Chapter 5
“Pass me the salt, will you?”
Clarke is not even looking up and neither is Raven. She shoves the salt shaker in Clarke’s general direction, who picks it up and puts some salt onto her plate while she turns the page of the book with her other hand. She pushes her fork onto her plate without looking and when she brings it to her mouth it’s empty.
A small growl comes out her mouth and Raven looks up from her mobile and grins.
“Maybe you should put down that book as long as you’re eating?”
“I can’t. I’m in the middle of the showdown.”
“Clarke, you do realize that it’s a book and not a movie, right?
The story won’t go on without you if you put it down.”
Clarke frowns and nods.
“Yeah, I know.”
She puts the book down and eats. Her food is almost cold by now.
“What are you reading anyway?”
Raven grabs the book and turns it around.
“’The Betrayal’ by Lexa Woods. It’s that bad, huh?”
“What do you mean?”
Clarke manages to put the last of her peas onto the fork and carefully balances them into her mouth.
“You’re reading Lexa’s books.”
“So?”
“Just saying …”
Raven grins and puts the book back down.
“So, is it any good?”
“It’s fucking brilliant. I don’t think I’ve ever read anything this fast.”
“Does that mean that you will spend the night reading? I was hoping we could hang out?”
Clarke doesn’t really know how to answer. She loves to spend time with Raven, but she really wants to finish the book.
“Can I take a raincheck? Just this once?”
“So it is that bad!”
Raven laughs.
“Well, she dumped the movie star for you, so …”
“She didn’t dump anyone for me. … At least that’s what she said.”
“But you are planning on going out with her, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
Clarke thinks about Lexa in her hoodie with her hair in a ponytail and it’s clear that her answer is a thousand times yes. She has no idea why, but even all sweaty and without makeup Lexa is still the most intriguing thing she’s ever seen.
“She said she would call.”
Raven looks at her.
“Bellamy gave you her number, didn’t he?”
“Yes.”
“But you are still going to wait for her to call?”
“Yes.”
Raven sighs.
“You’re a disgrace for feminism.”
“Lexa and I are both women. I fail to see what who calls whom first has to do with feminism?”
“What I mean is, that there is no reason whatsoever for you to wait and not call her yourself.”
Clarke considers this for a moment and Raven is probably right. But Lexa said she would call and she doesn’t want to blow it by coming across as too eager.
She shakes her head and picks up the book.
“Yeah, I know, but she said she’d call.”
----
At 10 p.m. Clarke is still sitting on her chair reading the last few pages of Lexa’s book. Raven went home hours ago and it’s getting late, but Clarke really wants to finish this. She turns the last page and feels a few tears rolling down her cheeks.
The heroine dies. She hates this. She gives her life to save her lover, but Clarke still hates it. What the fuck, Lexa?
She grabs her phone, opens her text messages and types.
---
It’s 10.05 p.m. when Lexa picks up the phone. She doesn’t know why, but it is something that can best be described as some kind of magnetic pull that makes her do it. As soon as it’s in her hand it’s buzzing and shows a new message. She opens it.
CLARKE: “Why the hell did you kill Zoe?! You just made me cry!”
Lexa stares at the message for the longest time, trying to make sense out of what she’s reading. She didn’t kill anyone as far as she can remember.
Who is Zoe?
Suddenly it hits her. The heroine of her first book is called Zoe.
And she is shot in the end. So Clarke is reading her books?
She smiles and starts to type.
LEXA: “I am sorry if I am responsible for any pain you might feel, Clarke. It was my first book. I was young and didn’t know any better.”
Clarke reads the message and grins.
CLARKE: “At least you let her die in her lover’s arms. Not that this redeems you in any way.”
Lexa laughs and thinks about the best response to that.
LEXA: “In my defense: She dies a hero and her lover becomes the protagonist in the next book.”
CLARKE: “If it doesn’t start with Emma grieving properly I might be obligated to kick your ass.”
There is a moment without answer and for a second Clarke is afraid she might have taken the banter too far, but then her phone buzzes again.
LEXA: “It has a time jump … It’s a little hard to explain without giving spoilers. Maybe I could take you out to dinner to make amends for making you cry and we can discuss my work?”
Clarke looks at the message and smiles. Lexa is smooth.
She thinks about her answer.
CLARKE: “To fully make it up to me there will have to be dessert, too …”
LEXA: “Deal.”
Clarke smiles some more.
CLARKE: “Does this conversation mean, that you won’t call me tomorrow?”
She stares at the little bubble indicating that Lexa is writing something.
LEXA: “Well, you started texting me, so technically I still owe you a call.”
Clarke frowns.
CLARKE: “You don’t have to call …”
Lexa stares at the last message and curses herself. It sounds like she doesn’t want to call Clarke.
LEXA: “But I do want to call you. I would right now, but it’s getting late …”
Clarke looks at her watch. It’s her father’s and it’s very old, but she wouldn’t trade it in for anything.
CLARKE: “You’re right. I should go to sleep now. Will you call me tomorrow? I’ll be home at about 5 p.m.”
Lexa taps her fingers on her leg and thinks.
Clarke fears that she is moving too fast again, so she types a new message.
CLARKE: “To make arrangements for dinner?”
Lexa looks at the text and smiles.
LEXA: “Clarke, I would love to call you tomorrow. Even without making arrangements.
Go to sleep now. Sweat dreams.”
Clarke looks at the message and smiles.
CLARKE: “Sweat dreams, Lexa Woods.”