine,” Lexa promised.

“I want to hear everything though. Start to finish.”

“We don’t have to–”

“Come on, just tell me a little,” Dianna smiled and tugged her daughter onto the couch, refusing to let her escape

With a huff, Lexa agreed only because her mother’s eyes were still glassy and it was something they both needed, no matter how much it hurt.

“She’s just so pretty and smart and funny. I can’t think straight near her. It’s exhausting to have a crush on someone. I once spilled my water bottle all over myself at practice because she was watching.”

“I’m sure she gets flustered too.”

“Never!”

Her mother wiped her cheeks again and smiled at the idea of her daughter being bashful near a pretty girl. Lexa gave in, telling her mother everything that happened over the past few months, and for a moment, finally talking about it made it real, and she felt a little more of herself move on from the weight of the past.

It was nothing. Nothing at all. Nothing different than what they’d already done a few times already. It was nothing.

Except it was something.

Lexa couldn’t escape that thought as she stood in front of her closet and stared at the clothes that hung there and couldn’t pick the right thing to wear. It was just a movie. It was just hanging out. It was just… everything.

Fall settled neatly outside. The leave fell and left skeletal arms and arthritic fingers for branches, naked and wobbling in the breeze and chill. Halloween decorations remained, despite being a good two weeks removed from the holiday, while it was too early for Christmas lights and festive cheer, leaving a limbo in the neighborhood.

It was getting closer to the end of the semester, and somehow, after just a few months at school, Lexa managed a date with the most beautiful girl she’d ever dreamed possible. Things were different, and for some reason, she felt like she wasn’t stuck or heavy or different. For some reason, she felt normal. It wasn’t all Clarke’s fault or doing, but rather the things that went into Clarke, that helped with everything else. Her parents knew. They talked now, and had dinner, and they listened a bit better than before. It was almost like they’d all pressed paused on their lives, and were slowly starting again, renewed, but not restored.

Without moving at all, Lexa dialed her sister and waited impatiently for her to pick up so that she could full begin her complete and total freak out before her da–

“Six rings is excessive. You always have your phone on you,” Lexa muttered, biting the inside of her cheek.

“Hello, Lexa,” Anya chirped. “How are you doing?”

“What do you wear on a date?”

The clothes taunted her while the clock made her anxious. Every second ticked closer to the date, and she was falling behind quite swiftly.

“Wear what you’d normally wear.”

“I think she likes me platonically, but I want her to like me romantically. I can’t wear friendly clothes. I have to wear date clothes. I don’t own any date clothes.”

“Well, what are you going to do on this date?” Anya grinned to herself, trying not to be too amused at her sister’s troubles. “That should narrow things down a little.”

“Going to see a movie.”

“Ah.”

“What does that mean?” Lexa furrowed and crossed her arm over her stomach as she stared at her clothes without seeing them.

“Nothing, nothing. Just wear something you’ll feel comfortable in, but something she’ll know means you want to kiss her.”

“That’s why I’m calling you!”

“Alright, alright,” she tutted. “Wear those black jeans and that cute sweater, with your boots. It’s casual and comfortable, but you look good in those pants.”

“Are you sure?”

“Do you think maybe you’re projecting your worries on your clothes?”

“Yeah, no shit I am,” Lexa grunted as she tugged the items out of her closet and set about putting them on. Arms halfway in her sleeves, she heard the commotion downstairs to indicate someone was at the door, and she panicked. “Fuck, she’s here.”

“Hey, just be yourself. She’ll like–”

“Thanks, Anya,” she interrupted and tossed her phone on the bed as she continued to tug clothes on completely.

Despite the hurry, as soon as she slipped on her boots and stopped in front of the mirror before leaving her room, Lexa took a moment to stare at herself, to really give herself a look. Anya was right, of course, and she’d tell her as much if she survived the night. But Lexa just adjusted her glasses and tried to take a deep breath though it wasn’t easy. She gave herself a once over and tried to fix her hair until she wasn’t sure how she even looked anymore.

She was going on her first official date with Clarke Griffin, and there was no going back.

With that finality, she finally made her way toward the stairs, ready to face it head on, or at least as best she could. It might have been easier if she hadn’t had such a crush and then become friends. But that only made it worse. There was no way she’d be able–

“Wow,” Lexa gulped as she found Clarke standing in the foyer, talking to her parents like old friends. She earned a smile and equally appraising eyes. “You look great. Amazing. Really good.”

“Same to you,” Clarke smiled, assuring Lexa that things were alright. It had that effect, while simultaneously making her palms sweat and her shoulders shiver.

The cheerleader knew what to wear on a date. Lexa was fairly certain she didn’t have to call someone to help them pick out something simple like a sweater. There was no way Clarke didn’t already just know how to do those things, and there’s no way she looked that amazing on accident.

Lexa liked Clarke’s lips, now darker red. She liked her eyes. She liked her skirt and jacket and she liked her smile. She spent too long liking those things and not saying anything though, as her father soon let her know with a gentle clearing of his throat.

“We’re going to a movie,” she finally said. “I’ll be home around midnight.”

“You have school tomorrow.”

“That’s my fault,” Clarke offered. “I worked yesterday and cancelled last week.”

“I’ll be fine,” Lexa promised. “I’ll see you later.”

“No later than twelve,” her mother interjected.

Lexa nudged Clarke toward the door.

“Love you, bye,” she nodded.

From the living room, her father gave her a big smile and a thumbs up, making her blush. Quickly, she shut the door and took a deep breath, grateful for the chill in the evening and the fact that Clarke couldn’t see her mortified frown in the dark. Instead, Clarke just sighed and smiled.

“Shall we start this, officially?” Clarke began.

“Please.”

The movie theater was almost empty. Sunday was particularly slow, but still, Lexa was anxious with the enormity of the first date. Her own nerves betrayed themselves in every movement, despite the fact that they’d hung out together. They’d kissed already. It shouldn’t have been so terrible.

“You’re quiet,” Clarke murmured after they settled in their seats.

The auditorium had a few other people in it, but they were alone for a good radius. Lexa bit the straw to the drink they’d share and offered a shy smile.

“I guess I’m still kind of just waiting to say the wrong thing,” she shrugged. “I don’t want to do that.”

“And what might you say that would be wrong?”

“I’m not sure. I don’t want to find out.”

Whatever it was, Clarke chuckled and shook her head before leaning deeper into the chair, putting her feet up on the one in front of her as she prepared for the feature presentation. She lulled her head to the side and stared at Lexa.

“I am very happy to be here with you. Thanks for waiting around for me,” Clarke offered. “You are really amazing, just so you know.”

“I don’t know about that,” Lexa blushed and cleared her throat.

“I do. Now tell me everything I need to know about this movie.”

That was easy enough, and Lexa began talking until her words and blurred together. They chatted easily, and for some reason, she just had a little confidence. Perhaps it was the topic, perhaps it was the person, perhaps it was the little part of her that actually believed Clarke liked here that sometimes grew and flashed and told her to try.

It didn’t so much matter why, just that Clarke felt a certain peace in the movie theater with the girl who fixed her car and had a head full of flyaways after soccer practice.

About fifteen minutes into the movie, Lexa took a sip of their drink and after returning it, felt Clarke slip her own hand into her’s. She squeezed, just to make sure it was real, and sure enough, Clarke was holding her hand. On purpose.

She couldn’t remember much else from the film.

There was still time after the movie, and Lexa was not interested in going home just yet. She didn’t want to ever go home. She didn’t want school to come, and she didn’t want things to change. She just wanted this.

“It’s a little cold for ice cream,” Lexa murmured as she shivered and sat on the edge of Clarke’s tailgate, furrowing at her cone that still dripped despite the chill in the autumn air.

“But it’s so good,” Clarke disagreed with a slight pout. “Plus, I like fresh air whenever I get a chance, and I’m sick of Oscar’s food. Our ice cream isn’t this good.”

“I kind of like it.”

“Good. Wouldn’t want to risk a future date.”

“No risk in that,” she mumbled before licking her ice cream. “You’re shivering.”

“I’m fine. My mom says my stubborness will keep me toasty.”

Despite her words, Clarke shivered again, and Lexa slid closer to her, without thinking about it, without meaning to at all. Instead, she just got some body heat.

“I can help with keeping warm, too,” Lexa offered, obliviously eating her cone.

It was those moments, those acts and words that left Clarke absolutely flabbergasted. How could someone so absolutely dense and daft be smooth without trying, and a complete nerd about everything else the rest? Mathematically it didn’t make sense, and either Lexa was a complete genius, or really was oblivious. Clarke knew it was the latter, but still questioned it at times.

“You’re not fooling anyone, Woods,” Clarke accused before returning to her snack.

“Huh?”

“Want to trade?”

“What?” Lexa furrowed again.

“I want to try yours. We should swap. We get 2 flavors then,” Clarke explained rationally.

Lexa eyed her date and smiled because naturally she would think of things like that. Without any hesitation, she handed over her cone and accepted Clarke’s, earning a smile.

The porch light was still on when they pulled back into Lexa’s driveway. The house was mostly dark save for some lamp in the living room, which didn’t tell anyone if there were people waiting up inside, but Lexa didn’t want to risk it, and neither did Clarke. So they sat there in the truck and knew that it was over, just not how to end it.

“I had a really good time tonight,” Lexa finally tried, running her hands over her thighs a few times to work up some courage. “We should go out again?”

“We definitely should. Another official date. And maybe hang out more in between?” Clarke offered, with her own level of insecurity wafting in despite her best efforts.

“Oh yeah, definitely. I’d like that. Of course. Yes. Yes, we should.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

Clarke fiddled with the steering wheel before looking over at her date and seeing some of the stress slide away from her jaw and cheeks, no longer holding it in so tightly, but rather relaxing into their date and the reciprocated feelings.

“What was your favorite part of the date?” Lexa asked.

“I quite liked the part where you offered to keep me warm. It’s weird, but it was just this nice, good, honest moment that I don’t think you knew you did.” Clarke ducked her head and remembered it. “I think it says a lot about you as a person.”

“I liked the movie.”

Clarke laughed this time and Lexa felt her mouth pull into a smile, though confused.

“That was your favorite part?” she complained half-heartedly. “I took you for ice cream. My secret ice cream spot. And held our hand.”

“It was a really good movie,” she shrugged. “And the other stuff was great too. But my favorite part hasn’t happened yet.”

“Oh?”

“We were sitting in a similar position when you kissed me. I really want to kiss you. That’ll be my favorite part, but we don’t have to, and it still would be the best date of my life. The only one, actually,” Lexa rambled. “But also, I don’t need that. I just was kind of looking forward to it, but it doesn’t matter. The whole date was the best par–”

Clarke made her be quiet the only way she knew how, and that was to kiss Lexa once again. This one took a bit of adjusting, but Clarke slid across the seat a bit and she waited for Lexa to stop talking, but she did it. She kissed her and she felt her heart skip.

It was a good kiss. Hell, it was a great kiss. It was the best kiss, and it did nothing to make Lexa calm down at all. Instead, she grew so excited, it felt like her brain was going to overheat and her lungs were impossible to inflate.

“I just. Hold on,” Lexa mumbled as she pulled away. “I just need a second.”

“I’m sorry,” Clarke hurried. “I didn’t mean–”

“No, no that was. Yeah, that was perfect. Great. That was amazing. I just… it was too amazing. I need to come back.”

“Too advanced flirting?”

“Just right,” she corrected. “I just… wow.”

“I’m thinking that we kiss more, like, in general,” Clarke decided, offering the proposition with a manner of business-like confidence. “Not just tonight.”

“You want to kiss me more?”

“I want to kiss you all of the time.”

“Oh,” Lexa nodded to herself and chanced a look at the flushed face of the prettiest cheerleader that she’d ever seen. “We can do that.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

“Great date,” Clarke grinned and leaned forward slightly, needing Lexa to meet her part of the way.

For a long time, they kissed. Lexa felt hands move to her side and her hip and her neck and she didn’t want to ever stop the kissing part. A few times, the ad that popped up in front of her hair was the simple fact that she was making out with Clarke Griffin. That was a fact that kept her very confused and happy.

“You should go inside,” Clarke finally interrupted the kissing to bring back the real world. “I think your parents like me, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

“But I like this too much,” Lexa disagreed and pushed forward to kiss Clarke back. She felt her hand slip lower on her date’s chest and she wanted to see how far she was going to be allowed to go.

“You have to.”

“Fine.”

“We can date, though. You know? Dating. We’re dating. If you want.”

“I want,” Lexa nodded quickly. “I want it a lot.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

“Great,” Clarke nodded and smiled. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“Great date,” Lexa decided once again to herself as she slid out of the cab of the truck. “Great date.”

From the driver’ seat in the old truck, Clarke watched her date climb the steps and make her way inside. She couldn’t stop smiling, but as soon as Lexa was out of sight, Clarke leaned her forehead against the steering wheel and said a tiny prayer, that this goodness would stick.

Chapter Text

The trees were just a shade away from naked. The limbs, covered in a sporadic smattering of yellow and red and orange and brown, were nothing my knotted, bony sticks, waiting for a final chill or gust of late November bluster to leave them bare for the winter. Dark grey and just tinged in the spots of stubborn color, the trees all blurred past in a cloud of indistinguishable individual pieces.

The car crept along through the holiday traffic, weaving its way up the highway and the rest of the families on their way to pick up a loved one. As much as Lexa hated driving, the idea of having to wait to see her sister was entirely unappetizing. And thus she found herself gripping the wheel and clenching her jaw as she made her way to the airport.

Naturally, her overeagerness to see her sister meant Lexa arrived much too early, and she found herself staring at the Arrivals board for a familiar flight and helplessly checking her watch. Begrudgingly she finally took a spot leaning against a window as she scrolled through her phone for a little while before she realized she was staring at a picture that Clarke had posted of the two of them together on their date, with pink cheeks from the cold and big cones of ice cream near their smiles.

She went on a date with Clarke Griffin and survived it and it was great and the past week and a half had been magic. She was fluttering high on the season and the feeling of kissing a cheerleader and holding her hand, whilst being simultaneously crushed by the realization that she had a major crush on Clarke and perhaps she felt the same way. What the hell did that mean and what came next?

School started three months before, and Lexa felt different. She never really thought of change because nothing ever changed. And after Aden, things just kind of fell into this rhythm, this depressing, predictable droning monotony. But then Anya left, and then Clarke gave Lexa a Cherry Coke, and everything was upside down.

But Lexa smiled and blushed when she looked at the picture, and when she thought about Clarke’s fingers on her neck, toying her her hair and the weight of her eyes and that felt good.

“Lexa!”

She shoved her phone in her pocket and felt her heart grow light.

Still tall and beautiful and effortlessly cool, her older sister appeared and grinned before dropping her bag and swallowed her up into a hug. Before she could do anything, Lexa found her arms contracting and holding tightly to her sister, tighter than she imagined, tighter than she meant to, relieved to have her back, even for just a few days, even if she had to share her. It didn’t matter. For a little while, all of the change could be backed up and things could be normal.

“Wow, I didn’t expect this kind of welcome,” Anya teased, unable to pull away from her sister’s grip for a few extra seconds. She could feel Lexa’s tension dissipate. “I missed you too.”

“I’m so glad you’re home.”

“I can tell.”

“But will you drive? I hate it.”

All she could do was smile and roll her eyes because things never changed at home, even after being gone for three months. She held her hand out for the keys, which Lexa eagerly handed over, and helped pick up her other bag.

They made it approximately to the highway before Lexa remembered what not being an only child felt like and regretted her gratefulness in having a sibling back in the picture.

“So how’s everything going?”

“Good,” Lexa shrugged, relaxing in the passenger seat. “I quit government and joined A/V club. We’re making a hype video for basketball now.”

“Hm. Interesting. And how’re the projects with Luna coming?”

“Alright,” she shrugged again. “We did this horror movie at a cabin and just editing it.”

“Do I get to see some?”

“If you want.”

“Mom still busy?”

“She’s good. I think she kind of came back, if that makes sense? I don’t know,” she shrugged again and again and again. “She cooked dinner twice last week.”

“Weird.”

“Yeah, and she went to see a movie with me a few days ago.”

“Wow,” Anya furrowed at the new information as she scanned the roads in front of their car. “I’m glad though.”

It wasn’t that their mother was uncaring or even disinterested, just that she lost a child, a child that she bore and loved and hugged and yelled at, and kissed, and healed, and sang to sleep, and sometimes people just didn’t know what to do when a part of themselves disappeared forever. There was no going back to being the person before, and there was no moving forward, and so their mother closed her eyes and disappeared completely, as if shielding herself from a feather’s weight of pain.

“And Dad started coming home early sometimes, to help me on the car.”

“You’re working on the car?”

The information was surprising. Anya hadn’t thought about the almost finished shell of her car that sat in the graveyard of the garage. She certainly hadn’t expected her father to come home early. He hadn’t in years. He was even late to her own graduation.

After Aden, Lexa refused to look at the cars. She wouldn’t even go into the garage, instead electing to meet everyone in the driveway. It was maddening, and yet apparently things changed, though Anya had trouble grappling with it. None of it computed.

“The bus smells like stale throw up,” Lexa shrugged, her shoulders getting a workout as she tried to explain herself.

“And what’s the plan for tonight? Mom told me I could pick where we go eat.”

“We should go to that Thai place. The one with the pig wings and those noodles.”

“That does sound good,” her sister agreed. “We’ll have to save room. I promised Gus I’d meet him for lunch.”

“Seriously? You can’t put him out of his misery?” Lexa groaned and let her head fall back against the seat in defeat. “He is just finally getting over his crush on you.”

“We’re just friends.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Do you want to come, or am I dropping you off at home?” Anya smiled, despite herself at her sister’s knowing look.

The cars and the trees and the branches and the leaves, they all blurred outside and Lexa was grateful for how familiar it all felt. Her sister, driving her around, asking her too many questions to answer, the tinge of dirt in the air, the feeling of the heat blowing through the vents, the weight of her old coat and the pilling inside the sleeves from its years of shielding her. The world was aligned.

“I’ve got some leftover French homework to finish. But you can bring me leftovers, if you want. Where are you going?”

“Oscars.”

The blood drained from Lexa’s face and she felt her eyes grow with the news. Her mouth went dry.

“Um, Oscar’s? Like the diner on Fifth?” Her voice betrayed the worry, though she attempted nonchalant valiantly.

“I think Gus is just nostalgic. We used to go there after games and grab a bite.”

“Alright, yeah, cool, sure, okay, yeah,” Lexa nodded, faster and faster with each word. “I could eat. I’m starving.”

“Awesome. I don’t have to double back then,” Anya smiled and adjusted the radio.

Lexa feigned a grin and went back to this growing pit in her stomach that was her sister being in the same building as Clarke, with Gus there, to add his commentary. And all at once it made sense. Her sister kept tab on her, and she knew where Clarke worked, and Gus was a double agent, and as soon as the panic began to fade, a different kind of nerve worked its way through her muscles.

But it felt weird. And Lexa wasn’t sure why, except that she wasn’t sure what to do.

And so she sighed and slunk deeper into the seat.

“You look great,” Gus grinned and hugged Anya.

Anxiously, Lexa looked around the diner and fiddled with the edge of the sleeve of her sweater because she had to do something with her hands to keep her brain from devoting all efforts to freaking out.

Her sister and tutee exchanged pleasantries and sat down in a familiar booth, excited to see each other again, to confirm that old feelings were just that, while she tagged along and held her breath because if Anya met Clarke, then it could all be real, and if it was real, it could end.

When she woke up this morning, Lexa hadn’t thought about her sister meeting Clarke, but now she was confronted with this feeling of fear, that maybe things were going so well and this would change it. She wasn’t sure how or why. But Anya might have an opinion, and then she might think differently about her feelings for Clarke. Or Anya might point something out, or she might confirm Lexa’s worst fears, that Clarke really was too good for her, and then what? Where would that knowledge leave her? Because her sister wouldn’t lie to her, and if she knew the truth, then–

“Hey guys, sorry it took me a minute. We’re a bit busy,” Clarke greeted the table and all thoughts disappeared from Lexa’s brain. She just gaped back at the waitress. “Hey.” She earned her own smile and greeting.

“Hi,” Lexa managed, blushing despite herself. “Sorry, hey. Yes. Clarke, this is my sister. She’s home for Thanksgiving break. Anya, this is Clarke, my– um. Friend. Clarke.”

“We’ve met a few times before in passing I think. But it’s nice to officially meet you. Did you just fly in?”

“Just arrived,” Anya nodded. “Lexa didn’t tell me you worked here.”

“But she talked about me?” Clarke teased.

“What? No, not like– just–” Lexa tried.

“Just the basics.”

“Good. I’m honored,” the waitress smiled. “Can I get you guys something?”

Thankfully, they ordered without incident, and Lexa accepted a drink on Clarke’s second visit. Her friend and her sister waited until the blonde disappeared again to bring anything up, immediately asking questions they already almost knew the answers to, and Lexa did her best to not feel like her heart was pounding through her throat.

Anya waited until the food came and after spending the entire meal watching her sister try not to look at Clarke. She changed the subject to catching up with her old prom date and tried to help the blush Lexa couldn’t seem to get rid of just yet, no matter how calm she was. It was adorable, in this innocent, genuine kind of way, and as much as Anya liked her sister coming out of her shell, the potential pain made her nervous.

But to her credit, the waitress would sneak looks at the table almost as much. And when she stopped by to check on them, she leaned closer to Lexa, smiling at her and blushing slightly as well. If she wasn’t mistaken, then she would have guessed that they both were quite serious about the other.

“I’ll meet you in the car,” Anya offered as they finished lunch and it grew later. “Walk me out, Gus.”

“I’ll, uh, I’ll just say bye,” Lexa swallowed.

“You should invite Clarke over or something.”

“Maybe,” she shrugged, earning a groan as her sister shook her head.

Just outside of the car, Anya leaned against it and watched her sister through the window as Gus stood beside her. She hadn’t come to embarrass her sister, just to see it in action. She’d heard so much from Gus about how Lexa had come out of her shell, and she needed the proof, and sure enough, there it was, right in front of her.

Nervously, Lexa toyed with a straw wrapper and waited for the waitress to make her round. She stacked everything neatly, cleaning as best she could.

“She’s got it bad,” Anya sighed.

“Clarke’s good people,” Gus promised.

“I know how happy she is about this,” the big sister nodded, “but for me that just means she can get hurt even harder.”

“Lexa isn’t your shadow anymore. She’s her own person. She’s… she’s different.”

“And I’m glad, I’m just nervous. Clarke could break her heart.”

The two overprotective siblings stood outside and watched the waitress in question approached and smiled. They shook their heads when, as a result, Lexa spilled a cup of ice and hurried to rectify it, making Clarke laugh and smile. The two inside spoke for a bit before Lexa nodded and accepted a hug that lasted a bit longer than polite.

“I don’t know,” Gus sighed. “The Woods girls are quite the heartbreakers in their own rite.”

Before Anya could respond, her sister joined them in the crisp autumn air, her cheeks and nose already pinker than normal. But Gus was right, that there was something different there, in how she carried herself, in how she smiled, in the carefreeness that had been missing for so long, her sister almost didn’t recognize it.

Anya put her arm over her sister’s shoulder.

“Let’s head home, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Lexa nodded.

Unlike previous years, the Thanksgiving feast was homemade and contained the entire family for the entire day. The house burst with the smells of dinner and the warmth of the oven and stove working in double overtime, something they were not explicitly accustomed to anymore.

Anya barely recognized her parents. Her room remained untouched and exactly as she left it, but the house was different. Music bubbled up from the garage as her father and sister worked on finishing her car. Files were left on the desk in the study, her mother’s briefcase not as full as it normally was, slumbered quietly and undisturbed on a chair while the giant old recipe book got another layer of flour on the counter.

From her spot on the stool, Anya flipped through a magazine and watched her mother smear a bit of the white powder across her forehead as she fought with some pie crust. Her parents were always attentive and did their best, but they were broken. Little bits of life came back to them though, and she couldn’t figure out how.

“Lexa said she’s been working on the cars with Dad the past month,” Anya observed. Her mother smiled to herself as she muscled the dough flat and circular.

“They have. It’s been nice.”

“Clarke’s coming by later tonight. Watch a movie.”

“I like Clarke,” she decided, surveying her baking. “She’s a sweetheart.”

“Lex said you two have been supportive. Too supportive, but still.” She earned a smile.

For a moment, the epitome of hardworking, the idol when it came to most of her life, the beautiful, the talented, the brilliant, the passionate woman who Anya was afraid she didn’t look enough alike, she stood there and looked like she felt the weight of the past.

“I used to know you,” her mother said, pausing her ministrations of the dough. “I used to know my kids, and then I woke up and you were strangers, and that’s my fault. That’s our fault. I hope one day you don’t feel that. You should always know parts of your kids, how they’re feeling, who they are– before even they do. And I didn’t.”

Anya met her mother’s eyes and felt how heavy they were with how honest they’d become. It felt ancient and it felt like it was pulling back from the past all of the memories she once had but never seemed to allow herself to remember.

“I love you both so much. And I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have–”

“I do. And I am,” she interrupted quickly. “So I’m going to be very supportive, because ever since Clarke, Lexa’s been different. She’s happy. She’s alive, and I love that.”

“She’s definitely different,” Anya nodded.

Dianne smile and went back to rolling her dough, busying herself to avoid the truth in her confession. But it was hard, and this was necessary.

“Aden took up so much of our hearts and time. And Lexa….” she shook her head and moved the crust to the pan. “Lexa has always been different. But you’ve always been strong, and you’ve always been so independent.”

“It’s no big deal.”

“It is a big deal. It’s huge. And I know you are also keeping an eye on your sister. But how are you?”

“I’m good.”

“I mean really,” her mother persisted, giving her a glance over the filling as she slathered it into the dish.

“I’m actually good. School is okay, and I was worried about leaving, but Lex seems to be okay, and you and Dad are… well, almost normal.”

Her mother chuckled at the description before pausing to take a sip from her glass of wine that was ever ready on the holiday preparation line.

“Are we really being too supportive?” she grinned.

“I made Lexa get lunch at the Diner where Clarke works. I think her head about exploded.”

“See! So it’s not just us!” her mother clapped her hands together victoriously. “You’re just as curious.”

“Maybe just tone back the sex talks.”

“I had to do research. I wanted her to be prepared. Just because she can’t get pregnant doesn’t mean she still can’t be safe.”

“I don’t know. I saw them together, and I don’t think Lexa can even hold her hand without dying.”

“True. She’s a mess around that girl,” her mother laughed, and Anya realized it might have been the first time she’d hear it in a long, long time. “She reminds me of your father, honestly. You were much more like me. Cool and calm and adored.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah. You dad was a fumbling mess,” she remembered. “Took him a few tries to ask me out properly. The first time he tried to kiss me, he nearly missed and his hands were all sweaty.”

“Wow. I never knew that.”

“But he was so earnest and kind and honest. I knew he liked me. Lots of people don’t want you to know how much they like you. He didn’t even try to hide it. I like that about him.”

“I think deep down, Lexa wears her heart on her sleeve, you just have to look for it.”

“That’s a good way to put it,” Dianne nodded and slid the bowl with a few more apples at the bottom across the counter to her daughter.

Sweet and sticky, Anya dug one out and crunched it while her mother worked on weaving a top crust for her perfect pie.

“Is it hard… to find someone like Dad?” she asked, her voice a little quieter. “I mean. Someone who treats you like that?”

“You’ll know it when it happens. Just because you’re naturally a little more reserved doesn’t mean you also can’t be very earnest and kind and honest. We have the luxury of not being absolute messes around our crush.”

“Thank God for that,” Anya exhaled.

“Now I’m curious. Tell me about this lunch you used to meet your sister’s crush.”

By the time Lexa and her father grew too hungry to pay too much attention to the tasks at hand in the garage, by the time the house was filled with the savory smell of dinner, they made their way upstairs to find the oldest and the mom laughing together in the kitchen. Lexa paused beside her father as Anya set the table and hung on her mother’s story.

“I was really hoping the turkey would be out,” her father sighed.

“Me too,” she nodded, hand migrating to her stomach as it rumbled in agreement.

It wasn’t that she was hovering, except that she definitely was within a few steps of the front door for the entire hour before Clarke was due to arrive, and everyone noticed. After the dishes were washed and dried and put away, after the bottle of wine disappeared between the parents, after the pie was raved about and everyone was content and settled on the couch lounging away the rest of the holiday, Lexa nervously texted Clarke.

“I’ll get it!” she hopped up instantly at the first chime.

In no time at all, Lexa found herself opening the door to a cute girl who had pink-tinted cheeks and her hands shoved deep in her jacket against the chill of late November.

“Hey,” she whispered.

“Hi.”

It was the holiday or the full stomach or any other reason, except Lexa couldn’t particularly pinpoint it. But she relaxed instantly as Clarke wrapped her arms around her neck and hugged her, bringing in the nip of autumn and making Lexa shiver.

“You look very pretty,” Lexa offered when Clarke pulled away and slid off her coat.

“And you look spectacular.”

“So. My room? I have the movie waiting. Do you want a snack or drink or anything first?”

“I don’t think I can eat another bite, but we can grab some drinks.”

“Okay, um, do you want to just head up, and I can meet you?”

“I’ll get lost in this place,” Clarke chuckled. “Lead away. I promise not to touch anything.”

The offer existed because they had to pass the living room if drinks were involved and Lexa wanted to avoid that at all costs, but knew it would be nearly impossible. Next time she’d have drinks waiting. She’d be prepared. This was her own fault. With a small, quick smile, she nodded and turned quickly toward the kitchen.

“Hey, Clarke, I thought that’d be you. Happy Thanksgiving, sweetheart,” the matriarch greeted the newest addition to the house.

“Good evening Mrs. Woods, Mr. Woods,” she smiled politely. “Hey, Anya. Thanks for having me over on the holiday. I know it’s family time.”

“No, no. No worries,” Mr. Woods called, barely adjusting himself from his lounging on one side of the huge sectional. “I heard it’s your only day off from work.”

“Yeah, Diner is closed for the day.”

“We’re just going to grab some drinks and then go watch a movie,” Lexa stopped the familiarity because she didn’t understand it.

“Clarke, we have leftover pie and turkey and everything if you’re still hungry,” Dianne offered.

“I am much too full, but thank you.”

“What are you going to watch?” Anya asked.

“Lexa was nice enough to agree to watch the new Thor movie.”

“Good choice for the holiday.”

“I was vetoed on my Christmas movie suggestions.”

“It’s too early,” Lexa shrugged and mumbled, earning a hand on her back from Clarke, soothing her soreness.

“Have fun guys,” the mom called. “Let me know if anyone changes their mind on more food. Please. We have too much.”

“Thank you,” Clarke smiled.

It took only a few minutes before arms were loaded with supplies and the two traversed the stairs and found Lexa’s room. The family could still be heard downstairs until they reached the room at the end of the hall where it seemed to be quieter.

“I’m glad you called me to hang out. I was going crazy with all of my family in town,” Clarke mentioned as she sat on Lexa’s bed and watched her move around the room.

The entire thing was spotless. It was organized, but it was lived in. A corner held a desk with two monitors and above it a shelf with some cameras and equipment. The walls were light, pale green and had old movie posters above the larger than necessary bed. A short couch sat beside a bookshelf that was packed with books and movies and a few pictures, while school stuff covered half of it. All around the place, there were little hints of Lexa, and Clarke understood a bit better.

“I’m glad you came over,” Lexa offered, relaxing visibly after escaping her family. “I have a soccer game tomorrow, if you wanted to come watch, too.”

“Well, look at you. Inviting me twice,” she teased. “I might have to ask you out this time.”

“That would be great. One less thing to worry about.”

Lexa fiddled with her computer before a projector illuminated the wall across from her bed. Clarke watched her move, watched the blush on her ears and smiled to herself. She didn’t know how to say what she wanted to say, but she knew it had to come out.

“One day, years and years and years from now. I might tease you about how nervous you were to be around me.”

“Years?”

“You never know, right?” Clarke smiled as she kicked off her shoes and settled into the bed.

