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“I’m not drinking,” Lexa says, tugging open the door to Anya’s fridge. Anya scoffs and Lexa frowns into the fridge light. “I’m not,” Lexa calls out, her tone firmer.
“I never said you had to drink, Lex, now just get me a goddamn cider and so I can start the show.”
“Fine,” Lexa huffs, grabbing a bottle of pear cider. She hesitates and sighs before grabbing another and swinging the fridge door closed.
“I thought you weren’t drinking,” Anya drawls. Lexa rolls her eyes and hands one of the ciders over to Anya.
“You’re a bad influence,” she says, sinking back into the other side of the sofa. “Besides, I like this brand.”
“Mm,” Anya hums, twisting the top off of her cider, “now are we gonna start Buffy, or are you going to procrastinate some more?”
“Ugh,” Lexa groans, opening her own cider, “fine. I just—” she tosses the bottle cap into a ceramic bowl in the centre of the coffee table and shuffles down into a slouch, “I hate the sixth season.”
“Don’t we all,” Anya sighs and hits the play button on the remote. Lexa scowls at the TV and takes a sip of her drink.
Part way through the first episode Lexa's phone makes a plick noise, which she doesn’t immediately recognise. Anya hums her disapproval around the mouth of her bottle and Lexa rolls her eyes as she leans forward, grabbing her phone from the coffee table.
The notification on her lock screen tells her it’s from Snapchat, that someone named griffine92 has sent her a snap. Figuring it’s one of the dozen or so people who added her after Octavia featured her on the gym’s Snapchat a few weeks back, she debates opening the snap immediately. It’s probably something fitspo-y, like a smoothie or some shaky cam style video of a workout routine. Anya makes another tsk-ing sound and Lexa shoots a glare Anya’s way before unlocking her phone and opening the app.
Now she’s definitely going to look at whatever it is, just to spite her cousin.
She glances at Anya one last time and, figuring she’s about to enjoy a nicely arranged kale salad, and then clicks the new name.
It is...definitely not a kale salad that appears on her phone screen.
Thankfully her reflexes are fast so she angles the phone screen away from Anya in a way that doesn’t really look weird. She hopes. Because the image on her screen is... good grief.
Blond hair, curled over the shoulders of a practically see-through white blouse that’s unbuttoned to expose a little cleavage. The hem of the shirt is riding up where the mystery girl’s arm is raised and Lexa makes out lacy navy blue boy shorts and the start of a tanned thigh. The snap lasts for 10 seconds and Lexa’s eyes rove the picture, collecting every detail, until it disappears from her screen.
The caption reads ‘is this appropriate for a wake?’ with the thinking emoji.
Lexa’s brain has stopped working.
“Earth to Lexa. Come in, little cuz.”
Lexa feels something cold and wet against her forearm. It’s enough to yank her out of the horny lesbian trance she’s slipped into. She jerks her arm and almost tips Anya’s cider out of her cousin’s hand.
“Dude!”
“Maybe don’t put your cold, wet bottle on my arm,” Lexa snaps, wiping her arm against the back couch cushion.
“Whatever,” Anya rolls her eyes and gestures at the TV, “are you going to pay attention?”
“It’s not like I haven’t already seen all of this,” Lexa mutters, but just earns one of Anya’s patented glares. Lexa huffs, “fine,” and makes a point of looking at the TV.
She tries to put the snap out of her mind and refocus on the show. She and Anya have been planning to pick their Buffy marathon back up for months, and this is the first time she’s gotten one-on-one time with her cousin since she started dating Octavia. But no matter how hard she tries, Lexa’s focus slips and she’s back to thinking about cleavage and lacy blue underwear. Anya doesn’t say anything, just gives her a sour look when she shows Lexa out around midnight, and Lexa reckons she’ll be treated to some cold shoulder for the next couple of days as payback.
***
The next afternoon Lexa receives another snap from griffine92. She drops her forkful of salad and nearly drops her phone as she rushes to unlock the screen and open the app. It’s a purple box this time, and Lexa’s ears flush with heat as she makes sure her audio is turned on before taking a deep breath and hitting play.
Her shoulders droop a little when it’s just a video of a dog rushing through a puddle of water at a park. The camera shakes a little and the mysterious griffine92 laughs, the sound soft and hoarse, as a deep, masculine voice cries out about his pants. The video cuts off and Lexa lets her phone slip onto her desk.
She honestly doesn’t know what she was expecting.
Lexa examines her reflection, turning left and right to get the full effect of the running shorts. They’re shorter than she usually likes, but Anya’s always telling her to be adventurous and... well, she’s not vain but she’s pretty sure these shorts make her ass look amazing.
She needs input, and wishes she’d asked someone along because she’s not always a good judge of how clothes look on her. But technology exists for this very purpose, so she grabs her phone from her bag, opens Snapchat, and takes a picture, holding up the hem of her tank to show how the shorts sit low on her hips. She types ‘y/n?’ into the text banner and clicks through to the next screen.
She selects Anya’s handle without a second thought—hers is at the top with the little yellow heart next to a 15 day streak, anyway—and then Octavia’s. But then she sees another name a little further down the list under ‘recents’: griffine92. She thinks about the practically see through white blouse and the way the hem had ridden up to expose just the hint of lacy navy blue boyshorts. It was last week but every time Lexa thinks about it, her heart starts racing all over again.
Feeling bold for one second, she selects the little box near the screen name and, face flaring with heat, quickly hits the ‘send’ arrow before the feeling passes. She watches the main screen until the little arrows next to the screen names show magenta and then tosses her phone back on top of her pile of clothes without looking.
She then shimmies out of the running shorts and tosses them on the ‘no’ pile along with everything else she’s tried on.
She doesn’t need another pair of running shorts, anyway.
She purposefully ignores her phone for the rest of the shopping trip and ends up buying some new jeans and a sports bra without needing any input. She’s practically forgotten about sending the snap until she checks her phone as she’s leaving the shopping centre and sees four Snapchat notifications, one from Anya and one from Octavia, and then two from griffine92.
griffine92 replayed your snap!
Snapchat from griffine92
Lexa’s face flares with embarrassment that the girl had replayed her snap.
She didn’t even know you could replay a snap.
And then there’s the matter of the reply…
She checks O’s and Anya’s responses, first. They’re both in the ‘no’ category. Anya, because Lexa doesn’t need any more compression shorts, and Octavia because, “no one needs any more reasons to drool over your hot ass”.
Well, that’s sweet.
Her thumb is actually shaking as she taps the pink box next to griffine92. It’s not the blonde’s face, but a picture of a half-drunk bottle of cider held between tanned thighs clad in short black shorts. Lexa is almost too distracted by the legs to read the message in the text banner across the top.
ooh! you look amazing!
Lexa bites her lip and feels the heat in her cheeks coiling up to her ears as she hurries through the parking lot, bag thumping against her thigh noisily as she goes. After sitting behind the wheel for a minute, gathering her courage, she takes a quick picture of the bag sitting in her passenger seat with a note that says ‘went with jeans instead, thanks!’
She hopes it’s not weird, figures it probably is, but hits send anyway, because she figures it’s weirder not to respond at all.
As she drives home, she resolves to never let Octavia feature her on Snapchat ever again.
Something about the exchange over the shorts must open a levee because from that day on, Lexa gets snaps from griffine92 every day, multiple times a day. It starts off simple and then quickly turns into a casual back and forth, with Lexa always responding to the snaps with something of her own. There are plenty of snaps of the dog, whose name Lexa now knows is Jasper and belongs to her friend Monty. She always replies to those with a snap of Gus doing what cats do best, ignoring her.
While Lexa is almost always at work during the day, griffine92’s snaps are of library study sessions, lectures, and sunbathing sessions on a grassy quad. From the geotags on griffine92’s snaps, Lexa finds out that she’s studying at Johns Hopkins. Lexa can’t really do much from her cubicle in the middle of the boring part of DC, but she starts taking the opportunity to leave her building at lunch, just for the different scenery and snap options. They share lunches and dinners and sunsets—she’s not sure how sunsets in Baltimore can look so different from the ones in DC, but they do—and Lexa always shares clips from the gym which griffine92 always counters with a shot of medical textbooks or, worse, the foot of a cozy bed with the TV on.
She has all of this, but still manages not to know the girl’s name.
