Chapter 2
“Is football a big deal here?”
Lexa tried not to laugh as they dashed the last few feet across Connecticut Ave, turning onto Raymond Street. “Pretty much everything but football is a big deal at BCC. We haven’t won a homecoming game in three years, but our ultimate frisbee team has a state title.”
The comment earned a chuckle from Clarke, and Lexa tried not to grin too widely as she added a mark to the mental tally she'd been keeping of times she’d made Clarke laugh. Lexa loved the sound of Clark’s laugh. It was deep, warm and honest, and that it had been elicited by something she said made the sound even sweeter to Lexa. Lexa could have composed sonnets dedicated to Clarke’s laugh. She could have written psalms preaching its gospel. There was truly no better sound in the world, and its charming melody was music in Lexa’s ears; the soundtrack to an almost perfect school-day that had ended in an impromptu walk home with her beautiful, intoxicating neighbor.
It had been almost seven weeks since the kiss, since Clarke had pressed her lips to Lexa’s and told her to be sweet, trotting away a moment later and leaving the brunette in stunned silence. Every time Lexa conjured the memory up in her mind, she could almost feel the way Clark’s lips had tickled as they the brushed against hers. When she was around Clarke, it was impossible not to think about the kiss, and even harder not to grin like an idiot at the thought.
The only problem was that neither of them had brought it up since. School had started, and before Lexa could make heads or tails of the incident, the two girls were caught up in a whirlwind of meetings, course schedules, and fall activities. Lexa was almost sure that Clarke was still interested, but since that night, the signs of Clarke's continued affection amounted to a handful of lingering glances, a couple of hugs that lasted a bit too long, and one kiss on the cheek.
On the upside, Lexa had finally managed to introduce Clarke to her friends. They had, as she’d suspected they would, taken to the charming new girl instantly. Lexa wasn’t surprised that everyone had liked Clarke. After all, what was not to like? Clarke was intelligent, effervescent, and she listened as much as she talked.
“So, I guess people don’t get into the homecoming thing either, do they?” Clarke smiled at Lexa as they hit the final few blocks of the walk home, noticeably dropping her pace to a lazy shuffle. Lexa slowed her pace to match, hoping that this was Clark’s way of deliberately prolonging their time together.
“People do get pretty into it. Granted, we lose the football game every year, but tons of students go anyway. Besides, the carnival afterward and the dance on Saturday are the real the main events.” Lexa tried not to sound too excited, as she steeled her nerve, ready to deliver her preprepare selling points regarding the dance.
Clarke glanced over at Lexa bashfully, looping her thumbs in the straps of her backpack, and fiddling with the fabric. “Oh, that’s cool, I guess. I never went to stuff like that at my old school.”
Lexa smiled at Clarke hopefully. “Well, maybe you should give it a try now that you’re here. It's usually pretty fun and the DJ they brought in last year was great. You would have liked the music.” Lexa crossed her fingers, tucking them in her jacket pocket so Clarke couldn’t see. The blonde didn’t seem sold on the idea at all, but Lexa had an ace up her sleeve. “They’re going to have a live music this year. It's an 80’s cover band.”
A smile appeared on Clarke’s face, and Lexa knew she’d said the right thing. Clarke cocked her eyebrow and pushed Lexa playfully. “Something tells me you don’t usually talk up the homecoming dance this hard.”
Lexa’s heart jumped into her throat, and she clenched her jaw, hoping that she wasn’t turning bright red. She had been so sure of her subtlety. “Um. I, uh…” She choked on her words, desperately thinking of something smooth to say. “I mean, my friends and I always go in a big group. We get dressed up and go out for dinner beforehand. Everyone always has a good time, and we’d all miss you if you didn’t go.”
“Me especially,” she added after a moment, swallowing hard at as they strode to a stop in front of Clark’s house.
Clarke was staring at the sidewalk and shuffling nervously; her eyes fixed on her feet. When she looked back up, she seemed worried but smiled anyway, giving Lexa a brief hug. “Maybe.” With that, the blonde girl turned, skipping up the steps to her front door. She turned, gazing longingly at the brunette and biting her lip. “I promise I’ll think about it!”
Lexa watched Clarke disappear inside her house and sighed. She hoped she hadn’t been too obvious, though she supposed it wouldn’t matter, come tonight. The girl was determined to ask Clarke to the dance either way, so there was no turning back now. She only hoped that she’d said the right combination of things to peak Clark’s interest. Besides, what Lexa had said had been true. Everyone was hoping that Clarke would decide to come, though Lexa had conveniently left out that they were hoping she’d come as Lexa’s date.