For a moment, Lexa stopped moving and remained, bent over her desk and pondering the idea that maybe something like that could happen. And her heart started pumping maple syrup through her body, warm and sticky and nice and whole.

“I’m nervous around you because I like you and maybe one thing could just… one thing could make you disappear, and I wouldn’t like that.”

It was equally honest, and like a possum afraid of being eaten, Lexa remained completely still after the words came out. She didn’t look at Clarke. She didn’t press play. She just stared at the desk and gripped her mouse and waited.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Clarke promised. “And I like your nervousness. It’s kind of sweet.”

“Good, because I can’t change it.”

“No, but you can get more comfortable around me. Slowly.”

“I am,” she promised, finally looking over her shoulder at the blonde in her bed.

“Good. Now let’s watch, and I’ll ask you out before I leave.”

Lexa smiled to herself and clicked a few more things before turning out the light so that the movie was their only source. With a quick movement, she hopped over and climbed up toward the bed where Clarke sat.

“Since we aren’t at the movies, you can talk if you want,” Lexa offered.

“I didn’t talk too much last time.”

“It was a lot.”

“You’ll just have to get used to it.”

Somewhere between the talking, naturally, and the catching up about the holidays, the movie played and Clarke somehow settled to where she was half using Lexa’s stomach as a pillow. And for longer than she’d like to admit, Lexa hovered her hand near Clarke and didn’t know what to do. Until she finally made up her mind and played with a stray lock of blonde hair, twisting it around in her fingers.

Clarke sighed and adjusted closer, placing her hand on Lexa’s knee.

With all the heat radiating from that position, Lexa wasn’t sure what to do, but she sure as hell couldn’t focus on the movie. And for the first time in her life, she didn’t care.

Chapter Text

Once again, the school was full of students again. The rain was intermittent and the chill in the air made everyone want to run inside despite the fact that they were running towards classes and teachers again. The stately brick building, ancient for its ninety or so years, half updated, and half reticent of a John Hughes movie, it welcomed the returning students for the second half the year.

The week and a half that Lexa spent with her family had been lovely and needed, though it came at quite an inopportune time. Normally, she would relish the chance to get out of town and travel, as her parents were always busy with work. But now they were trying and coming back to life, which meant a trip across the world to Iceland for the holidays. It meant, however, that Lexa was just getting somewhere with Clarke, just starting to feel comfortable, just starting to hope and feel and want, and going away was a pause on it.

Walking back into the halls and weaving her way toward her locker, Lexa felt weird, like time hadn’t passed there, but she was different. It was an eerie feeling she couldn’t quite place, but didn’t want to spend too much time trying. Instead, she twisted the dial on her locker and wondered if she’d see Clarke before lunch.

“Hey, stranger.”

Lexa smiled slightly as she finished digging her book out of her locker and turned to find a smiling girl with pretty blue eyes and a dimple on one cheek. Leaning against the locker next to Lexa’s, Clarke grinned and held her books, her bag slung on a shoulder, her hair perfectly wavy and dreamy.

For a moment, Lexa gulped again, though she was relieved.

She couldn’t really help it. Not when Clarke was there, in her baggy sweater, with barely any makeup and lips that did that.

“Hey. How are you?”

“I’m surviving. How was your trip?”

“Long,” Lexa sighed, closing her locker and leaning against it. “It was a lot of fun, but weird. We haven’t had a family vacation since Aden… Maybe we needed it.”

“Did you get lots of footage?”

“Yeah. I’m going to try to put it together for my parents.”

“I can’t wait to see it,” Clarke promised, leaning near Lexa, their shoulders touching. “The pictures looked amazing. It made me almost want to hike a glacier.”

The adventurer just shrugged and shuffled her feet slightly. They’d texted nearly the entirety of winter break, and now, Lexa wasn’t sure how much of it still applied. It was a weird thing, to be able to text someone random thoughts and string together a conversation, but it was hard to figure out how to be the same in person.

“How about you? Good time with the family?”

“It actually wasn’t terrible.” The bell interrupted their reunion and Clarke grumbled slightly. “Walk me to class?”

“Yeah, definitely.”

Without thinking about it, Lexa held out her hand and reached for Clarke’s books. She looked at her arm and wondered how it happened, how it could betray and embarrass her like that, and more importantly, how she was going to recover from it.

The panic lasted just an instant though, because Clarke took Lexa’s hand and held it in her own, not thinking twice about the action.

“You have track after school, don’t you?” Clarke asked, adjusting her hand slightly, tugging the hand a little and keeping it tight in her own.

“Yeah.”

“Do you want to hang out after?”

“Um,” Lexa furrowed and went through a mental checklist, hoping that nothing would put up a red flag. She definitely wanted to hang out with Clarke, and she definitely wanted to keep holding her hand, even if that meant never going to class again. “I have a tutoring session with Gus. Getting ready for his SAT next month.”

“Okay, maybe another day.”

“After?”

“After tutoring?” Clarke asked, pausing in front of her classroom.

“Yeah, it wouldn’t be for long, but we could… I don’t know… Just hang out. Even for a little bit. That’d be nice.”

“It would.” Clarke waited for more, watching Lexa debate how to do it. “Or we could hang out now.”

“Now?” Lexa cocked her head, confused but still smiling.

Clarke looked around at the hall as it began to clear before the second bell. She tugged on Lexa’s hand and met some resistance. No one else really noticed that they were lingering. Everyone was still feeling a certain freedom, or loss of it, as the winter break ended and the grind began again.

“Just one time.”

“I have calculus,” she furrowed.

“Haven’t you ever skipped before?” Naturally, Clarke was met with a shake of a head and a look of moderate panic. “Do you want to skip once in your life?”

“I’ve never thought about it.”

“You’ve got about a minute to decide.”

“Can we do that?” Lexa wondered. “Just leave?”

“It’s the first day back. You know we’re not going to go over anything important.”

“Are you actually serious?”

“Yeah. I could use a day off.”

“We just had like twelve days.”

“I spent most of them with family and hanging out with my dad or working. I’m kind of over taking care of people and paying attention.”

Clarke said things like that so succinctly, so purposefully, that it reminded Lea of the words she’d read once that said something about being brave and quiet, so that no one else sees or realizes you’re suffering. No one would guess Clarke suffered so much under such heavy burdens. No one would guess that she had them to begin with, and Lexa was learning Clarke liked it that way, to keep things to herself.

But she caught herself saying those things, and Clarke cleared her throat and put her hand on her hip, taunting and waiting.

“I have to be back in time for practice,” Lexa finally gave in.

“You won’t regret it,” Clarke squealed and kissed Lexa’s cheek before tugging her toward the door as the bell rang again and the halls were completely empty.

“I hate the mall,” Lexa grimaced as she hopped out of Clarke’s truck and stared up at the monstrosity that was the Edgewood Mall.

Two towns over from their school and everything familiar, Lexa only knew the rival area because of track meets or soccer games, and once, an academic decathlon tournament, though she never left the hotel or the school. There wasn’t much in the sleepy suburb, but it had the benefit of being forty five minutes away from any adult that would notice them.

“Yes, but do you hate it when it’s empty on a Monday?”

“I don’t know. Probably.”

Clarke rolled her eyes and grabbed Lexa’s hand again, tugging her along once again into the great unknown. The clouds trudged along while the rain stopped, but neither pulled down their hoods until they made it inside.

“Have I steered you wrong yet?”

“Not yet.”

“So trust me.”

There wasn’t really an option to it, and in all fairness, Lexa did trust Clarke. She just wanted to spend time near her because near her, time seemed to stop stressing her out, and the minutes were just… happier.

And so Lexa followed, still vaguely aware that she should technically be leaving first period and heading to Physics. Instead, she felt Clarke’s hand and pulled down her hood as they walked into the near empty mall.

“What are we going to do first?” Lexa wondered out loud.

“I have decided to dress you.”

“You don’t like how I dress?”

For a second, Lexa paused and looked down at her coat, and beneath that, the simple shirt and jeans she was wearing. It did the job, and it kept her dressed. She never really considered clothes often.

“I do. I’ve just kind of always wanted to see you in a few different outfits.”

“No funny business, Griffin.”

“Scouts honor,” Clarke promised.

The joy was contagious, as much as she wanted to resist, Lexa followed into a store and held out her arms as new items were added to them. When she asked Clarke if this was her idea of a good time, she got a smile and shrug, and she decided this was what she had to do now. To her credit, Clarke mulled over everything she picked, carefully pairing together things, continually shuffling Lexa’s arms, occasionally standing closer.

At least once, Lexa looked down at Clarke and smiled, distracted by the way her eyes looked, and how she bit her lip when she debated a choice. Lexa liked the debating part. She liked the lip part too. She liked the biting part even more for some reason.

The first few outfits were met with excitement. And to her own credit, Lexa found it to be tolerable because she got to see Clarke light up and fret over her, adjusting her clothes and smiling at the results.

The fourth outfit though.

“This is what you like?” Lexa furrowed, tugging at the collar of the shirt, buttoned the whole way up to her chin.

“I have a thing for well put together types.”

“I kind of like it.”

The part that Lexa missed, while she looked at herself in the mirror and adjusted the roll of the sleeves, was the look Clarke gave her from her spot in a chair, happy to watch the spinning and enjoyment on Lexa’s face.

“You look good.”

“Yeah?” Lexa asked, oddly hopeful.

“You always look good.”

“Yeah?”

“Like you don’t know how cute you are,” Clarke scoffed.

“I don’t– um… well. Sometimes I– I mean I don’t usually think about it.”

With a final look at herself in the mirror, Lexa blushed and went to tug on her old clothes in the dressing room, making a note of what she might like to wear in the future.

“That was way more fun than even I anticipated,” Clarke held out her hand as Lexa walked out of the dressing room. “Next up, date number two.”

“We’re having multiple dates in one day?”

“Definitely.”

At eleven in the morning, the selection of movies wasn’t the best. Just beginning to show within the hour, Lexa agonized over which of her two options would be the best before finally deciding on a cartoon feature meant for much younger audiences. But it felt like a good choice because she liked the director and thought it was going to be absolutely beautiful.

“I don’t think this is a very balanced diet you’ve got here,” Clarke chided as she stole a twizzler from the pack in Lexa’s lap as they lazed on the mildly uncomfortable chairs.

“You have to have snacks for a movie.”

They settled fairly close, smiling and happy and alone, so very alone in the movie that they hoped no one else might show up. Lexa wasn’t sure what to do, and so she was grateful for the candy and the quiet. Clarke was just too cute and too nice, and she smelled good. Lexa always forgot how she smelled. And how warm she felt. And that little crackling feeling deep in her own chest when Clarke laughed and was close. Lexa forgot these things until they were back.

Clarke slid her arm around Lexa’s bicep and sighed with her cheek on her shoulder.

“You’re like an escape, you know?” Clarke whispered. “Thank you for ditching with me today. I promise I won’t make a habit of it.”

“Are you okay? I mean… with everything?”

“I am.”

“Are you sure?”

“Not really.”

Lexa couldn’t help but smile at the honesty. It was the charm Clarke had to her, that she just said things, she was in the moment. And each moment was occupied by this constant dialectical problem, where she really was happy, and she really was sad, and she really was all of it, blown back and forth by a breeze and whatever thoughts her brain decided to pick up.

“It’s all going to be okay,” Lexa offered, feeling as if she had to say, as if she had something that Clarke needed. Rarely were those words actually comforting, but she wanted to try, and she wasn’t sure how they came out of her mouth.

“I don’t know about that.”

“Yeah, but you still just kind of have to live anyway.”

“My dad isn’t getting any better. It was a long break,” Clarke confessed. “And now SATs and work and school. It’s just a lot.”

“Yeah. It’s always a lot.”

“I like this though,” she smiled, referencing them together.

“Not to be, you know, that person, but, um. What exactly are we?”

“You’re going to make me say it, aren’t you?”

“I don’t like to assume.”

Lexa felt her heart beating very quickly. Her palms felt sweaty and she wiped them against the thigh of her pants. She just wanted to look like she wasn’t dreading the answer. She didn’t want to think it was all in her head.

“For a genius, you’re kind of dumb.”

“Yeah,” Lexa nodded earnestly. “I get that a lot.”

“What do you think we should be?”

“Um, friends, friends that— kiss?” she attempted before really thinking about it. “I don’t know how to do this. I guess I just kind of want to be on your team, if that makes sense. Kiss and root for you.”

“Yeah, I’d like that a lot.”

“Okay, cool.”

Somehow Lexa let herself look at Clarke. It was a mistake because she was so pretty, and the lights were just starting to dim in time for the movie to start. It might have only been the second time Lexa leaned forward first, but she did, turning her body slightly. She really liked the kissing part.

Clarke tasted better than she smelled and she smelled so good. Gentle and warm, her lips moved against Lexa’s, and both forgot how to breathe. It didn’t matter that the noise from the previews started. It didn’t matter that they were the only ones, minus the usher who walked in to do a count and paused for a moment before hurrying back down the ramp.

“You and me, huh?” Clarke finally whispered when they separated.

Lexa just smiled and nodded, her cheeks painfully pink and her heart all but stopping completely.

“I promise, it’ll be well worth it,” Clarke swore, tugging Lexa toward the old truck that waited in the parking lot.

“I’m sure it will be, but I have to run very far today and ice cream isn’t the best pre-practice snack,” Lexa complained half-heartedly.

“You’re a pre practice snack.”

“Is this still flirting? Does this still happen?”

“Oh yeah,” Clarke nodded standing very close, pressing her girlfriend against her truck. “All of the time. If anything even more often.”

“Fantastic,” Lexa beamed.

The rain was just a drizzle, but the chill had somewhat worn off. While they should have been in sixth period, instead they were fresh out of a day bumming around the mall, locked away from the real world. Clarke leaned up and kissed Lexa’s smile because it was there and because she could.

“Will you just tell me how to do all of this?”

“All of what?” Clarke smiled.

“Dating.”

Sheepishly, Lexa gulped before looking at Clarke’s lips again and then back to her eyes. Both were incredibly difficult things to face.

“It’s not that hard. You’re doing great. But you’d do even better if you bought me my favorite ice cream.”

“Fine, but I’m only getting a little bit.”

“You say that now, until you try it.”

With another innocent kiss, Clarke pushed forward and freed herself before hopping into the cab of her truck.

Winter break had been a lot for her to handle. It’d been a lot of her mother, and it’d been a lot of her father. She worked just to get away from the misery and the nagging thought that it might have been the last holiday together as a family. Clarke decided she needed something good, and she needed to escape. Lexa was both of those things and more. She was real and honest, and she didn’t sugar coat anything. She said what she thought and she did what she wanted.

Most importantly, however, Lexa was normal, and she was the vacation Clarke allowed herself from real life, even if it was in tiny doses at a a time.

“I definitely liked making out in the movie,” Lexa decided as she put on her seatbelt.

“Me too.”

“Cool.”

“But I’m guessing I wouldn’t be too successful if it were a movie you wanted to watch.”

Again, Lexa blushed slightly, the tips of her ears growing red as she tucked stray hair behind them.

“Maybe,” she shrugged.

With just over an hour left in their freedom before Lexa was due back for practice and Clarke was due back for work, they drove toward ice cream and Clarke felt this ease about her. She wasn’t sure how, but she knew she made the right decision to put her chips down on Lexa Woods.

Clarke wasn’t sure what made her take a second look at the car across the lot from them as they pulled into the small mom and pop ice cream shop she’d grown up going to, nor was she certain how her brain put the pieces of information together.

“Okay, I might have lied,” Lexa decided. “I think I want rocky road.”

But Clarke didn’t move when they parked, but rather squinted at the familiar car and furrowed as her brain worked in overtime. Lexa said something about ice cream and running and how she was excited to tell her sister she ditched.

“Hey, you okay?”

Still, silence.

Lexa tried to follow Clarke’s glance and stared at the car.

“Clarke?”

She only half heard it. Instead, Clarke watched it happen, right there in the gas station parking lot across the street. Her mother got out of the car and Clarke hated that the windshield wiper did its job and put everything into clear viewing.

“What’s wrong?” Lexa tried again. “Who is that?”

Clarke just watched as the women she knew for her entire life got out of her car and hugged the man who got out of the passenger side. Up until that moment, it was just a dread that existed deep in her gut; it was unconfirmed. And then the women, the stranger, she smiled, happy and big and in the middle of a laugh, and she kissed the vaguely familiar man.

“That’s my mother,” Clarke muttered through grit teeth.

Unsure of what to do and the fact that this was very bad, Lexa looked between the mother and the daughter a few times before attempting to see some kind of resemblance.

“Oh.”

“I just wanted ice cream.”

Neither moved, neither breathed, it felt like. Instead, they watched the display of giddy love happening between Clarke’s mother and a man that was distinctly not her father. Clarke sat in the driver’s seat even more defeated than normal. Nothing made sense, because she was certain there was no way her life could get worse, and then the universe decided to put a little more shit on top.

Lexa shifted only to take Clarke’s hand in her own and hold it there while the clandestine lovers said their goodbyes.

“It’s going to be okay,” Lexa whispered.

“How?”

There wasn’t an answer to be had.

Chapter Text

In a way, Luna’s house was the most comfortable place outside of her own home that Lexa ever knew. One street over and two houses down, Lexa spent her first sleepover there. She spent every birthday and most of summer vacations there for a long time, her brother trailing along to play with Luna’s little brother. She knew where everything was, and the door was always open, so that she didn’t even bother knocking anymore.

When Aden got sick, Lexa spent more time at Luna’s than she did her own home. That stopped immediately when he was gone. She barely left her room, let alone her house, let alone her street.

But there was something comforting about it, as she knocked and twisted the door knob in the early evening. A late January slushy mix filled the sky and froze everything it came in contact with, and the warmth of the home greeted her, swallowing her up and welcoming her back yet again.

“Hey, kiddo, how’s it going?” Luna’s mother greeted her from the kitchen as she kicked off her shoes and made her way toward her best friend’s bedroom.

“Swamped, but doing okay. How are you?”

She paused at the island in the kitchen and accepted a cookie that cooled on a sheet while the mother worked on whatever was going to be dinner.

“I’ll be better when I finish this project and this dinner. Don’t ever grow up. Real life will absolutely drain your energy,” she said as she took a sip of wine. “Here to work on SAT prep?”

“Um, yeah,” Lexa nodded. “Test is in April.”

“Are you staying for dinner?”

“I’ll be heading home, actually. My dad is trying his hand at some Korean dish he had and wants to recreate.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to have something just in case?” she grinned.

“Thanks, but I’ll chance it,” Lexa shrugged, adjusting her bag and making her way down the hall.

The house was entirely prim and proper, neatly organized like a spread in a lifestyle magazine. Rows of pictures covered the hall, sandwiched between white trim. There was always a certain warmth to the house, but it never felt like home to Lexa. She liked her own house more than anything, but she owed her friend the luxury of home field advantage.

At the end of the hall, a white door was covered in angry stickers and bands, warning any wary passersby to keep going. Music thumped behind the sturdy barricade.

“I’m doing homework,” Luna yelled as soon as Lexa knocked, though it didn’t deter her as she pushed the door open to find her best friend scrolling through footage on her large monitor.

“That looks like the stuff we shot in November.”

“Someone’s got to put it all together.”

Lexa walked into the room anyway, despite the less than warm reception. She tossed her backpack on the floor and took a seat on the edge of the bed, even though her best friend didn’t look over at her or acknowledge her presence.

“You didn’t email me about the changes I made to the script,” Lexa began, playing with a hole on the jeans over her knee. “I thought we wanted to finalize by March.”

“I didn’t think there was a rush. You take forever to respond.”

“Are you still mad? I missed a couple of deadlines.”

“Every deadline,” Luna reminded her.

Hands moved quickly, knowledgeable at the computer. Lexa just watched as her friend avoided looking at her. It was hard to disappoint the person who gave her such drive. Her partner, in the truest sense of the word.

“I’ve had a lot going on.”

“So have I, but I keep up with this. This is what I want to do.”

“Yeah, sure looks like you’re passionate about it,” Lexa rolled her eyes, earning a glare.

Piercing brown, almost black eyes bore into her own, slightly squinted from the slight. The muscles of the jaw flexed and nostrils flared. The leg that was propped up in the chair got pulled even tighter, her body defending itself from a perceived threat.

“I’ve been working on this for hours, and you want to come in and tell me I’m doing a lackluster job?” Luna scoffed, leaning back in her chair.

“I didn’t come over to fight. I came over to apologize and figure out the adjustments I wanted to make.”

“You’re bad at it.”

“I know you’ve been mad at me.”

“No shit.”

“And I take the blame, but you’re not innocent in this,” Lexa decided, her words shaking slightly with the confrontation.

“Okay, Lexa. Thanks.”

“I mean it. I am devoted to this. You know I love this, but you throw it in my face how I’m dragging you down apparently,” she concluded, her hands moving slightly, her shoulders shrugging.

Lexa couldn’t look at the girl at the desk anymore, so she fixated on the corner of the desk as she zoned out and said hard words.

“You’d have to show up to drag me down,” Luna laughed sardonically.

“My life is kind of upside down at the moment.”

“Yeah yeah, Aiden, I know. I give you slack for that.”

“Slack?” Lexa furrowed. “For my brother dying? For my family falling apart? Wow. That is awfully generous of you.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Even then, you should understand that my family has different requirements of me than yours does of you.”

“I get to just do what I want, with no supervision, no drive?” Luna looked at the girl on her bed and shook her head in disbelief.

“I have to play a sport every season. I have to be in these clubs, and I just came out to my parents, which– I don’t have to explain it to you.”

“You used to though.”

Deadlocked, they looked at each other, the music quieter but still louder than the rest of the house, blocking out much of their own thoughts. Lexa didn’t want to fight, but she also knew her friend was incapable of strictly being passive aggressive. She knew she was walking into a den of pure aggression, and to a degree, that kept her away, coward that she thought herself to be because of it.

“You don’t seem interested to hear about Clarke,” Lexa shrugged, wringing her fingers again.

“Yeah, is it obvious?”

“Why do you hate her?”

“I don’t… I don’t hate her,” Luna shook her head, leaning back in her chair and finally turning it slightly so that she was facing her bed. “It was always supposed to be us though. You and me, applying to school, making movies.”

“You’re jealous?”

“No. I’m not jealous. I’m annoyed that my plans are being ruined.”

“That’s why I’m here to apologize and ask for a slight break from your eagerness.”

“Oh, so now I’m annoying and over eager?”

“That’s not what I said,” Lexa held up her hands in defeat. “But I need my best friend back, and I can’t give you every spare minute for this movie. I’m giving you all of them that I have, but I do have to sleep from time to time.”

“Sleep is for the weak,” Luna offered before cracking a smile.

She tilted her head slightly, letting it rest on her shoulder as she eyed Lexa, her face softening slightly, though not enough to put Lexa completely at ease. Luna was never one to soften. She was intense, and it was constant.

“I need you to like Clarke,” Lexa continued. “I– I– I think we’re… I think that there’s a chance we’re going to be– We are talking abo– I like her a lot, and I think she likes me.”

Completely pink in the cheeks, Lexa sighed with the admission as she looked down at her hands knotting themselves together, her fingers wrangling and wrapping themselves around each other to escape or personify her own feelings at that exact moment. Despite it all, despite the severity and venomous tongue her friend owned, Lexa knew Luna would listen, at least partially.

“I don’t mean to sound like this jealous asshole,” Luna sighed. “I just miss you.”

“I knew it.”

“Shut up.”

“I did though,” Lexa smiled, leaning back on her elbows on the bed, her legs stretching out in front of her over the side of it. “Stop getting annoyed at me for missing deadlines.”

“I won’t.”

“Try.”

“Whatever,” Luna shrugged. “I’ll try.”

“Good. Now do you want to get to work and stop being such a jealous baby?”

“You’re the worst,” Luna shook her head and tossed a notebook at her friend.

Lexa dodged the notebook, catching it before it hit her in the chest, gentle and wafted and not meaning to hurt. She earned a smile and though it was tense, the air felt slightly more hospitable and normal.

It was hard to say what normal was anymore, the past year being nothing more than an absolute game changer, in every sense of the word. But for an evening, Lexa could at least say she had her friend back.

“Can we adjust the future projections now?” Lexa grinned. “With time for being human factored in?”

“Since when are you human?”

“Tuesday, September second.”

“That’s awfully specific,” Luna muttered as she looked at the poster they'd’ developed to track applications for college.

“It’s when I met Clarke. And Monday, November fourtheenth. That’s when I came out to my dad. And Thursday, November twenty-fifth is when I came out to my mom.”

“And now you’re human?” she wondered. “I’ve known you liked girls since we were twelve.”

“Family is tough, but mine is coming back. It’s… it’s nice. Feels human.”

Luna looked away from her planning and her dates to look at the contemplative girl on her bed, the one she thought she knew better than anyone else. There was a different look to her, different than the one Luna suspected was because of the stupid cheerleader.

“I’m glad to hear it. Tell me how Sir Tim allowed you to cut down on extracurriculars.”

And just like that, they were back in some small way.

XXXXXXXXX

The music was too loud, but that didn’t matter. Clarke stared at her ceiling and didn’t even listen to the words that blared in her ears, deafening her from the rest of the quiet house. She didn’t move at all, but laid there, still as could be, thinking. Hands linked over her stomach, she felt herself breathing intermittently.

The room wasn’t messy, but it certainly wasn’t clean. Clothes were lumped in a corner and scattered elsewhere on the floor. Her backpack and stack of books flopped, half on the floor, half on her bed from her attempt at homework. Sketches covered a desk with various drawing equipment, paint dripped onto the old rugs she used to keep her mother at bay from complaining. It was exceptionally normal.

Clarke tilted her head and looked toward the window, and at the orange trees and street outside, flooded with rain and snow in the miserable winter night. Pictures from various moments in her timeline littered the wall next to her bed. Long forgotten smiles and friends beamed, dressed up in little cheerleader costumes, dressed in camp outfits, dressed in stupid costumes for various school events. Her wallpaper was memories that seemed incredibly insignificant at the moment.

She looked back toward her ceiling for a moment before looking toward her door, a monstrous thing with clothes and coats and bags hung on it, giving it a hump. There was so much stuff, so many things, everywhere. Her room was full and busy and she looked back at her ceiling and felt very far removed from everything.

A year and a half and she could leave it all behind, she thought to herself as she closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

Hey, want to come to my game on Friday? A text beeped, interrupting her song.

With a big stretch, Clarke wiggled up on her bed and grabbed her phone from where it was hidden beneath a stack of notebooks and binders. She smiled at seeing Lexa’s text despite herself, despite her mood.

I know it’s super boring, but I thought, maybe, we could, like after, maybe grab food and hang out?

The soccer player, the class secretary, the debate team captain, the SAT tutor, the valedictorian and all around heart throb to just Clarke, was an adorable mess, even in text, and Clarke loved it because rarely did something so good and pure exist in the world. Rarely did someone speak so honestly about what their problems were. Rarely did anyone acknowledge that life was shit, but kept going anyway.

I’m working this Friday. After can we head to Tall John’s party? His parents are out of town and it’s McKenzie’s birthday.

Clarke badly needed a drink and a night to just… to forget. She couldn’t think of anything better than hanging out with Lexa.

Um, yeah. Sure. That sounds fun. I’m um, not too good at parties.

I’ll teach you. We don’t have to stay long.

Sounds good. Not too late? Sorry to sound like a nerd, but my parents want to do a bike ride on Saturday morning. Their next attempt at family bonding.

Promise.

You want to come?

Do I want to get up early on Saturday and go on an outrageously long bike ride with three of the fittest people I’ve ever seen in one gene pool?

Yeah.

Clarke chuckled to herself and shook her head.

Maybe I can come over after work Saturday and we can do homework and movies?

This weekend just got to be spectacular. That sounds amazing.

How was your night?

Despite the messages, Clarke sat up in her bed and looked around at her room. She redid the messy bun in her hair, tightening it as she prepared for battle. The music continued to thump in her brain, the words disappearing, not relevant anyway.

Good. Luna and I edited and worked on the script for our feature for film school applications. She agreed to back off, as much as she can.

I told you, just talking to her will help. She’s very focused.

That’s a nice way to put it. But she keeps me going.

Clarke smiled at her phone before tossing it onto her desk and wondering where to start. She settled on trash, tugging everything off of her wall and throwing it into a pile in the middle of her room. And only when the walls were bare did she begin to gather everything and shove it in trash bags.

It went that way until her room was almost empty and orderly. It looked like she moved out. Any clothes that didn’t fit in the closet or dresser were filtered through and put in a bag for donation. Anything that tied her there, to that town, to her family, it was tossed. Clarke found herself scrubbing away a layer of film that grew on her skin, scrubbing away everything over the past year or so. She wanted to be clean. She wanted to be new.

Lexa, I don’t know what to say to my mom.

With nothing left to clean, with the room empty and almost cell-like, Clarke sat on her bed and cradled her phone, a few hours removed from her last conversation with another living being. It was nearly three in the morning, and she knew Lexa would be asleep, but she had to admit it to someone.

Once more, she flopped back on the bed and looked at the ceiling, her hands crossed over her ribs as she felt each breath.

“Hello?” she whispered as her phone began to vibrate more than a text.

“Hey,” Lexa yawned before clearing her throat. Her voice was scratchy and full of sleep, but that didn’t stop her.

“I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I’m a light sleeper.”

“Then I’m extra sorry.”

“I’m not.”

They were quiet. Clarke tried to listen to any noise on the other end, but all she got was the slight adjustment of sheets and another stifled yawn.

“It has to get easier,” Lexa whispered.

“Did it for you?”

“Kind of, yeah,” she decided. “It’s getting better every day. Sometimes I lapse and get sad and feel lost, but for the most part, It feels better than yesterday.”

“Mine’s kind of fresh.”

“Yeah.”

“Do I tell my dad?” Clarke wondered.

“That’s up to you, but I don’t think you can decide at three in the morning.”

“I guess not.”

“Good. Then don’t worry for a few more hours, and try to sleep.”

“Easier said than done.”

“Maybe. Want me to hang out until you do though?” Lexa asked, half asleep herself.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” Clarke smiled to herself and blushed at the admission.

“I can do that.”

“Thank you.”

“No worries. I was up anyway.”

Clarke smiled at the obvious lie and closed her eyes despite the light on, despite her clothes, despite it all, and she just enjoyed the quiet and the night and the girl on the other line.

XXXXXXXXX

There weren’t any nerves to it, but still Lexa was anxious as she waited by the locker of the girl that kept her up until four in the morning. There weren’t many nerves because she was still too groggy to have real nerves, but she had them beneath it all.

She adjusted her backpack and leaned against the lockers in the busy hallway before the first bell rang. She looked at her shoes and nudged her toes against the polished floor.

When she looked up, she held her breath, her lips too agape to fully smile though they very much wanted to do just that. As if she’d slept for a full ten hours, Clarke Griffin made her way through the hall, hair billowing and angelic, completely stuck in slow-motion. Lexa gulped and adjusted the strap of her heavy bag again before fiddling with the clasp.

“Good morning, tiger,” Clarke smiled. “Waiting for little old me?”

“I brought you breakfast,” Lexa offered, pulling the banana and protein bar from her sweatshirt.

“You are very sweet. Have I told you that lately?”

It burned the whole way up to the tips of her ears, but Lexa looked away from Clarke’s smile and back at the toes of her shoes.

“Yeah last night.”

“Good,” Clarke decided. “I wanted to thank you for… just staying up with me.”

“Anytime.”

She closed her locker after grabbing the right books and nodded to herself before pausing and leaning near Lexa. Clarke played with the strap of Lexa’s book-bag now, her fingers moving anxiously as they hovered closer.

“I’m becoming quite a pain in your life, huh?”

“Nope.”

“First your friend starts to hate you, now I take all your time up. I’m a menace.”

“I told you that I’d help. Do whatever. I don’t know. Sometimes we just need someone else to bring them a banana.”

“Yeah, I think we do,” Clarke smiled.