Until, one Saturday afternoon after synagogue. She’s fiddling with her bike chain in her apartment’s courtyard, trying to quiet the restless energy she always feels after going to services with her mom. Her phone plicks with a notification from Snapchat. Even though it’s only been a week of this regular back-and-forth thing, she’s already associated the noise with the mystery girl. She wipes her fingers on the rag draped over her knee and then grabs her phone. She slides open the notification and selects the snap from griffine92, her thoughts easily drifting away from the weird clicking noise the chain’s been making. It’s a video and, when Lexa taps it to play, the first thing she hears is griffine92’s raspy laughter from behind the camera.
“Mom,” the familiar voice sing-songs as the older woman the camera is pointed at takes a massive bite of a burger, “say hi to everyone.”
The older woman glances up mid-chew and narrows her eyes at the camera.
“Clarke—”
“Don’t talk with your mouth full, young lady!”
The woman’s scowl deepens and then the girl laughs and laughs until the snap ends and Lexa feels her stomach turn, unexpectedly, to butterflies.
Clarke, she thinks, rolls the name over and over in her head until it sounds like a mantra. She swears she’s heard the name somewhere, but it isn’t until she’s resetting the bike chain when it comes to her: Clarke! Octavia’s friend from high school. She’s the hot, smart girl with the wealthy divorced parents and a beach house in Cape Cod. She sits back on her haunches and turns the wheel of her bike, watching the chain glide smoothly around the gear, all the while piecing together the two people in her head: griffine92 and Clarke.
Her phone plicks again and, as she opens a new snap from griffine92—Clarke, she reminds herself—she wonders if it’d be inappropriate to ask Octavia if her friend is into girls.
Lexa’s phone vibrates inside her pocket and she fails at being calm and composed as she pulls it out. There are a few other notifications on the screen, but the only one she cares about opening is the snap from Clarke. Snapchat opens up to a chat screen where there are a few stickers from Clarke followed by a message.
Clarke
what are you up to today?
Me
I’m at a party...thing.
Clarke
‘thing’???
The texting is still pretty new, and even though it’s just through Snapchat and disappears once they exit out of the app, Lexa is still extremely self conscious about everything she does. How long it takes her to respond. Her strict adherence to grammar and proper punctuation. She wonders if Clarke thinks she’s too stiff, too formal, too weird. But it’s different from communicating solely through pictures, it feels more personal, and she gets a little thrill every time she sees the notification Clarke is typing… on her lockscreen.
Me
It’s just a get together at my cousin’s place. Her girlfriend impulse-bought a new grill, so we’re testing it.
Clarke
haha sounds fun. are you enjoying yourself?
Me
Of course :P
Clarke
prove it! snap me!
Lexa’s brain screeches to a halt and it feels like her face flushes bright red, but the little blue dot on the chat screen seems to scream I’m waiting.
She tells herself she can do this, she can take a stupid selfie. So she takes a deep breath and tries to discreetly take a picture of herself holding a bottle of beer. She fails, miserably. She actually can’t do this because she hates taking pictures of herself and her discomfort is immediately apparent on the screen. She messes with her phone too long and it’s awkward holding the beer in one hand, so naturally the pitiful display attracts Octavia’s attention. She’s on her like flies on honey, snatching the phone before Lexa’s even had the chance to close the terrible picture she’d just taken.
“Oh, ugh. Lexa. What is this?”
“A selfie,” Lexa grumbles.
“Wrong. How can someone so pretty be so bad at taking pictures of themselves?” Octavia clicks her tongue, but before Lexa can respond, she’s tapping away at her phone screen. “Say cheese,” she says in a high, sing-song voice and holds the phone up. Lexa frowns and Octavia raises her brows. “If you don’t cooperate, I will send this as a video, and then the hot girl will know how embarrassing you are.”
“Wh-what hot girl?”
“I’m not an idiot,” Octavia rolls her eyes and Lexa’s pretty sure her whole face is the colour of a beet, but she sits up and smiles, feeling exactly like she did every time she sat for a school picture: dumb.
“Jesus,” Octavia scoffs, “you suck at this.”
“You suck,” Lexa counters, sticking her tongue out.
“Hah! Perfect!” Just as it dawns on Lexa that Octavia took a picture of her with her tongue sticking out, O lets out a triumphant ‘ah HA! ’ and taps at the screen with her thumbs before giving it one final tap. Lexa is out of her chair fast, snatching her phone out of Octavia’s hands in one fluid movement. But it’s too late, the snap has been sent, and even worse, Clarke has already opened it.
And sent a message.
And replayed the snap.
And took a screenshot.
Clarke
you’re so cute!
Lexa swallows her embarrassment, hopes to keep it off her face because Octavia is still standing in front of her.
Me
Nooo. My cousin’s girlfriend took and sent it without my permission! She’s the worst!
Clarke
oh no! so should i delete the screenshot oooooor….?
Me
No, no. If you like it that much…
Clarke
i do! you look great.
no arguing with that ;P
Lexa is mortified, mostly because she has no idea what the picture even looked like, but that doesn’t stop her from preening a little at Clarke’s last message. She smiles and responds with a picture of herself from her nose down, tongue sticking out. Clarke screenshots that, too, and Lexa bites her lip to temper her grin.
“Honestly, it’s shameful that I’m the only one experiencing this train wreck,” Octavia groans, “you’re so lucky you’re hot.”
“O!”
“It’s true,” Octavia wiggles her fingers. “Make sure to credit me for getting you laid.”
“Shut up,” Lexa splutters, feeling the heat rise back to her cheeks. Octavia just laughs and winks before gravitating back towards the group of people standing around the grill. Lexa looks over and catches the curious look on her cousin’s face, but Lexa just shrugs and offers a smile, and then Anya’s attention is drawn back to the steak sizzling on the grill when Octavia pokes it with a meat fork.
Lexa’s phone vibrates and she looks down to see a new snap from Clarke. Tanned legs, crossed at the ankles, on top of a blue-and-green picnic blanket. At the top of the thighs there’s the hint of light jean cut-offs, and on the side of the ankle Lexa can see, there’s a partially rubbed off flash tattoo that reflects just a bit of light. The sky is blue, cloudless, and beyond the edge of the picnic blanket, the grass is green and looks soft.
Lexa longs to be there, stretched out on that blanket under the sun, close enough to Clarke that she can just reach out her hand and…
Well.
She’s not there. So it doesn’t matter.
She replays the snap and actually pays attention to the text bar on the top of the screen. It says ‘this is what i’m doing, btw’, with a winking emoji at the end.
She doesn’t take a screenshot, because she thinks it’s probably weird. It’s just Clarke’s legs. But she regrets it once the image has disappeared because it’s not really about Clarke’s legs — even though those are really nice — it’s about the image of being there with Clarke that Lexa wants to hold onto for a minute longer.
“Okay guys! The steaks are done!” Anya shouts from behind the grill.
“Okay!” Lexa shouts back and pushes herself to her feet. A few of the other guests move away from other parts of the backyard and Lexa follows behind them, grabbing a fresh beer from the open cooler before hovering near the grill. Clutching the cold bottle under her arm she opens the chat with Clarke and types quickly while everyone else is occupied with grilled meat.
Me
Thank you, by the way.
Clarke
for…?
Me
The compliment. I’m really bad at accepting those but um.
Yeah.
Thank you.
Clarke
oh! jeez. so serious, lexa.
do you say you’re welcome for a compliment?
know what. doesn’t matter. you’re welcome! i really meant it.
There’s a purple heart emoji at the end of her last message. Lexa’s not sure if purple means something different or special but it’s a heart and Lexa’s own skips into a rhythm that she can feel, hammering hard inside her chest.
She blames it on the fact that it’s been so long since her last, well, anything, and the fact that Clarke is so pretty and so nice. It doesn’t really mean anything because Clarke lives, well, not in DC, and is probably straight, and it’s Snapchat, for Christ’s sake.
It doesn’t mean anything.
She holds down on the lines of text in the chat until they’re highlighted with grey, so they’re saved, sends a grinning emoji, and then closes the chat window.
It doesn’t mean anything.
Lexa doesn’t think of how often she and Clarke snap each other. It’s become so routine that the constant back and forth has just worked itself into the fabric of her day.