Lexa’s nerves began to buzz as she made her way up the path to her front door. This would be her first time asking a girl on a date at all, let alone a date to a major school event. She could honestly say she’d never been more nervous in her life.
Lexa made her way to her bedroom and carefully inventoried the items she’d laid out for that evening. Everything she needed was there, the sign, a flashlight, string lights she would be using to decorate the bay window. She took a deep breath. It would go well; it had to.
Like clockwork, Clarke went to bed every night at 10:00 PM sharp. She kept her bedroom window curtains closed these days, but the material was thin enough that Lexa noticed every evening when the lights turned off, and 10:00 PM was when Lexa would go to work. She had everything ready. The blinking, star-shaped string lights were hung up around the bay window. The sign was ready to go. The flashlight had new batteries to make sure it was shining its strongest. Lexa glanced down at the time on the screen of her phone. It was 9:56 PM, almost showtime. Lexa closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. She went over the plan in her mind one more time. She’d signal Clarke by shining the flashlight through her window, flip on the string lights, and hold up the sign. “Simple,” Lexa thought. “What could go wrong?” Lexa watched as Clarke's bedroom window went dark, smiling as she reached over and grabbed the flashlight off the bay window seat.
Clarke sat up, her bedroom suddenly illuminated by a beam of light shining in through her window. The light flashed several times, spilling through the thin curtains, and bothering Clarke’s eyes. The light faded completely, leaving the room in darkness, but a few moments it was back again, three steady flashes and then nothing. Clarke lay her head back on her pillow, only to be pulled from sleep again when the light began flashing a third time.
The blonde groaned, pulling the covers back and rubbing her eyes as she unceremoniously rolled out of bed. Cautiously, she crept over through the dark bedroom to her window and peeled back the curtain, determined to find the source of her irritation. Clarke squinted as the light flashed in her eyes one more time. She blinked, her vision adjusting slowly to the sight in the bedroom window next door.
Lexa stood in the center of the bay window, surrounded by a halo of twinkling string lights. She was grinning like a Cheshire cat, holding a poster-board sign, with with the words “will you go to homecoming with me?” written across it in bold, black letters. Clarke covered her mouth with her hand and took a tentative step back, shocked. A few moments passed, as she watched Lexa shift the sign nervously in her hands, shrugging her shoulders as though she thought Clarke might need clarification that the gesture was directed at her.
Lexa was growing more and more nervous by the second. She’d expected a nod, or a thumbs up, anything but the non-reaction Clarke was currently giving her. The brunette stared at Clarke, still frozen in the window, her heart racing as she waited for an acknowledgment. A second later Clarke walked out of view, reappearing, phone in hand. Lexa watched as the blonde held the phone to her ear, reaching for her own when it began buzzing in her pocket. She set the sign down and pressed the answer call button.
“Please, tell me this is a yes.”
“Lexa…”
“Or at least a probably.”
“Lexa…”
“Because I sort of already bought tickets to the dance.”
“Lexa I can’t.”
Lexa felt her heart shatter into a million pieces, the shards sinking into her stomach. The smile faded from her face, and she stood in stunned silence, staring at Clarke, unsure of what to say. Part of Lexa, a big part, wanted to start crying. Part of her wanted to turn and run. More than anything she wanted to ask why, but the words simply wouldn’t come to her.
It was Clarke who broke the silence first. She stood in her window biting her bottom lip, and trying to find the right words to let Lexa down easily.
“Lexa, that was so sweet of you but…”
“You can’t go?”
Clarke sighed nervously, watching as Lexa’s eyes became just the tiniest bit glassy.
“Is that… I mean, you can’t go at all?”
Clarke nodded again. “I’m very sorry.”
Lexa curled and uncurled her toes, clenching them in the hopes that it would help her hold back the sob that was building in her throat.
“Um, is it because you would be uncomfortable going with a girl?”
Clarke pressed her palm to the glass pane of her window and shook her head vigorously. “No, no. Lexa, I swear that that’s not the reason. I don’t have any problem with that at all.”
Lexa nodded. “So, you just don’t want to go with me.”
Lexa waited for an answer as she watched Clarke sigh and look down at her feet for a few minuted. The silence became awkward after a while, and Lexa began feeling even worse, sure that she had finally arrived at the right answer. Finally, Clarke looked back up at her, her tears threatening to spill over.