Pressing forward, Clarke gripped the backpack strap firmly and slowly leaned toward Lexa’s lips before gently kissing her. She held it for a moment until she smiled enough to ruin it.

Lexa cleared her throat and blushed a little more.

“Want to come over after school? I’m going to paint my room.”

“Yeah. Definitely.”

Clarke smiled and intertwined their fingers.

XXXXXXXXXX

“So, this is your… room?” Lexa furrowed as she looked around the near empty shell of a bedroom.

The bed was covered in a drop cloth, while the walls were completely empty and not a thing was where it should have been, the desk and the dresser and a chair and a shelf pushed towards the center in preparation of the work to happen.

Clarke nodded and stirred the pain in the can.

“I can’t imagine why you’d want to change the color of the room.”

“I picked it when I was eight.”

“What a difference eight years will make,” Clarke smiled and poured into the tin. “I was a huge fan of purple.”

“I couldn’t tell,” Lexa grimaced slightly at the childish color.

“Which is why I’ve decided that my new life will be a much more mature color. The new year is a year of power moves only.”

“What’s that?”

Clarke stood and grabbed a roller and wet it. Hand on her hip, she held it up valiantly, prepared for everything and at least pretending to know what she was doing.

“It means, I’m only moving forward and doing what I want. Clean slate. No more childish stuff.” She paused for a moment, thoughtful and strong. “I’m going to change the fucking world.”

It was with a line like that, that Lexa decided she’d follow Clarke to the ends of the Earth.

“Power moves only,” Lexa agreed and picked up a roller.

For an hour they worked and got the first coat of paint on the walls, edged neatly and expertly by the debate team captain. Music played softly from Clarke’s phone on the window ledge, and the fan rocked and hummed quietly, attempting to usher in another coat before bed.

It got dark quickly in the winter, but that didn’t stop them. Lexa had a backpack full of homework and found herself slightly tired from being up all night, but that didn’t stop her. She had music and Clarke all to herself and it felt good and easy. She wasn’t going to stop.

“Are the glow-in-the-dark stars part of this new you?” Lexa asked as she laid on the floor next to a paint-splattered Clarke. Her own hands were caked in streaks and her shift had an accidental streak across it.

“I can’t change completely. They have to stay.”

Shoulder to shoulder, they looked at the poorly constructed constellation above them as the smell of paint wafted through the room.

“This has something to do with what we saw the other day, doesn’t it?” Lexa whispered.

“No.”

“It’s okay if it does.”

“It doesn’t.”

“I’d be… I don’t even know. I’d be devastated,” Lexa continued, turning her head to see Clarke’s profile.

The girl beside her worked hard to remain stoic, but cracked slightly, letting out a big breath and closing her eyes. Lexa froze as Clarke’s chest inflated again. A streak of grey paint ran down her jaw and neck.

“I don’t know what to do,” Clarke confessed. “I feel so…. So angry.”

“And hurt?”

“Maybe,” she sighed, her breath shaky. “Maybe deep beneath the anger.”

Lexa watched it all happen. She couldn’t look away. And then a tear made its way down the side of her face and into her hair, though Clarke tried to wipe it away quickly. Another came a second later, and Clarke sniffled and took a deep breath to steady herself.

There hadn’t been many times Lexa knew what to do when someone else was crying. There really hadn’t been any that she could think of. Nothing ever seemed right. But that didn’t stop her from rolling over and propping herself up on an elbow. Gentle as she could, Lexa wiped away one side, and then the other.

“You are far tougher than you realize,” Lexa promised. “You’ll know what to do eventually.”

Clarke finally met Lexa’s eyes. They were even more blue when hidden behind the glass of stifled tears. Pure blue. Blue blue.

“I’m sick of being angry,” Clarke whispered.

Lexa let her hand migrate to the corner of Clarke’s jaw where she rubbed softly, hoping it would help in some way.

“Me too,” she agreed. “Let’s stop being angry right now.”

“I don’t think it works like that.”

“Why not?” Lexa smiled, earning one from Clarke as well, no matter how small it was.

Somehow, Lexa became aware of her body and how it was pressed against the entirety of Clarke’s. Her leg as slid over Clarke’s hip, her stomach touched her elbow, her arm covered her chest. Clarke must have known too, because she smiled and looked at Lexa’s lips.

Tentatively, asking permission, Lexa leaned forward and stopped, stuttering her way forward until she held her breath and felt Clarke kiss her Somehow a hand slid to the back of her neck and she ran out of air, but still kept kissing the girl on the floor with the paint all over.

There was a tiny hum, though Lexa wasn’t sure who made it. She thought it was herself for a moment, but then infinitely liked the idea that it was Clarke even more. Of their own accord, her hips pressed forward while her hand slid to Clarke’s neck, and then to her chest quickly before settling on her ribs.

She made out with Clarke and forgot everything else, and as self control waned, her hand slid higher until she spread her palm and felt Clarke’s chest. Hesitantly, she paused there until Clarke’s back arched and filled up her hand on its own. Lexa did not mind, nor did she ever want to put anything else in her hand. It only spurred her to kiss Clarke deeper, her body doing things before her brain could overthink it.

Clarke pulled Lexa slightly until she was half atop her, thigh slipping between her own. She dug her hands into Lexa’s shoulders. For too long they made out on the floor with their bodies doing things they weren’t quite sure of, but desperately needed. Clarke groaned only when Lexa pulled away, lips swollen and eyes clearly wide.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t… I shouldn’t have.”

“Shut up,” Clarke shook her head.

Lexa looked down at her hand still on Clarke’s chest, still rooted firmly there. She should have moved it, but couldn’t.

“Anything to distract you, I guess.”

“Consider me distracted,” she promised.

Clarke let her head drop back onto the floor before moving her hips, adjusting slightly and tugging Lexa to lay atop her. She kissed her cheek, kissed her forehead and settled there on her floor, cheeks slightly pink and lip slightly bitten from Lexa’s teeth.

Neither said anything. Neither had to.

Chapter Text

The house on Smallman Street was a raucous affair.

The lights spilled out from the windows, casting long yellow streaks through the freshly free from snow lawn while the music played and boomed, thumping quietly along to the laughter of the people inside. Cars filled the street in all directions, pulled up onto the edges of lawns and blocking each other in. The night air was crisp and the party was needed after the winter that seemed to provide perpetual clouds and precipitation.

It was everything Lexa imagined and expected, and yet when confronted with the grandeur and majesty of a high school party, she was slightly overwhelmed. The theory of it was gone, and the practice seemed like a lot. But still, she closed the door to Clarke’s truck and sighed in the almost warm air of the spring evening and shivered.

From the edge of the lawn, Lexa peered up at the house and driveway that filled with classmates. She adjusted her glasses and took a deep breath to prepare for the evening. She wasn’t alone, she had to remind herself. And it could be fun. It sounded like it was a lot of fun, and that was something to start with.

“Did I mention you look exceptionally cute tonight?” Clarke asked as she rounded the truck, shoved her keys in her pocket and smiled at Lexa.

It was a dangerous smile, Lexa realized, and one that she was beginning to become intimately familiar with. Something about the single dimple and the ghost of the other, the stretch of red lips and the spark of something in her eyes that made Clarke absolutely lethal. And that was before words were put into the equation.

Dumbly, Lexa adjusted her glasses and looked down at her jeans and sneakers and old sweater over an old shirt from a trip to some national park. It wasn’t anything special or even that remarkable. She hadn’t put any effort into it other than to keep her mother from complaining that she was wearing sweatpants.

“I don’t know about that.”

“I like this sweater,” Clarke explained, fiddling with the stitch of the knitted dark green. “It makes your eyes seem like they’re really green.”

“Oh?”

“You look cozy and I like that.”

Without anymore argument, she stretched and kissed Lexa quickly, chastly, as if sealing the words that wanted to come out forever. Satisfied with her work, she grinned and held Lexa’ hand before tugging her toward the house and music and people and lives.

“I can be the sweet one sometimes,” Clarke explained. “Wouldn’t want you to think I don’t think you’re cute.”

“I don’t get it, but I’m not going to fight it,” Lexa promised. “Even if you need to get your eyes checked.”

As they walked up the steps, Clarke laughed and Lexa felt herself breathe a sigh of relief for earning something like that.

“We’re not going to be that couple that argues about how cute the other is. That’s absolutely disgusting.”

“Ew, yes.”

“Cool, then just accept it.”

“I already agreed, despite mild objection.”

“That’s not accepting.”

“It’s accepting and dissenting. That’s allowed in a democracy.”

“This is, at best, a constitutional monarchy,” Clarke explained.

“Shut up,” Lexa nudged her and laughed.

From inside the party, a few eyes turned to see the couple approaching– the same couple that they were still very unsure was an actual couple. They certainly looked like one, with their hands locked and arms swinging between their two bodies. Their cheeks were blushing and if anyone were to pay attention to them, they might notice the slight way they rotated around each other, and the slight adoration witnessed through glances and smiles and body language.

The house was absolutely stuffed with people and noise and commotion, but the pair pushed in, all smiles and greeting their friends as they trudged onwards to find a place to anchor themselves.

Tugged forward, Lexa held Clarke’s hand as they wove through the kitchen and deeper into the house and toward the music. She didn’t really pay attention to people she passed, but rather that she was very close to Clarke and holding her hand and that was enough for her amidst it all.

Somehow she got a cup of nearly warm beer and accepted it without a fuss and sipped it before deciding that she would be nursing it for the rest of the night.

“You made it!” a voice erupted as Clarke finally stopped directing them through the bodies.

The hand disappeared and Lexa went from looking at her cup to her empty hand to Clarke’s neck being engulfed by another set of arms, and she was very confused her feet weren’t moving anymore. It felt like she’d been making the pilgrimage through the party for years with no real destination in mind.

“Finally. I’ve been waiting for my partner to get here so we can run the beer pong table,” another voice entered the forray.

Lexa stood back slightly and let Clarke greet her friends, recognizing and barely knowing a few of them. She felt like she knew them because of Clarke, and the secondhand knowledge seemed a little weird at the moment.

“Sorry I’m late,” Clarke explained, tucking hair behind her ear as she leaned back and found Lexa’s side. “I was running late, and then Lexa’s soccer game went later than expected.”

The eyes of the group all realized that aforementioned Lexa was standing there. She took a sip of her beer and smiled slightly.

“How’d it go?” Wells broke the quiet, and Lexa was grateful she didn’t have to keep sipping her drink.

Clarke leaned against her side, and Lexa was grateful for it.

“Really well. We won again. I think it’s two in a row for us,” she explained and nodded slightly before someone grabbed her.

“We’re twelve and two thanks to this one’s goal tonight!”

Lexa grinned as an arm wrang her neck and she jostled with the motion, grateful to have someone else she knew.

“All because of your assist,” Lexa promised her teammate.

“I was spectacular,” Raven agreed. “Thanks for finally getting her to come out, Clarke. We’ve been asking Woods to come forever.”

“And here I thought she was just my nerd hiding out,” Clarke teased, earning a furious blush as she slipped an arm around Lexa’s middle.

“I always assumed she was just too busy.”

“I am,” Lexa disagreed, slipping her arm over Clarke’s shoulder. “I just finally had some time open up.”

“Convenient,” Raven nodded.

It was probably much worse in her head, but Lexa realized she was almost having a good time throughout the night. She’d dreaded those events as nothing more than an opportunity to embarrass herself, or feel even more disconnected than ever from her classmates. Maybe it was time and distance and fate, but it clicked, and she felt like she wasn’t lugging around her brother’s baggage for the evening, like she could enjoy herself, even if he wasn’t there. Guilt was limited, finally.

Three drinks in, and Clarke got cozier, and Lexa didn’t mind at all. Warmth spread through her chest as she experienced loopy Clarke.

Tucked in a spare living room that led out to the backyard, the group ebbed and flowed, adding and subtracting and shifting like a tide pool. Clarke sat on the floor, her back against the couch with Lexa beside her. She pressed closer when reaching for something, and she let her hand linger on Lexa’s thigh, tucking it there absently while her thumb traced the hem.

For a moment, at some point in the middle of that happening, Lexa gulped and looked at Clarke, slowly, so as not to draw attention to herself. She looked down at the hand and tried to pay attention desperately to the people talking.

“Settle something for us, Woods,” Bellamy half-shouted though the music was lower than ever. The alcohol coursed through the party, seeping out the edges.

“Yes?”

“What did you get suspended for on that eighth grade field trip?”

“You got suspended?” Clarke scoffed, her surprise evident.

“It’s not that crazy of a notion.”

“It’s… it’s actually unbelievable.”

“It’s not.”

“It really is,” a few other people chimed in and Lexa sighed and shook her head.

“I bet it was because you were doing extra credit on a school trip.”

“Or taking too many notes.”

“Correcting the tour guide,” Raven offered with a laugh as everyone joined.

Lexa couldn’t help but smile when she thought about it, something she hadn’t done in too long. She felt Clarke squeeze her thigh and she took a deep breath before starting.

“It wasn’t anything exciting. Aden and I wanted to go to this movie and then the comic shop a few blocks away from the museum, so we snuck out and thought we’d just join at the bus,” she began. “But everyone was gone by the time we made our way back.”

“You ditched a field trip?” Bellamy balked.

“I thought you’d never ditched before?” Clarke furrowed, faux betrayal on her face.

“I didn’t count it as ditching. I’d been to that museum every year for how many school trips?”

“Probably every year of school,” Wells agreed. “I feel like I could recite the entire tour by heart.”

“Exactly. So it wasn’t ditching persay.”

“But Aden didn’t get suspended,” Raven reminded the group.

“I was the distraction while he slipped back in with the group at school. We grabbed a cab, but didn’t have enough money to cover it.”

“You almost got away with it.”

“Yeah. Almost.”

There was a pause as Lexa swirled the remnants of her drink and took the last bit in a big gulp. The group thought about it for a little while, the party slowly dying around them.

“Do you remember when Aden got stuck up in that tree over by the lake?” Gus asked. “They had to use the ladder on the fire truck to get him down.”

“You’re the one who dared him, if I remember correctly,” Raven sassed as everyone laughed at the memory of when they were just scuffed-knee kids in too much trouble.

“He was really good at climbing,” Bellamy promised, dissecting the moment.

Lexa felt a pain in her heart– not a stabbing, not a tearing, not a purposefully painful type of ache, but rather a soreness, as if her heart has worked out harder than ever before, and the lactic acid built up to a degree that made movement feel like the muscles were stretched to their limit. It was a healthy ache, one that still felt uncomfortable but was by no means unbearable, and if she wasn’t mistaken, perhaps even required.

“Hey,” Clarke whispered. “You okay?”

Without even really thinking, Lexa nodded and made herself smile. It was forced only for a split second before she met Clarke’s eyes and meant it.

“Very okay,” she promised.

Clarke wasn’t sure she believed her, but before Lexa could protest again, she shifted and kissed her cheek, burning and pink and all.

“Thanks for coming, by the way.”

“Thanks for inviting me.”

“Will you drive me home later?”

“I will,” Lexa smiled, never breaking their glance an leaning forward, goofy smile on her face to match the slightly inebriated one that stared back.

“Will you kiss me?”

“Right now?”

“Eventually.”

“Definitely.”

“But also right now.”

Lexa couldn’t help but laugh and she agreed, the tips of ears burning as she leaned forward for a chaste kiss. She pulled back and had Clarke’s eyes on her and she had arms around her neck and the slight weight of the girl of her dreams. And when she closed them again, Clarke leaned forward and kissed her again.

“Will you go dance outside with me?”

“Oh, well… I don’t– I’m not much of a dancer.”

“Perfect. Me neither.”

Uncoordinated and messy, Clarke pushed herself up before Lexa could argue, tugging her along.

“Where are you two going?”

“I want to move. I want to dance. I want air,” Clarke explained. “And Lexa is nice enough to do whatever I ask.”

“Dumb enough, you mean,” the soccer player supplied.

“That too,” she grinned and pulled through the crowd, leaving a gaggle of friends behind who only watched after them for a moment before hopelessly gossiping about the pair.

XXXXXXXXXX

Toward the end of the night, the cars disappeared slowly. People made their ways back to their respective homes or friend’s houses or next port in the never-ending sagae of drinking and general teenage debauchery. Lexa wasn’t sure how, but she knew a lot of people at the party, and they were all happy to see her, bemoaning the fact that they hadn’t see her out before.

“I thought you wanted to dance,” Lexa furrowed as Clarke opened the truck and handed her the keys.

“I’m not that drunk, but I know how you get,” she smiled. “I just wanted to get out, and sometimes you have to play your part in order to escape. A french exit sounds nice, doesn’t it?”

“If you want to stay, we can,” Lexa shook her head, still looking at the keys as Clarke made her way to the passenger seat. She leaned over the hood and rolled her eyes.

“Let’s get out of here.”

“Sounds good.”

As was becoming normal, Clarke played with the radio, carefully finding something , but failing as they made their way down the block and away from the party. When she scrolled through the dial twice, she pushed in an old cassette and let the song start that made her smile. Lexa felt a hand on her thigh as she drove and gulped before adjusting slightly.

“Where am I going?”

“Anywhere. Your curfew isn’t for another hour, right?”

“Just about.”

“Head over towards the mall. I’m hungry.”

“You’re kind of bossy.”

“I thought you liked that.”

“I must.”

Clarke smiled as she watched lights zoom by. She hummed along to the music and snuck glances at the girl driving her truck. Lexa had a knack for concentrating. She focused intently and let little else into her mind, and it was endearing, for the most part. But at the moment, slightly intoxicated and exceptionally turned on, Clarke was less amused by Lexa’s inability to give her attention and drive a car.

“What are you looking at?” Lexa laughed nervously as she caught Clarke’s eye.

“You. I like looking at you.”

CLarke looked away with the confession. She felt her cheeks blush and she sighed, her head leaning against the window.

XXXXXXXXX

“Have you decided anything?” Lexa asked, snagging a fry from the container between them as they sat in the old truck in the middle of the empty mall parking lot.

This felt a little more normal than the party, though she remembered not being particularly overwhelmed, which was a surprise. For an instant, Lexa believed that maybe her brain wasn’t as broken as she accused it of being sometimes. She sipped her soda and waited as the girl beside her finished chewing.

Slightly intoxicated, but coming down from it, Clarke was messy hair and handsy. Neither facts were a problem for Lexa.

“I haven’t yet, but I’ve debated it, and I think I might just tell her I know, and to stop. My dad will never have to know.”

“That’s true,” she agreed.

“The doctors are usually pretty optimistic for him, but his symptoms are becoming more often, and I just don’t know how long I have him for.”

“And you don’t want to ruin the last bit of time.”

“Yeah.”

The pair relaxed and finished up the make shift dinner a fast food drive thru provided. Lexa spent a good portion of it watching Clarke adjust and her legs cross and change on the dashboard. Between sips of her drink, she tried to think of something to say, but failed to come up with anything that would have made a difference.

“I appreciate you asking,” Clarke finally sighed, balling up a wrapper and tossing it on the floor of her truck. “But please, can we not let my mother ruin anything else?”

Clarke let her head lull back until she looked over at Lexa and gave her a smile that showed how tired a lot of her own thoughts made her. She needed to be real and present. She needed anchored.

“Whatever you need.”

“I’ll take any distractions you can give me.”

As she spoke, Clarke shifted closer so that she was against Lexa’s side in almost no time, an arm around her shoulder, the flat seat of the truck a perfect place to casually lean against another person. Outside, the parking lot was a desolate ocean of hatched asphalt and lights that were beacons against all else. Inside, the tape played and Lexa smelled Clarke’s hair, finding the familiar shampoo warm and lingering on the evening.

“Well, there is a dance coming up…” Lexa trailed off and debated what word should come next, and she was left with a complete blank. There had to be another word that went there. All wors could be followed by other words, it was the basis of human speech. And yet all words, tens of thousands of them, they all felt wrong.

Clarke turned slightly, which just made Lexa more nervous. But instead of helping, she just held her arm and pulled it tighter around her shoulders.

“Interesting.”

“The Sadie Hawkins dance,” Lexa explained.

“Rings a bell.”

“It’s when the girl asks the guy to the dance. It’s nothing too crazy. They’re doing a decade theme. The Sock Hop 60’s.”

“Wow, you sure do know a lot about the dance for someone who doesn’t like to dance.”

“I hear things,” she shrugged. “I just don’t know how it works if we’re both girls.”

“Are you trying to ask me to the dance, Lexa?” Clarke teased. “I never would have imagined you wanting to go.”

“Seems like a good distraction.”

“Purely selfless then?”

“Yeah,” her cheeks burned with the fib.

The cheerleader beside her let her worry in the quiet before shifting slightly. Clarke remained very close to Lexa, though she faced her now. She looked at her lips and back at her eyes and she really looked at the track-running, school government secretary, part time tutor, part time mechanic, full time babe. She ran her fingertips along her jaw and saw the nerves that existed on her cheeks.

“Do you want to take me to the dance?”

Lexa nodded and smiled.

“Good. Because I just assumed you were my date.”

Without warning, Lexa pushed forward slightly and kissed the girl that was almost in her lap. She kissed Clarke eagerly, happily, a distraction and a very honest panacea for all that ailed the wonderful girl in the front seat. Relatively new to the kissing and making out thing, Lexa was eager to spend many hours doing it more often. She felt arms wrap around her neck as Clarke pushed against her. Her whole body melted in response.

“Don’t I have to get you home before curfew?”

“I’ve never been out past it,” Lexa smiled, kissing Clarke again and earning a slight chuckle despite her lips.

“A few minutes late won’t hurt, I guess.”

Lexa made it approximately thirty more seconds into the first bits of what had the markings of her best make out yet, and the guilt snuck into her head and she pulled away, lips swollen and mind conflicted.

“I should get home before curfew.”

Clarke let out a laugh and shook her head before hugging Lexa’s shoulders for just a moment before scooting to her own side.

“Thank you for everything.”

“Thanks for making out with me.”

Chapter Text

There weren’t any nerves because of the dance. Lexa had been forced to go to dances by her sister in an effort to make her feel included, and then with friends from various teams who all seemed to have similar goals. It was just a dance that would last a few hours and then she’d be done and that was okay. After going to about a dozen already in her life, Lexa couldn’t spend too much time allowing herself to be nervous.

The nerves came because Clarke promptly informed her that her parents were at a conference for the week, and she should come over after the dance. That was a very good invitation. It was probably the best invitation and Lexa knew what it meant. And she wasn’t sure about it. But she was also afraid of lying to her parents. Because she couldn’t rightly tell them she was going over her girlfriend’s house for the night, no matter how supportive they were with their new “gay daughter” parenting books and Pride-colored paraphernalia.

The nerves came because she had a girlfriend and was going to a dance with her. They came because she was somehow dating the head cheerleader, and she fell into meeting her and what if it went badly? What if she went over to Clarke’s place and forgot how to kiss? Or breathe? Or stand? Because all seemed likely with the fact that her brain short circuited when she saw her girlfriend in her cheerleading uniform. Surely seeing her in anything less than fully-clothed would lead to disaster.

Lexa took a deep breath and stared at herself in her mirror before adjusting her hair and then her sleeve. She was afraid to call her sister. She didn’t want anyone to know. She wasn’t even sure she wanted to know, just that she really wanted to go over Clarke’s place and not go to the dance at all. But she didn’t know how to go to Clarke’s, in the euphemistic sense. Despite all of the research that just seemed to cloud her brain even further, the idea of sex was intriguing and scary, but not altogether frightening.

“Well, golly, aren’t you a real dreamboat?”

Despite herself and the worry that crept in just a few seconds before, Lexa blushed and smiled before pushing herself away from the mirror, grabbing her leather jacket a second later. The conversation she had with her reflection shed no light on her predicament.

“Are you sure this isn’t stupid?”

“I’m very sure,” Clarke promised, leaning against the doorway. “You are a very dreamy date and I’m so glad you offered to take little ol’ me to the Hop.”

“Are you going to talk like this all night?” Lexa cocked her head as she slid on her jacket, careful to not mess up the slicked hair and pristine white shirt.

“Sure am, Daddy-o.”

“You look adorable, by the way,” she offered when she reached the door and her date didn’t move, just smiled.

Hair pulled back in a tight ponytail, Clarke’s dress was out of an episode of Happy Days or something, poodle skirt in place and all. She looked like she was made to be an advertisement for apple pie and the American way circa 1957. It was in that moment that Lexa realized she was dating someone who liked going full into whatever they were going to do. This wasn’t a put together costume— this was precise.

“Thanks. I wanted to make sure a cool cat like you had a primo date.”

“This is a lot more comfortable than prom will be.”

“If I get to go. No one has asked me yet,” Clarke teased.

“I’m sure someone will,” Lexa promised, kissing her finally as she reached the door, eager to have that feeling again.

“That’s true. I’m a cheerleader. I get asked to prom. And I think I’ll say yes to whoever asks me first.”

“Good plan.”

“Are you going to come over after?”

Lexa gulped slightly before nodding, afraid to say to many words. That was tough.

“No funny business, just wanted to hang out with you alone. It’s been a while since we’ve hung out.”

“True,” she nodded, smiling as Clarke adjusted the lapels of her jacket. “But maybe a little funny business.”

There it was. Clarke smiled a little and then it grew into a lot, spreading wide on her cheeks as she kissed the corner of Lexa’s mouth. It burnt the entirety of her girlfriend’s neck and tips of her ears. Lexa felt like she could breathe because Clarke dispelled her fear with such an off-handed joke, that she tried to remember to be bummed about not having sex. She’d put so much effort into figuring out how she felt about it, it seemed like a waste.

“Hurry up, Lex!” her mother called from down the stairs. “I can’t wait to see how cute you two are!”

“Thanks for being around,” Clarke offered before letting go of her girlfriend. “I think this is the happiest I’ve been in a long time.”

“Thanks for letting me touch your boobs. That’s been one of the best things to ever happen to me in my entire life.”

“Now that’s a compliment.”

“Yours too,” Lexa smiled before putting her arm over Clarke’s shoulders as they made their way down the stairs to the waiting parents.

“Oh my! Lexa you look so cute! And Clarke, you are a dream!”

“I’m not cute, I’m tough,” Lexa explained.

“I think that’s one of those things that if you say it, it’s not true,” her father offered. “But that jacket does look very cool on you. Grandpa would be absolutely thrilled to have a gay granddaughter greaser.”

His wife hit his chest as Lexa shook her head and laughed.

“Alright. I think we’re ready to leave.”

“Wait wait,” her mother bustled about. “I need some pictures.”

Lexa groaned despite her girlfriend’s arms wrapping around her waist, always ready for a picture. Somehow, Lexa had pictures of her and Clarke on her phone. She saw pictures of herself on her date’s Instagram. She had a strip of pictures from the photobooth in the winter festival downtown taped beside one of her monitors in her room. Clarke documented and Lexa stopped fighting it. She was someone who wanted to remember now.

“Mom, we don’t—”

“Just smile. Clarke is humoring me.”

“Clarke humors everyone.”

“And that’s why she’s my favorite partner you’ve brought home,” she muttered as she snapped a few pictures. “There. That wasn’t so bad. Was it?”

“It’s part of the routine,” Clarke reminded her girlfriend. “You just have to let it happen.”

“I don’t have to like it.”

“Lexa never did like pictures,” her father explained, looking at a few he took himself on his own phone. “She covered her face in her picture with Santa when she was four.”

“I’d love to see that,” the cheerleader decided.

“Nope, it’s gone. Burned. Lost to time and space,” Lexa shook her head, staunchly refusing. She ushered her date toward the door. “Have a good night. Thanks for the jacket. I’ll see you both tomorrow night.”

“Be home for dinner please!”

“I will.”

“Make sure you tell Luna we said—”

The front door shut and Lexa paused before letting out the deep breath she’d been holding in her chest. She still had her arm over Clarke’s shoulder, and she felt the slight chill in the March air, but she didn’t move.

“That was embarrassing. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t. Your parents are truly some of the coolest people I’ve ever met.”

“They’re not.”

“I know you don’t believe that,” Clarke chastised as she opened the passenger side door for her date. “You love them and the attention they give you and the love and support.”

“Sometimes it’s overwhelming.”

“Better than underwhelming.”

“They really like you,” Lexa offered as she put on her seatbelt and the truck roared to life.

“I bet that’d stop if they knew you were coming over tonight,” she grinned, almost proud to be doing something she shouldn’t. “Or that you propositioned me for a little funny business.”

All of her blood rushed to her cheek and Lexa felt her brain go through a billion options for what to say next. The real flaw of her innate design being that she then tried to say all billion options at one time and it just left her gaping.

“But I’d win them back by promising to have nothing but pure intentions with their baby girl.”

“That’d save me from another safe sex talk.”

Clarke chuckled as she flipped from reverse back to drive and pointed them toward the school gym.

“Nothing but necking and malts for Lexa Woods. I have a reputation to uphold,” Clarke reminded her as she pressed play so that a feisty little bop started playing on the radio, perfectly in line with the theme of the night.

Amazed, Lexa looked at the tape deck and then at the girl driving who did a stupid dance to an outrageously peppy song by the Ronettes because Clarke made a soundtrack and it was a movie except it was real, and that was all that mattered.

Clarke sang along, nudging her girlfriend until she hummed along as well.

XXXXXXXXXX

“So you admit, it was fun.”

“It was the most fun I’ve ever had at a dance,” Lexa finally acquiesced as she slid off hr coat and hung it on the banister.

“I will take all the credit then,” Clarke decided as she kicked off her shoes and made her way down the hall, flipping on lights as she went. “I’m clearly an amazing date to these types of things. I should hire myself out.”

For a few minutes, Clarke kept going on about the dance, but Lexa was somewhat distracted. She heard her voice, tossed down the hall as she approached, filled with a kind of happiness that was contagious. But Lexa found herself looking around the house that she’d only been in once before, now fully able to enjoy it without fear of running into Clarke’s parents. She wasn’t sure if it was her that was nervous to meet them, or Clarke’s possible fear.

But now, she gazed at a few pictures on the wall before moving into the modern living room. She always thought her parents were sparse, disinterested decorators, but Clarke’s place took the cake. It was spartan, but on purpose, which Lexa never really understood. Maybe it was the lack of people, maybe it was the night, maybe it was what she already knew, but it didn’t feel as warm as her house, there were no signs of life, and Lexa furrowed as she touched the back of the couch.

“My mom re-did the whole place,” Clarke interrupted Lexa’s perusal, leaning against the wall closer to the dining room. “It’s for when my dad needs a wheelchair. He can get around better.”

“I wasn’t—”

“It’s not quite right, right?”

As much as she wanted to lie, Lexa didn’t have it in her. Instead she just shrugged and tried to find something.

“It’s a beautiful room. It reminds me of something you’d see in a movie. Perfect, you know?”

“Maybe that’s why I’m so obsessed with making a mess,” Clarke suggested, earning a smile as Lexa approached her slowly, still looking around. “My mom gets so mad, but I leave clothes all over the place, homework, books, trash, cups, just so it seems like we live here.”

“Maybe you’re just a troublemaker.”

Pulled back from too much thinking, Clarke snorted but smiled at the accusation. There was a little of that to it all, too, but no one had to know that part.

“Want to shower? I can grab some snacks.”

Lexa nodded, disliking the feeling of sweat and hair gel and make up and all of it on her skin, terrified to have to sleep in it. But she didn’t move. Just stood in front of the girl who tentatively reached out her hands and snaked a finger through her belt loops, tugging forward.

Pressed against Clarke, Lexa anchored her hands on Clarke’s ribs and smiled, eyes darting toward her lips.

“Can I, uh,” Lexa furrowed, her brain eventually overcoming the haze that happened when she was near Clarke, her brain finally thinking for itself despite how disorienting it was. “I really would like to— There’s… “ she clenched her jaw and took a deep breath. “Don’t move, okay?”

Amused by the display, Clarke just nodded and watched Lexa overthink too much. She could never really articulate that this was why she enjoyed Lexa; this brain, this honesty, this feeling that nothing else in the world existed. She was quietly consuming.