Wake up, check the snaps from last night, and then send a picture of her face mostly obscured by her pillow, and the caption ‘why are mornings a thing?’ Clarke replies two or three hours later with a picture of her latte and a half-full lecture hall, the caption reading ‘why is med school a thing?’ At lunch she’ll send whatever she’s having and complain about wanting a cinnamon roll. Clarke’s reply will either chastise her (please, with abs like that I think you can afford one cinnamon roll) or whine about wanting food, period, because she’s in lecture, or lab, or the clinic. Still.
It goes on like that through the day until bedtime when Lexa sends a picture of her pillow with one of the many ‘good night’ stickers on top of it. Clarke is always up late, studying or hanging out with classmates, so she continues to snap through the night, leaving Lexa with a little story to catch up on in the morning.
And then the cycle starts over.
It makes the days go by smoother. It makes it a lot easier to get up and go to work. It makes Lexa happy. It couldn’t possibly be a problem if it makes her happy, right?
Until...well, it becomes one when Anya's over to watch the livestream of the Red Stars vs Pride game. Lexa's phone keeps making a noise every couple of minutes, plick followed by plick that Lexa is now trained to react to immediately.
They're not even fifteen minutes into the first half and Lexa's spent more time looking at her phone than the TV. Her phone plicks again, a picture of Clarke with her tongue out in response to Lexa’s gentle teasing, and Lexa chuckles before taking a picture of her TV and typing up her response.
"Okay, since when do you use Snapchat like this?"
"Huh?" Lexa jerks to attention and furrows her brows at Anya’s unreadable expression. She knows her cousin, she knows her faces, but she has no idea what this face means. "What do you mean? You know I use Snapchat."
"Mm, yeah. But, you just received a snap from someone. And then you immediately responded. I don’t even get a response for an hour. If I’m lucky.”
"Oh," Lexa gnaws on her bottom lip and then shrugs, figuring it couldn't hurt to tell her best friend-slash-cousin about Clarke. "It's just this... girl added me on Snapchat a while back when your girlfriend—”
“When Octavia hyped you up, I remember you being all flustered over your sudden popularity.”
“Shut up,” Lexa sighs, no bite in her words, “I didn’t get a lot of snaps from anyone until this girl sent me a snap of her in…” Lexa presses her lips together quickly and Anya’s eyes go bright with curiosity. “Um, and then we started going back and forth a little..." Lexa purses her lips, feeling silly, especially with Anya staring at her.
“Wait,” Anya tilts her head, “O told me about this. She sent her a picture of you at the barbecue, right?"
“Ugh. Yes,” Lexa shakes her head, remembering how mortifying it’d been, and then how her stomach had flip flopped when she saw that Clarke had replayed the snap and took a screenshot.
“So you got laid,” Anya says in a way that just sounds like a smirk.
“No… It’s…” not like that, Lexa wants to say, but instead she just shakes her head, “no."
"Okay,” Anya rolls her eyes and sits back. “Well, so, you just...what? Send her snaps of Gustus? The gym?"
“Sure…And what I'm eating...when I’m bored at work, and— Oh! We watched an episode of The West Wing a few days ago," Lexa says brightly.
"Via Snapchat." Anya looks doubtful.
“No, that was on Whatsapp, because you can use it on the computer and typing is—”
“Whatever,” Anya waves her hand dismissively, "so, it's like a long distance relationship."
"What? No. We're not—Clarke lives here," Lexa says, cheeks flushing at the lame whine in her voice. Her phone plicks again and she resists the urge to check it. Anya raises her brows. “Okay, not here here. Baltimore. She’s a freshman at Johns Hopkins,” Lexa clarifies with a huff.
"Oh my god she’s only an hour away?” Lexa nods and Anya squints, “And you two haven't met because..."
"She's busy with med school," Lexa finishes quickly, swallowing dryly. Anya tilts her head and Lexa fixes her bottom lip between her front teeth, glancing away from Anya's incredulous expression.
"Well," Anya says after a long moment, "that must've been one hell of a picture she sent you that first time, then."
"I don't know what you're talking about, Anya,” Lexa says defensively. “It's because she opened the line of communication. She’s...a friend."
"Sure, kid. Just...You remember what happened with Costia."
“How could I forget,” Lexa says in an even tone, but she clenches her jaw tight. Anya straightens her shoulders at the shift in Lexa’s tone.
“She lived forty-five minutes away, Lex, and you two fought constantly. And then when she moved to Germany—”
“I said I know,” Lexa snaps, feeling her whole body go tight with tension. “I don’t need to be reminded of how my last relationship failed, Anya.”
“I’m just saying,” Anya says, calmly, but Lexa can sense the warning edge in her tone. “All of this feels kind of familiar.”
“It’s not,” Lexa says, relaxing back against the couch a little. “It’s completely different from what happened with Costia.”
“Okay,” Anya says simply, spreading her hands out in front of her in a gesture of peace, “I just want you to be careful, little cuz. You’re the only family I have.”
“Um, your parents?”
“Yeah,” Anya shrugs and sits back in the arm chair, kicking her heels up and propping them up on the coffee table, “they suck.”
Lexa chuckles, but can’t offer much of an argument.
Plick.
Lexa grabs her phone on instinct and Anya scoffs, but without a hint of anger.
"I am being careful, okay?" Lexa says, looking at Anya. “But I’m also happy.”
“Alright,” Anya sighs, waving her hand lightly at Lexa’s phone. “Be happy, then.” Lexa smiles gratefully and swipes open the Snapchat notification. It’s close up of Clarke's lips painted a dark red and then watches as the first image disappears and is replaced by second image, this time it’s Clarke’s blond locks done in a tousled 30s Hollywood glam style. Lexa hums thoughtfully and double taps to reply as Anya unmutes the game.
Plick.
Lexa opens her eyes a sliver and looks across the empty side of her bed to the phone charging on her nightstand. She can tell that the screen is lit up from where she’s lying.
Plick.
Lexa knows the noise. Knows the only person who would snap her after midnight is Clarke. She scoots across her bed, swipes her phone from the bedside table, and squints at the screen.
Clarke is typing…
Snapchat from Clarke!
Lexa disconnects her phone from the charger and scoots back across to her side of the bed. She figures, why not, it’s Saturday. Tomorrow’s laundry day, anyway.
Clarke
Leeeexxxxxaaaa wake uuuup
pleeeeease
Me
I’m up, I’m up! Is everything okay?
Clarke
oh yeah. i’m just bored. studying is boring.
blood is boring.
Me
I thought you were prepping for your microbiology final this weekend!
Clarke
we study blood in microbiology, lexa.
Lexa chuckles and rolls over onto her stomach, propping herself up on her elbows so it’s easier to text.
Clarke
keep me company?
Me
Wouldn’t that be distracting?
Clarke
maybe, but… i’m
i’m just
okay
i’m actually a little freaked out about this test and i need to calm down or i’m never going to focus.
For a second, Lexa imagines meeting Clarke at the coffee shop she’s set up house at somewhere off campus. She could totally drive up to Baltimore in 30 minutes at this time of night...
Clarke
can we talk on the phone? even if it’s just for twenty minutes it’d really help
Me
Oh! Yeah! Sure.
Whatsapp?
Lexa watches as the little blue circle disappears from the Snapchat chat window that indicates Clarke’s closed the chat window. A few seconds later, her phone starts to ring.
Incoming call from Clarke...
Lexa tries to slow the hummingbird beating of her heart as she clicks the green button to answer the call.
“Lexa?”
She’s actually never heard her name in Clarke’s voice before and it does things to her brain and heart that she doesn’t really want to think about. Instead she takes a slow breath and exhales before:
“Hey, Clarke.”
***
They end up talking for way more than twenty minutes. It was just after midnight when Clarke called and it’s past 2AM when they hang up. Clarke was half asleep and still had to drive home, so Lexa had convinced her to hang up by promising to watch their next episode of The West Wing together over the phone. She’s not really tired when they hang up, but she plugs her phone back into the charger and turns her bedside light off, anyway.
She ends up lying around in bed for 30 more minutes, thinking about Clarke. The way she’d said Lexa’s name, her overtired laugh, how anxious she’d sounded until Lexa distracted her with a story about a dog she saw on her run. It was nice, and Lexa almost wishes Clarke had asked her to drive to Baltimore.
It’s less than an hour, really.
But then, Anya’s voice filters up through her subconscious. This feels familiar. She thinks about Costia, how they had barely survived the half hour drive between their universities, and how they hadn’t even lasted a month of Costia being in Germany for grad school. She doesn’t think she has it in her to do it all over again.