“Lexa, I do like you. I like you a lot, actually. Of course, I would go on a date with you. It just that, a homecoming dance…” She paused mid-sentence, looking down again, unable to hold Lexa’s gaze.
Lexa sighed into her phone’s receiver and closed her eyes. “Clarke, just be honest with me.”
It took a moment for Clarke to continue speaking. When she finally did Lexa could hear the tremor in her voice as the blonde did her best not to cry. “Things like homecomings and formals and the prom, they’re supposed to be this opportunity for you to feel beautiful. When you have a disfigurement like my scar..."
She sighed. "You don’t know what it’s like to know that, no matter how many hours you spend doing your hair, or putting on makeup, or picking out the perfect dress, all anyone is going to see when they look at you is something ugly. Girls like me don’t get to go to homecoming and feel beautiful, we go and watch people stare at us and whisper.”
Clarke was genuinely crying now as she gazed back up at Lexa. “Lexa, the way you asked me was so amazingly sweet, but I’m sorry. I just can’t go with you.”
Lexa mulled Clark’s explanation over in her head, letting it marinate there. She didn’t know whether she should feel better or worse. On the one hand, Clarke had confirmed outright that she did indeed like Lexa. That, at least, was fantastic news. None-the-less, Lexa felt awful to know the real reason that Clarke didn’t want to go. In some ways, she would rather have had Clarke tell her that she genuinely wasn’t interested in going out with her. But, to hear Clarke use words like disfigurement and ugly to describe herself was crushing. As far as Lexa was concerned Clarke was, inside and out, the prettiest girl in the world. That her experiences had made her believe otherwise broke Lexa’s heart. She sighed, searching for anything she could say that might convince Clarke to come.
“You couldn’t just wear a shawl, or a jacket like you do at school?”
“I suppose, but it wouldn’t be the same. Things like homecoming are meant to be people’s night to show off, and I’d just feel like I was hiding the whole time. Besides, people ask all kinds of questions, and eventually, somebody alway sees.”
Lexa swallowed hard, the realization that there was no changing Clarke’s mind sinking in. She let out a long, slow breath as she stared at the girl in the bedroom window. “Ok Clarke, I understand.”
“Lexa, I do think that the way you asked me was incredibly sweet. The sign, the lights. It was perfect.
Lexa nodded. “Thanks. I guess I’ll see you at school.” With that she, hit the end call button, reaching over to turn off the string lights and close the curtains.
George’s bespectacled eyes peered at his daughter over the top of the paper, watching her slump against the kitchen table miserably. She rested her cheek on one hand, using the other to push cereal around with a spoon. George folded the top of the paper down and furrowed his brow. “No appetite this morning?”
Lexa shrugged, continuing to stare off at nothing in particular. George’s mustache bristled as he shifted his mouth from side to side, anxious to get to the bottom of his daughter’s melancholy.
“You nervous about the game against Northwood?”
Lexa shook her head glumly.
“Worried about academic decathlon?”
She shook her head again.
“Right.” George folded his paper in half and creased it across the middle, setting it aside. “So, I assume this is about the Griffin girl then?”
Lexa didn’t answer, but the deep sigh as she folded her head into the crook of her arm and rested her forehead against the table gave George all the confirmation the needed. “I take it asking her to homecoming didn’t go as well as you’d hoped?”
“She said no,” Lexa’s muffled voice resonated from the crook of her arm.
George folded his arms across his chest. “Well, did she at least give you a reason?” He waited for the duration of a long silent pause, during which Lexa continued to hide her face, giving no indication that she intended to answer his question. For all his fatherly patience, George was completely unaccustomed to watching his daughter mope or engaging in displays of teenage melodramatics. Lexa was usually so steady and sure of herself. Though he knew that the high emotions were an inevitable part of a teenage crush, he had to admit that the histrionics regarding all things Clarke Griffin were trying his patience. His ability to wait out an answer finally gone, he leaned over toward her, his voice becoming sterner. “Lexa…”
Lexa finally picked her head up just enough to make eye contact with her father, glaring at him over her folded arm. “She doesn’t want to go because she’s worried about how people will react if they see her scar. Kids at her old school were nasty about it. They called her names.” She dropped her head back onto the table
George straightened up, his face shifting from frustration to mild bewilderment. “Other kids gave her a hard time about that?”
Lexa nodded wordlessly, and George frowned. “Well, that’s terrible. He paused, “you don’t think the kids at your school would do something like that though, would they?”