But slowly, Lexa leaned forward, and Clarke held her breath when she felt Lexa’s against her skin. And she gripped her fingers tighter. And she closed her eyes when Lexa kissed her cheek, kissed her jaw, moved to her neck. A hand moved to the other side of her throat and it must have felt Clarke gulp as warm lips softly kissed her pulse. Even though her eyes were knit tight, they rolled back at the feeling, taking a few extra seconds to realize it wasn’t happening anymore.

“Fuck,” she whispered.

“I, um, I like that. Uh, the. Um,” Lexa nodded slightly, bashful. “I like kissing your neck. I thought about that a lot tonight. You look very pretty.”

As she said it, eyes roved over Clarke’s face, moved to her own hand that was cupping her neck, and Lexa smiled as her thumb moved along jaw bone. And when Clarke opened her eyes, she smiled involuntarily and pushed hair from her face.

“That’s a fairly good place to start some funny business. And you should definitely give me a minute.”

Lexa furrowed and watched the blood rush to Clarke’s cheeks. She could almost feel the burn beneath her fingertips.

“I’m sorr—”

A hand went over her mouth as Clarke shook her head and smiled, taking a shaky breath as she got her wits back.

“I want you to feel comfortable doing whatever you want,” she promised. “And fuck if I didn’t love that. You don’t have to be afraid of me, or messing up, or… I don’t know. You’re allowed to kiss me, however you want.”

“Like right now or in general?”

Clarke chuckled and shook her head, letting it flop back against the wall with a thud as she rolled her eyes. She knew the look Lexa had on her face, perplexed and unsure, and she knew the furrow would be there. She knew that all of it would make her hear feel warm.

“My girlfriend doesn’t need to get a permission slip every time she wants to touch me. In fact, I’d prefer a real blanket level of consent that you trust I’ll stop something I don’t like.”

“Who’s that?” Lexa furrowed. “Oh. Wait. Me?”

Clarke sighed and moved her hands to hold Lexa’s ears as she wiggled her head slightly, Lexa’s smile finally coming despite her eagerness to stifle it.

“If you think you’re woman enough for the job.”

“And I get to kiss your neck like a lot. And you can sit on my lap at parties. And go to dances together. And all of that?”

“Those are some of the basic requirements, yes, but also not limited to listening to me talk during movies,” Clarke explained, earning a bit of a frown, which just further solidified her affections, “Letting me be your pep squad during soccer and track season.”

“With cookies?”

“With cookies. And definitely kissing me often. Holding my hand sometimes. Letting me give you rides after work. Being someone I talk to about anything. And definitely letting me grab your butt a lot.”

“Should I be writing this down?”

Clarke laughed, her hands slipping slightly as she wrapped her arms around Lexa’s shoulders and hugging her tightly.

“Just keep being the girl who walked into the diner and texted me all night.”

“I can do that.”

“Good.”

Lexa smiled, her heart racing as she hugged her girlfriend back. She said that word in her head a million times in under a second. It flashed quicker than sound.

XXXXXXXX

“I feel like a whole new girl. Showers are the best invention of all of human history,” Clarke moaned as she walked into the bedroom, toweling at her wet hair.

“I’m sure the polio vaccine must be up toward the top. Or electricity. People are nuts about sliced bread.”

“I stand by my pick for the best invention. Yours are boring.”

Lexa just rolled her eyes and smiled as she readjusted in Clarke’s bed, crossing her legs and snuggling deeper into the pillows as some old movie she didn’t recognize played on the television. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Clarke finish brushing her hair before clicking off a light and making her way around the bed. Her eyes never left the figure as the room was lit only by the black and white screen.

“Is this okay? I can stay in the spare?” Clarke offered as she lifted the edge of her duvet.

“No, no this is… yeah. This is great.”

“Good.”

With a quick jump, Clarke was beside her, though they were separated with Lexa outside of the cocoon. Lexa smelled Clarke’s soap and her room and it was more than enough.

“You called me your girlfriend,” Lexa began after a few moments of quiet.

“I did. I guess I had been in my head for a while.”

“I never imagined that I’d be someone’s girlfriend. Or… that you’d be mine. Does that mean you’ll stick around?”

“I really want to.”

“Even when I’m not… even when like, my– I don’t. Even when I– when I– when this happens and I can’t say words right?” Lexa finally blurted.

“Especially then,” Clarke promised. Lexa nodded.

“Sometimes it’s like my brain doesn’t work right.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just that it… It sometimes. I know how I feel, but sometimes I can’t get it out.”

“Yeah. I’ve noticed. But when you get there, it’s fantastic.”

Lexa blushed slightly at the observation, suddenly confused as to how someone saw her and knew these things. She wanted to know what she looked like to Clarke so badly. She wanted to see the things she liked that she hated about herself. She wanted to know who she was to someone like that. Instead she just sighed and offered a small smile.

“We joke that my sister got all of the feeling. I like movies because they make people feel things.”

“I don’t think you’re bad at saying things. I think you’re precise, and I think people are impatient. But I’d rather hear what you have to say than most people.”

Clarke watched as her girlfriend furrowed and stared at the movie, her jaw clenching somewhat, the purposefulness of her thoughts wrestling around her brain and playing across her face. And when she turned to her, in the dim light of the bedroom, the movie flashed across her face dramatically. She very much wanted to know what Lexa saw that made her furrow lessen and her smile grow just the slightest.

“I really like you,” Lexa confessed.

It was very honest. It was exceedingly honest and pure and Clarke knew it because Lexa put so much weight into it and so much thought, debating it from every side before she confessed.

“See? You’re great with feelings,” Clarke teased.

“Nah.”

“I think I might try a page out of your book.”

“Oh?”

Clarke moved only slightly to sit up beside Lexa, moving so she was on her knees. She smiled and pressed her hand against her chest, pinning her there gently.

“Just. Don’t move, okay?”

Lexa nodded, almost imperceptibly, as if Clarke’s request started immediately. With a small smile, Clarke moved forward, her lips on Lexa’s softly at first and then deeper. She was kissing her girlfriend, and she was allowed.

But Lexa wasn’t good at listening. She pushed forward and held Clarke back, enjoying the feeling of her tongue so much she whimpered. It didn’t matter. Clarke straddled her and the covers got tangled and her hands were on hips. She gripped there tightly.

When lips moved to her neck, Lexa knew she was a goner. There wasn’t anything better in life. She moaned, unsure of why that was a noise she now made. Clarke just smiled.

“I don’t want to move too quickly,” Clarke muttered. “But you are insanely hot.”

“It’s not that warm in here.”

That was it. Lexa ruined it in two minutes. Clarke pulled back and looked at her with an amused smile. She adjusted her glasses, finally tearing her hands from feeling her girlfriends hips.

“You really don’t know how absolutely sexy you are, do you?”

“God, me? No,” Lexa scoffed, blushing slightly at the notion, earning a roll of eyes before Clarke leaned forward again.

Lips moved to the other side of her neck and Lexa fumbled with words she didn’t need, so she kept quiet. Clarke’s hips moved slightly and Lexa felt her thighs shift, making her woozy.

“When do you want me to stop?” Clarke whispered, her hand somehow halfway up Lexa’s shirt without her noticing until she felt fingertips near her bra.

“Fuck. Never.”

Clarke chuckled and pulled away before earning a needy, heady kiss from the girl beneath her.

“How far are we going?” Clarke asked, breathless and aching.

“How far can we go?”

“How far do you want to go?”

“I… I don’t know. I don’t know what to do. But I want to do something.”

There was a smile that started on Clarke’s lips despite the honesty Lexa was hopeful was enough. She certainly wasn’t sure what she was allowed to do; she didn’t even know that having a girlfriend meant she had to let her talk through movies, and frankly that part was still concerning and something she wanted to remember to come back to in the near future.

With a slight shift, Clarke moved so she wasn’t straddling her girlfriend anymore and laid down on the bed beside her, hair drying and making a mess around her. The movie played and didn’t illuminate much, but Lexa saw Clarke start to lift up her shirt, saw her stomach show in the grey of the screen.

“I didn’t invite you over for funny business,” Clarke promised. “But since we’re here, right?”

Lexa couldn’t really speak. She just nodded eagerly, her mouth obscenely dry. She wanted water. She wanted to taste Clarke’s hip bones. No sex talk with her parents prepared her for this, and even thinking about their sex talks did nothing to deter her in the slightest.

“I… I… I don’t know what to do.”

“What do you want to do?”

“Can I…?” Lexa shifted, her hand stuttering over Clarke’s at the edge of her shirt. She waited, hovering until she earned a nod.

Clarke saw the studious face. She saw the hesitation mingling with the dark of the room and the light from the television. She was entranced, oddly vulnerable, and insanely turned on and she wasn’t sure what else was going to happen just that she never trusted anyone as much as Lexa because Lexa looked at her like she was precious and a natural wonder of the world, and no one had a right to look at anyone like that. Never.

Very slowly, Lexa let her fingertips find Clarke’s skin. She sat up, leaned forward, watched as she touched her in the light of the movie. She moved up along the ridge of ribs there, feeling them buried, feeling them shift and swell as she took a breath.

With a swallow and a quick look at Clarke, she pushed the shirt a little higher, her breath growing quicker as she did until she stopped. Clarke bit her lip and swallowed what felt like a purr, confused as to why her body did that. But Lexa placed her palm on her rib, ran her thumb along her chest and kissed the other side.

“Jesus,” Clarke whispered.

It didn’t seem quite right, that someone could be so tender. She wasn’t fragile, but there was something to be being held like she would break.

“That’s what you wanted to do?”

“Yeah,” Lexa smiled, kissing her again, inching the shirt up higher. “One of the things. Thank you for… thanks for going this speed.”

“What speed is this?”

“Unsure.”

Clarke watched Lexa not push her luck. She watched her look at her hand. She felt her kiss her one more time before pulling away and staring back at her, content, as if she was happier than she ever felt she should allow herself to be.

She held her own hands at her shirt, prepared to take it off. Prepared for much more. But the look on Lexa’s face was perfect, and before she could decide, Lexa shifted and laid down beside her, kissing her neck, kissing her jaw, running her nose along her cheek before kissing the corner of her mouth.

“You’re going to kill me, Woods.”

“Shut up and kiss me.”

“You can’t talk to me like that, I’m your girlfriend.”

Lexa beamed, even with her eyes closed. Fingertips tickled along Clarke’s ribs and a leg shifted against her hip.

“I really need you to write me a rule book.”

Chapter Text

The sun hung, shy of noon but still late in the morning, bright against the blinds, burning bright white and glaring despite the insistence that waking wasn’t an option by the inhabitants of the bed. From the late night, the tired hung heavier than normal for the morning person in bed as she slowly woke and shifted, yawning and burying her face in the pillow again to try to grasp at the last semblances of sleep.

It took a while for Lexa to realize that she was in Clarke’s bed and not her own. The memory of the previous night slowly swirled around her consciousness as she remembered the dance, and the moments where Clarke tugged her along to the dance floor and kissed her sweetly. The memory of arriving at an empty house and feeling Clarke in bed, pushing her limits as far as she could before she imploded.

Lexa was afraid to move too much when she realized what was happening. She opened her eyes and surveyed the room in the morning light, and felt the body beside her shift and sigh in her sleep. Only after she was certain Clarke was asleep did she chance rolling over and facing the blonde.

On her back and quite a large sleeper, Clarke’s arm hung off the bed with the other around Lexa’s shoulder. The blankets hung low and her stomach showed beneath the old shirt while her hair was a mess on the pillow, covering everything. Lexa inhaled the smell of Clarke’s sheets and felt her dip in the mattress and felt where their legs touched and she tentatively slid her hand around Clarke’s hip, running her thumb across skin there.

Not ever had she allowed herself to imagine this moment, that she would share her bed with someone and want to touch them so badly, or that it felt good to feel the bed move. She hadn’t even thought about what a life worth sharing would look like, but it wasn’t the worst. It was something that made her feel very normal and warm.

The head cheerleader was pretty. She was kind and funny and sometimes stubborn to the point of obstinate. But she slept freely, arms and body open and eager for life, not at all defensive or cuddled up tiny. There was hope for her, Lexa realized, beneath the stress and the front she put up for the rest of the world.

Slowly, Clarke stirred, Lexa’s thumb on her hip making her wake. She tugged at the body that was warm and beside her, smiling as she oke and humming along with the sound of the morning.

“Hey,” Clarke whispered, still not opening her eyes.

“Morning.”

“Sleep okay?”

“Really well.”

“You’re kind of a blanket thief.”

“You kick in your sleep.”

“That doesn’t sound like me,” Clarke shook her head, rolling into her girlfriend embrace.

She had a girlfriend now. She had one of those things that she wasn’t quite sure what it meant except that if it was anything like dating Bellamy it would be somewhat nice. In such a short amount of time, she realized she hadn’t even thought about her ex at all. Gone was the apathetic notion of occasionally hanging out. Now, she found someone who blushed just to look at her, and there was something insanely wonderful about being liked.

“Good morning,” Lexa whispered again. She ran toes along bare calf and hooked herself closer to Clarke.

Still without opening her eyes, lethargic and quiet, Clarke kissed Lexa. She felt her lips and her body warmed with the feeling of it all. Lexa was a deceptively good kisser, even if she’d never think about something like that. She moved with a kind of ownership. There wasn’t a sensitivity or apprehension despite the inevitable overthinking, but rather a solid level of taking the reins and taking what she wanted.

Clarke dug her hand into Lexa’s messy hair and felt hands on her hips slip up her back and hips shift. She hadn’t meant to kiss that hard or that long, but she couldn’t stop and she wasn’t about to if Lexa was doing that thing with her teeth and tongue.

“So, girlfriend huh?”

“If you think you’re up to the job,” Clarke grinned and adjusted, tugging at the hem of Lexa’s old shift. “It comes with perks.”

“I’m kind of serious about a rule book.”

“There aren’t rules, you goober.”

“There have to be.”

“Nah, just good things. Like maybe spending a little time waking up together.”

“I like it so far,” Lexa conceded as her shirt rose and she watched Clarke’s fingers move up her torso.

“It means we get to keep picking up wherever we left off.”

There was a hand that slid up her chest and Lexa felt her knees go weak even though she was laying down. She felt a hand squeeze her, and fingertips run over her chest beneath her shirt, and she shifted despite herself. Clarke’s lips moved to her neck and her chin.

Eyes rolled back and dangerously flushed, Lexa swallowed and let Clarke move even more, rolling on top of her so her weight pinned her to the bed. It was just a good thing that Clarke was pressing against her chest, because Lexa was certain her limbs would pop.

For some reason, there was no hesitation in pushing back. Lexa moved without thinking, spreading her legs and slipping her hand low on Clarke’s hip. She didn’t hesitate to chase lips and clumsily chase any feeling of skin she could find. She sought the moan and the sigh and the noises that plagued her every thought.

But Clarke stopped, bolting up suddenly, her hands still rooted under Lexa’s shirt, palms warm and heavenly. She cocked her head, waiting for another sound before jolting out of the bed quickly and pulling clothes off of the floor to put on.

“You have to hide.”

“Hide? Why? What happened?”

“I thought my parents wouldn’t be home until this afternoon–”

“It’s…” Lexa squinted and looked at her phone as she leaned over the bed and grabbed it from the night stand. “It’s almost noon.”

“Clarke, honey, we’re home!” her mother’s voice rang through the halls.

Clarke froze and stared at her girlfriend, wide-eyed and hair an absolute messy mane, tossed about haphazardly, her lips somewhat puffy from their excursion.

“I’ll be grounded for life if she finds you in here.”

“I thought I was allowed over.”

“I don’t think I ever said that,” Clarke shook her head, looking for clothes as she pushed her hair out of her face. “I said that my parents wouldn’t be here and you should come over.”

“Clarke, this isn’t the time for semantics.”

“You’re impinging on my honor. Now will you please get under my bed?”

“Are you kidding me?”

The look Lexa got in return was clearly showing that it wasn’t a joke, and with a sigh, she got to the ground and slid under the bed easy, careful to make sure she wasn’t visible at all. It wasn’t a second too soon. Just as Clarke kicked the remnants of Lexa’s outfit under the bed, the bedroom door opened.

“You’re still not up? Clarke, it’s nearly lunch time.”

“I’m getting up,” Clarke defended herself, taking a seat on the edge of the bed as she slipped on socks. “I’m going to go grab lunch with Lexa.”

“You just went to the dance, do you have to go out every day, Clarke? Don’t you have to study for the SAT and your History exam?”

“I’m fine for both.”

“Between work and this, this, this new girl, I don’t know how you get any studying done. It’s not good to be so wrapped up–”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re young, and you have to understand–”

“Do we have to do this lecture again? Can’t I just read the footnotes of the last dozen or so that you’ve given me?”

“If you’re going to talk like that, you can forget leaving this house.”

Lexa held her breath and closed her eyes, pressing herself against the floor as hard as she could, desperate to be away from the situation as best she could.

“I’ll be back around six,” Clarke muttered, picking up her coat and making her way toward the door.

The impending fow leaked out into the hall, and Lexa felt herself breathe when the bedroom door slammed and Abby followed her daughter through the house. Only when everything was centered down in the living room did she slip out from under the bed, goofy grin on her face at the narrow escape she’d made and how absolutely fascinating it’d already been to date Clarke Griffin.

With a few quick movements and still barefoot but with her clothes in hand, Lexa lifted Clarke’s window, tossed them down, and jumped down to the ground.

When she turned around, she met the eyes of the man she assumed to be Clarke’s father, or at least the same eyes of the man in all of the pictures that hung on the wall and that Clarke had scattered about her room.

Frozen, she didn’t move for a solid minute, but it felt much longer. She was certain there was a mark on her neck. She knew that there was lipstick on the white shirt she wore. She knew what it looked like and she gulped before leaning down to pick up her pile of clothes and bolting through the yard as fast as her feet would carry her.

“Your daughter is absolutely impossible. You have to deal with her because I’m at the end of my rope,” Abby muttered as she stomped her way into the kitchen, beat again by a teenagers innate way of pushing the soft, mushy bruises of one’s person with inherent ease. “She’s out of control, no thought for the future, sleeps all day, works at that shitty diner, obsessing over school girl crushes, and for what? To cheer? To just settle for drawing pictures?”

Without moving, Jacob Griffin braced himself against the counter in the kitchen as he struggled to finish getting a glass of water from the sink. But he chuckled to himself and shook his head.

“What’s so funny?” his wife furrowed, crossing her arms.

“I just saw the weirdest looking deer in the yard.”

“You aren’t even listening to–”

Off on another tangent, his wife tossed up her hands and ranted through the house while he stood there and shook his head, once again in awe of his daughter’s antics.

XXXXXXXXXX

“So you jumped out of her bedroom window?”

“Yup.”

“And her dad saw?”

“Yeah.”

“And you didn’t hook up with her?”

“No.”

“But you’re her girlfriend.”

“Yeah. That’s what she said.”

Lexa balanced the phone against her ear as she half listened to her sister and half fret over a piece of footage that didn’t feel quite right. She went back and watched the clip a few times, debating the edit Luna had made. Half hunched over her computer desk, her headphones half hung on an ear while the other was tugged to the side so she could hear her sister. She used a pencil to itch her shoulder before jotting a few notes in the often sloppy notebook that spread out across her desk.

A mug of tea was half-sipped and cooling past the point of enjoyable. Rain tapped against the window, and Lexa could ear the nagging in her sister’s voice.

“So how do you feel now?”

“About what?” Lexa furrowed, going back and pressing play again.

“About dating someone.”

“Well, it feels pretty much like not dating someone, except now I get to make out sometimes.”

“You’re not like, you know,” Anya ventured, surprisingly walking around the point as gently as she, a human cannonball, was capable. “You’re not like getting too into it, right?”

“I mean, I’m kind of into it. Clarke’s great.”

“You can’t get in over your head, Lex. Be careful.”

“What do you mean?” she furrowed, confused enough to step back from focusing on the computer. She had a pretty firm deadline and a script to write. Her script. Her submission for college. She had a lot to do as well as study for a physics test, write a history paper, and put together the video for AV club and the championship game.

“You’ve never done this before,” the eldest cautioned. “Don’t get so wrapped up in someone that you lose yourself.”

“No, I couldn’t.”

“You could. It happens.”

“Not to you.”

“Because I’m a heartbreaker, not a heartbroken sap.”

“I’m not a sap.”

“You are.”

“How?”

“Just. Shut up. Listen,” Anya sighed. Across the country she stopped walking in the middle of the sidewalk in the busy city on the college side of town. Hidden beneath a thick beanie her hair was fighting against her ears. Streetlights were already on, and she imagined her sister in a similar position to what she could be found, tucked up at her desk and half listening.

But she was a big sister who failed to protect Aden, and failed to help her sister most of the time, who failed to keep her parents from hiding, who let everyone shrink, and somehow, the self-appointed patriarch of the family was prepared to off some caution.

“You let someone be part of our life, and you don’t give any of yourself away for them. You feel things different, and it’s not a bad thing. But you are good Lexa. You have to be careful not to give yourself up.”

“I don’t know what any of that means. I really just felt Clarke’s boobs for the first time last night.”

“I’m trying to teach you something important, moron.”

“Well, I don’t know what that means and I’m busy.”

“I need you to please understand at least part of the way.”

“Can I call you back?”

“No, just listen. Just. Okay, focus,” Anya sighed again, heavier than before. “Do you remember when you made me watch that movie where the husband and wife are getting a divorce, but they weren’t good at it? Like they kept fighting and by the end, you were confused how they ever loved each other and she yells at him, something about giving herself up.”

“Yeah, yeah, that movie was overacted and not edited well.”

“That’s not the point.”

“I’m not getting married or giving up my acting career for my husband’s success.”

It wasn’t quite the point, but Anya closed her eyes and shook her head, her cheeks tinted with the chill left in the not-quite-spring air. Maybe something seeped in, and as happy as she was for her sister doing something normal, like making out with a girl, Anya was still apprehensive because who else would be for her sister?

“Good.”

“That was a very good reference point.”

“You touched her boobs, huh?”

“Oh yeah,” Lexa smiled and nodded.

“How was it?”

“I’m definitely gay.”

It was a bark of a laugh, but Anya couldn’t help it. Lexa smiled and blushed slightly at the confession. It felt painfully real and honest.

“Fine, tell me about whatever you’re working on now.”

In an instant, Lexa was rambling about the problems with her new project and brainstorming aloud about her script and fretting over if her ideas were stupid or whatever. From the hallway, her father paused by her cracked door, and listened as his daughters talked as they did almost every other day, chatting about everything, even things he wished he hadn’t heard. But he loved them immensely in that moment.

Before he walked away, he made a mental note to have another sex talk with his daughter.

XXXXXXXXX

“I’m announcing myself so you don’t hurt yourself again!”

The voice came down the hall toward the garage as Lexa smiled and carefully extricated herself from beneath the Bronco’s body, grease covering her shoulder and neck. Hair up in a pony tail and old jeans covered in streaks.

It was not late in the evening, and part of Lexa knew she still had a bunch of stuff to do for the upcoming week, but she couldn’t bring herself to waste a Sunday without putting a little more work into her future car and escaping to the quiet of the garage to commune with the dead for a little while, mulling over her script while she took apart a transmission.

“You’re right on time to help me.”

“I don’t really do cars or anything, but I brought you a burger.”

Holding up a bag, Clarke appeared, grinning and waiting. Lexa accepted the bag and then leaned in for a kiss which was eagerly accepted and added to.

“How long have you been down here?” Clarke asked, taking a seat on the hood of the old SUV.

“Um,” Lexa looked at her watch and furrowed again. “Maybe a few hours.”

She took out her food and smiled before taking a bite, knowing enough to earn a disapproving glance because she disappeared into the garage. There was a bit of worry beneath it, something that Clarke didn’t quite understand, but that she was certainly almost getting, about communing and finding peace.

For a long while the two chatted about nothing and everything in particular, something Lexa was never really known to do. She didn’t usually have much to say, but sh always seemed to with Clarke. And there were moments of quiet, where she worked on something, consulting the giant manual like her father showed her, jotting notes in the pages as she went to work on heavy metal parts.

Clarke slipped inside the cab, onto the unfinished and torn seats, reclining on the uncomfortable chair. She put her feet up on the dashboard and mused about the upcoming week, and after digging through the engine well, Lexa looked at her and then her mind went blank as her hands moved.

“You should be the actor in my movie.”

“That is the worst suggestion I’ve ever heard from you,” Clarke rolled her eyes and adjusted the seat, fiddling with the visor, flipping it a few times.

“Wait,” Lexa stopped and furrowed, twirling the wrench in her hand for a second. “Maybe not. Anya made a very strong parable with this exact situation.”

Hip half cocked, Lexa stood and stared at the engine under the hood, unsure of what she said, though she spent a good portion of time truly believing that it was important and that Clarke would be perfect. The disonnence didn’t make sense.

“I’m not an actor.”

“It’ll work. Very Linklater-esque, I think.”

“His movies are too long.”

“It’ll be easy.”

“I don’t want to interrupt your art or whatever.”

“I think I really mean it,” Lexa decided, wiping her hands on an old cloth as she surveyed the workbench, afraid to turn around.

“Why don’t you actually really mean it, and then we can talk numbers.”

“Oh, I can’t pay you anything.”

“You’ll have to talk to my agent to negotiate.”

Lexa just rolled her eyes and hopped into the passenger side of her own shell of a car. Clarke greeted her with a big smile as some music played from her phone in the middle of the cup holder. She leaned forward and earned another kiss, this one deeper than the first, content and slightly tired and in need of a shower. But it didn’t stop Clarke from tugging her across the middle.

“I didn’t get to see you much this week.”

“Cross country kicked my ass, and finishing this script. This is the first time I’ve made it to the garage. My dad’s going to come down and help me on a few things after dinner.”

“He just got back, yeah?”

“Mhm. Stockholm.”

Clarke pulled back.

“I shouldn’t mount you, I guess.”

“I mean, I’m okay with it.”

The cheerleader just laughed and shook her head.

“Thank you for distracting me.”

“I didn’t know I was.”

“You are. I needed it today.”

“I think that’s part of my job, honestly.”

“I call you my girlfriend once, and you already have a list of job responsibilities.”

“You’re a full-time job,” Lexa smiled, earning a pretty face and eyes and all of it, even though she was absolutely caked in dirt and had been unresponsive for hours.

“I know.”

Chapter Text

“One more time,” Lexa called out, walking backwards to the other end of the lane, her sneakers kicking up some dust as she moved and watched the playback on her phone.

“Your girlfriend is a little intense, eh?” Evan asked as he followed Clarke back to the start of their scene.

Clarke looked up and wiped a little sweat from her brow as she watched Lexa move with Luna, talking about something, watching her phone while Luna juggled a camera and a script that’d seen better days. The messy waves were tamed, tied up and hidden by a baseball hat from her sister’s university, well-tattered and sweat-lined. The sleeves on her shirt were rolled up, exposing a slight bit of bicep, her jeans were caked in dirt and mud.

“She’s hot though, right?”

“I’m not answering that.”

“I’ll allow you to answer it just this once.”

“In a weird way, yeah, I guess,” he shrugged. “Ow! What the fuck?”

“She’s super hot in a normal way,” Clarke informed him after socking his arm.

“I meant like, I never considered it. Like, weird in a way I hadn’t considered. I’d prefer not to think of her like that, but you made me.”

“Good, and you’ll never think of her like that ever again.”

“Let’s give it one more go, and this time, Evan, I want you to pause before you answer Clarke. I want her words to ring for a moment. Play it how you think your character would feel it. Just for fun.”

He nodded and Clarke smiled at how serious Lexa was, how intricately she thought about the scene. They’d been at it for three weeks and were nearly finished, toiling away after school as best they could, and Clarke found that she didn’t think she was the world’s greatest actress, but that she did enjoy seeing her girlfriend doing something she was insanely passionate about. There’s a bit of magic in seeing someone happy about something they enjoy. As silly as it might have seemed, Clarke let her imagination wonder to the idea of Lexa actually achieving her dream, of making things. She jumped twenty years, and Lexa was the exact same person, but different, but better, somehow. It was silly, but it helped.

“Notes for me, sir?” she ventured.

“You’re perfect. Keep being perfect.”

As silly as it was again, Clarke smiled proudly and ignored the eye roll Luna gave before setting up with the camera again.

In reality, it was about six more takes, two more requested by Luna, three requested by Evan, and once by Clarke. It was infectious to care and try to do better. But they were finally done with all else, and the end somehow felt so final. Though she’d been hesitant to try, now that they’d created something, Clarke felt connected to the entire thing.

“So when will I get to see the entire thing?” Clarke asked, carefully dropping a bag of equipment on Lexa’s bedroom floor.

“Oh, uh, maybe at the end of the summer? It’ll go through a ton of work with Luna and myself, and I’m not sure what we’re going to do… I will definitely show you though as soon as it is done.”

“I’d hope so.”

“Thank you for helping me with this,” Lexa offered as she ran her hand over the back of her neck. “I know you are really busy. SAT, work, school, pep squad.”

“And you’re not?”

“Well, yeah, but I chose this, and you were recruited,” she shrugged.

With a sigh, Lexa plopped onto her bed, tired and spent from the busy weekend.

“You can recruit me anytime,” Clarke promised.

In a move that was still somewhat new to Lexa, hips circled her own, and knees gripped her thighs, and that led to a lot of feelings in her body, especially in the below the belt part that she hadn’t particularly figured out in the practical sense. Theoretically she knew exactly what was happening.

Without saying anything else, Clarke removed her girlfriend’s ball cap and tossed it on the bed. Lexa held her hips, ran her hands up her thighs and squeezed there, careful not to move her eyes anywhere but Clarke’s face. But they closed on their own when hands ran along her temples, scratching the sweat and soreness away, melting her instantly.

There’d been a truce ever since the dance. There’d been a few make outs that went slightly past polite. There’d been a few time hands wandered lazily where they might not have been allowed, but didn’t care about no trespassing signs. There hadn’t been Clarke in her lap though, and Lexa knew this was different. She made it different when her hands slid around hips and toward Clarke’s ass. She squeezed and she thought she’d died.

By the time Clarke kissed her, Lexa realized she was on her back in her bed with the head cheerleader on top of her. When hips pushed against her, she realized she was going to stop. Hands went to her chest. Hands slid under her shirt. Hands slid under her bra and she pushed back against being pinned.

It all disappeared in a second, and confused at the loss of lips and contact, Lexa opened her eyes and searched. Clarke sat there, hands braced on her stomach until she lifted her own shirt and tossed it on the floor. Scrambling, Lexa lifted herself, tangling her arms in an attempt at solidarity in taking clothes off only to be aided by an amused girlfriend.

“Wow,” she whispered, taking her time to look over new skin before her. She kept her hands locked on Clarke’s hips despite wanting to move them. She let her eyes roam shamelessly. “You’re like… wow.”

“Is this okay?”

“Very okay.”

“Thank God,” Clarke nodded before leaning back down, cupping Lexa’s face, and kissing her again, fiercer this time, if it were possible.

Hips moved more this time. Breathing picked up more. Hands pulled, tugged, grasped tighter. They clawed at each other and at more, at what their bodies already knew how to do but their brains overthought and tempered. It was a battle of want and need and restraint, and in it, they both knew which was losing.

In a shaky attempt, Lexa somehow unhooked Clarke’s bra. And in an instant her girlfriend was topless on top of her, and now her lower half was absolutely made of lava. It was painfully molten.

“Oh… my…. Goodness,” she hummed.

Clarke pressed her hands harder against Lexa’s ribs and rotated her hips. Lexa slid her hands up Clarke’s chest and squeezed. She watched her hands moved and touch and feel. She was touching someone else’s nipples for the first time ever, which was a weird thing to be cognizant of, but something that she never imagined desiring. But she did. And she wanted to memorize it entirely. She earned a hum and she pushed her hips up, in an off-kilter response to Clarke’s hips.

“Hey Lex, you home, sweetheart?” a voice called out from down the hall.

The spell was broken. The frantic, hot buildup was drenched in freezing cold water. The skin on display was covered with shirts as quickly as possible and the contact of bodies was broken with as much space as humanely possible placed between them.