But. It feels different. She feels different. And Clarke...
She sighs and thinks, maybe later, before turning over to go to sleep.
The first thing Lexa does when she gets into the passenger seat of her mother’s car is to open the glove box and take her phone out. She has a couple of notifications, but only one snap from Clarke. Her mom is still hanging out in the synagogue’s courtyard, chatting with some women from the choir, so Lexa goes for the notification from Clarke, first.
The picture on is of Clarke and her mother. It’s taken from a high angle, obviously by her mother, and she looks mortified because they’re using the puppy dog filter and her mom is clearly getting a kick out of being a Dalmatian.
Me
You and your mom are adorable.
Clarke
oh please!
my mom is the worst.
she says hi, btw.
Me
Oh! Tell her I say hi, back!
Clarke
you got it.
hope services were good!
Me
It was good! We stuck around for kiddush and I got trapped talking to everyone I’ve known since I was little.
Clarke
o no!
Me
It’s like they forget I didn’t just have my bat mitzvah last week.
Clarke
i would kill to see pictures from your bat mitzvah party
Me
Not even on my death bed, Clarke.
Clarke
we’ll see!
Me
Hmph.
Oh! Don’t let me forget to tell you about the terrible dad jokes in the rabbi’s d’var Torah. Talk about embarrassing.
Clarke
you got it. can’t wait!!
Lexa’s stomach squirms with butterflies and she doesn’t even try to bite back her smile. Clarke sends a snap of her own smiling face, this time without a filter, and Lexa doesn’t even hesitate to screenshot it. She’s watching the last few seconds of the picture when the driver’s side door opens and her mother pops her head in. The surprise makes Lexa nearly drop her phone on the floorboard of the car as she fumbles to switch to a different app.
“Who was that?” Her mother asks as she slides into her seat. She doesn’t look at Lexa, like she’s trying to act casual, but Lexa knows when she’s about to suffer a mother’s interrogation.
“A friend,” Lexa says immediately, and then,
“Oh, a friend,” her mother says, pointedly, and Lexa winces at the all knowing tone in her mother’s voice.
“Clarke,” Lexa offers. Her mother’s brows lift a little, but she says nothing. She checks her reflection in the rear view mirror before starting the car up and Lexa wipes her sweaty palms on her trousers.
“Well, you should invite her to shul sometime,” her mother says, suddenly, and Lexa’s caught so off guard she doesn’t really know how to reply. She just blinks at her mother. “What?”
“Just...why would I?”
“You’ve brought Octavia with you before,” her mother shrugs and starts to back out of the parking spot.
“She’s Anya’s girlfriend,” Lexa says dryly and her mother gives her a look that, annoyingly, reminds Lexa of herself. She’s caught herself making that same put upon look so many times before.
“Then why didn’t Anya bring her?” Her mother says, raising her brows as if to say ‘gotcha’.
“You know Anya doesn’t care about all this,” she gestures in the direction of the synagogue, “and Octavia was curious.”
“And this Clarke isn’t?”
“I don’t know, mom. And even if she is, it’s weird to ask.”
“Weird?” Her mother sniffs and Lexa cringes inwardly. “It’s just a suggestion, Alexandra,” her mother says tersely, “why must you fight me on everything?”
“Because,” Lexa sighs, “dad doesn’t even bother to talk to me, so I only have one parent to annoy and argue with.” Lexa smiles placidly. It’s sort of unfair to bring up her father, but it never fails to distract her mother from the topic at hand, and Lexa desperately wants to get her mother away from talking about Clarke any longer.
“Ugh,” her mother scoffs, “your father,” she rolls her eyes skyward and waves her hand. Lexa chuckles and allows herself to relax a fraction.
The rest of the drive back to Lexa’s apartment stays away from talk about Clarke. Instead, they spend the time discussing the parashah and Lexa’s plans for Shavuot. (Literally, the same plans every year, spend the whole night at the synagogue eating cheesecake and bantering with the rabbi.) When they pull up outside of her apartment, the wind has picked up and the clouds are a dark, churning grey. They usually idle outside of her apartment while her mom grills her on being a proper adult—does she have her laundry done, is there food in her fridge, and so on—but Lexa looks uneasily up at the sky and moves to get out of the car quickly.
“You should get home, mom. I don’t want you driving in this storm.”
“Please,” her mother waves her hands, but doesn’t argue as Lexa opens the door to the car.
“Just be careful, okay?” She leans across the centre console and kisses her mother’s cheek before sliding out of the car.
“I always am,” her mother leans over to squint at Lexa, “don’t think I’ve forgotten, by the way.”
“About?”
“Bringing that friend of yours to services,” her mother winks and Lexa feels everything go cold all at once. “Have a good rest of Shabbat, sweetie,” she says lightly, patting Lexa’s cheek. Lexa just nods and smiles, a little dazed.
She stands on the sidewalk as her mom drives away. Her phone vibrates with a text from Clarke. Lexa checks it just as a few fat drops hit the pavement around her.
Clarke
just finished having lunch with mom. wanna talk?
Stunned by Clarke’s amazing timing, Lexa jogs into her apartment building and, instead of responding, she just dials Clarke’s number. The phone barely rings twice before Clarke picks up.
“Hey Lex—”
“You have no idea how badly I want to talk,” Lexa says, as the elevator in the building’s lobby opens with a soft ding . Clarke laughs, and Lexa melts a little, marvelling at how good it is to hear Clarke’s voice.
“Then talk,” Clarke says, softly, the mirth of her laughter still clinging to her words. Lexa sighs and rests her head against the mirror in the elevator as it starts rising.
“Service was nice,” Lexa says, instead of ‘I’ve missed you’, and starts recounting the rabbi’s goofy dad jokes.
“So, summer vacation is coming up.”
Lexa is on the bus heading home, headphones in, and Clarke on the other line. She’s wiped from a long day of pointless meetings, but Clarke calling her as soon as she clocked off has made the stress of the day fade away until it was just dim static in the background. She feels relaxed and warm and at ease. It’s a dangerous feeling, but it’s so good Lexa doesn’t think about it too much. It’s just the best way to commute, these days.
“Yeah,” Lexa bobs her head, imagines Clarke maybe spending the summer in the city (which city, Lexa doesn’t know) doing an internship or something. “What, um. What were your plans?”
“Well, my mom wanted me to spend all summer shadowing one of the MDs in orthopedics at her hospital.”
“Ooh,” Lexa can’t even pretend to be excited for that, and Clarke just laughs.
“I know, right? She’s nuts. I talked her down to letting me shadow her in the ER for a few days before school starts up again and then I get to take the rest of the summer off.”
“That’s better,” Lexa taps her fist against her knee and wonders, exactly, how to broach the subject of meeting up. “So…” You’ll have some free time. Or: Maybe you could come down to DC, then?
“I’m going to Europe,” Clarke says quickly and Lexa feels the oh slip out of her mouth without having any way to control it. She can hear the disappointment in her voice and knows Clarke can, too. “I’m just...I know it’s a total myth that the summer between first and second year is your last summer for fun but, I can’t help but fall for the hype? And I mean,” she hears Clarke take a big breath and exhale shakily and Lexa wonders what she’s thinking, why she seems so... nervous . “I just don’t want any regrets.”
Lexa thinks about how much this conversation reminds her of the one she had with Costia about studying abroad, but she can’t really panic at the thought of losing Clarke to...to...what? She doesn’t have Clarke.
She’s being stupid.
And also not talking.
“Lex—”
“I get it,” Lexa says quickly, chuckling for good measure. She knows it sounds forced but, whatever. The bus pulls up to her stop and she swings herself out of her seat and hops off of the bus into the shade of the bus shelter. “I have my own regrets about not going abroad when I had the chance.”
“You spent like, all of your childhood bumming around Europe with your super rich parents.”
“And now look at me, I’m stuck in some white collar hell as a mid-level proposal writer because I decided to forge my own path. I haven’t seen Europe since college! Don’t be like me!”
“Okay, okay,” Clarke laughs, raspy and rich, and Lexa grins at nothing, “I won’t.”
“Good,” Lexa says, jingling her apartment keys and trying to sound sincere, “no regrets.”
“Yeah...no regrets,” Clarke says, sounding about as certain as Lexa feels.