“Yeah, uh,” Lexa cleared her throat and tucked in her shirt for some reason as she stood, her legs wobbly and her head not much more sturdy. “Just got home.”

“Your mom is bringing home dinner. She got sandwiches from the deli.”

“Sounds good!”

“Want to work on your car?”

“Yeah, I’ll be down in a few minutes.”

“Sounds good, kiddo. I’m just going to go change.”

Her father’s voice faded as he moved toward his room. Lexa leaned against her door and looked back at Clarke in her room. The blonde just pushed her hair out of her face and tried to adjust her shirt, tugging her bra slightly from the quick reassembly of her parts. Her lips were puffy. Her cheeks were bright red. She was perfect, Lexa realized.

Lexa cleared her throat again and redid her pony tail.

“So that was–”

“Really good,” Clarke finished. “Maybe we should… it’s good your dad– we should talk about this, right?”

“Um, yeah, I think.”

“Not right now though.”

“Of course, yeah,” Lexa nodded, unsure exactly what was going to be discussed and even worse when it would be. She needed more context clues because too much had just occurred, and she was a specifics type of girl.

“I should head home. I have to finish some physics homework and take a cold shower.”

“Right, yeah. It was hot out there today and I kept you out in the sun.”

“Okay, we definitely are going to have to have some conversations.”

“Am I in trouble?” Lexa asked, cocking her head as Clarke picked up her backpack and shouldered it, making her way to the door.

“Not at all. I just want to be able to talk about sex with you before we do it because I imagine you might need it, and to be honest I’m not sure how much longer I can survive how sexy you are.”

Sex. Clarke wanted sex. They had almost, Lexa imagined. And Clarke was talking about sex with her and wanted to talk about sex with her and wanted to have sex with her and talk about the having of sex with her and they were going to have sex. Having sex was an option that they were going to talk because they were going to have sex and they should talk about it. It was going to be a thing that was discussed between the two of them because sex was going to happen and it might have almost happened and they should talk about the sex that almost and might also in the future happen. Sex.

“I’m kidding,” Clarke assured Lexa, pressing her hand to the center of her chest and bringing her back from the place she just died and went to. “I can wait however long we need to, but I think we should talk about it so something like this doesn’t happen and we don’t have a clear line drawn or not drawn. Think about where your line is, I guess and then we can talk about it.”

“Okay.”

Clarke kissed Lexa’s cheek and then her jaw and then her neck and then her lips.

“Are you okay?”

“Mhm. Yes. Me okay. I’m okay. Always ok.”

“Did I melt your brain with the mention of sex?” Clarke smiled.

“Yeah, kind of.”

“No rush, I promise. Just like to be prepared.”

“Like a boy scout.”

“Don’t stress. I like you.”

“Mmm,” Lexa nodded and tried to make her eyes not be completely huge, tried to make her heart stop throbbing in her pants and ears, tried to make her brain not explode or melt.

“I’ll talk to you later. Have fun with your dad.”

“Mmm,” she hummed and nodded as Clarke moved past her toward the door. “See you tomorrow.”

In an instant, Clarke was gone, and Lexa looked down at her hands. They’d been on Clarke’s naked boobs. She looked at her hips. They’d been on Clarke’s thighs. She looked at her bed and how surprised she was that her body just did some of the things it did. She wasn’t sure what else it was capable of, but she decided she might need to do research.

XXXXXXXXXX

“I need to talk to you about two things.”

“Hey, I’m good, thanks for asking. Just cramming for some finals, but yeah I definitely have time to help you out.”

“Okay, good,” Lexa nodded to herself as she paced through the garage, twisting a wrench around as she moved, twirling it around her fingers. It all happened quite seriously as she surveyed the car as it was coming to life.

The house was empty, her parents out on a date. Luna was coming over shortly to work on some of their film, but Lexa had a few things she wanted to get done on her car. More than anything though, she needed to speak with her sister desperately regarding many things in her life.

“How have you been, Lex?”

“Pretty good.”

“Anything planned for the summer yet?”

“I have an internship with a film crew that’ll be in town for a few weeks. My history teacher’s old college roommate is first camera. Some movie of the week thing for the holidays.”

“Wow! Lex, that’s huge!”

“I guess. But I need to know about sex. Sex with another girl. You’re in college. Have you had sex with another girl?”

Anya choked on her sip of coffee as she stopped walking down the sidewalk. She nearly dropped part of her armload of books, but managed to get a grip at the last moment.

“Sorry to disappoint, but I haven’t.”

“I tried to ask Gus but he said he couldn’t talk to me about it, and I just need someone to tell me what to do because I’ve run out of online resources short of porn and to be honest I looked a few and I didn’t like it.”

“Lots of information to unpack in this…”

“What do I do or who do I talk to?”

“Just give me a second, okay?”

With a sign, Lexa sat the phone down on the edge of the car and went about the tough work of running some wires through the rear panel. If she was doing something with her hand, then she didn’t have to repeat the word sex nine hundred times per minute in her brain.

“You and Clarke are talking about having sex?”

“We’re talking about talking about it.”

“How long have you been dating?”

“Um since beginning of November. Almost six months.”

“Do you love her?”

“I don’t know. I mean…” Lexa paused her movements and furrowed. She hadn’t thought of it like that. It seemed almost insane to quantify her feelings into one word. She was excited to always see Clarke, and when she had a bad day, Clarke was the only person she really wanted to see, and when she did, the bad day just melted away. How was she supposed to figure out if it was love when she couldn’t compare it to anything else? She got butterflies still, when she saw her girlfriend. And Lexa felt this weird need to do things for Clarke, without being asked. She was helpful and attentive because the payoff of Clarke’s smile was worth even a few minutes of forethought. But she hadn’t considered that love, but maybe it was.

“I really don’t know. I like her a lot. I like how we are”

“That’s fair. I guess I should rephrase it. What makes you think you’re ready to have sex?”

“I really want to.”

“Okay, yeah, well everyone really wants to have sex, but what makes you think you’re ready? Can you confidently say where your boundaries are? Are you ready to have a much more intimate relationship with someone?”

“I was kind of just looking for more help in the mechanics of it.”

“That’s the easy part,” Anya smiled to herself as she took another sip of her coffee. The weather was changing, the spring breeze ruffled the trees so they loudly clamoured above as she moved with the crowd along the narrow sidewalk. “There’s a certain level of intimacy in having sex with someone, especially someone you really like. I’m not saying it’s good or bad, but it’s certainly different. Do you think you’re ready to do that?”

“I think so,” Lexa murmured after a moment of contemplation. She tapped a screwdriver against her thigh and stared at a single screw. “I really want to make her feel good and I know that sounds stupid, but I just… Sometimes it’s easier to want to kiss her than tell her exactly what I feel. I want to show her.”

“I can see how that would work. Just so long as you take a good bit of time and really consider it. And remember, even if you agree, you can change your mind at any time.”

“Ugh, not you too! Dad’s already given me a billion consent talks. I just want to go down on Clarke without making a fool of myself.”

Anya couldn’t help but laugh out loud at the outburst, but she somehow managed to hold her phone away from her mouth as she did. It took her a moment to recover.

“Just do what you like and listen to her. Ask her what she enjoys. Be receptive to how she sounds and moves. It’s really not that hard. Just give it your all.”

“This is all fine advice, but I still don’t know how to actually do it.”

“You’ll figure it out.”

“I don’t like leaving it up to chance.”

“You’ll be fine, I promise. You care for Clarke and I think she’ll be able to show you a thing or two.”

“What does that mean?” Lexa paused her movements and furrowed.

“You’ll see.”

“I really don’t like the sound of that.”

“You will, I promise.”

“Are you coming home this summer?”

“I might. So, sex with your girlfriend, huh?”

“Maybe. Is it weird that I just… I want everything to keep going how it has been? It’s been so easy and nice and I didn’t think dating Clarke would be so … so… easy?”

“That’s not weird at all. It sounds like you are having a good time.”

“I’m going to ask her to go to prom.”

“Wow,” Anya smiled to herself, doing her best to sound surprised by the news, as if it wasn’t customary to take once’s girlfriend to prom. “Are you going to do a big ask?”

“Nah, I don’t think that’s me,” Lexa shrugged, even though no one would see it. “And I don’t think it’s Clarke. She’s not like… she’s not like what I would have thought. She’s better.”

“You’ve got it bad.”

“Nah.”

It was nice to talk to her sister. It was nice to be put at ease, even if she just heard a bunch of stuff she already knew. Lexa wasn’t sure how it came to be that she was someone who talked to her sister every few days and actually filled her in on her life. She wasn’t sure how she enjoyed spending Saturday morning with her parents going on a hike or breakfast. She wasn’t sure how it came to be that the head cheerleader was soft and quiet and warm and made her feel like she was full of helium, but it was all happening, and Lexa felt herself open up to the world again without ever realizing she had been closed.

XXXXXXXXXX

For an entire seventy-two hours, Lexa let it all rattle around in her head, the words and the ideas and the thought of it all. All at once it felt like she didn’t know what came next while also incredibly knowing and that held her stuck. She hadn’t thought to ask for more, and she wasn’t sure how to have it. She knew that it was important, and she knew that was a different step than the ones she’d already taken.

Nothing seemed to change with Clarke though.

Lexa still held her girlfriend’s hand between classes, and they still hung out and texted and kissed and no one said anything despite Lexa taking her sister’s advice to really think about what it all meant.

She didn’t know what it meant. Not truly.

“That’s it. I quit. My brain is melting out of my ears.”

With an exaggerated flourish, the body on the bed flopped over and tossed a notebook onto the floor. Eyes rolled back before a tongue hung out and Lexa smiled from her spot at her desk. The music played softly from the speaker on the bookshelf. It was already dark outside as they worked on studying, but the lights reflected so that outside didn’t exist at all.

“Your brain isn’t melting. It’s just growing and growing and will soon explode.”

“I think I prefer the melting,” Clarke sighed.

Lexa smiled to herself because there was the head cheerleader laying in her bed. And Clarke was wearing her old soccer sweatshirt and she was tired from after work, but still stopped by before heading home just for a few hours of studying.

“Would you like to go to prom with me?”

“Me?”

“Yeah you,” Lexa decided, cocking her head slightly. The corpse in her room rolled over again and lifted her head. “With me.”

“Was it the melting brain thing that really sold you?”

“I just like how you look in my bed.”

“Your bed is very comfortable.”

“I thought about the sex thing and I don’t know if I’m ready right now, or by prom or whatever, but I want to just keep doing things slowly if that’s okay?”

Clarke sat up so she was kneeling on the bed. She’d already rolled the sleeves of the sweatshirt that hung a little long on her. There was a hole over the letter on the left part of her chest. Her hair was falling out of a messy bun, and her cheeks had their dimples in them. Lexa took a moment to remember it.

“That’s fine by me.”

“It is?”

“I like how fluid everything is with you. I just wanted you to be aware of what you were feeling and what your limits were.”

“I don’t know them right now, but I’ll know them as things happen, if that’s okay.”

“Very okay.”

“Do you want to go to prom with me?”

“Didn’t I already say yes?”

“No.”

“Well then, yes.”

“Cool,” Lexa grinned, holding her chin on her palm.

Clarke relaxed slightly and smiled back.

“Cool.”

Chapter Text

There weren’t many things considered as decorations in the house on the corner of Inglewood Street. The old stone house, with its black shutters and manicured lawn hid behind a stately oak and the polished Porsche in the driveway, glowed as a beacon in the neighborhood, of perfection and wealthy modesty. Inside, it was less populated than one might expect, never fully lived-in, at least not to the casual observer.

Clarke moved her way down the stairs as she balanced the bag on her shoulder, fully prepared for work and then studying with her girlfriend on a fairly boring Saturday night. For the first time in a long time, she looked at the sparse frames of pictures of her family.

Unsure of what made her pause, she furrowed, pushing her eyebrows tightly together and leaning into the image of her mother and father on a random date when they were together in college. They were carefree and at some bar trivia night. Abby hugged Jake’s bicep and nearly hid in his shoulder as he leaned forward, other arm lifted to interject an answer. He was smiling wide despite his eagerness, the flash ricocheting off part of his large glasses. His hair was floppy and fully, swept to the side and neatly arranged, while Abby was brimming with life. Clarke loved the candid picture because sometimes she looked at it, and these were two people who had entire lives and experiences and she forgot that. They probably got butterflies like she did when Lexa smiled at her. They probably spent hours excitedly waiting to see the other.

In that picture, her mother wasn’t the person she was now, though both seemed insanely far away from Clarke. This college-aged person was alive, vibrant, in-love, awake, eager, and not cheating on her husband. The body language alone showed how much she adored him.

In that picture, her father was the funny, charming man she remembered, not the angry, frustrated man who was skin and bones, who couldn’t eat, who couldn’t swallow, who had difficulties moving most days and remembering his own daughter others. He was alive as well. He was the man everyone wanted to sit beside for some reason, for som inexplicable reason he had this… he had a spark that drew those to him like a moth to a flame, except he was that flame, and he shared his light eagerly with those around him.

Clarke relaxed her face after a few moments of looking and seeing and trying to find some kind of detail in that picture that would indicate that the couple in it would know what their life would like like two decades later. There wasn’t a single indication, and that terrified her.

“Did you finish you math?” her mother’s voice called from the hallway, hearing her daughter shift and move to look at the next picture without seeing her first.

“Yes.”

The next image was a very tiny Clarke on her father’s shoulders and her mother hugging his waist as they all stood beneath a redwood tree. They had hiking gear, shorts, sunglasses, hats and sunscreen. They were all smiling. They were a family.

“Did you email me that draft of your personal essay for applications?”

Clarke gave up perusing, no longer feeling the yearn for that family unit that was far away. She rolled her eyes and stomped her way down the steps to find her mother sorting through envelopes and mail.

“No.”

“Why not?” Abby didn’t look up as she flipped.

“Because I’m a junior, and I have five months before applications are due.”

“That’s no excuse not to be prepared. Maybe if you didn’t spend so much time chasing after some gir–”

“Who am I chasing after?” Clarke scoffed, crossing her arms and peering at her mother. “Do you mean helping Lexa on her submission for film school? Do you mean tennis practice? Do you mean working part time? Do you mean having a social life?”

“Considerate that you can help someone else get into college.”

“It’s going to take her months to edit, which I can’t– I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

That did it. Clarke knew it would. Clarke new an overt expression of her own independence would trigger her mother. She knew arguing and not appearing to care about college would give her the satisfaction of a righteous fight. She wanted it. It’d been brewing for about a week and a half, ever since Clarke said she was going prom dress shopping without her. Ever since Clark forgot to tell her about spending the night camping with Lexa and the film crew while the powered through the project. Ever since Clarke didn't’ come home for dinner last Tuesday and then raved about Mrs. Woods’ garlic chicken. Tiny things Clarke did with spite because she didn’t know what else to do, because she couldn’t do anything else.

Abby’s nostrils flared and Clarke jutted her hip, shrugging to herself as she dug for her phone, ready to go to work and escape the house and the persistent smell of medical equipment and cleaner that haunted her until she was about two blocks from the house.

“I’ll be home around midnight.”

“Like hell you will. You’ll be home right after your shift.”

“No,” Clarke paused as she turned to leave. “I’m going over Lexa’s to study. We’re watching a Cary Grant movie.”

“You’re under the misconception that you get to make your own schedule and plans without asking permission. But that is not the case, Clarke.”

“I’ve been doing fine.”

“You’ve barely been home. Your father is–”

“Right there, in that room, asleep. I know this because I spent the morning with him. We made pancakes and played a game of cribbage. We talked about school and Lexa and I showed him pictures of the past week of my life. And I helped him with his meds because he’s having a bit of a flare. I told him I’d see him in the morning for omelettes because we’ve been watching cooking shows together and he wants to try the french style. I know exactly what is going on with my father.”

She hadn’t meant to, but her voice began to raise as she spoke. Clarke felt her fist shake. She felt her muscles tighten and her jaw clench. She was okay with being considered lazy and unmotivated, but to be accused of negligence was uncalled for, especially from someone like her mother.

“Don’t you raise your voice! You are greatly mistaken as to the nature of our relationship. I am your mother, and I am sick of your attitude, and your priorities not being your father and your family or your education.”

“Lexa has nothing to do with any of that. Are you just mad I’m dating a girl? Or that I don’t care what you think anymore?”

Slightly taken aback by her daughter, by her words, by her actions, by her entire demeanor over the past few months and frankly just sick of dealing with being the bad guy.

“I don’t even know who you are anymore,” Abby shook her head.

“I could say the same thing.”

The two stared at each other before Clarke shook her head and adjusted her bag. She toyed with her keys in her pockets before checking her phone again.

“I’m going to be late for work. I’ll be back tonight.”

“You’re not going anywhere,” Abby insisted again. “You’re grounded indefinitely.”

“Except I’m not,” Clarke sighed and shook her head. “I’m not because I don’t care anymore. I genuinely don’t.”

“You’re going to. Give me your keys and your phone.”

“No.”

“I’m not joking, Clarke. You’re going to need to readjust your priorities and attitude.”

“I think you should take your own advice,” Clarke insisted as she reached the front door. “Or are you too busy fucking Kane to realize that there is no more family here?”

With a satisfying slam, she yanked the door shut. The anger that was stationed in her shoulders dissipated with the noise and movement. Clarke stood there in the quiet of her perfect neighborhood, the flapping of the flag lazily moving in the spring breeze was all she heard at first. Then the birds came. Then a lawnmower started in the distance.

Clarke felt lighter than she’d felt in a long time. She also felt emptier than any other time in her life. It was officially the end, and now she had to deal with that because the anger and the hurt and the betrayal was all she’d had in her for what felt like months. It hadn’t made anything better, and it certainly ruined everything, but Clarke took some solace in the fact that now she could try to fill herself up with something else.

XXXXXXXXXX

The party at Bellamy Blake’s house was in full swing by the time Lexa made her way up the winding driveway and into the belly of the beast. She wasn’t sure how she ended up there exactly, except that her girlfriend texted and said to show up. That seemed to be enough of a reason, though Lexa wasn’t particularly prepared. They’d had plans. Quiet plans. Private plans. Movie plans.

And now Lexa was going to her girlfriend’s ex’s party.

She shoved her hands in her pockets as she moved through the crowd, clearly not getting the memo that jeans were not entirely good enough attire, and in fact she seemed to be extremely overdressed. Her eyes bugged slightly as she watched a girl from her physics class walk by in a very tiny, very teeny lime green bikini. Lexa became suddenly aware of the appeal of such things, as if she hadn’t noticed them before, but then MIchelle who sat diagonally in front of her third period looked like that and she gulped.

The music thumped loudly. The beats were rattling the walls and shaking the windows while the screams and giggles of her classmates sought to shatter glass. It wasn’t like the other parties she’d been to with Clarke. It wasn’t even like thrones Anya dragged her to when she visited. This was a night of debauchery and she hadn’t had time to prepare.

And as much as she saw everyone else wearing bikinis, she hadn’t thought about Clarke wearing one. She’d seen Clarke’s boobs before. That was nice. But there was something to her girlfriend in a bikini that was… good. Very good, even.

Lexa pushed her glasses up slightly on her nose and stared.

“What are you doing here?” Gus asked, approaching quietly. She didn’t move or say anything else, just stared from across the pool, the steam billowing upward to ward the sky while everyone seemed to glow blue and green and red, the lights alternating around them, the flames of the fire pits dancing to keep everyone warm. The warm glow of the lights inside were lost on the white-blue shade to the water.

“Lexa, focus,” he snapped his fingers in front of her face. “What are you doing here? Your sister would kill me if she knew you were at a Blake party.”

“How is it different than any other party?”

“It just is.”

“Because of the pool? I’ve been to pool parties.”

It hadn’t been since seventh grade and didn’t look like an episode of a CW show, but still, she’d been to a pool party with many of the same cast of characters that were currently on display. It was before puberty, but still.

“We need to get you home.”

“Clarke invited me.”

“It doesn’t matter. This isn’t your scene.”

“I can be in any scene. I’ve watched every John Hughes movie.”

“This is more of an episode of Euphoria than an 80s teen flick,” Gus sighed and took another swig from his cup. “And I fully believe you would fit in fine with Molly Ringwald.”

“That’s very kind of you to say,” Lexa nodded. “I’ll be fine.”

She took her eyes off of her girlfriend long enough to assure her friend that she was perfectly fine now. She was dating the head cheerleader. She’d been to parties and seen–

“Gus– is that cocaine?”

“Okay, yeah, we have to get you out of here,” he shook his head and tossed his empty cup into a flowerbed.

“Is it really?” she asked, craning her neck as he pushed her forward. “I’ve never see that in real life before. People actually do that thing with the credit cards and dollar bills? Astounding. Where does one get cocaine?”

“You don’t need to know that.”

“I’m not going to do it. I’m just curious.”

They only made it a few steps before the ran into a sopping body. A tall, muscular, tan, perfectly chiseled and dripping body. It was the body of an actual god. It was the body of the perfect specimen, with biceps and the long swimmer cuts that pointed firmly toward his… his-ness.

“Gus, long time, man. How you been?” Bellamy Blake grinned before slipping his cup in his teeth as he hugged the other football player.

“Not too bad. Heard you’re heading to Oregon in the fall?”

“Yeah, partial scholarship. We’ll see what happens,” he shrugged. “Staying close?”

“Yeah, St. Johns, about three hours away.”

“Full ride?”

“Yeah. I got offered half to OSU, but would rather not have to pay anything.”

“No, that’s smart.”

The whole time they spoke, Lexa watched Clarke’s ex intently. She frowned to herself and wondered how her girlfriend broke up with him. He was effortlessly cool. He was huge. He looked like he knew how to go down on a girl, and Lexa was still apprehensive. She wished she could fast forward in life until she was really good at sex.

She watched him grin and sip from his red cup, meeting her eyes curiously as Gus explained something about his college recruitment process.

“I don’t think we’ve ever met before. I’m Bellamy.”

He held out his hand. And though she didn’t want to do it, she sighed and shook his hand.

“Sorry, I should have introduced you. This is Lexa.”

“Lexa… Lexa…” He mulled.

“Anya Woods’ sister.”

“Wow, you’re Anya’s little sister?”

“Yeah.”

“How is she? I forgot she had a little sister. I remember her little brother died– oh shit.”

“Yeah.”

“We were just heading out,” Gus interrupted.

“I was actually just going to go talk to Clarke.”

“Why would you–”

Before anything else could be said, before anything else could transpire between the two of them, before Gus had to interrupt again, Clarke appeared, launching herself into her girlfriend’s arms, wrapping her own around her neck, her body still slightly damp from the pool she must have just climbed out of during the awkward introduction.

“You’re here. I’m so happy,” Clarke hummed against Lexa’s warm neck. She buried herself there, suffocating herself happily, slightly tipsy.

“I told you I’d stop by.”

Clarke kissed her girlfriend’s neck. She leaned most of her body against her there and giggled, oblivious to the eyes, too drunk to care about anything else happening.

“I am have the worst day. Maybe the worst week. Maybe the worst year ever. No, wait. Definitely the worst year, and today I finally told my mom everything and then left. So Yeah. It’s been terrible. I got drunk.”

“Not the healthiest coping mechanism.”

“Not a bit,” Clarke grinned, agreeing eagerly and with a wide grin. She leaned forward and kissed her girlfriend despite her words.

“You can be healthy tomorrow,” Lexa offered. “You okay?”

“As okay as can be.”

There was some throat clearing that happened behind them, and Lexa felt a burning in her ears and chest at the display, unaccustomed to it all.

“So this is your new girlfriend?” Bellamy asked, looking at the pair.

“Lex, I suppose you’ve met my ex,” Clarke gestured.

“Kind of.”

“Is this party a little much?”

“If I remember correctly, this was exactly the kind of thing you liked. We went to many a party in our tenure,” Bellamy shrugged, lazily leaning against a counter. “Things changed since I left, I guess.”

“I enjoyed not thinking,” Clarke offered. “You were great for that.”

Gus and Lexa looked between the two and then at each other. She was almost certain she didn’t know what was happening, but that certainly, something was, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about it.

“You moved on quick, huh?”

“Hey, step back,” Gus interrupted as Bellamy took a single step. “This is Anya’s sister.”

“Woods?” he furrowed. “You’re dating Anya Woods’ kid sister?”

“Yup,” Clarke nodded.

“I heard she was–”

“Standing right here,” Gus finished.

Lexa felt Clarke’s hand move into her own and she smiled despite the fact that she was picking up a drunk girl at her college guy ex’s party. There was a lot in that sentence she wasn’t happy about, now that she thought about it.

“You ready to get out of here?” Lexa asked innocently, ignoring the rest.

“I think we still have a few more shots lined up, Clarke,” Bellamy smiled and Lexa understood the need to punch.

Noticeably torn, she looked at her girlfriend and back at her ex before realizing that she was actually drunk, and that wasn’t good. Lexa smiled softly and rubbed her girlfriend’s back. She kind of imagined how it must have felt to implode and take her mother down with her. Lexa remembered the feeling of telling her father she was gay and sad. Clarke’s implosion didn’t seem as successful as her own, and Lexa was more than happy to try to help in whatever way she could.

“Can I stay at your place tonight?”

“Yeah,” Lexa nodded quickly. “I’ll text my mom to let her know.”

“You’re seriously leaving?” The college football player and terrible ex scoffed. “The night is still young. It’s barely after eleven.”

“Thanks for getting me drunk, but I should probably go do something better.”

“Thanks for showing me around,” Lexa offered nodding her head slightly toward the host before he could argue. “Have a good night. I’ll see you on Monday, Gus.”

“Get home safe,” the linebacker warned.

Slightly dumbfounded, Bellamy Blake stood there, hands on his hips as he watched his ex weave through the crowd of people and disappear. As much s everything stayed the same, he couldn’t shake the sinking feeling of change, and how averse he was to it.

XXXXXXXXXX

“Here, you can, uh,” Lexa quickly moved through her bedroom, leaving her girlfriend standing by the bed. “I have some old sweats if you want.”

Already, Clarke began taking off her pants, and Lexa quickly looked in the drawers of her dresser. She felt the tips of her ears burn slightly as she looked over her shoulder, her girlfriend slumping into the bed, pants lost to the floor.

“I knew I shouldn’t have gone to that party. I knew it,” Clarke sighed, rubbing her face with both hands to ride herself of the spinning. “But I didn’t care. I just wanted to… you know…”

“You had it out with your mom. You just anted to go far away. I get it.”

“Don’t be nice to me. I knew better than to go, especially to anything involving Bellamy Blake.”

“Why?”

“He doesn’t care about any of it. Just has drinks. I should have called you or like done something else.”

“You’re allowed to want to take a night off from a giant secret after a huge fight. And you don’t need my permission,” Lexa reminded her girlfriend, offering an old shirt.

“It was stupid.”

“Do you feel better?”

Gingerly, Lexa tugged at Clarke’s shirt, pulling it over her head until she flopped back down on the bed, her hair fanning out against the pillow. Agitated at herself, at her clothe, at the unfathomable uncontrollability to the entirety of her life, Clarke growled to herself as she tugged off her bra, tossing it to the side and gracelessly pulling on the shirt Lexa offered.

“I don’t feel better at all.”

It was certainly a pout, and Lexa did her best to ignore it. Instead, she slicked off the light beside the bed, and slid between the sheets next to Clarke. Lexa laid there until Clarke turned to face her, until she placed her hand on her neck and cheek.

“I’m sorry you had to pick me up.”

“It’s okay,” Lexa whispered.

“It’s not. I’m not like this… I don’t mean to be… I mean–”

“It’s okay.”

Clarke leaned forward, shifting beneath the blankets until their knees were touching. She moved to only push the hair from Lexa’s forehead and she paused before kissing her lips. She tasted the warmth of the tequila there and she didn’t care. Lexa signed.

“Please don’t give up on me anytime soon,” Clarke murmured. Stunned from the kiss, Lexa blinked in the dark and shifted closer.

“I wouldn’t ever.”

“I know you wouldn’t. I just had to say it out loud.”

“Okay.”

Lexa was certain she was going to get another kiss, but instead, Clarke dug her forehead under her girlfriend’s chin and pressed their bodies together, hugging her tightly and disappearing, being overwhelmed, anchoring herself to a steady force. Lexa rubbed Clarke’s back for a few moments until she fell asleep, and then she allowed herself the option of sleep.

Chapter Text

It hadn’t been a particularly good sleep. Lexa felt like she woke up every hour or so, each time checking to make sure the softly snoring girl beside her was still there, still asleep. Despite her own tossing and turning, Clarke didn’t seem to move much, just curled up tightly into herself, against Lexa’s side. Lexa kind of liked the feeling of the other body in her bed. She kind of liked that she was the person Clarke wanted.

Sometime after the tenth to twelfth time she woke up, Lexa realized the sun was up, and she couldn’t fight with her body waking any longer. Clarke didn’t move, and the night weighed on her girlfriend.

With a certain effort, Lexa decided to extract herself from the bed, even though Clarke didn’t seem to notice. It actually appeared as if Clarke was a very sound sleeper, as Lexa moved around the room and bumped the edge of her elbow on her desk and hissed at the contact. But as she stood still, she realized Clarke didn’t budge a bit.

Lexa scrolled through her phone as she tugged on some fresh clothes, checking over her shoulder quickly to make sure Clarke wasn’t peaking for some weird reason. She didn’t want Clarke to know how curious she was about the party before she arrived, but a part of her was incredibly interested in what might have panned out.

Like a thief, Lexa tugged on socks and buttoned her pants as she danced through the door in her attempt to remain as quiet as humanly possible. It took her a minute to close to door, watching it slowly inch toward the clasp, and finally it clicked nearly silent. She pushed her hair out of her face and slid into the bathroom, shoving a toothbrush into her mouth as she leaned against the counter and scrolled through the feed of Bellamy Blake’s infamous party.

As she scrubbed she watched the night happen in glimpses. She watched her girlfriend taking shots. She watched her girlfriend in that bikini. She watched her girlfriend look like she was desperately chasing an escape and numbness and it made Lexa mad for her. Lexa spit and rinsed and brushed and decided it was a good idea to scroll through Bellamy’s posts and she couldn’t understand how Clarke could like such different people. Bellamy Blake held week long parties and won state championships and got scouted. Lexa made movies and played board games and couldn’t figure out how to take a bra off.

With a final rinse she called her sister, hoping the time difference would mean she was awake, but as she bounded down the steps, she was met with a voicemail and furrowed. She needed research and information. Anya knew about all of this.

“You’re up early for someone having a sleepover with their girlfriend,” her mother greeted her as she looked up from the newspaper spread out across the kitchen island. Her father looked up over the edge of the sports section before looking back down.

“I told you we didn’t have to worry,” he muttered, flapping the paper out. Lexa rolled her eyes and took a seat.

“It wasn’t a sleepover.”

“Your girlfriend spent the night in your bed. I’d call it a sleepover, and I’d say we’re pretty cold parents for allowing it.”

“I appreciate it, but nothing was going to happen.”

“Good, because we discussed how alcohol can alter perception and consent–”

“Yes, yes,” Lexa sighed and reached for an apple as her father droned on yet again, hoping to avoid another sex talk. “I know, Dad.”

They all remained in a respective silence while working past the moment. It was weird, to want to talk to someone, let alone to have anything to talk about, but Lexa felt this need to figure something out, though she wasn’t sure what it would be. She wished her sister had just picked up the phone.

“So is Clarke…”

“Still asleep.”

“Did you have fun at the party?”

“I wasn’t there long,” Lexa shrugged. “I was at Luna’s working on our submission until late. Gus was there, so I knew people.”

She didn’t mention Michelle from math and her bikini. That felt inappropriate.

“How’s Clarke doing?” her mother pressed, sipping from her coffee again, warily watching her daughter.

“She’s… I don’t know. Sad. Mad. Stuck. Overwhelmed.”

“It was nice that you went to get her. I appreciate you telling us what’s going on instead of trying to sneak around. Anya did that. I can’t tell you how many times I had to pretend not to notice boys sneaking around the yard.”

“Really?”