Lexa gets plenty of snaps from Clarke while she’s in Europe, and now that they’re friends on Instagram and Snapchat, Lexa can follow her journey as obsessively as she wishes.
It’s fine, but it’s also different. She feels less connected to Clarke, like there’s more than an ocean between them. They don’t even get to talk on the phone, because Clarke and the friends she’s with are always on the move or sleeping in busy hostels or riding trains through places without a signal.
Okay, it sucks, actually.
But Lexa makes the best of it, countering snaps of the Arc de Triomphe with snaps of her morning bus ride or the Fountain of Neptune with the watercooler at work. She spends a long weekend in New York and one-ups Clarke’s pictures of bouillabaisse with pictures of a pastrami sandwich from Katz’s.
Still, she finds herself missing Clarke in the little moments she probably shouldn’t. Like right before bed, when Clarke’s already been asleep for four hours, or in the morning when Clarke is mid-adventure and Lexa’s preparing a smoothie before her run. She misses her in DC, eating a burger under a tree at the National Mall with Octavia, Zoe, and Harper. She misses her in New York, running across the Brooklyn Bridge just after dawn, and wolfing down a supersized bagel across the street from her rental before she has a shower. She just misses Clarke. The time and the distance between them feels more visceral and Lexa finds herself grumpier than she has been in years.
Anya notices it, and when she asks, Lexa doesn’t even have it in her to lie.
“I miss Clarke.”
“You literally just finished answering a snap from her,” Anya says flatly, looking utterly unconvinced. They’re at a pizza joint waiting for Octavia to finish her shift at the gym.
“I know,” Lexa shrugs, “but it’s...different?” Anya raises her brows and Lexa shrugs. “I don’t know how to describe it, it’s just...she’s so far away, and I know I can’t just go to see her?” Their usual server swings by with a new cup of Coke Zero for Lexa and a fresh beer for Anya.
“Oh,” Anya’s face shifts and Lexa can’t understand the look on her face. “Lex?”
“Yeah?”
“Are you in love with Clarke?”
“I—” Lexa’s whole face goes hot and she looks down at her phone with wide eyes. “We’re just friends.”
“I know you, Lexa. I don’t believe that for a second.”
Lexa swallows and continues to stare at her phone until it vibrates and the screen lights up with a new notification.
Snapchat from Clarke.
Lexa inhales and swipes open the notification, trying to ignore the feeling of being stared at. It’s a picture, Clarke’s beautiful, smiling face with a little smudge of chocolate on the tip of her nose and a cone of gelato in her hand. Lexa feels her breath catch and she doesn’t even hesitate in taking a screenshot of the snap.
She replays the snap and then purses her lips, still staring at her phone.
“I haven’t felt like this in a long time, Anya.”
“Lex, I—”
“And I don’t know if I’m in love with her, or whatever, but I know she makes me feel something and...I like feeling it. So I’m just...going to go with it for now, okay?”
Anya looks skeptical for a second but then sighs, “okay, cuz. I’m going to trust you on this one.”
“You guys haven’t even ordered?” Octavia’s voice cuts Lexa off before she can say thanks, but Lexa’s shoulders slump with gratitude. Her phone vibrates on the table and Anya gives it an unreadable look as she slides out of the booth to let Octavia have the seat against the wall. “I swear, it’s like you two don’t know the routine,” she scoffs as she scoots into the booth and then gives Anya’s cheek a quick peck once she settles back into the booth.
“We just put in for garlic knots,” Lexa offers, trying to shake off the weirdness of her conversation with Anya. “Is that alright, princess?”
“Damn straight it is,” Octavia grins, nudging Lexa’s shin with the toe of her boot, “now, stop looking so serious and let’s go ahead and start the pizza topping argument now so it’s not closing time when we order.”
It’s mid-afternoon on a hot Sunday at the beginning of July and Lexa’s sitting on her couch waiting for Octavia to reply about dinner plans. Jeopardy’s on the TV and she has her phone on her lap so she can see the moment she gets a notification, but she keeps glancing down and away from the TV, anyway. She’s not really looking for a text from Octavia, but a message, a snap, anything from Clarke. She looks away as Alex Trebek starts reading off a question and catches a notification just as it appears.
Snapchat from Clarke.
Lexa clears her throat and picks up her phone, tries to act cool as she opens the app and taps Clarke’s name.
The snap opens and it’s Clarke from the nose down, her tongue sticking out, and...and…
“Holy shit,” Lexa gasps and leans forward immediately. Clarke is topless. Lexa can see the waistband of a familiar pair of black underwear, but that’s the only thing Clarke’s wearing.
Clarke. Is. Topless.
The snap lasts for ten seconds and Lexa holds her breath until the last second counts down and the snap disappears from her screen.
She itches to replay the snap, but knows Clarke will get a notification if she does. She doesn’t know what the protocol is here, but Clarke sent her a nude, so she probably wouldn’t be too shocked if Lexa replays it. She reloads the snap and stares fixedly at the picture until it disappears from her screen, again. She’s pretty sure the image is burned onto her frontal lobe at this point.
It’s quickly evident that she’s not going to think about anything else for a while. The longer she thinks about the soft, tanned skin and the pale, rosy nipples, the stronger the arousal pulsing between her legs becomes. Lexa slides her hand down her abs, brushes the waistband of her jeans, and contemplates rubbing one out right there on her couch at 4PM, but right at that moment her phone chimes with Octavia's text notification and she has to wrest her attention from thoughts of Clarke and her ridiculously perfect tits.
(She reminds herself that they're just friends, nothing more, and that Clarke would never get turned on if she… Actually, it doesn't matter what Clarke would think of Lexa's nudes, because she'd never send them in the first place. So. That’s that.)
***
“What, um—” Lexa swallows hard and sighs. Octavia looks up from her food and gives Lexa a look that says ‘I’m listening’, but Lexa just moves her mouth like a goldfish, struggling to find the words.
“Spit it out, Lex,” Octavia has a french fry hanging out of her mouth and really, it’s making Lexa regret her salad, but she has more important things to think about like, what happened earlier.
“Well,” Lexa clears her throat and sits up a little straighter. Good posture always helps. “What do you do when someone sends you, um...a...nude?”
“A wh—” Octavia coughs and then laughs before catching the pained look on Lexa’s face. She sobers quickly and clears her throat. “Who...sent you a nude? Wait. Oh my god, was it the girl I sent that picture of you to?”
“Ahh,” Lexa sighs and scratches her forehead, “yeah. Her. She...I—I can’t stop thinking about it.”
“You haven’t had sex in literal years, so, that’s not surprising,” Octavia snorts and picks up another fry from her plate, examining it before pointing it at Lexa, “do you like her?”
“Yes,” Lexa says simply and Octavia’s brows go up. “She’s...special,” she offers as explanation.
“I bet she is,” Octavia takes a bite of french fry. “So, what did you say in response to the picture?”
“Uh,” Lexa bites her lip, “I… didn’t say anything.”
“What?” Octavia gawps and Lexa’s face crumples with misery. “Oh...Yeesh,” Octavia whistles. Lexa covers her face with her hands and she hears Octavia shift around in her booth. “Okay, okay, this can still be salvaged, dude.”
“Yeah?” Lexa drops her hands back onto the table and looks at Octavia hopefully.
“I think you should tell this mystery girl that you liked what you saw,” Octavia says simply.
“But isn’t that, I don’t know,” Lexa presses her lips together, “rather forward?”
“Unsolicited nudes are already forward, Lexa. Letting a girl know you liked her nudes is just polite. Honestly, it’s common sense.”
“Oh,” Lexa flushes and turns the intensity of her focus on her salad. Octavia laughs and Lexa reaches for her phone. “I’ll just...go ahead and let her know…”
“Good god, not in public,” Octavia hisses and places her hand over Lexa’s phone. “Do that stuff in the privacy of your own home, dude. She’ll understand if you’re in public and can’t respond just yet.”
“Right, of course,” Lexa shakes her head and slumps back into the booth. “Thanks for your help.”
“Yeah, yeah. Anytime, Lex,” she picks up another fry and uses it to point at Lexa, again, “I still get credit for you getting laid, though.”
“Oh ugh,” Lexa rolls her eyes, “if it happens, fine.”
“Excellent,” Octavia grins and nudges her plate towards the middle of the table, “now help me finish off these french fries.” Lexa lets out a grateful groan and pushes her salad aside in favour of the fries. Octavia just laughs and reaches for the ketchup bottle.
***
Do it, Lexa says to herself. She’s two margaritas in and all of her friends are being loud and rowdy around her. She has no idea what’s going on because she’s been thinking about Clarke, and her breasts, and. Well.
Clarke and her breasts.
(Who thinks of them as breasts, Lex?, is probably what Anya would say.)
Octavia said to do it at home, but then they got invited to the bar down the street by Anya and some of their friends and Octavia convinced Lexa it’d be good for her to socialise, get her mind off of Clarke. Well, ‘that girl’, but, whatever. Now they’re sitting in a dark bar where the music is all USA themed and everything they’re drinking—even the margaritas—is red, white, and blue, because it’s the weekend before the 4th of July and it’s America.
She’s just a little tipsy from the too-strong drinks and gets the feeling that she has to say something to Clarke, that it’s ‘now or never’. Lexa takes a gulp of water from a cup she’s pretty sure is her’s and checks her watch. She figures it’s extremely late where Clarke is, but that decides to take her chance, anyway. She quickly opens Snapchat before losing her nerve.
Me
Hey! Are you asleep yet?
Clarke
you’re in luck, we just got to our hotel.
Me
How’s Prague?
Clarke
it’s freezing!!
Me
It’s summer!
Clarke
i know! i miss capri already :(
Me
Me too.
Clarke
oh?
Me
Mhm.
Clarke
and why is that?
Me
Warm weather agrees with you.
Clarke
mm, i agree
Lexa inhales slowly and narrows her eyes as she types up her reply, willing herself to hit send.
Me
I actually can’t stop thinking about that snap from earlier.
Clarke
oh so you did see that?
Me
Uh huh.
Clarke
why didn’t you say anything, then?
Me
You make me nervous.
Clarke
oh really?
Me
Yeah.
Clarke
so...what did you like about the snap?
Lexa is so flushed she’s not even sure it’s due to the alcohol anymore. Taking another gulp of water, she glances anxiously around, and once she’s certain no one is paying attention to her, she turns her attention back to her phone.
Me
You know.
Clarke
mm, yeah, but i want you to tell me
Lexa exhales slowly in an attempt to calm the pounding of her heart.
Me
Well...your um...breasts.
Clarke
oh my god
Me
Tits?
Clarke
better
Lexa huffs, can feel the embarrassment spreading like hot fire across her skin. Anya would howl with laughter.
Clarke
go on…
Me
I’m in public!
Clarke
you messaged me, remember?
Me
Ahhhh
Clarke
okay okay
i’ll make it easy on you. is it something you’d want to see again?
Me
Oh god.
Yes.
Lexa wiggles her thumbs over the screen of her phone for a moment before taking a deep breath and typing out her response.
Me
It’s all I’ve been thinking about since then. Seeing them, you, again.
Clarke
is that so?
Me
Mmhm
Clarke
well, we’ll just have to see about that, won’t we?
maybe you’ll get lucky again
Lexa’s mouth is dry and her palms are so sweaty she has to wipe them on her shorts. She’s beginning to wonder how she ever handled flirting with girls in the past when talking to Clarke about this has her so messed up.
Me
I hope so.
Clarke
be good and we’ll see
Lexa’s eyes go wide and a hot thrill travels through her whole body. Oh shit .
Clarke
later, though. it’s ridiculously late here and i need to get some sleep.
Me
Of course! Sleep well!
Clarke
oh, i will. ;P
The conversation leaves Lexa feeling more drunk than before, like she put back two more margaritas instead of a glass of water. Her head feels fuzzy and her body is buzzing with electricity, so she makes a weak excuse to Octavia and Anya about being tired and ducks out of the bar after paying her tab.
Her phone vibrates as soon as she gets to the bus stop and when she looks down she sees a snap notification from Clarke.
It’s mostly a white pillow, but at the top of the picture is Clarke’s mouth turned down in a little pout. The text across the bottom of the picture reads ‘I wish you were here’. Lexa wipes the sweat from her palms and takes a picture of the bus shelter she’s standing under. She wants to write ‘I miss you’, but instead writes ‘I wish I was there, too’, and hits send before she has a chance to doubt herself anymore.
Lexa wants to suggest meeting up when Clarke gets home. She thinks, maybe by then, she’ll be ready to meet Clarke face to face. By then they’ll have been friends for five months and Lexa figures that has to be plenty of time to prepare for that, right?
But she’s still terrified that Clarke just won’t; won’t want to see her, won’t like her if they meet up, won’t. She also worries that Clarke will think it’s a come on, that all she wants to do is have sex.
Which. Okay. Clarke is hot and Lexa is undeniably attracted to her and she absolutely fantasises about her, but… She’s just not like that. And she doesn’t want Clarke to think she’s something she’s not. So she stays quiet, even though she literally can’t stop thinking about it. She stays quiet and angsts about it to Gustus when it’s late and she can’t sleep because she misses Clarke so much.
She’s sitting on her couch at 6PM on a weeknight watching the news on mute while she mows through a can of Pringles. She doesn’t stress eat but apparently she depressed eats, because the last time she ate an entire can of Pringles was after Costia got accepted to the university in Germany. She’d known her relationship was going to end, sooner rather than later, and wound up on Anya’s couch, stuffing herself with salty snacks, rather than crying or talking about her feelings. She can’t even bring herself to feel guilty about blowing her meticulous diet because she can hear Clarke’s soft teasing voice saying, “I’m sure you can afford a splurge with those abs.”
The thought of Clarke looking at her body, seeing something she likes, makes Lexa feel all hot and twitchy in the worst ways. She rolls her eyes as if to chastise herself and goes to grab some more chips.
Only to find the can is nearly empty and her hand in no way fits that far down into the tube. She groans and wriggles her fingers, trying to reach the chips near the bottom, and then realises how pathetic she must look. If Gus were awake, he’d be judging her. But, she’s gotten good at making light of her misery, so she pulls out her phone and takes a quick snap of her hand stuck in the can. She adds three crying emojis before sending it to Anya, Octavia, Harper, and Clarke, of course. She rests her phone on her lap and grumbles as she tilts the can to scoot the chips closer to her fingers.
Plick.
She pulls two chips out and shoves them in her mouth and swipes open the notification with her clean hand while she licks chip dust from her fingers.
Clarke
didn’t think you ate anything bad for you :P
Me
Oh no! My cover’s been blown!
Clarke
haha
btw, if you pour them out of the can, it’s way easier to eat them
Me
I’m not leaving this couch for a plate, no matter how sensible a solution that may be.
She follows the text up with a quick snap of the contents of can with maybe ten broken chips jumbled up in the bottom.
Clarke
oh! that’s easy, too. put the lid back on and shake it up, then eat the crumbs!
Me
...omg
She pops the lid back on the tube and shakes it. The noise is awful, wakes up Gus and scares him out of the room entirely, and she would absolutely never do it around other people, but when she takes off the lid and looks down into the tube, she’s greeted with a sizeable pile of Pringle crumbs.
Me
You’re a genius? Holy crap.
Clarke
call me your highness bc i’m the chip eating queen ;)
(also i miss american chips so bad why is europe so weird? i don’t want ketchup chips! bring! me! the bbq!)
Lexa laughs. It’s ridiculous but she feels so goddamn giddy. She sends a picture of herself tipping the can against her smiling mouth, and sends it to Clarke with the thumbs up emoji. Clarke screenshots the picture and then replays the snap.
Me
You saved that?
Clarke
duh. have you seen your jawline? you’re hot.
Lexa feels a little flutter in her chest, and then suddenly she feels brave . The conversation is light and easy and she’s never wanted to be sitting across from another person more than she wants to be sitting across from Clarke right now. But Clarke is somewhere in Europe and she’s probably missing potato chips more than the sound of Lexa’s voice, but all Lexa can think about is how her life feels incomplete without regular contact with Clarke.
She tips the last of the crumbs into her mouth and, as she’s chewing them, types up a response.
Me
You’re wrong, and I’ll prove it when you get back to the states, your highness.
Clarke
will there be chips?
Me
Of course.
Clarke
well, then you’re on!
Me
...Really?
Clarke
of course, lex. i thought it was pretty obvious i want to hang out with you. we live like, an hour away.
Me
Only if the traffic’s bad.
Clarke
see? it’s silly that it’s taken us this long.
Me
Yeah, definitely.
So...We’ll make plans when you get home?