“We trust you both,” her father explained. “We just appreciate you doing making us have to stretch it so far.”

“And we like Clarke, so we’re happy to help.”

“I don’t really know what else to do, you know?” she muttered, wiping her mouth and leaning against the counter, her knee coming up on the stool. “I think I’d be a little upset too if I were in her shoes, so I would want to probably do a bunch of stuff, but also I don’t want her to be upset.”

Lexa’s father looked at her and then to his wife. She cocked her head and gave him a look, to which he returned a shrug and ushered her to do something. They were stuck as well because no parenting book prepared them for teenagers. And Anya was very different.

“You can’t do anything,” he finally offered.

“Tim!” his wife warned.

“It’s true. You can’t make this better. It’s between Clarke and her mother and her father. But you can be there for her, and try to encourage her to be healthy about grief and pain. You have some experience, I’d say.”

Lexa looked back at him and clenched her lips, worrying the bottom one as she mulled over his words.

“And as much as we love what you want to do and be for Clarke, please don’t forget who you are in all of this. You have needs nad you have goals. Someone else’s wellness is not entirely on your shoulders.”

“I know.”

“But just be around. That’s all anyone can do. Be of service to others.”

“Your father’s right though,” her mother continued. “You can’t fix it, just be there. It’s a boring answer.”

“If Dad were dying would you have an affair?”

“Jesus, Lexa.”

“What?”

“I’d haunt you,” Tim decided before turning back to his paper. “I’d haunt you really hard.”

“I’m done with both of you today,” she decided, tossing her part of the paper in his lap as she walked through the living room. “It’s not even eight and I’m retreating to my office. I hope you’re both proud.”

The pair shared a smile and shrugged as she disappeared down the hall.

“You know, just because we gave you one sleepover, I hope you don’t get too comfortable asking. This was an emergency. It’s always okay in an emergency, and you know the difference.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“I have golf in a bit, but this afternoon we could do some driving practice if you wanted?”

“Sounds good,” Lexa smiled.

For no reason at all, except maybe utter relief that she didn’t have to deal with the same problems Clarke did, she hugged her dad’s neck lazily over the back of the couch before making her way back upstairs.

XXXXXXXXXX

The vague memories of the night lingered like the stale taste of terrible vodka and beer, and Clarke smacked her lips, hoping to find any kind of liquid to get rid of the dry mouth. But her eyes felt heavy and glued shut, and her stomach felt like it was currently on the spin cycle, so moving wasn’t entirely feasible.

It had been dumb. It’d been stupid, even. Possibly as far as moronic, to go to Bellamy’s party, but it was the best alternative and boy did it feel nice to escape. Even the current state she found herself in was a welcomed punishment from feeling fine and being unable to exist in the world. Her current physical ailments felt like finally, the universe was manifesting itself, and she could fix the swirling stomach and cottonmouth. She could fix the spinning and soreness and bruises from God-knew what happened last night.

There wasn’t much else to be done, she suspected. Fix this moment, this hour, this day, and hope to survive to another one. It all had to end at some point.

Clarke finally managed to open her eyes, a feat she was certain no other human could have accomplished. She looked around Lexa’s room and gratefully accepted the water bottle and aspirin waiting beside the bed.

It took until halfway chugged, that she realized she was empty and the room was quiet. So she took a breath and held her stomach, certain she could hold it down. Carefully, she dressed, stealing Lexa’s old track sweats and an older soccer shirt, before making her way down the hall in search of something to fill her stomach.

“Someone else’s wellness is not entirely on your shoulders.”

“I know.”

Clarke paused at the top of the stairs when she heard the family talking. It felt like it was about her. She knew it had to be. It made her want to vomit.

“But just be around. That’s all anyone can do. Be of service to others.”

“Your father’s right though. You can’t fix it, just be there. It’s a boring answer.”

It was hard to be the subject of needing things. Clarke wasn’t someone who needed anyone. She wasn’t someone who wanted or needed to depend on anyone, and yet there was a girl, a girl who was too afraid to make a move, who imagined the world in terms of movie scenes and interpreted her own existence in the great world as a cosmic joke, always waiting for the punchline– and this girl wanted to fix things.

“If Dad were dying would you have an affair?”

“Jesus, Lexa.”

“What?”

It hadn’t been a joke, but it made Clarke smile. No one expected that Lexa was serious, and she wanted to know the answer. There was shuffling and moving, and Clarke crept her way back to Lexa’s room.

She felt even dumber than she thought possible for going to see Bellamy. She wouldn’t do it again. She wouldn’t. She wouldn’t. She wouldn’t. The words echoed in her head. She meant it, she was certain. She wouldn’t.

“You’re awake,” Lexa grinned as she quietly closed the door behind her only to find her girlfriend sitting in her bed.

“I’m never drinking again.”

“Mhm, we’ll see.”

“Don’t be mean to me, I’m sick.”

“You’re hungover.”

“You don’t know what it feels like, do you?” Clarke accused, accepting the orange and another bottle of water that was handed to her as her girlfriend joined her in bed.

“Don’t see much appeal.”

“It always seems like a good idea at the time…”

Lexa just shrugged and crossed her legs. She ran her thumb along the faded script on the side of Clarke’s knee.

“I should head home,” she decided softly. “Sleep this off and such.”

“You could sleep here. I’m just going to work on the car a bit. Maybe go for a run. I have homework to finish.”

“I have to go home at some point.”

“Maybe.”

“It was very sweet of you to come get me.”

“I’m just glad you texted.”

“I’m not going to be like this, you know?”

“You can be however you want.”

It was a sweet sentiment that Clarke didn’t have the mental capacity to sit with, she decided, because she wasn’t ready to decide to be anything. But tomorrow, maybe, she’d think about it. She knew what she didn’t want to be, and that seemed like something, at least.

“I texted Raven to come get me.”

“If you’re sure.”

“I needed last night to cleanse myself, I think. I need today to regroup.”

“You have a very weird process,” Lexa decided.

Clarke just chuckled and leaned forward, burying her face in Lexa’s thigh and sighing.

XXXXXXXXXX

For the moment, the very tiny, very quick moment, everything felt like it was caught up, and Lexa allowed herself a few moments of quiet in the garage, because come hell or high water, she was going to finish the car by the last day of school. SATs were done, finally, and something that didn’t need to be explicitly worried about until scores were released in a few weeks. Her prom outfit was already purchased and prepared. Homework and studying were done. Sports were over for the season and conditioning wasn’t set to start for another two months, though she’d start her own soon enough. Her girlfriend was at work and then going off to a cheer competition for the weekend. Luna was putting the finishing touches on their film school application project. And anyone else that might ask Lexa to do anything was promptly ignored.

Two weeks before spring break, and Lexa was feeling high on her on efficiency.

All in all, Lexa decided that she had at least three days to power through as much as she could with her dad in a final push before sending it off to the paint appointment.

She hadn’t counted on her sister though, and as her phone blared, interrupting the music playing over the speakers, she smacked her head on the body of the car and slid herself from under it, grumbling the entire time.

“Don’t you have fancy plans. It’s a Friday night,” she chided the eldest.

“I’m getting ready, I was just thinking about you.”

“Gross.”

“Because I ran into a girl that asked about you and I had no idea you had a friend at CMU, let alone a drop dead gorgeous film student.”

Lexa furrowed and twirled her wrench around before trying to dive back in under the seat and finish installing the seatbelts in the back. It dawned on her then and she snorted.

“That’s just Costia.”

“Ohhh, just Costia– who the fuck is Costia?”

“I met her when I came to visit last fall remember? You were the one telling me to make a move but I was very drunk, something you did to me as well?”

“Doesn’t ring a bell.”

“At the party. I posted a picture…” she grunted and twisted. “She found me on Instagram. We talk about movies and I’ve shown her some of my stuff and junk.”

“Interesting.”

“Why?”

“Just not many freshman looking to hang out with high school juniors.”

“I’m clearly advanced.”

“Clearly,” Anya rolled her eyes over the phone.

“I’ve been talking to her about film programs and applying–”

“Here? You’re thinking about coming here?”

“Fuck!” she hissed and sat up, doing her best to suck on the cut that came to her thumb from her maneuvering. “I don’t know.”

It wasn’t a serious inquiry, Lexa thought to herself. She was set. She had a plan with Luna. They’d had it since they were ten, and there was really on reason to deviate from it. But then a stranger liked her stuff, and this stranger made stuff Lexa liked. And the stranger became a friend who gave her some screenwriting tips and pushed her to get better at it. And the stranger told her the east coast was just as important to film.

But it didn’t matter.

There was a plan.

“You should seriously consider it. It’s a great program I hear. Come out for spring break!”

“I should stay here.”

“And do what? Work on that car? Dad already told me he’s sending it out for interior and paint. You’re pretty much done anyway.”

“Mom and Dad have conferences that week. I was going to watch movies all week with Clarke.”

“Bring her too. Sounds like she needs an escape.” Anya was getting excited, and Lexa was tugged along for the ride. “You can crash in my dorm. Even just for a few days, not the whole week.”

“Mom won’t like me missing so much time to study.”

“Call it a college visit for a potential school.”

“Luna will lose her mind,” Lexa shook her head and pinched her thumb to try to stop it without a bandaid.

“Fuck Luna. I’m going to ask Mom if she’d rather you were here, supervised by me, or home alone for a whole week.”

From the change in volume, Lexa knew she was texting immediately. She sighed. It would be fun to see the school as a potential option. It might even be nice to catch up with Costia. It would even be better to see her sister, who just at the moment, she realized she’d missed since her last visit.

“Should I ask Clarke if she wants to go?” Lexa finally ventured, returning to her work.

“Definitely.”

“Should I really consider your school as an option?”

“You should.”

She had a plan, Lexa remembered, and there was no point deviating, but she did want to see her sister.

“If they say it’s okay.”

Chapter Text

It wasn’t that Clarke never thought she would visit Pittsburgh, just that she never thought to even think about it at all as an option. What was there for her in a city that refused to be mid-western and was rejected by the northeast? Why would she ever be drawn to the intersection of rivers carving between ancient mountains that almost didn’t deserve to be called anything more than very big hills? So what if it had more bridges than Venice, as Lexa had quickly informed her on the flight when she woke from her nap. So what if it was where Michael Keaton was from– he wasn’t even her favorite Batman.

But as the car reached the end of a rather unremarkable tunnel, and Clarke quietly listened to Lexa catch up with her sister in their weird little language, the city suddenly appeared, with its bright blue sky and brighter yellow bridge, and she almost fell in love. It was easy to fall in love with something that felt like a postcard. It dawned on her then, that she hadn’t ever considered the city, and perhaps she didn’t mind Michael Keaton that much.

There were boats on the rivers, despite the fact that it was still in the 60s. Wakes criss-crossed the wide mouths and all met at a point. She watched the buildings when they merged toward the south, sliding across the car to see the art-deco facades and sleek new builds. It was steel and color and shimmering, and Clarke finally, for the first time in ages, felt as if she new and unstuck and as if she could breathe. It wasn’t because of the tunnel or the rivers or the hillside looking down on them from across it, but rather a change of scenery and finally succeeding at the incredibly difficult task of locking away what was happening at home, and feeling like herself.

It didn’t hurt that this was a new kind of Lexa, and Clarke wondered if she felt it too, the escape, the freedom. She had to have, or else she wouldn’t have held her hand as they walked around the campus, or she wouldn’t have such playfully picked Clarke up and gave her a piggy back across the green. This was the Lexa, Clarke realized, that she’d been falling for the whole time, when bits of it would appear, unburdened and alive. It was there, sipping lemonade in the park by campus that she realized how burdened maybe they both were, and it was a matter of time before they could escape, hopefully.

“You look like you belong here, you know?” Lexa grinned as a large group relaxed after a day of games and picnics and drinking at the park.

“At the park?”

Lazily, Clarke dangled her legs over her girlfriend’s lap and played with the curly baby hair at the nape of her neck. Her skin had the salt of dried sweat from running around and playing, the smell baked into her skin. The sun was gone, but the orange glow of streetlights betrayed gaggles of youths going about their various nightly activities.

Clarke was happy to be among them.

“At college.”

“Well, mother, I do plan on going, despite what my own might think,” she teased.

Just as lazy and perhaps tired from the exploits in the sun, Lexa closed her eyes and rocked her head to the feeling of Clarke’s gentle ministrations on her neck. She smiled, dopey and content.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go on the hike with us tomorrow?”

“I have a few things I want to check out here,” Clarke promised. “Maybe actually do some college touring.”

“I’m doing it before we leave,” Lexa promised. “Just don’t tell Luna.”

“Because we talk so much.” Lexa sighed and Clarke shrugged defiantly, earning a rolled eye. “Don’t feel guilty. You have to decide for yourself.”

“Not even for you?”

“Especially not for me. I’m not worth having if I don’t support you entirely.”

Lexa paused and cocked her head slightly, furrowing at the thought. It wasn’t something Clarke thought about too much, despite the ever-looming threat of college applications and testing and the like. She didn’t have to.

“I learned very early on that I had to block out what everyone else wanted from me, and focus on what would make me happy. Dad would want me to go to MIT, Mom wants me to be a doctor. I’m sure your family have high expectations of you… Why would I add any stress to you?”

“I dunno,” she shrugged. “I just… don’t really want to stop getting to know you.”

Clarke smiled.

“I’m not worried.”

“I don’t want to disappoint anyone.”

“You won’t.”

It was an honest moment, and Clarke realized she was more prone to having them when Lexa was around, and it felt new and good to be authentic when so much of her time she felt like she was pretending.

“Hey!” Anya interrupted the pair sitting on the lawn. They were entirely too happy and wrapped up in themselves to really notice much else. “We’re going to get ready for some food. Let’s go.”

Clarke kissed Lexa’s neck and hugged her tightly before attempting to stand. Quickly, Lexa scooped her up, tossing her over her shoulder.

Nothing else really mattered. They were just happy to be away and to see what the possibility of a life outside of their current reality could look like. It’d never been so tangible or real or craved, but they followed the gaggle toward the dorms again, Clarke finally let on her feet to walk beside her girlfriend, and they linked hands and smiled.

XXXXX

The campus was beautiful– a mix of modern and ancient, with ivy and brick combining with metal and glass, with rooms filled with state of the art robotics and professors lecturing about the classics in the others. It was a live and busy, perfectly in the middle of spring semester, so it was easy to feel lost and simultaneously wrapped up in it, as if she belonged and was waiting for class to start.

Clarke made her way to the research labs, anxious to arrive on time for the first time in a long time. Lexa instilled punctuality into her and she smiled at the thought. But she hadn’t even told her girlfriend of her actual desire to go to school, or that she wanted to go for research, or that she wanted to do something as foolish as cure a disease.

What felt like a silly ambition though, was almost encouraged and solidified by the sheer determination and life that Lexa breathed into Clarke, it felt like. Sure, Lexa was insanely rigid and very organized– a planner, and proud of it. But, she was inherently a dreamer, and the dialectical difference between the two that existed at one time created a really engaging and eager person who was slightly contagious with both aspects.

Things were different now.

That’s what Clarke kept feeling. She could see what she could have and she wanted it, more importantly. So she was being keen, as Lexa called it. She was chasing something. That was why she was sitting outside of the TA’s office for her appointment and a tour. That was why she was going to sit in on a class. That was why she was introducing herself to professors.

For the entire day, Clarke found herself mesmerized and invigorated, eager to get home and study, to get home and hurry up and apply to schools. She hated to admit it and would never tell her mother such a thing, but maybe her dad, on a good day.

“What makes you interested in coming here?” the young professor asked as they walked down a hall, arm full of books.

Clarke liked her because she had glasses like Lexa and didn’t dismiss her.

“I want to cure MS.”

“That’s a very noble reason.”

“It’s selfish, but it’s the genuine truth.”

The professor chuckled and nodded.

“Well, someone has to, right?”

“Exactly.”

The day flew by, so much so, that Clarke found herself running across campus to meet up with the returning hikers.

Face-down in her sister’s bed, Lexa groaned in soreness, already exhausted from their exploits, further reminding Clarke why she passed.

Clarke tossed her bag on the floor and flopped down atop her girlfriend, earning a groan and then a relaxing body beneath her. She inhaled the dirt and sweat that lived on Lexa’s neck after traipsing through the Allegheny’s.

“How was your day?” Lexa mumbled, turning her head only when suffocation was an actual threat from the pillow she’d buried her nose into.

“Oh, alright,” Clarke shrugged. “Just hung around.”

“Sorry it was boring. You could have come.”

“It was nice and relaxing.”

“Good.”

“You should go shower. I’m hungry.”

“I’m starving, too. I wish you could just bathe me.”

“Oh, me too, babe,” Clarke chuckled and kissed spine.

Lexa shoved her head into the pillow and groaned again.

Maybe she’d tell her tomorrow, Clarke decided. But unlike Lexa, she wasn’t accustomed to dreaming out loud and fully believed in the jinx of it. Maybe when she submitted an application, she argued with herself.

Maybe never.

XXXXX

To say that it’d been a busy visit would be an understatement. Only there for a few days, they were prepared to make the most of it, but didn’t quite understand what it would look like until they were in the thick of it. There was too much to do and see, and Anya was dead set on giving them the most authentic experience she could. Which would explain how they ended up at an off-campus house party late on Thursday night. It would also explain why they were dressed up in sheets wrapped around them like togas. It would also explain why Clarke felt extra attracted to the Greek god she maintained she was dating, though Lexa would never admit it.

It was definitely the drinks. It was definitely all of the alcohol she was taking in and not at all the way the sheet fell high on Lexa’s thigh, or the fact that she had a huge bruise there from track practice, or the fact that she was starting to get that little muscle near her neck and down her back and that was on display, kissed and tanned in the sun from the week. It was definitely the alcohol that made Clarke drool.

“Last time I was here, at a party like this, you messaged me that you missed seeing me at a party,” Lexa remembered, whispering close and loud against her girlfriend’s ear.

It was definitely the drinks. It was definitely all of the alcohol and not at all the way Clarke’s cleavage was on display, or how tight the sheet was tucked around her hips. It certainly wasn’t that Lexa could almost imagine her naked and that she enjoyed the look of Clarke in a sheet. It was strictly the alcohol and not the flood of hormones Lexa suddenly felt herself struggling with controlling.

“I did,” Clarke shrugged.

Lexa pressed herself against Clarke’s back, wrapping her arms around her shoulders and resting her chin near her neck as her girlfriend took another sip. They moved to the music that thumped. They weren’t cramped but there wasn’t much room, and so they decided to entwine, to make themselves smaller. Neither minded.

“I couldn’t believe it.”

“I thought you were cute and I wanted to get to know you.”

“I haven’t been too boring for you?”

“You’re far from boring,” Clarke disagreed.

Lips moved to her neck and her jaw and she swayed a little more. Lexa wasn’t a dancer, except when Clarke made her. It seemed the red solo cup was helping her this time, and Clarke didn’t mind it that much.

“You’re very exciting. To me.”

“You’re feeling pretty good, huh?”

“I haven’t had that much to drink. It’s not even a lot of alcohol. It tastes like fruit punch.”

Clarke shook her head again and chuckled.

“That’s what makes it dangerous. You’re definitely drunk.”

“Dammit,” she groaned. “Anya always does this to me. Maybe I can’t go to school here. I wouldn’t survive her.”

When the song changed, Clarke felt it beneath her skin and she tossed her cup and turned around to dance with the lanky girl who was hotter than she knew. It was dangerous that Lexa knew how to move her hips as much as she did, and Clarke felt the heat rise up her neck and into her ears. Hands held onto her hips and Lexa frequently caught her eye.

Somewhere in the party, her sister was mingling, and they’d been left to their own devices. It seemed like a fitting way to spend an evening.

When the songs dropped off slightly, Lexa pulled Clarke to a couch and sat there, sweating slightly and trying to catch her breath. Clarke slid into her lap and sipped another drink.

“I kind of wish we were home,” Clarke smirked over the rim of her drink.

“Why?”

“I’d at least know somewhere I could pull you into.”

“Why?” Lexa took another sip and waited. Clarke just leaned forward and whispered in her ear until her eyes grew wider. “Oh! I’m… um. Yes. That’d be. You’d… we could? Wow.”

“Just a little.”

“Anya is here at the party and that means her dorm is empty right now.”

Clarke grinned and gave Lexa a look. She was definitely buzzed and on her way to drunk and she hadn’t ever wanted to push too far, especially while intoxicated. But Lexa had those eyes and lips and the hand on her hip. There was only the smallest bit of sobriety holding her back from temptation, while at the same time, the alcohol made Lexa tempt her more than ever– fingers skated up her thigh and hot lips roamed across her neck and shoulder between dancing and talking.

“And miss out on the rest of this party?” Clarke teased.

“I only really like hanging out with you anyway.”

No one had ever really been that sweet and earnest to her, and so Clarke took it, and kissed her girlfriend just to the edge of polite.

“But you’re starting to like going to parties, aren’t you?”

“I don’t mind them as much. Except Bellamy’s. I don’t particularly enjoy him.”

“Why’s that?”

“He’s seen you naked.”

She couldn’t help it, but Clarke laughed out loud, earning a furrow from her girlfriend who wasn’t even particularly good at being jealous.

“So? Raven and Octavia and pretty much the entire softball team has as well.”

“It’s different. He’s a jerk.”

“Well, you’re not wrong there.”

“I’d like–”

“Lexa?”

The voice interrupted over the music and between their words. Despite being pressed together on the couch in the corner, the name still appeared and distracted them from the rather riveting conversation.

“I didn’t think you’d make it,” Lexa grinned, her smile widening as Clarke watched her attention shift. “It’s good to see you!”

In a second, Clarke was slipping out of the lap she’d grown accustomed to planting herself rather comfortably. In another few seconds she was watching her girlfriend hug a very hot, very smiley girl with short light purple hair and a septum piercing and eyebrows that made her envious of how perfectly sculpted they were.

The pair kept their arms locked and exchanged pleasantries as if they were old friends, which seemed very weird to Clarke considering Lexa had only visited a few times, and her sister had only been there a year. But she stood there and watched the excitement grow on Lexa’s face as the newest addition held her hips and checked out her toga.

Lexa may not have been good at being jealous, but Clarke certainly was an all-star.

“Clarke, this is Costia– the girl I met last time I was here. She’s the film major I was telling you about!”

“Oh right!” Clarke nodded and put on her smile. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“And I’ve heard as much about you, I’m sure,” Costia chuckled. “The first time I met Lexa I tried to flirt with her and she nearly had an aneurism.”

Clarke felt her face falter. She always thought she was the only person who did that to Lexa. It was a point of pride to be wanted so badly.

“But,” Costia interrupted the thoughts, “She mentioned a girl out of her league back home. I knew I had no chance.”

Even her laugh was melodic. Clarke felt the sting of envy and jealousy all at once, added to only by Costia’s attempts to put her at ease in such a charming way. So she took another sip of her drink.

“Lexa’s a natural storyteller.”

“Cos and I have been working on some screenwriting stuff.”

“Should I tell Luna?” she teased, earning a roll of Lexa’s eyes before she felt long arms go back around her shoulders. Clarke melted.

When she mentioned Luna’s name, Clarke thought for a second, how Lexa could have so many girls practically fawning over her, and yet be ambivalent and completely blind to it all was beyond her. It seemed to be astronomically improbable, and yet here she was, talking to a wanna be girlfriend who was taking time away from her childhood girlfriend.

“Only if you would like me to be murdered.”

“Can’t have that, can we?”

“I was just about to head out. There’s a screening of Slap Shot down by the arena.”

“Oh seriously? That sounds…” Lexa trailed off, her excitement remember what she was just about to do with her girlfriend. “We were just about to head out too.”

“You can totally come if you want.”

“I don’t know if we’re dressed for a movie,” Clarke looked down at their attire, noticing Lexa’s despondency. “But if no one will mind.”

“Really?” Lexa murmured.

“Of course,” Clarke put on a smile.

“Awesome! Follow me then,” Costia offered.

Lexa held her girlfriend’s hand and squeezed it as they moved through the crowd. Clarke smiled happily to herself solely for the fact that she was being a bigger person, and not explicitly looking to learn more about the hot college girl who was friends with her girlfriend. She wondered how Lexa wasn’t more jealous about Bellemy because she was downright annoyed by the girl who hadn’t even seen her naked.

But it didn’t matter, she told herself. Lexa was too good and would laugh her out of any jealousy.

But she wasn’t going to risk it.

XXXXXXXX

“You’re a little drunk,” Clarke whispered.

“Mmmm,” Lexa hummed and nodded.

That didn’t stop her hands as they moved under an old shirt toward ribs, and it didn’t stop her lips as they moved along skin and shoulders. Clarke felt her eyes flutter at the fortitude of the stumbling girl beneath her. Drunk-Lexa was fully capable of doing the things Clarke let herself imagine at night before bed. Drunk-Lexa was confident enough to try these things with little to no prodding. Drunk-Lexa bit. Drunk-Lexa growled and had a voice that deepened. Drunk-Lexa did the things that Clarke wondered were possible.

“I’m a little drunk,” Clarke whispered.

That didn’t stop her hands as they gripped strong shoulders and it certainly didn’t stop her thigh from shifting upward and grinding.

“Mmhmm.”

“Your sister is passed out ten feet away.”

“Shh,” Lexa insisted.

“We shouldn’t.”

The movements stopped and Lexa remained still.

“I know,” she mumbled, her body losing the fervency it developed over the past few minutes of cuddling gone awry.

“I like this though,” Clarke promised, cursing her own morals.

“Me too,” Lexa nodded eagerly, shifting her hips and earning a gulp.

“It was a good night. We can have more good nights.”

“Promise?”

In the dark, Clarke felt Lexa’s face tilt back toward her, hovering near her own, as if looking into her eyes for the truth. She ran her hand along her neck and over her chest and nodded, despite Lexa being unable to see it.

“Many more.”

“Good.”

Chapter Text

“Do we just hide upstairs?”

“We could go out.”

“Like on a date?”

“I know it sounds appalling, but I’ll be on my best behaviour.”

“And leave a gaggle of hormonal teenagers here?”

“To watch a movie.”

“I thought we’d have to worry about this with Anya, not Lexa,” the mother sighed and toyed with a pen, tapping it against the notebook in her lap. From the other end of the couch, her husband turned a page in the newspaper and went about this day, her feet firmly in his lap, his arms resting on her shins.

Outside, the backyard was becoming its own theater, complete with screen and various seating arrangements. The fire pit had been dug out from a shed and filled with wood, ready to warm the spring evening. Beth could not remember a time when so many kids were going to be over her house, and all of a sudden, the same kids who came by for an eighth birthday were tall, gawky teenagers. Somehow, she missed it all and wanted it back, but realized she was stuck, and was ready to be apart of whatever was happening, even if she occasionally missed the quiet days of not having to worry so extensively about Lexa.

Clarke, Lexa, and Luna continued to move about the yard when she snuck a look through the window, tilting her body to get eyes on. While Luna worked on the computer, Lexa leaned on Clarke’s shoulders, her chin near her neck. She looked happy and carefree, while her girlfriend smiled, only moving and ruining the moment when Lexa tickled her side. The burst of laughter led to Lexa draping herself over the blonde and it reminded Beth that she might not get to see Aden, she still had so much joy around her that she just had to pay attention to.

“I guess it would be irresponsible to leave them unsupervised completely,” Lexa’s father decided, adjusting his glasses as he put down the paper. “What if we went out for dinner and then came back, but not too late.”

“Trick them. Give them some freedom but not enough to do any real damage with.”

“Exactly. Plus, it’s Lexa,” he shrugged. “Girl couldn’t unhook a bra with an instruction manual and flashlight.”

“And she can’t get pregnant from Clarke.”

“And she’s excited about her movie. You’ve seen her watch one. She’s immoveable. Even with those teenage hormones, I don’t even think a girl sitting beside her completely naked would distract her from the screen.”

“A date might be nice,” she wagered.

Tim saw the crack forming and rubbed his wife’s feet, making her melt to his whims.

“There’s that sushi place I’ve been wanting to try. I could pry you with a nice bottle of sake and we could come back and supervise these nerds.”

“God that feels nice and sounds amazing.”

“Let me take you out, Bethy,” he grinned and she was convinced. “I’ll make it worth your while. I’ve been known to put out after a date.”

“As if I needed a date to get you to put out,” she scoffed.

“I’m a classy man. I need to be wined and dined from time to time or I won’t feel very pretty anymore.”

“But you’re such a handsome fellow.”

“I don’t know about that,” he pretended to be disinterested until the body half atop him pulled away and his wife sat beside him.

She leaned forward and kissed his cheek before putting her arms around him.

“You know, I find you to be a very pretty guy. I’m sorry if I haven’t made you feel that way recently. I frequently check you out.”

“Really?”

“Mhm,” she hummed against his neck. “And when I see you with Lexa and how much time you’ve been spending with her and how much you’ve helped me grow, it just fills my heart completely.”

“She’s fun to hang out with.”

“You’re a great dad and an amazing husband. Can I take you out for sushi? Will you wear something sexy for me?”

“I did get some new khakis.”

“Say no more.”

They both chuckled at their little play and relaxed together on the couch, inhaling the moment, and separately remembering to savor it because they’d been through hard, and they knew this would sustain them if it ever came back around.

“You should leave some room for the Lord,” Lexa complained as the gaggle of teens walked into the house.

“Stop. They’re adorable. You’re adorable, Mr. and Mrs. Woods,” Clarke insisted, nudging her girlfriend who just rolled her eyes and smiled despite herself.

“Thank you, Clarke,” Mrs. Woods nodded, giving her daughter a face. “We were just setting up a date night. You two have really reminded us how important it is to go on dates.”

“We do have some good dates,” Clarke nodded as Lexa leaned against her pretending to be bored of the conversation. “What are you going to do for date night?”

“There’s a new sushi place downtown. Dim lighting, expensive drinks. Really romantic stuff,” Mr. Woods explained. “Take notes, daughter.”

“Going to wear those new khakis you’ve been saving?”

“Maybe a sweater to go with it,” he nodded.

“Nice.”

Clarke looked between them and saw so much family resemblance she was curious if she would be dating a clone in fifteen years. She wasn’t against it. The love between Lexa’s parents was easy and palpable. She was against the khakis though.

“We will leave you to your movie,” Mrs. Woods walked around the living room, following her husband toward the bedroom to change. “But we’ll be back soon. And no funny business.”

“Like what?” Luna finally piped up.

“If you have to ask, I’m truly not worried,” the mother called down the hall.

Clarke snorted and Luna shot her a look. Lexa didn’t notice, just let her girlfriend drag her toward the garage in search of more stuff.

XXXXXXXXXX

“I think this is what your mom meant by funny business,” Clarke gulped as hands slid around her waist. Lips moved to her neck and she gripped shoulders. The cold of the wall made her back shiver.

“Don’t tell Luna. Can’t have her figuring out what it is. She’s so pure,” Lexa explained as Clarke tugged on her shirt.

“And you’re so experienced?”

“I’m getting there.”

The light in the bathroom let Clarke finally take the time to appreciate a shirtless girlfriend. The window was cracked and they could hear the murmuring and laughter of their friends outside as the second movie started. She ran her hands over Lexa’s chest and smiled, because she wasn’t wrong. Lexa was growing bolder and it was torture.

“The movie was amazing. You should be proud.”

“I am. Thank you for your help.”

“Anytime.”

Clarke pulled at her girlfriend again, settling her between her legs, squeezing from her seat on the bathroom counter. She moaned slightly at the way Lexa’s back felt under her fingertips, and how her mouth felt on her own. It felt like being lost in a fog or tornado, but not wanting to escape it.

Somehow, she undid Lexa’s pants. Somehow. She couldn’t remember how, just that Lexa’s stomach clenched at the contact and she pulled away slightly.

“Is this–”

“Yes,” Lexa gulped, kissing her again, even more eagerly than before.

Clarke let her hand slip lower until Lexa moaned against her ear and arched slightly. Lexa cupped her cheek and her neck and hitched her breath.

“This is okay?”

“Mmmm,” Lexa nodded, slightly dazed.