Clarke
absolutely!
Lexa’s experience with this stuff is so limited that it’s possible that Clarke isn’t being sincere. But, then again, they’ve known each other for four months and Lexa feels like she has a pretty good grasp of Clarke’s personality at this point. She doesn’t think Clarke would be flippant with something so important.
She starts to think about the reality of meeting Clarke, seeing her in person, getting to hear her laugh unfiltered by the speaker on her phone or laptop. Her heart hammers in her chest and she feels a little light headed, like she got all the wind knocked out of her.
It’s so overwhelming to even think about but at the same time Lexa wishes time could move faster because she is so ready to be overwhelmed by Clarke.
“It’s awful,” Clarke sighs, and then there’s a thump like the sound of her body falling onto a bed. Lexa just hums as if to tell Clarke to continue. “I come home from Europe and my mom’s adopted a cat,” Clarke moans. “A cat, Lexa.”
“Is there something wrong with cats?” Lexa asks, casting a meaningful-but-unnecessary glance over at Gus who is snoring softly in a bowl on top of her breakfast bar.
“No!” Clarke says quickly and Lexa chuckles. “We’ve just always been a dog family, yanno?”
“Yeah, yeah. That’s what everyone says,” she says, wryly, and then clicks her tongue, “then, why the switch to a cat?”
“Raven,” Clarke says flatly. Lexa raises her brows. “She convinced mom it’d be easier to take care of than a dog, but still provide...I don’t know. Companionship?”
“Is she lonely?”
“I guess?” Clarke sighs and there’s the rustling of bedsheets as Clarke moves around. Lexa smiles, imagines her shifting around in bed to get comfortable.
“Then can you blame her?”
“Well,” Clarke takes a deep breath and exhales, “no. I guess I can’t.”
“At least she’s not dating, right?” Lexa wrinkles her nose, thinking about when her parents started dating after their divorce and how weird it was to ask her mom how her boyfriend was. It’s different for Clarke, Lexa knows this, but she tries to keep it light.
“I think she is, actually.” Lexa lets out a little ‘oh’ of surprise and Clarke hums, “I know, right? She was all flighty and weird while I was in Europe and now she’s like, walking on eggshells. I’ve been back for a few days and she’s made every one of my favourite foods, taken me to my favourite pizza place for dinner, and surprised me with tickets for Matilda in New York.”
“Oooh,” Lexa lets out a sympathetic hiss. “Do you know who it is?”
“Who cares? Some guy from the hospital, or whatever.”
Lexa doesn’t know how to respond and just sits there on her couch, jiggling her left leg, staring at the muted news broadcast on the TV. The silence hangs there between them and Lexa can tell that Clarke is working herself into a place where she’s going to shut down. It’s not the same, because Lexa hasn’t lost a parent, but she knows what that place can be like, so she’s scrambling for anything to keep Clarke grounded.
“Does it weird you out?” She asks as soon as the question pops into her head. “I mean. Does your mom dating again make you feel weird?”
“No,” Clarke says a little too quickly, and then after a beat, “kind of? I mean...” she huffs, something other than annoyance permeating the noise.
“You don’t have to explain,” Lexa says softly, “I mean. I’ve been there, in my own way, right?”
“Yeah,” Clarke mumbles.
“But...if you want to talk about it? I’m here.”
“It’s just…” Lexa can hear Clarke swallow, and then take a slow, deep breath. “If she starts dating, it’ll feel like she’s forgetting my dad.” Her voice is wet and hurt and Lexa’s heart feels heavy with longing to make that pain go away.
“Clarke,” Lexa murmurs, “your mom’s always going to love your dad, but he can’t love her back.” Clarke inhales sharply and Lexa winces, “she deserves to be loved back, don’t you think?”
“I…” Clarke sighs heavily, “yeah. Of course.”
“She’s not going to forget your dad. Neither of you will.”
“That’s definitely true,” Clarke says, her voice thick. She sniffs and then there’s the muffled sound of her blowing her nose. “Sorry. Was it hard for you? When your parents started dating again?”
“I was never really close to my father, but it really pissed me off when he got married barely a year after their divorce,” Lexa picks at a loose string on her shorts and jiggles her right leg. “It felt like he was just trading my mother in for a slightly newer model.” Clarke hisses sympathetically and Lexa shakes her head, “but with my mom it was just weird because she dated around. She’s still dating around.”
“Yikes.”
“Mm,” Lexa hums, rubbing her chin, “but there is one silver lining.”
“What’s that?”
“I have excellent coping techniques for when your mom starts having awkward ‘meet my boyfriend’ dinners.” Clarke lets out a weak chuckle in response and Lexa grins. “Seriously, I have so much experience here, Clarke.”
“Does it involve getting royally trashed?” There’s a lilt of hopefulness in Clarke’s voice that makes Lexa smile.
“Of course. How else do you survive any awkward family encounters?” Lexa laughs, and Clarke laughs with her. It’s beautiful, even when tinged with sadness, and Lexa relishes the sound of it until it finally ebbs into a sigh
“Thank you, Lexa,” Clarke says, “I think I really needed that.”
“Any time, Clarke,” Lexa says, earnestly, “any time.”
“I’m not a party person,” Lexa says a little too seriously. Anya is standing outside of Lexa’s apartment in a dress that shimmers in the lowlight of the hallway, her hair done in curls and pulled over one shoulder. She looks gorgeous, which makes Lexa extra wary about this party she’s trying to get Lexa to come to. “I have laundry to put away and TV to watch—” Anya’s upper lip curls and Lexa closes her mouth before she mentions waiting for her nightly phone call with Clarke.
“Yes, yes, we all know you’re boring.” Lexa frowns deeply and Anya sighs. “It’s a surprise party for Octavia’s birthday, okay?”
“But I thought—”
“Relax, cuz. Her birthday isn’t for another week, but Lincoln’s got that gym owner conference to go to so he’s throwing it at his place tonight.”
“Why didn’t you tell me that in the first place?”
“Because you hate surprise parties?”
“When they’re for me, Anya.” Lexa folds her arms across her chest and Anya rolls her eyes.
“Just come,” Anya sighs, “it’d make O happy to see you there.” Lexa purses her lips and Anya rolls her eyes, “I’ll buy you a six pack of cider on the way.”
Lexa was already planning on caving because it’s a party for Octavia, and Lexa isn’t about to be a shitty friend, but the free cider is an unexpected bonus. She does grumble the whole time Anya is helping her get ready, and the whole way to the party, including when Anya stops at a liquor store for cider. She opens Snapchat and swipes over to her chat window with Clarke to let her know she’ll have to postpone their evening phone call.
Her mood doesn’t brighten much when they pull up to Lincoln’s townhouse in the suburbs outside of Arlington. There aren’t any cars in his driveway and the house looks empty, both of which support the whole ‘surprise party’ thing. Anya keeps driving further down the block and turns onto a cul-de-sac where there are five houses in various stages of construction. There are a bunch of cars parked along the street, and Lexa grimaces as Anya takes what looks like the last available spot on the street.
“Don’t give me that look,” Anya says, without looking over at Lexa.
“I’m not—”
“We’re already out here, so just put on a good face and try to have fun,” Anya takes a peek in the rearview mirror, touches the corner of her eyes with her pinkie, and then glances over at Lexa. “Please?” There’s a softness to Anya’s voice that is rare and special and Lexa knows that Anya can’t fake that kind of sincerity.
“Fine,” Lexa huffs, putting on airs to ease Anya’s concern, “but I’m not even thinking about my diet.”
“No one will be thinking about that tonight,” Anya says, flashing her teeth as she moves get out of the car. Lexa grabs the six pack of cider from the car floor at her feet and then hops out of the car. Anya’s already hustling down the street, heels clicking as she goes. She doesn’t even look back but, as soon as Lexa’s door slams shut, the car locks and the alarm engages and Lexa cradles the six pack to her chest as she hurries to catch up with her cousin.
There’s a light on in the living room of Lincoln’s house, as well as the porch light and the light in the foyer. The quiet of the house would seem perfectly normal, except Lexa knows there’s a party going on somewhere inside, so the stillness just seems eerie. Anya’s fist is raised to knock on the front door when it’s yanked open and they’re greeted by a bright-eyed, smiling Lincoln. He glances over their shoulders before shuffling them inside. Once they’re safely in with the door shut, he pulls them both into a great big hug. He’s wearing a fitted burgundy button down that’s soft against Lexa’s cheek and smells like very nice cologne.