Without stopping, Clarke moved her fingers, chasing the little hitches in her girlfriend’s breath, chasing the sloppiness that Lexa now moved against her.

The door echoed as someone pounded on it and Lexa tensed as Clarke froze.

“Hey, uh, I really–” Gus’ voice boomed on the other side.

“For the love of God use the one upstairs,” Lexa called out.

The garage door opened, signaling a return of parents who specifically mentioned that all forms of funny business such as being fingered in the bathroom should be strictly avoided and Lexa groaned as Clarke moved quickly, sliding off of the counter after retrieving her hand. She paused only for a second before buttoning her pants and tugging on her shirt.

Despite the quickness they moved, Clarke caught how puffy Lexa’s lips were and how messy her hair now seemed and looked in the mirror at herself just as quickly, hoping that pulling her hair up would hide some of the evidence.

“Thanks,” Lexa complained as Clarke opened the door and Gus came in.

“Hey, I saw your parents lights in the driveway. You’re welcome for the warning, and you can tell me about it later.”

Clarke was already nearly back outside, giving Lexa an apologetic smile. Her parents appeared a second later after Gus closed the bathroom door, nudging her away.

“Hey kiddo,” her father boasted. “How’d the movie go?”

“Real good,” she nodded, skating toward the door to rejoin the group. “I’ll show you later. You guys are heading upstairs right? We’ll keep it down. Night. Love you!”

The pair stood in the kitchen and watched her escape before looking at each other and shaking their heads.

“I really wanted to see it,” Tim sighed. “Maybe she’ll actually show me tomorrow.”

“I’m sure she will, darling,” his wife promised, patting his shoulder.

The bathroom door opened and a hulking boy walked through sheepishly, the one they recognized from Anya’s tenure in the same high school. Somehow he had gotten bigger.

“Looking good, Woodses,” he gave them a huge smile. “Thanks for having us over.”

“Anytime, honey,” Mrs. Woods called as he escaped.

“That kid was huge,” Tim whispered. “Thank goodness he’s Lexa’s friend.”

“No wonder she made us buy extra snacks.”

XXXXXXXXXX

It was too early to get out of bed, even for a hike, but Lexa found herself unable to sleep any longer than she already had. Instead, she just laid in her bed and stared at the ceiling, with the sliver of light cutting across it from the lamp outside.

Her head raced. It always seemed to race. Even when she was in the middle of everything, she felt the spinning sensation of life happening too quickly and she was unable to get a grip on it. She desperately wanted a grip on it.

There was a story inside of her that was marinating. She wasn’t sure what it was going to be, but she could feel it, and it made her anxious. She was ready to write it, whenever it was ready to be written. It made her antsy, with her head constantly humming beneath the daily activity she engaged in, just waiting to ding, and she felt like she was watching the seconds tick down on the microwave and she was starving.

Costia had praised her work, and Lexa felt like there was a little bit of pride attached to the fact that she would occasionally give criticisms on a college film students work. She enjoyed their back and forth. She enjoyed having someone to talk to creatively without the pressure that Luna came with, especially when their visions often differed more and more lately.

College applications were next falls problem.

What concerned Lexa most was the impending summer before her senior year.

She had a girlfriend, and that was wonderful. She had a girlfriend who stuck her hands down her pants and that was new but incredibly amazing. She had a girlfriend who she would get to hang out with, and her parents were generally okay with her readjusting her priorities away from nine extra curricular activities.

But for the life of her, Lexa couldn’t understand the spinning sensation.

Maybe it was finals.

Maybe it was the overwhelming desire to make everything stop.

Maybe it was the fact that in nine months her entire world was vastly different, and she hadn’t had a chance to come to terms with it, good or bad.

Maybe she was getting used to being happy, in ways she never thought possible.

It was very early, but the sun was starting to come up, changing the darkness to pale grey, and Lexa looked at her phone and saw the picture of her and Clarke on it, and she smiled to herself, because somehow, ever since she went to that diner and got a cherry coke, she felt like the entire trajectory of her life changed.

Her alarm went off finally, and Lexa silenced it before sending off a ‘good morning, beautiful’ to her girlfriend before getting ready for the hike with her dad.

Maybe this was how it could always be, she wondered.

XXXXXXXXXX

For some reason, Clarke had found herself doing her own thinking. It wasn’t as early, but it was still a random moment of thinking about everything in her life and trying to get a grip on what was happening, because the entirety of it felt like holding water.

There was a cold front that existed that Clarke was almost grateful for between herself and her mother, both avoiding each other with huge success. Still, Clarke spent time with her father when she could, developing a schedule and adhering to it. If she kept to strict hours, her mother would know when to not be there. It was a symbiotic distrust that worked well if everyone kept to it.

But despite it, and even worse, she felt like she couldn’t stand to be in her own house, dreading the hours spent their, even asleep. The taste of freedom she had with Lexa, the escape across the country, it was too wonderful and too delicious, and it ruined the stale normalcy of her current predicament.

And that was how she found herself at Lexa’s house in the mid-morning, knowing full well that her girlfriend was halfway up a mountain. It didn’t matter. She wanted to leave her house, even if that meant fabricating an errand of dropping off a textbook that Lexa wouldn’t need until the week. It was all she wanted to do, disinterested in seeing her friends and counting down the hours until she had a shift at the diner.

She only hesitated for a moment before knocking on the door.

“Hey honey, Lexa’s not here. She went up to creek trail with her dad. I think they’re doing some trail running or something as equally atrocious sounding,” Mrs. Woods smiled as she leaned against the door.

“I know, I just wanted to drop this off,” Clarke held up the stack of binders, notebook, and book that Lexa had let her borrow to study for a history final.

She must have been busy, Clarke realized, feeling guilty for her intrusion and selfishness. There was music playing throughout the house, melting sweetly into the air. It smelled like cleaner, like she’d been working through a list of chores now that the other two were out of the house. And here Clarke was, standing with a pile of junk in her her arms.

Lexa had her mother’s eyes. They were pale green and amber, mixing between the two depending on the weather or the season or what they were wearing or how they were feeling. Clarke looked away as she pushed some messy hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. She was wearing an old concert t-shirt from some band Clarke had never heard of, but was clearly well-loved, with a bleach spot near the hem and a hole tattering the collar. Another hole had been sewn at some point near the sleeve.

Mrs. Woods pushed her glasses into her hair and reached for the books after searching the girl’s face on her doorstep.

“I was just going to make something for lunch. Would you like to join me?” There was a moment of hesitation. “It’s too quiet without those two running around.”

“I don’t want to impose.”

“Come on. I want to hear what you thought about your trip to CMU.”

Clarke smiled softly to herself before trailing along behind the already retreating figure. She kicked off her shoes and closed the door, climbing the half set of stairs toward the kitchen.

She had been cleaning. The floor was still slightly wet and the mop and bucket rested near a corner while the record player was up louder than normal and a basket of clothes to be folded sat on the couch. The cupboards were wide open and the fridge was nearly emptied, but still, Mrs. Woods dug through it for the fake lunch she was allegedly preparing for them.

“It was so nice having all of you kids over the other night for the movies. Lexa showed us the next day and it came out like a real movie. It blew my mind.”

“Yeah, she’s like super talented,” Clarke agreed as she took a seat on the stool opposite. “I remember the first time she showed me something she did and I had expected like a youtube clip or something but it was like a short film. And then she showed me scripts. Like she writes scripts. And reads scripts. For fun.”

“I know. She’s a huge nerd in almost every sense of the word,” Mrs. Woods sighed but smiled, pulling out some bread and fixings for a peanut butter jelly sandwich. “Movies were like an escape for her when Aden was sick. They worked their way through the entire top 100 films of all time list and then started making their own. She filmed the entire thing, from date of diagnosis to the day after the funeral.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“Strawberry or grape?”

“Oh, uh, grape please,” Clarke nodded and accepted a glass of iced tea slid across to her.

“Lexa is a good kid,” she decided for herself as she began to spread peanut butter on some bread. “She’s happy, right?”

Clarke only met her eyes when she realized she was being looked at.

“I think so,” the cheerleader agreed.

The mother smiled and went back to her work.

“How was the trip for you?” she ventured, licking her thumb between spreading the jam.

“Honestly?”

“Of course.”

“A bit scary. Amazing. Fun. All of it rolled up into one thing.”

“College can be a scary time. But I’m sure your parents were excited you were looking?”

“My moms only been on my case since I was twelve,” Clarke shrugged. “Thanks,” she smiled and accepted the sandwich.

“Can’t say I haven’t been on Lexa’s as well. But I’ve come to see how driven she is and I have a bit of faith. You’re a driven girl. And smart. You’ll do well.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“Well the only alternative is to stay here forever.”

“Yeah I don’t want that.”

“Would it be ridiculous for us to move across the country if Lexa got into school with Anya?”

“Maybe a little bit. But also kind of sweet.”

“Northeast, Northwest. What’s the difference?” she mumbled with a cheek full of food. “All it does is rain anyway.”

Clarke snorted slightly and took another bite while watching the mother across from her lean against the counter. The shirt cut right to the edge of her jeans and when she moved skin appeared. Clarke found herself incredibly impressed yet again by the genes in that family and wondered what Lexa would look like in her mid-forties.

There was such a stark difference between Lexa’s mother and her own. Clarke could almost see the life drained from her own mom, while Mrs. Woods felt fresh, as if she were just figuring it out and found contentment and ease within herself. Perhaps it was because she was over the pain, or at least removed from it, while Clarke’s family was in the thick of a never-ending onslaught. Clarke kind of hoped that was the case, because maybe there was hope.

“Any idea what you want to study?”

“Neurological research.”

Beth stopped chewing for an instant and looked at the girl across from her with a new tinge of admiration.

“You know, you don’t have to try to cure a disease to do something that would make your father proud.”

“I know. I just always liked that stuff anyway. My mom wanted me to follow in her footsteps, but I don’t really want to be a doctor. I don’t want those hours forever.”

“Understandable.”

“I haven’t told anyone this yet.”

“I won’t tell,” she grinned as she took another sip of her iced tea.

They sat in the kitchen quietly and enjoyed their lunch together. Both knew it was an escape and both were okay with it. Clarke had come to know Mrs. Woods over the past six months and had come to like her and enjoy seeing her. She was quickly learning that adults were incredibly flawed beyond compare, but there were ways to grow from it.

“I hope you don’t mind me telling you a story, but just bear with me while I talk about nothing in particular, and especially not about you,” Mrs. Woods finally broke the quiet as she watched the cheerleader nibble around the crust. “When I was young, I left high school about your age. I was going to model and follow around rock stars and such.”

“Seriously?”

“It’s not that farfetched.”

“Kind of.”

She ignored the comment and rolled her head so it rested on her shoulder wistfully.

“My parents didn’t really care. They were really stuck in their own lives, just going through the motions. Never took much notice of me. I think it’s why I do care so much about my daughter wasting her life. I lasted about eighteen months before I broke down and got my GED. Immediately got into college and the rest is history.”

“What happened though, in the eighteen months?”

“I was a waitress and sunday school teacher and I did about six gigs, got paid for two of them,” she chuckled to herself. “Made some great friends. Squatted in a two bedroom apartment with six other girls. But never once did I feel like I could go anywhere else. I couldn’t go home. I didn’t have any other family.”

“So how did you do it?”

“Luck.”

Clarke shook her head.

“It’s true. Those other six girls weren’t as lucky. Let’s see. Two are dead. One is in jail. One’s heavy into drugs and gets clean every few years to check in with me. And the other two are off in the midwest somewhere. They hate their husbands and kids and lives.”

“I don’t want to be a model.”

“That’s not my point, darling,” Mrs. Woods said as she grabbed the plate with the crusts on it. “I know you’re going to graduate. I know you can be a researcher or an astronaut or a teacher or a plumber if you really wanted to.”

Clarke blushed slightly at how nonchalant the praise came at her.

“Lexa told me about some of what is going on at your house. I’m sorry that you have to deal with it. I went chasing problems but yours just settled in. But no matter what,” she craned her neck, waiting for Clarke to meet her eyes. “Our door is always open, no matter what you need. No matter what would ever happen between you two. No matter,” she repeated, reiterating it fiercely, “no matter anything at all, anytime. I don’t care if I hear from you twenty years from now. I mean it because I didn’t have that. I clearly beat the odds of my housemates. But barely.”

Clarke looked away and nodded.

“I mean it.”

“That’s very kind.”

“It’s the least we can do for each other.”

“Thank you.”

“If you don’t take me up on it, and you get into trouble, I will actually beat you.”

Clarke chuckled and shook her head.

“Come on and help me dust. You’re young. You can climb the ladder.”

Chapter Text

The evening was falling quickly despite the flurry of activity happening. It felt as if time were passing very quickly, and no one took the moment to notice because there was much to be done, despite nothing needing to be done.

Freshly showered and dressed, Lexa stood in front of the mirror and fidgeted with her tuxedo, hoping to find some of the confidence she expected it to automatically imbue her with. Instead, she just sighed and tried to remember that her date was expecting a good evening, and that was what she was going to provide.

There’d been a switch, since they’d come back from their trip. As if their relationship had evolved or changed. Lexa wasn’t sure how or what happened, just that they felt oddly… certain? Normal? Steady? Not as if they weren’t before, but there was a certain level of normalcy to them that she hadn’t felt before, though she suspected it was a bit of her own comfort in everything Clarke did. They had plans for the summer, with each other. Lexa felt supported and not completely out of her element because her girlfriend never made her feel dumb for asking questions about their relationship.

She smoothed her shirt and adjusted the tuck before her mother walked in and sat on the edge of the bed, watching her happily. The corsage in her lap.

“You look amazing.”

“I don’t know. My hair is a mess.”

“I think it looks great.”

Lexa sighed and tugged on her coat, prepared to do the whole prom thing. She was more excited for her date. But she took a moment to survey the whole picture of herself and was a little happy with the look.

“Aiden and I were going to match. I don’t know why we thought it’d be cool, just that we wanted to have cool tuxedos, the full Bond treatment,” Lexa remembered, smiling fondly at the memories with her twin. “We watched a few prom movies and really put this idea together of what we needed and how badly we were going to dance, but it wouldn’t matter because we would look good.”

Lexa’s mother looked at her and smiled warmly through the mirror as her daughter tilted her chin to adjust the tie. Her father leaned against the doorway and looked away from her to catch his wife’s eye for a moment, to share a second of loos and hope all rolled into one.

“Well,” Tim nodded, pushing off from the doorway, moving over to help fix the imperfect tie. “You certainly do look great. Let me try.”

Lexa tilted her chin again and made a face. She was happy because it was a moment, and she promised her brother that she would give her parents all of the moments he wouldn’t be around for. There was a list.

“Aiden was a terrible dancer,” her mother agreed. “He had no natural rhythm unfortunately. Even after a year of ballet.”

“I forgot about ballet,” Lexa chuckled.

Her father smoothed her shoulders after fixing the tie.

“You know what you need?” he mused, standing back and surveying. “What do you think of the all-black Portugieser?”

“Oh, yes. That’s a good one. If you’re sure,” his wife agreed and he was heading down the hall before she could second guess it. “Here, take that off,” she motioned to Lexa’s iwatch.

“Why?”

“Dad’s going to get you an actual watch. With hands. Non-digital.”

“Oh, yeah, that’d be very Bond,” Lexa agreed. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

“I fully believe that there is a timelessness to certain accessories. Embrace those as much as possible,” she instructed.

“Okay,” her daughter nodded, making a mental note to figure that out more later.

But her father walked in before she could ask anymore questions, offering the watch as Lexa held out her wrist for him to clasp it. It was heavy, with a soft leather band that did, in fact, go well with her outfit.

“My father gave this to me when I graduated high school,” Tim explained. “I never wore it much because I thought it was too expensive. But I think it might be time to stop saving everything in boxes and start enjoying them more. What do you think?”

“Wait, how expensive?” his daughter furrowed, slightly worried at ruining it.

“I was going to give this to Aiden when he graduated. Keep the tradition alive. I don’t think grandpa would have minded this though.”

“I don’t know. He was kind of sexist.”

“Yeah,” Tim chuckled. “What an even better reason to do it.”

Finally done, Lexa looked in the mirror while her parents relaxed and watched their daughter survey herself. They never really imaged she would want to go to prom, and were all the more grateful to see it happen, and to see her so excited.

“You look beautiful, sweetheart,” Beth whispered, covering her smile with her hands as she watched her daughter move in the mirror.

“You clean up really nice. Clarke’s a lucky girl.”

“You guys have to say that,” she dismissed the praise.

“Oh not at all,” Tim shook his head. “If you would have gone with that other one, I would have told you how bad it looked.”

“He would have,” his wife agreed. “And we couldn’t let you represent the family looking like a yutz.”

The small unit milled about for a moment, enjoying the peace. It oddly felt weird without Anya, and it dawned on Lexa that she was really going to miss her this summer when she stayed back home. But the doorbell rang, indicating the date had finally arrived, and the nerves escalated rather quickly.

“I want to remind you of all the boring stuff,” her mother began. “Hey, don’t huff. I think it’s our parental duty to cover the important things. I’ve flipped through those teen shows. I know what you guys get up to.”

“My life is nothing like a teen show,” Lexa promised with a grin.

“Still,” she continued as she made her way to the door. “Tim, some help.”

“Right,” he nodded, becoming stern. “If you’re going to drink, take an Uber home. We will not ask any questions. If you’re going to drink, do not get sloppy. Bond never get sloppy.”

“I don’t really like drinking,” Lexa confessed. “It tastes terrible.”

“Good, great. I love to hear that.”

They moved down the hall toward the stairs a second later. They heard the door opening and Tim stopped, holding his daughter near the top of the steps.

“There are certain cliches about prom night,” he began, meeting his daughter’s eye and holding it despite her best efforts to escape. “You do not have to live up to unrealistic expectations or cliches. You never have to do anything you are uncomfortable doing. And if you are looking to do cliche things, remember that your partners consent is paramount.”

“Dad, I know,” she groaned.

“Lexa, this is important,” he insisted for one more second. “There are things in this life that are important to do with as much thought as possible. Deciding who to give your heart to, whom to express your affections toward in an extremely intimate way– it deserves a decent amount of thought. And you never deserve to feel badly about any of it.”

Lexa took a deep breath, the nerves still vibrating beneath her skin. She nodded and clenched her jaw as her father nodded and smiled, hugging her tightly.

“That was a really good speech,” she mumbled into his shoulder. His body moved with a small chuckle.

“Yeah, well, I try.”They stood like that for a moment, and Lexa felt her father kiss the top of her head before rubbing her back. “Let’s go see your date and take some pictures.”

Despite her groan, Lexa agreed and made her way downstairs to find her mother and girlfriend chatting.

If she hadn’t been able to form works before, she was certain she’d never be able to do it again. Her gown was blue, pale and lovely, and Lexa grinned, dopey and dumb as she rounded the final step.

“You look really nice,” Lexa whispered. “Wow. I mean… Wow.”

“You clean up really well, Woods.”

“Both of you are perfect,” Beth offered. “Here, Lex,” she handed over the corsage.

“Yeah, I um, got this for you,” she mumbled, slipping it onto her girlfriend’s wrist. “I hope you like it?”

“It’s perfect. You did good. I suspect you had help?” Clarke looked at Mr. Woods who shrugged and maintained his spot against the wall, hovering with a camera.

“I’ll never reveal my sources.”

The pair stood in the entry way of the house happily grinning and appraising the other, not accustomed to such formal duds. There were many pictures snapped and parental cries of approval and adorableness before they were able to extricate themselves and get to the driveway.

“I hope you don’t mind not having a limo,” Lexa hurred as she opened the passenger door quickly. “But my car got finished and I was really excited.”

“This is way better,” Clarke promised.

And she meant it, Lexa knew. That was why she was incredibly smitten. Because Clarke meant things.

“Ready for prom?” she asked as Lexa started her car, it roaring to life.

“As I’ll ever be.”

XXXXXXXXXX

The hotel ballroom was loud– filling quickly with people and voices– all chattering and dancing excitedly about the momentous night. It was a parade of lace and sequin and velvet, shiny and perfect in all its youthful glory. Lexa didn’t even mind it at all. She smiled for the pictures and she laughed and joked with some teammates and friends from classes.

Somewhere along the line of existing in a shell and passing through school unnoticed, of drifting around in her own little dream world, things had changed and she had become engaged with the world around her, so much so that she had people to talk to at prom, and she had people asking to hang out and telling her how much fun they had watching movies in her yard and they hoped to do it again in the summer.

Somehow it changed.

Somehow she was someone who was dragged onto the dance floor and only half-heartedly fought it.

It was stiff for a few moments, but Lexa relaxed slightly as Clarke pressed against her and moved with her to the slower song. She liked the feeling of Clarke’s hips in her hands and the weight of her arms on her shoulders.

“What are you thinking about?” Clarke whispered.

The lights were tinted blue and purple and Lexa kind of liked how it all looked.

“Trying not to step on your feet too badly,” Lexa promised.

“No, no,” her girlfriend shook her head. “You’ve got that thinking face on.”

“I don’t have a thinking face.”

“You do. You are notorious for it.”

“Notorious seems like a strong word.”

“What are you thinking about?” she tried again, rolling her eyes at the level of avoidance she was receiving.

“I don’t want to sound like a bummer,” Lexa shrugged. “I promise I’m having an amazing time–”

“I believe you. I’m a great date.”

She earned a smile with that despite Lexa’s disinterest in smiling too big. They moved a little more, swaying softly with each other.

“Aiden would have loved this,” Lexa whispered. “I guess I just wish he could have seen me and this and been here. So for one moment, just one tonight that I’ll allow myself, I was just missing him and trying to… this is going to sound stupid… telepathically maybe? Send this to him. All the sounds and feelings and sights. Like I could send him a video or something and he’d understand.”

Certain she’s ruined the evening by saying what was actually in her head, Lexa took a deep, shaky breath and clenched her jaw, flexing it a second later to loosen up a new tightness she discovered.

“I don’t think it sounds stupid,” Clarke decided for her. “And if you want, we can take another moment to really get a good picture.”

“Really?”

“We could get wild and take three, if you really wanted. I don’t mind.”

“There’s a whole list, you know?”

“Of what?”

“Moments he wanted me to give to the family.”

“Like what?”

It wasn’t often Lexa felt compelled to talk about her brother, even with Clarke. No one could really understand what it felt like to lose an invisible limb, to lose such a fundamental part of herself and have to keep breathing. Maybe it was the lights, or maybe it was the first of many moments she suddenly felt rapidly approaching that she was going to actually have to do to keep her promise.

“Real stupid stuff like some Christmas traditions and birthday things and life moments, you know, like graduating and getting arrested. Aiden was a planner and probably more obsessive than I was about making lists.”

“You’ll let me help with some of them, whenever they come up, won’t you?”

Her eyes were impossibly way more blue than humanly possible, and Lexa stared for an impossibly long few seconds before nodding.

“If you want.”

The music changed and Clarke grinned.

“Was it a long enough moment?”

“Yeah,” Lexa nodded, smiling again at how wonderful it felt to remember things.

“Good, because I think it’s time for you to make the rounds.”

“What’s that?”

“You have to say hi to all of your friends. It’s an important part of any good party. Have I taught you nothing yet, Woods?”

“You’ve definitely taught me a few things,” she wagered.

“Shut up. Let’s go. I want to dance more.”

XXXXXXXXX

It was actually hard to pull themselves away from their friends, Lexa realized. She hadn’t actually meant to, but had somehow discovered that she could be around people and when she took an interest in them, they would do the same, in turn.

But Lexa has further plans to make it the perfect night, with her own traditions.

“That was an amazing night,” Clarke observed as the old truck made its way down near-empty streets.

“You really had a good time?”

“I did. And you didn’t look like you were miserable.”

“How could I be miserable when I had the best date there?”

“You know, for anyone else, that would sound like a line.”

“I wouldn’t even know how to formulate a line,” Lexa realized.

“Thank goodness for that.”

They weren’t driving far, but Clarke kicked off her heels anyway. Almost too eagerly, she descended back to a normal height, wiggling her toes, okay with being a few inches shorter than her girlfriend once again. She rested her head against the back of the seat in the newly finished old car and smiled to herself, oddly happy and content in the moment. There was still a bit of the prickles of a shared, stolen bottle of vodka that’d been snuck in a sipped in a group in the bathroom. There was still the tingle of Lexa’s hands on her as they danced.

It had been harder than expected to tell her mother that she wasn’t coming home on prom night. It took an alarming amount of planning and strategizing with Raven to make sure it was understood that she was staying there. Sometimes, Clarke let herself wonder if perhaps her mother just accepted these little lies, not wanting to know the answers, at the end of her rope. And Clarke decided she didn’t care. She didn’t care one bit about the opinion of a liar.

“You know I’m not too fond of the woods,” Clarke reminded her girlfriend as they turned up toward an old trail, far off from town. “I was murdered in some a little bit ago.”

“Like one time,” Lexa shrugged, giving her a grin.

The light of the headlights and the dashboard made her face glow. Clarke liked watching Lexa’s face change. She liked how it looked under different lights. She liked how it was subtle and quiet but expressive, like reading a book in its original language, if you spend the time to learn it.

“Are you dragging me out here to finish the job?”

“Never.”

“But this is the exact set up to a perfect slasher, and I should know. I’m an expert. I was forced to watch multiple scary movies this Halloween.”

“You volunteered for some.”

“Half-heartedly.”

“We’ll be fine,” Lexa promised as she backed the truck up to a clearing and popped it into park. “I have made it my sole mission to convert you to enjoying nature. I also want to spend a full night with you, uninterrupted.”

“Except by a disgruntled slasher with a hook and a scraggly beard.”

“Exactly, except for him or her. Just sit tight, and don’t look.”

“Okay, definitely killer vibes are coming my way, Woods!” Clarke called as her girlfriend hopped out of the driver’s seat and disappeared into the night, only to pop open the back hatch of the Bronco a few seconds later.

As much as she wanted to peek, Clarke didn’t, but rather listened to rustling and accepted her backpack that was pushed toward her. She heard Lexa curse under her breath as she wrestled with something before grumbling and moving, bouncing the car around.

It was exceptionally sweet, to have a girlfriend who tried, who wanted to do things and spend time together in these ways. Clarke often wondered what influence she was having on Lexa, and if it were good. She very badly wanted to be good, but at the same time, she once thought her parents were in love. And if they could fall out of love, then what hope did anyone else have? Until she thought of Lexa’s parents, and she remembered she could be good.

But she couldn’t imagine she’d had any impact on the nerdy girl’s life, not in the same way that she experienced Lexa.

Before she could ruminate too much, before she could ruin the night for herself, the passenger door opened and Lexa held out her hand.

“You really didn’t have to do anything, you know?” Clarke reminded her, yet again, earning an eye roll and shake of her messy hair at that point.

“I just wanted to be alone with you,” she shrugged. “Sometimes it feels like we’re always doing something or going somewhere or seeing everyone else. Tonight seemed like a good night to escape behind the prom night façade.”

“And what façade is that?”

“You know,” she shrugged again, her shoulders staying up near her ears. “Parties and hotels and the such.”

“We really should reevaluate your point of reference from teen movies.”

“Maybe. But it’s fun. Now, let me show you what camping could be….”

With a rather large bit of arms and flourish, Lexa once again pulled down the tailgate and scrambled to click a switch.

“Lex…”

Truly speechless, Clarke felt her eyes grow wide as she looked at the trunk, now glowing golden with tiny lights strung from the safety bar and around the sides, with a pile of sleeping bags and pillows and a laptop with a movie ready, with a tiny little cooler with what she knew wasn’t anything alcoholic and if she was a betting woman, she’d wager consisted of kool-aid and snacks. It was an extreme amount of effort, and it was… it was perfect.

“You can change… I’ll change real quick out here. Are you sure it’s okay? We don’t have to stay.”

Clarke kissed her, dropping her bag into the dirt and wrapping her arms around her neck, she kissed her harder than ever before.

It would be Lexa Woods who could convince Clarke that true love could exist, against all odds, despite all else. The nerdy, quiz bowl champion, distance running, filmmaking nerd, who somehow just knew, despite not knowing anything.

It was prom night, and Clarke found herself snuggled in the back of a very old car, making out with a girl who might have been distracted by the movie playing on the laptop. With a shift of her leg, she closed it to make sure she got her full attention.

Clarke felt hands moving tenderly beneath her shirt as her girlfriend shift atop her, which was a very pleasant surprise. She grabbed tighter, she moved rougher, she pushed harder.

After a rather intense kiss, Lexa pulled away slightly, waiting. Her lips were puffy and her cheeks flushed with the effort. Clarke moved her hands from neck to shoulders and back to cheeks, pulling her down for another kiss before tugging at her shirt.

“Are we… ? Are you sure?”

“Very fucking sure,” Clarke growled.

Renewed in her vigor, Lexa tugged at Clarke’s shirt, tossing it somewhere near them.

Hips pushed and thighs rubbed and kisses grew hotter while hands grew bolder. Clarke geared so much of her attention toward making sure she wasn’t pushing too hard, doing her best to not rush, though she was quickly losing the war between the ‘fuck her’ side of her brain and the ‘fuck me’ side.

“Are you sure? Do you… “ Lexa paused her movements and placed her forehead against Clarke’s. “Do you want to…”

“Very, very much,” she nodded eagerly. “If you do.”

“I do.”

“Good. I um…” Lexa pulled away slightly. “I’ve never…”

“I know. We can take our time.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” Clarke nodded, tugging her once again.

XXXXXXXXXX

Lexa chose the spot for the sunrise. Her alarm went off and she quickly scrambled around the trunk to find her phone to shut it off, earning a chuckle from her girlfriend considering they hadn’t gone to sleep.

She wasn’t used to being naked with someone else, but she did enjoy the warmth and the feeling of Clarke’s body. She loved the look of it. She loved the taste of it. She grinned to herself, tired and dopey and sated.

“Any reason you have an alarm set for like five in the morning?”

“Yeah,” Lexa nodded and pushed open the tailgate, revealing the grey that was already settling before the dawn.

Below them was the entirety of the valley, dipping and full of tall old trees, just shadows in the night.

“Okay, I get it,” Clarke sighed and wrapped her arms around Lexa’s form, leaning her chin on her shoulder, kissing the skin there. “Camping can be nice.”

“Is it nice because of the sex?”

“You can ruin a moment.”

Lexa chuckled and pulled arms around her stomach tighter so she was wearing her girlfriend like a backpack.

“But it was good, right?”

“Very good.”

“We can do it more?”

“Definitely.”

“Nice.”

The sunrise came, cracking in blue and pink and purple and every single hue between. Lexa felt Clarke’s breath against her neck and shoulder. She felt lips on her skin and her breathing pressing against her back. She smiled to herself and watched the sunrise, thankful to share it with someone who made her chest feel so warm.

“It was really okay, right?” Lexa whispered, turning her head slightly to try to see.

“It was perfect. Are you okay with it?”

“Yeah. I… I am.”

“What time do you have to be home?” Clarke yawned, kissing shoulder and spine.

“Probably before lunch. You work?”

“Yeah. One.”

“We can sleep for a bit.”

“Or…”

Lexa chuckled and leaned back, interested in the new day.

Chapter Text

The world looked different.

It definitely felt different.

She felt different.

Still tired from the lack of sleep and long day, Lexa found herself spread across her bed as the afternoon lingered onward, the sun slowly dipping, coming in through the new leaves on the tree outside of her window. A movie played in the background, some older one she was particularly interested in, but needed the noise. Downstairs, her father was mowing the lawn and her mother was cleaning up from dinner. She felt quiet.

It felt like a song, she thought. Better than the movies could have lead her to believe. Instead, she equated it to a soft, warm song, with lulling harmonies and lingering static across her skin. That was how she felt about Clarke. She felt like a slow song in a honeycomb. She felt like a weighted blanket in a lazy river.

She hadn’t anticipated any of it.

From her bed, she strained her ears and listed as her mother went outside to take her father a drink, most likely. There was homework to be finished and a script to annotate for Costia, but Lexa didn’t want to do any of it, because she wanted to savor the feeling of overwhelming happiness. She couldn’t remember ever feeling so happy in her entire existence.