“It’s good to see you,” he says, and Lexa feels the press of his chin against the top of her head as he talks.
“You too,” Lexa manages, and Lincoln’s laugh rumbles in his chest and vibrates against Lexa’s ear.
“The party’s outside,” Lincoln says once he’s released them. He points down the hall that leads to the kitchen and, therefore, the door to the backyard. Lexa wants to roll her eyes, like they’ve never been to his house before, but allows him to play host. “Anya, since the birthday girl is your girlfriend, you’re in charge of the lights. Lex,” he glances down at the six pack clutched in her hand and beams, “you can put the ciders on ice and then find your hiding place.”
There are a handful of people milling around on the deck, and then a bunch of people out in the yard. Everyone is either from the gym or Octavia’s nursing programme, and Lexa only recognises a few of them. Anya is immediately surrounded by unfamiliar faces and Lexa takes the opportunity to slip away and follow the rest of Lincoln’s instructions. She checks her phone a few times while she leans against an unclaimed tree, but each time she just ends up slumping with disappointment. Still nothing from Clarke.
The surprise goes off without a hitch, of course. Octavia is actually surprised and she lets out a shriek once everyone pops out of their hiding places. She punches both Anya and Lincoln in their arms while everyone laughs and claps, and Lexa feels her mood lift a little because Anya’s face is all soft and warm with affection.
More people keep showing up afterward with food and more beer and, impressively, a pingpong table. She tries to stick by Anya, but it’s clear that Anya is in hostess mode, alongside Octavia and Lincoln. It’s a little too warm in the backyard, with all the bodies and the lights and Lexa gets one cider down before she gets overwhelmed and has to duck inside and hide in a bathroom.
Which is totally rude, because the half-bath off the kitchen is the only bathroom for guests to use, but on top of being anxious about all the strangers in the backyard, she still hasn’t had a response from Clarke in over an hour and it’s actually freaking her out. So she holes up in the bathroom with her anxiety, leans against the wall and lets the cool of the tile seep through her shirt to calm her down.
Her anxiety is starting to ebb away just as soon as there’s a loud knock on the bathroom door. Lexa jumps away from the wall, heart hammering high in her chest.
“HEY! I’ve been waiting out here for five minutes!” BANG!! BANG!! “Crap in your own home, some people gotta pee!”
“I’m just—” Lexa cringes at the banging, not really listening to what the other person is saying. There’s another loud bang and Lexa hisses, “hold on!” She steps over to the sink to turn on the faucet. She makes a show of splashing water on her face before cutting off the water and unlocking the door. She’s fully prepared to tell off the impatient person, but once she has the door open and she’s face-to-face with the person, all she does is gasp because—
"Oh my god, it’s you!"
Fuck.
It’s exactly the person she’s been waiting to hear from all night.
"Clarke?" Lexa says in surprise, holding her wet hands in front of her like she's taming a lion. A familiar smirk lifts the corner of Clarke's mouth and Lexa swallows against the feeling of her heart and stomach taking up residence in her throat.
"Guilty," Clarke's voice coming out of her mouth makes this all too real and Lexa wipes her hands off on her jeans instead of running away. "I was supposed to be in on the surprise, but I got caught up in the lab and got into town late. Didn’t expect to see you here!”
“Anya convinced me. I was planning on staying in and watching ‘Elementary’.”
“Ah, the introvert strikes again,” Clarke says with a quirk to her brow.
“Caught me,” Lexa bites her lip and ducks her head and she hears Clarke’s huff of a laugh and when she looks up Clarke is just grinning at her.
“I can’t believe this is how we’re meeting.”
“I know,” Lexa huffs, and then remembers one of their conversations while Clarke was in Europe. “I think I saw some barbecue chips over on the food table, though,” she grins broadly.
Clarke laughs at that, and the sound of it breaks whatever spell of awkwardness is hanging between them. Before Lexa can react, Clarke is pulling her into a hug, and all Lexa can do is rest her palms on Clarke’s back and try not to tremble.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” Clarke says, her breath warm through Lexa’s hair.
“Me too,” Lexa whispers, and squeezes her eyes shut, just to close out the rest of the world for a little bit longer.
A deep ahem from a guy standing behind Clarke shakes them back to reality and Clarke pulls away. Lexa hadn’t even realised someone else was there and grimaces in the guy’s direction.
“Sorry,” Clarke says, “I should...”
“Right, bathroom,” Lexa ducks her head in embarrassment, “I’ll um, I’ll be outside?”
“Good,” Clarke grins and Lexa feels herself smiling like an idiot as she shuffles out of the doorway to the bathroom.
***
Lexa hasn’t had nearly enough to drink to not be self conscious of every move she makes, every word she speaks, but then Clarke looks at her and it’s like a shot of 90 proof liquor and Lexa feels everything else go soft and dim.
She has no idea how Clarke feels, because they don’t really talk, they just stick close to each other and exchange looks while others are talking. Lexa feels skittish and calm at the same time, and her heart beats in her chest so hard she’s sure it can be heard over the stereo. She keeps wanting to say things, but good God she has never felt this shy in her entire life. Her brain is jumbled and confused and the three ciders she’s had aren’t helping settle matters at all.
They’re standing on the edge of a ping pong match between Lincoln and one of the muscle heads from the gym when Clarke takes Lexa’s hand and gently starts to pull her away from the crowd. Everything goes absolutely silent and still.
(Not really. There’s still the sound of the stereo and all the talking and laughter and, distantly, someone is chanting ‘CHUG’, but Lexa looks down at their hands and then Clarke is taking her somewhere and, God, she hopes Anya can’t see this because she will never hear the end of it but, at the same time, she doesn’t care because the girl she’s in love with has this look in her eyes that makes Lexa’s insides turn to liquid fire.)
They sneak back into the furthest part of the yard, where only a few strands of lights crisscross before they attach to a nearby fence post. The light above is fuzzy and golden and the air is colder further away from the chiminea and Clarke is standing so close that Lexa can smell her apple shampoo. It’s utterly intoxicating and Lexa finds herself leaning closer, just to take it all in.
She feels like she should want to say something, but that pressure to speak that’s been nagging in the back of her head all night just isn’t there. She’s perfectly content to stare at Clarke here in this private place. She can already hear Anya laughing at her when she tells her everything later, but that’s far away. Right now, Clarke is leaning closer and her eyes are sparkling in the light and her hands come up to cup Lexa’s jaw and then—
They’re kissing.
Lexa has daydreamed about this very moment for a lot longer than she’s comfortable admitting. She’s spent so much time imagining how it would feel to kiss Clarke and now it’s happening and Lexa just feels…warm. So warm it’s like her insides are shimmering with fire but it’s not even close to burning her up. Clarke’s thumbs brush Lexa’s jawline and Lexa sinks into kissing Clarke back with a sigh. Clarke’s mouth is soft and gentle and Lexa feels an ache in her chest like her heart is splitting all the way open and letting Clarke all the way in.
It feels like it lasts a lot longer than a normal kiss, but then Clarke is pulling away slowly. Lexa’s eyes blink open and she finds they’re still standing close enough for Lexa to brush her nose against Clarke’s. She does, and Clarke’s eyelashes flutter gently and her mouth turns up at the corners. Clarke’s hands are still cupping Lexa’s jaw and Lexa doesn’t want to breathe, doesn’t want to make a sound, do anything that might disturb the moment hanging between them. Her mind is already fifty steps ahead of her body, and while she’s standing there, suspended in the warmth of Clarke’s touch, her mind is already working over how badly she wants to do that again. And again. And again.
“So…” Clarke trails off, her gaze drifting from Lexa’s mouth to her eyes.
“Maybe…” Lexa exhales and bites the inside of her cheek.
“Maybe?” Clarke’s voice is small and quiet and her thumbs are still gently brushing the line of Lexa’s jaw. She feels like her whole being is cradled in Clarke’s hands at that moment.
“Maybe…” Lexa takes a breath and slips her arms around Clarke’s waist, drawing her close, “maybe we could go on a date sometime?”
Lexa holds her breath and waits, not really sure what to expect, but then Clarke’s face lights up and she lets out a laugh that sounds like relief.
“Definitely,” Clarke says softly, sweetly, just before pressing her mouth to Lexa’s again.