And so, as she always did when she needed to talk about it, she moved to the garage. Her car was in the driveway, a fully functioning machine now. So instead, her attention turned to Aiden’s shell of a car.

Just a few minutes into putzing around, she tugged her cell phone out of her pocket and dialed her sister. Anya would know what to do with all of it– the… the joy? The happiness?

“Hey, what’s u–”

“I had sex.”

“Christ, Lexa,” Anya huffed, nearly falling off of the elliptical at the gym. “We’ve talked about this. You have to ease someone into that type of conversation.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just nearly got bucked off my machine.”

“How do you ease into that conversation?”

“Something like… Hey, so Clarke and I have been getting closer, and we finally– you know? Something like that.”

Lexa pursed her lips and tapped the screwdriver against her thigh as she mulled over the words.

“After prom. We went camping in the back of the Bronco.”

“Okay, I don’t need the whole thing,” her sister sighed, smiling to herself. “How was it? How are you? You wanted to, right?”

“Real bad,” she nodded and furrowed as she sat in the driver’s seat of the old frame, twiddling the tool around. “Like, I don’t think I ever wanted anything more. It was… it was really, really good. I did a good job.”

“How did Clarke do?”

“A really, really good job.”

Both sat on their opposite coasts and mulled it over. Anya took her time in processing it because she hadn’t ever thought she’d be having conversations like this with her sister. Lexa always seemed so quiet and contained, as if she didn’t need anyone else, let alone a big sister. It kind of always felt like that with the twins. They had each other, what would they need her for? She hadn’t prepared for this, though she was far from upset about the revelation.

“So you had a good time?”

“I think it was perfect. And now I feel… I don’t know. I feel so warm and I want to talk to Clarke, like all of the time. And my body is tingly.”

“Wow. You are aware of how absolutely grossly in love you sound, right?”

“Ew, no, what?”

“You sound like you like Clarke a lot, and as Dad would say, getting to know her intimately has just deepened your bond.”

“Don’t quote Dad right now.”

“You have to admit, the man puts together a thorough and engaging sex education talk series,” Anya reminded her.

It was quiet on the line, and so Anya adjusted her speed, knowing full well that her sister needed the time to think, and she could imagine how overwhelmed she might be from all of the feelings that came with sex, and potentially the sex itself.

“This has been the weirdest year of my life,” Lexa finally admitted, leaning her head back as she closed her eyes.

“Weirder then when Aiden died?”

“Kind of. At least I had time to prepare for this. I didn’t know I’d be someone who had a girlfriend who had sex.”

“You never knew that?” Anya chuckled.

“Never really thought about it.”

“Well, tough break, because that’s your life now. You should get Clarke something nice. To thank her.”

“I have to thank her for sex?”

“You should always do something sweet for your girlfriend.”

“I do sweet things.”

“Like what?”

“Last night in the truck. I had snacks and lights and movies.”

“Yeah, but that was for sex.”

“It wasn’t for sex. Sex just happened,” Lexa shrugged.

“Still. Lean into the warm fuzzy feelings you’re having.”

“It sounds terrible.”

“Did you talk to Luna yet?”

Lexa sighed and shook her head even though Anya wouldn’t know. It didn’t seem quite right, somehow, and she wasn’t sure why.

“I don’t think she likes hearing about Clarke.”

“Well, fine. Do you want to tell me more about… it?”

“Not really.”

Grateful, Anya slowed, her cool down period starting.

“I’m doing fine by the way. Totally unbothered by the fact that my kid sister is having more sex than me.”

“We did do it a few times. I didn’t tell you that part,” Lexa nodded.

With a heavy sigh, Anya climbed off of her machine and stood there for a moment before moving to wipe it down.

“Or is it one time, but like multiple times in the one time? I don’t really know what constitutes a time, either.”

“I’m going to take that guy in my lecture up on his date offer I think.”

“Cool.”

“Mom and Dad mentioned where we’re going this summer on the family trip?”

“Not yet, but I think they’re leaning toward Arches.”

“We should do Hawaii.”

“That’d be fun.”

“Put it in their ear. Be subtle.”

“Should I do something for Clarke tonight to thank her, or like, should I wait until tomorrow?”

“You should do whatever feels right.”

“That’s why I’m calling you.”

“I can’t believe you had sex.”

“Me neither,” Lexa grinned and closed her eyes. “Do you think I’m in love?”

“You’re the only person who could know that.”

“I’ve never been in love before though,” she explained. “How would I know what it feels like?”

“Don’t think about it too much. Just keep doing whatever you’re doing, and try not to overthink it.”

Lexa frowned.

“You know full well that’s what I’m going to do.”

Her sister chuckled and Lexa shook her head.

“You should go out with that guy if you like him,” Lexa decided. “You always said summer was the best time to make a move.”

“Is that what you’re going to do this summer– Make some moves?”

“I think so. I’m going to try.”

“Alright, well I guess we can use a rebuilding season.”

Lexa smiled and nodded. It was nice to talk to her sister. It was nice to remember that she was around, even if she wasn’t. It was weird to realize she missed her. And so she stayed on the phone a little longer, because it was nice, and she was happy, and she owed a large portion of that to Anya.

It made her want to go to CMU even more, but she didn’t want to rain on her own parade, so she pushed it away, hiding ideep and further down that ever before.

XXXXXXXXX

It’d been a long weekend. It’d been a longer shift.

But Clarke still smiled to herself as she plopped down in her bed. She kicked off her shoes without moving much, her clothes still smelling like the diner, her hair slightly greasy from the lack of a shower. It was on the agenda, she just wasn’t pressed at the moment despite the pile of homework still to be done.

Downstairs, her mother and father were watching TV together, cuddled on the couch. She’d grunted a greeting and told them a little about prom and the weekend, promising to see them later, but alluding to the project she still had left to complete.

Nothing made her want to move though, and so she laid across the bed at an awkward angle, her feet dangling over the side, now with shoes in a pile beneath them. It was quiet, and that suited her just fine for the moment, as she closed her eyes and thought about the night before, about Lexa, about dancing and how perfect she was in her tux, and about the moment, the indescribable moment, when they were moving to the music, that Clarke felt utterly captivated. And when Lexa opened up, and showed how her heart worked, it just made Clarke’s chest feel as if it were a balloon being inflated too much, but never going to pop.

Absently, she ran her fingertips along her lips, remembering the feeling of Lexa in the back of her truck, remembering the weight of the body atop her and the warmth of her skin, the little bit of sweat on her shoulders, the way Lexa’s arms shook before she drifted lower, the look in her eyes in the pale lights, the way her body felt– just all of it, Clarke replayed it as many times as she could, memorizing it all after spending an afternoon trying to not blush and think about it, trying her best to not smile in random moments when she’d remember anyway.

There was a look Lexa had, where she was unsure to continue. And Clarke had taken off her glasses for her and cupped her neck, tugging her closer, and whispered things and Lexa had gone rigid and melted within an instant.

That was an important moment.

“I’m already asleep,” Clarke complained as she picked up the phone, interrupted from her reverie that was just getting to the good parts. Though perhaps it was for the best.

“It’s seven,” Raven disagreed. “It’s still light outside.”

“I’m exhausted. You’re lucky I answered.”

“How honored I am,” she laughed. “Especially since you just bailed on us all during prom and no one’s heard from you all day.”

“I had work.”

“Legend has it you’re still up shacked up with Woods.”

“We’re legends now?”

“Come on, Griffin. Out with it. I was afraid you ran away or something.”

“We just went camping in Lexa’s Bronco. No big deal.”

“Except you hate camping,” Raven reminded her.

“It wasn’t camping so much as glamping?” Clarke decided. “She had a mattress pad and the trunk was huge. Tons of pillows, string lights, movies and snacks. It was really cute and we got to watch the sunrise over the mountains.”

“Jesus that’s disgusting.”

Clarke couldn’t help but chuckle to herself. She felt like she owed her friend more, to apologize for bailing, to apologize for continually escaping their group of friends and continually avoiding almost all form of fun. She just didn’t seem to have it in her anymore.

“I really am tired, and I have to shower and I still have my portion of a history project to submit tonight…”

“You really aren’t going to tell me what you were up to? You’re practically avoiding me. And everyone else. Even Octavia has noticed.”

“Well, I’m sure she’s not too upset by it.”

She hadn’t meant to to sound as snippy as it had, but it just came out. For a moment she kicked herself for picking up the phone. She could have just gone on ignoring it. But part of her had missed Raven, missed that connection.

“We miss you, Clarke. I know you’re busy with your girlfriend and somehow introducing her into society has turned into a full time job, but you do have friends who are worried.”

“There’s nothing to worry about,” Clarke sighed. “I’ve just been busy, but summer is coming.”

“And you’ll be working more than ever and sucking face with that nerd.”

“Hey, only I can call her that.”

“You going to beat me up like you threatened Finn?” Raven chuckled. “Seriously. You have to start bringing her around. Everyone is going to think she’s the one who is keeping you away. And that’s not what’s happening, right?”

“Oh, God no,” Clarke shook her head as she finally stood up. Slowly she started to peel away layers of clothes so she could shower. “Lexa couldn’t do any of that. It’s been all me. I just have some shit going on.”

“Yeah, no shit.”

“I don’t want to talk about it or spread it all over the place–”

“I wouldn’t–”

“No, I know,” Clarke nodded to herself. “But I just don’t have the energy to pretend to be happy around everyone most of the time.”

“Damn, you’re really deep in it, aren’t you?” Raven fret, finally getting the honesty she’d wanted from weeks ago. “Should I worry?”

“No, no– I’m… I’m just exhausted.”

“You’ll let me help, if I can?”

“Of course,” she fibbed.

“And you’ll bring Lexa around? I miss you. I’m dying without you around.”

“You could help on Lexa’s movie if you want. She’s planning on making a documentary this summer.”

“Should I be worried by the amount of slasher films she makes?”

“Nah,” Clarke chuckled. “She doesn’t even like them that much. This one is a subversion of the stereotypical slasher genre.”

“God, she’s turning you into a nerd, too.”

“Maybe.”

There was a moment of quiet for them, a peaceful moment and a slight understanding. Clarke knew that summer would change everything, that things could get back to normal, that she could put away the past year and the bullshit and start over on her last year. She had a plan, and she realized that maybe Lexa was rubbing off on her.

“So…” Raven continued. “Sunrise on the mountain… was there more…?”

“You seriously called to ask if we hooked up, didn’t you?”

“I have to live vicariously. Kyle is… God this boy is slow to move. The fact that Lexa fucking Woods made moves on you before he has tried to round second is an actual crime. A sick joke the universe is playing on me.”

“I was very explicit.”

“I’m sure you were,” her friend teased.

“I mean… Lexa isn’t one to assume she has a chance. I had to tell her that she did. Maybe you just have to tell Wick.”

“I shouldn’t have to make all of the moves.”

“He’ll get the message.”

“Oh, and I suppose Lexa is all confident now?”

“No, but she’s getting there. She…” Clarke trailed off as she thought about it. She didn’t want to give any of Lexa away. She was selfish and greedy. “She is more confident. But I don’t think it’s confidence, I think it’s about security. They have to feel safe enough. So what if you have to be the one driving for a while?”

“Are you seriously not going to tell me what went on last night?”

Clarke found herself staring at her own body in the mirror, freshly stripped and free of the grime of the day before the shower. She looked at a mark on her hip, twisting to see it and remembering the edge of a seatbelt holder somewhere in that area. It made her smile as she pushed it tenderly.

“Nothing happened.”

“Alright, I will see you tomorrow and I’ll get it out of you.”

“I’m done kissing and telling,” Clarke swore.

“She wasn’t that good, huh?”

“Goodnight, Raven,” she laughed.

“We still on for Gus’ on Wednesday?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there.”

“Don’t bail.”

“I won’t.”

“I’m serious. I’m going to start taking it personally.”

“I promise,” she insisted.

“Good. We have planning to do.”

“Okay, goodbye for real I need to shower.”

“To rinse off Lexa Woods.”

“You’re gross.”

Clarke left it at that, hanging up and tossing her phone on the counter. She wasn’t accustomed to wanting to have something that was just her own. She was used to the group and moving in the pack so much, that she simply hadn’t noticed that she’d migrated away and was doing other things. She hadn’t thought to miss it too much.

For a moment she stared into her own eyes, leaning slightly closer to the mirror as the water ran, creating some steam in the bathroom.

She was undeniably happy, and yet felt hollow, and wasn’t sure how to fix it. She wasn’t even sure what needed fixing other than her own brain.

Maybe it was all too much.

Maybe she was just tired, she told herself.

Maybe she did just want to run away to the back of some truck in the middle of the woods. Maybe that was the only place she could feel happy because she was away– just… away.

With a deep breath Clarke paused before patting her own cheek and stepping into the hot water.

XXXXXXXXXX

It was different, suddenly, and Lexa knew it.

She felt different, still, though she couldn’t pinpoint why it was. But still, she somehow found herself outside of Clarke’s window anyway, because Anya was terrible with advice, and because Clarke was stressed with homework.

So she tossed rocks at the bright window on the corner of the old stone house and hoped her parents didn’t notice despite the lights on in the living room.

Lexa smiled to herself as Clarke appeared, furrowing before opening the window herself.

“Lexa? What are you doing here?” She whispered and hissed all at once to keep as quiet as possible.

“You said it’d been a long day. I thought you might need reinforcements,” Lexa explained, holding up a few bags of Clarke’s favorite snacks.

The girl in the window shook her head, smiling to herself as she gazed back at the girl with the treats in one hand and a few pebbles still clutched in the other.

“Come up.”

“No way. Your mom is terrifying and it’s past curfew.”

“So I have to come down there?”

“Only if you want snacks.”

Debating it momentarily, she rolled her eyes and disappeared. Lexa wasn’t sure if it was to come see her or to go back to her work. It was an excruciatingly long wait until she heard footsteps approaching from the side of the house and felt a body nearly tackle her.

“I see you are very eager for snacks,” Lexa chuckled, dropping the bags to handle her girlfriend’s weight. Though she was short, she was mighty.

Hair still wet from the shower and high in a bun atop her head, the wet tendrils tickled Lexa’s nose before Clarke shifted only to kiss her neck and then lips.

“Can we go back to the woods and never come out?”

“Wow, I was that good at sex to convince you to like camping?”

“I was so happy,” Clarke muttered into her girlfriend’s shoulder.

“Me too. You okay? You seemed quiet.”

Clarke pulled away and kissed her girlfriend’s cheek. Lexa let her down slowly, keeping her arms around her. She kissed her harder this time, fully.

“Just tired.”

“It’s not.. Um– with the– you know. Us. And the–”

“No. Not at all,” Clarke promised, grinning softly as Lexa struggled to compute the words she couldn’t exactly say. “More like coming home off of such a happiness high. Real life really slapped me around.”

“Anything I can help with?”

“Not really,” she shrugged. “But snacks certainly help.”

“Your mom?”

“She can’t have any.”

Clarke sat on the ground beneath the old maple tree, carefully perusing the snacks that had created a nest there. She popped open a bag and took one before offering it to her girlfriend. It took another second for Lexa to accept and join her there in the dark, only the streetlights glowing around them.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m very happy to see you. Thank you for coming over.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I know,” Clarke nodded and sighed before taking another bite from the bag. “I think I’m just tired. Or I don’t know. Talking to Raven really got me wondering about things. Or maybe it was just… when I came home my mom wasn’t here, and I know where she was, and I had to sit through dinner with my dad, in a great mood, by the way, while she just laughed like nothing was happening. It was… Maybe it’s all of that?”

“Yeah,” Lexa nodded as well, grateful to take some chips. “Maybe.”

Clarke ducked her head and ran her hand over her face.

“But summer is almost here. Only a few more weeks of school, and then I can just, like reset or something, right?”

“Definitely.”

“Should I tell my dad?”

“I don’t know if it’s your thing to tell.”

“I should make my mom?”

“You should talk to her, maybe? I don’t know the right answer here.”

“I was really hoping someone did,” Clarke chuckled and let out a heavy sigh, not finding any amusement in it at all. “I’m sick of feeling so shitty all of the time.”

They sat there and munched. It was still chilly despite the warmer spring, the night allowing the temperatures to drop back down, reigning supreme over the sunless time.

“Hey, you know, you don’t have to worry. None of that is your responsibility. Just… enjoy your dad and ignore the other bullshit. If I learned one thing in the hospital, is that you have to really savor the time. Just be around and that’s the stuff you’ll remember one day. Not this other junk.”

Lexa hadn’t meant to say so much. She hadn’t meant to reference any parallels to herself, in fact, because she didn’t want to acknowledge it. She liked to keep the boxes shut tightly, but this was an important lesson to pass along, or so she hoped.

But Clarke looked at her and seemed to understand, despite not wanting to, and Lexa looked away quickly until a hand fell on her thigh and rubbed a thumb along it. She just watched that fo a while because it felt nice and was warm.

“You’re very wise.”

“Nah,” Lexa shooed it away. “I just… I don’t know how to, but I very much want to be someone who helps you feel less shitty.”

“You do.”

Lexa smiled into her chest at the words, breathing slightly easier.

“You should get back to work. I don’t want to distract you for too long. I was trying to be sweet. Anya said that I should do something sweet for you.”

“Anya is a wise woman. Listen to her.”

With Lexa’s help, Clarke was heaved up from the ground, oddly sad to lose the quiet moment of snacks and her girlfriend. She grabbed Lexa’s collar and pulled her down to kiss her. Lexa smiled and melted into it, aware now, that she might actually have to listen to Anya more often.

Chapter Text

It was loud.

It was very loud and very raucous, but still, Lexa stood in the middle of what felt like her entire school, packed into and overflowing out of the parking lot that sat near the entrance to the park on the edge of the river that flowed through town. It was already dark, but the streetlights did their best to illuminate the situation of the end of year celebration.

Lexa nursed her cup and fell in with some of her soccer teammates, huddling in a circle and casually taking her time looking for anyone else she might want to talk to. She wanted to find her girlfriend, but knew that might not happen for a little while.

The end of the year had been rough, between finals and a league championship, as well as her self-imposed script writing and frequent consultations with Costia, it’d just turned into a lot, and Lexa found herself craving the low-expectations of summer. It didn’t hurt that the year was finally coming to an end, for all of its growing pains and lessons learned.

But it was early June, and the season stretched before the official high school senior like a wide expanse of unforeseen experience.

“I’ll be back. I’m going to go say hey to my friend,” Lexa murmured, leaving the conversation that was leaning toward making plans for some light practices. She had her own schedule, but her sister would tell her to join her team occasionally, and she’d take it under suggestion when it came up in the group chat, she was certain.

Alone at the keg, a familiar face hovered in line before accepting a cup handed over by a boy from her history class. Lexa chuckled and tapped Luna’s shoulder before earning an elbow in her side.

“Didn’t expect to see you around,” Lexa teased.

“Yeah, well, I had to see what it was about. See if I really was missing anything.”

“What do you think?”

“Very conventional high school party vibes,” Luna shrugged, unimpressed by the display. “Kind of weird to see everyone outside of school.”

“Yeah, it never really gets normal for me, but it’s kind of nice to relax.”

“Gives me some good ideas and reference points for that script I wanted to talk to you about. The one with the murdering cheerleader.”

“I don’t know if I can do another horror movie,” Lexa disagreed, furrowing at the thought. “I’ve been working with Costia on this coming of age story. Might try to blitz it if she comes to visit this summer..”

“Makes sense.”

Luna nodded slowly to herself and turning to look back over the rest of the party.

“I’m just kind of not into horror. I really enjoy what’s happening in the genre, but I don’t want to create another one. I can help--”

“That’s not necessary.”

“Oh come on, don’t--”

“I’m not being like anything,” Luna shrugged and took another sip from her cup. “I’m sick of waiting around for you. We were supposed to be a team. The next Coens, the next Safdies, Duplass…”

“They’re all related. And men.”

“Yeah, well that’s all I have examples of because we were going to break it.”

“And we can. I haven’t stopped wanting that.”

“You suddenly have other projects. You want to do your own thing. You’re doing a documentary for the summer for Christ’s sake.”

Lexa furrowed, finally hearing all of the things she was still doing wrong for her friend, meanwhile she made the efforts she could. She invited Luna to everything, every party, every hang out, every movie, every all of it.

“It’s been fun to work with Cos. She’s like getting a sneak peak at film school, and--”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah?” Lexa furrowed and shook her head. She wasn’t sure why she was fighting with her friend. She wasn’t sure why it seemed to happen so often. She wasn’t even why it felt like she suddenly had too many people to answer to, when she was getting to do more of what she wanted.

But Luna stood there and huffed. She’d always been prone to a temper. She was the first to snap constantly, but usually at others.

“Hey Lex, when are we going to do another movie night!” a pair called as they walked by to grab drinks. “That was really sick. We should like grill though next time.”

“Yeah, think we can do something this summer?”

“Well, I don’t know when my next one will be ready, but we probably can,” she wagered.

“Let me know when you need me for something.”

“Definitely,” she smiled quickly before returning to Luna.

Lexa shrank somewhat under the look. But she took a deep breath and took a few gulps from her cup while she waited to hear from her friend about what a terrible person she was-- and she hadn't even told her about applying to a few other places. But all she got was silence, which was difficult to hear from the person that was supposed to be her person.

“We survived Junior year,” Lexa finally sighed. “We’ve created so many films over the past few years, I’m finally… Luna, I didn’t realize how miserable I was until I got --”

“A girlfriend?”

“Maybe,” she tossed her hands up and smiled at the notion. “Maybe until I found someone that made me want to be alive. I was sleepwalking. And last year was one of the best and hardest years of my life. But I’m not sorry I’m trying new things and trying to be happy. I’ve done nothing but try to drag you along.”

“Drag me, huh?” Lena scoffed.

“You know what I mean.”

“Do I?”

“Ugh,” Lexa groaned and rubbed her eyes.

The party surged around them, ever-growing because of the necessity of it. Luna shook her head, rolled her eyes and tried to keep a straight face, failing. She chuckled to herself and Lexa knew her well enough to know it was her bitter laugh when it hurt too much.

“I’m glad you came out. If you want to do stuff this summer, please let me know. I’ll be around.”

With that, Lexa grabbed another cup, leaving her old one behind and pushed off toward a group of Clarke’s friends to say hello and potentially find her girlfriend who finally texted that she’d arrived.

For a moment, Luna just watched until Lexa disappeared into the crowd.

Lexa felt the buzz and did her best to ignore her conversation with her friend. She chose instead to actually listen to herself-- that it had been a great and tough year, and that she was allowed to be happy.

It didn’t hurt that in the middle of talking to Raven about something to do the following week that arms draped around her neck and a body climbed half onto her back, kissing her neck.

“Hey, sorry I’m late. Mom was being… well you know,” Clarke grinned as she let her girlfriend stand up.

Lexa earned a kiss on her cheek then neck as Clarke hugged her tighter. She didn’t wait for any invitation, kissing her girlfriend and smiling, relaxing into the tangle they somehow found themselves in.

“Hey, you okay?”

Lexa offered a smaller smile, unable to shake away the feeling from her previous conversation with her friend. She just wanted to forget it. She wanted to be in this moment.

“Yeah.”

But Clarke sized her up, squinting in the soft light of the bonfire in the distance. Her arms hadn’t dropped from ringing around her neck. It was still a surprise that Lexa was suddenly feeling Clarke Griffin’s body pushed up against her own.

“Tell me.”

“It’s nothing, just Luna--”

“I’ll kick her ass.”

“No… I just…” Lexa shook it away from her head and mentally reset. She had Clarke Griffin in her arms, after all. “I’m fine. I’m happy.”

“Just wait til I drive you home later.”

“You’re going to drive me home?”

“Yeah. About time you let me drive the Bronco, huh?”

It was her smile. The singular dimple and the fire in her eyes, but Lexa nodded after gulping, because she was prepared to give in to any request that was coming her way. She really hoped it meant sex. She wanted sex, suddenly. As if in that moment it had suddenly appeared in her brain and she remembered how wonderful it was.

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

“We survived junior year and we’re seniors. Prepare to celebrate, Woods.”

“I can do that.”

“Good.”

XXXXXXXXX

“I’m so glad you have a big car,” Clarke sighed as she tried to catch her breath. Lexa chuckled against her neck and kissed her chest again.

The backseat of the Bronco was warm, the windows rolled down halfway didn’t seem to help the two bodies together in various states of not-that-undressed.

“I was thinking about this the entire night,” Lexa murmured to the hollow of her girlfriend’s throat. Hands dug into her hair and tugged her closer and into another kiss.

“I know,” Clarke grinned against her lips.

“How?”

“You have a very intense look. And you kept your hands on me a lot more than usual.”

“I like touching you,” Lexa shrugged.

“And you’re very good at it.”

Clarke moved to pull back only to zip up her shorts. Lexa flopped against the back seat and watched the girl in her lap tug her shirt back on. This was her life now. She got to give Clarke Griffin, head cheerleader and resident badass, orgasms in the back of her car-- the same car she helped build.

“It has nothing to do with you getting frustrated by Luna before I got there?”

“Not at all.”

“Because if you want to work your frustrations out through sex, I’m all for it and probably will do the same at some point.”

Lexa smiled and rubbed her thumbs along Clarke’s thighs, currently straddling her, while Clarke massaged behind her ears, hearing a soft hum she couldn’t control. She liked when Clarke held her head up for it. It took off so much burden, or at least that was what she liked to think.

“I’m just kind of… over it? That sounds mean and bad. But this was a great year, and Luna wants to do things I don’t want to do. I have so many things I’m interested in, and… I don’t know. I have to be smart with my time.”

“Yeah, it’s okay,” Clarke promised. Even in the dim light of the side street they were on, Lexa loved her eyes. “You’re a good friend.”

“Doesn’t feel that way.”

“If Luna called you right now, you’d run to help her, even after this little spat you had. I know you would, so don’t try to deny it. You’re navigating a whole life and she is too. It would be hard to have a plan and have someone start to deviate from it.”

“I…” Lexa took a deep breath and leaned her forehead against Clarke’s shoulder with a sigh. “I didn’t used to have all these thoughts and wants and like.. My own plan. It just kind of happened.”

“And there’s nothing wrong with that.”

Clarke rubbed her back and kissed her cheek. Lexa loved her hands and how they were always on her, rubbing, soothing, finding, holding, touching, grabbing. It didn’t matter what was happening, or what they were doing-- Clarke was touching, soothing, searching. Lexa never considered herself someone for touch, but it was wonderfully perfect to feel her girlfriend sometimes.

“Then why do I feel guilty?”

Clarke pushed the hair from her face. Lexa wanted to go back to the kissing part, where Clarke was a firecracker in her lap and Lexa was terrified in the best way. But instead, Clarke smiled at her softly and searched her face, as if she couldn’t find the answer either.

“Because you’re you. You’re fiercely loyal and value people. It’s kind of what made me like you in the first place. You were helping Gus, even though you also had soccer and track and debate and academic decathlon and student government. And that was before I knew you were building a car from the tires up. But you did it because you love Gus and you wanted him to succeed.”

“You give me too much credit.”

“Maybe you don’t give yourself enough.”

“Can we just… Last year was the best year of my life. Can we have the best summer of our lives? We can apply to colleges in the fall, and worry about senior stuff later. I just want to be very alive in this moment. I have to-- I can’t explain it-- I just… I have to make up for everything I’ve missed.”

“God, I love when you’re… just… this,” Clarke hummed, cupping her cheeks, making Lexa make a face. “I don’t know what it is, but you’re just very Lexa in this moment and it makes my heart swell.”

Lexa smiled a goofy smile, as best she could at least, with her cheeks smooshed together. She earned a kiss on her cheek and her lips and her nose.

“Best summer ever, coming up,” the girl in her lap whispered as Lexa held her tighter, squeezing her closer.

XXXXXXXXXX

There was a list.

Lexa was good at making lists. She liked making lists, in fact. She spent much of her downtime meticulously crafting lists. Ranking Paul Thomas Anderson’s Films. Best Disaster Movies. Movies for Clarke to Watch. Her letterboxd was a ridiculous thing to behold, but so were her spreadsheets. She had daily and weekly and monthly plans. She had film schedules and school schedule and now internship and work schedules. She craved the feeling of making things fit properly into a date block on her calendar.

But she had other lists too. These were more private lists hidden on the notes app on her phone. The Sex List. This was a new one, and one she was eagerly filling with things she very desperately wanted to try with Clake. The Travel List. Places she wanted to visit.

The Aden List. That was one of her favorites that she referenced often to see what she could do to finish it for him. Some things were decades away-- have a baby, get married,. Some were silly- Go to Antarctica. See a certain band in concert. Have a montage summer.

That was where her current list obsession stemmed, because finally, everything lined up for her perfect, montage worthy summer. Some of their favorite movies growing up made her cringe now that her palette had become refined; really film major pretentiousness dug into her bones, but she never forgot. Adventureland. Dazed and Confused. Fast Times at Ridgemont High. The Girl Nextdoor. Sixteen Candles. Dirty Dancing. The Chocolate War. 10 Things I Hate About You. Summer Catch. Ghost World. American Pie. Rushmore.

She was two days into summer break and Lexa mentally crossed off boring summer job as she sat in the lifeguard stand and watched the kids and parents enjoying the community pool. This was the job that would help her save up for college and dates and such. A new giant external hard drive, too. And Clarke’s birthday was in the fall. Lexa needed money, and this fit in well enough with her internship, which was, as they say, paid for in the weakest currency when it came to making purchases-- experience.

“Hey! No running!” Lexa growled as a gaggle of kids sprinted around the corner toward the diving board.

She hid behind her sunglasses and twirled her rope whistle with just a flick of her wrist. The sun was baking her, even with the umbrella, but it felt kind of nice.

Drive in movie night, camping, floating, mini-golf, museum trip, road trip, concerts. The world was open to all the possibilities that was a summer.

But yet again, Lexa had not counted on Clarke Griffin.

She was only halfway through her shift when her girlfriend walked in, gaggle of her friends following. Clarke held her hand up to shield her eyes as she surveyed for Lexa. The lifeguard gulped and suddenly felt too hot. Overheated. Burning alive.

The group picked a plot of grass and spread out towels, dumping bags and snacks in a pile. Lexa wasn’t sure if Clarke knew she was watching, but she couldn’t look away. She watched as Clarke tugged off her shirt, revealing a bikini top that would, and she already knew this, star in many a daydream of Lexa’s. And then the shorts were tugged down and hair pulled up and Lexa decided green was her favorite color because of how it looked on Clarke. Anxiously she tapped her thumb on the arm of the chair and looked away, surveying the pool, per her agreement to be employed.

It didn’t last long though, and soon she was watching Clarke again, helping put lotion on her friend’s shoulders and receiving some help herself. Lexa wanted to. She wanted to know what her shoulders felt like with the heat of the sun. She very much wanted to kiss Clarke in that moment. Rough, and eager and perhaps more daring than she was used to.

But she remained stoic, not at all watching for drowning kids, but instead focusing on Clarke making her way over to her stand while her friends jumped in the pool.

“You look cute in that red suit,” Clarke grinned, leaning against the wood of the seat.

“You look good in that,” Lexa muttered, still looking at the pool.

“Thought I’d surprise you and sneak some pool time in before work, you know. Since you do it to me at the diner all the time.”

“I don’t wear a bikini while I do it.”

“If only,” she chuckled. “Want to come over and watch a movie tonight when I get off?”

“Very much,” Lexa smiled eagerly.

“Can I have a kiss?”

It was sweet and delicious sounding, and Lexa stood only to bend over the edge while Clarke climbed up a few rungs on the ladder.

“You might be the reason some kid drowns today. You and that bikini.”

“Shut up.”

“I’m serious. That’s… you look…”

“Get back to work, Woods,” she shook her head, dismissing any form of compliments that Lexa could barely create. “I’ll grab you a water or something from the snack stand.”

Lexa settled into her chair and watched Clarke go back to the other side of the pool.

One hell of a summer, indeed.