Lexa finally sat up and leaned back against the wall of the breakfast nook. She rolled her head towards her father and held his gaze. “I don’t think so. I mean it’s not like nobody ever gets made fun of, but on the other hand, BCC has a pretty strong anti-bullying policy, so people kind of leave each other alone.
Lexa thought for a moment, pushing her cereal around again. "Besides, I think even the biggest jerks at our school would probably consider something like a burn scar off limits as far as teasing goes. I mean, Genie Hodges had a pretty huge port wine stain birthmark on her cheek, and I’ve never heard anyone say anything nasty about it.”
George nodded, considering everything his daughter had said, and thinking about Clarke’s position. For a few more minutes, they sat there in silence, Lexa staring off into space and George lost in thought. Finally, he uncrossed his arms, folding them over the table top as he leaned in and looked at Lexa. “Do you remember Joshua Johnson?”
Lexa gazed over at her father blankly, running the name through her head a few times before she finally placed how she knew it. “The boy who used to deliver our paper when I was little?”
George nodded. “Did you know that he joined the Marine Corps?”
Lexa shook her head and waited for George to continue.
“Well, he did, right after high school. When he told his parents he was enlisting, they asked me if I would try to talk him into going into the Air Force instead, but Josh had his heart set on the Marines. Anyway, he ended up doing a deployment to Iraq in 2007. Three weeks before he was supposed to come home, his Humvee hit an IED.”
Lexa’s eyes popped wide open as the horrible image flooded her mind. “Was he ok?”
George jutted his bottom lip out and rocked his head back and forth a bit, considering the question. “Well, for the most part, yes. Everyone in his vehicle survived, but Joshua’s right arm was so badly damaged, that his doctors ended up having to amputate it above the elbow.”
“That’s awful,” Lexa cringed.
George nodded, pursing his lips as he continued. “MmHmm, Josh thought so too. He had a pretty rough go of it after they finalized his medical discharge. He came home, wouldn’t leave the house, barely talked to his parents. It took a pretty long time for him to come around, but eventually, he did.”
Lexa leaned in intently, her father’s story having pulled her in despite her best efforts to maintain neutrality. “What changed?”
George smirked. It was nearly imperceptible, but Lexa could tell it was there. “Well, someone very smart got him set up with an amputee group at Walter Reed. Once Josh realized that there were lots of other people out there facing the same challenges he was, and saw that they were doing all kinds of things he thought he’d never be able to do again, he started to come back to life little by little.”
George smiled and leaned in a little closer to his daughter. “Anyway, my point is that what Josh needed was to realize that he wasn’t alone. He needed to see that other people understood what he was going through, and empathized. Do you know why I’m telling you this?”
Lexa sighed, considering her father’s story carefully before responding. “You think that Clarke feels isolated?”
George nodded. “Homecoming or no homecoming, I think that it might help Clarke to know she isn’t the only one who feels like she’s got something to hide.”
George smiled, patting the back of his daughter’s hand and leaning back to grab his paper again. “Maybe, you could find a way to show her that she isn’t the only person who feels like she is different.”
Lexa watched as her father open the newspaper back up, returning his attention to the sports section. She mulled the idea over in her head before rising from the table abruptly. Lexa grabbed her cereal bowl, emptying the mushy contents into the garbage disposal and rinsing it under the sink as she looked over at her father, his nose still buried in the paper.
“You know, I think you just gave me an idea.” With that she dashed through the doorway into the living room, reappearing in the kitchen a moment later, as though she’d forgotten something.
“Poppa?”
George looked up from the sports section and locked one eyebrow. “Yes, dear?”
“You were the one who set Josh up with the support group weren’t you?”
George glanced over at her, setting his paper down on the table slowly and taking a deep breath. “No actually, that was your mother.”
Lexa cocked her head, her brow furrowing in surprise. “What? How does mom even know about that stuff?”
George gave his daughter a revealing look. “Lexa, That’s part of your mother’s job on the village council. She’s in charge of making sure that veterans in Martin’s Addition get connected with the services they need when they come home.”
“Seriously?”
Lexa seemed genuinely taken aback by the information, and George sighed, shaking his head. “Sweetheart…” He stopped, pausing for a moment to formulate his words in a way that would sound instructional but affectionate. “I know that you and I sometimes joke about your mother being a busy body, and I know that you get frustrated about how involved she is with the council, but the truth is that your mom is the way she is because she genuinely cares about people. Believe it or not, she does a lot to make sure that people around here are taken care of.”
Lexa’s demeanor softened with the realization that she had, perhaps, been judging her mother too harshly. She felt bashful, suddenly unsure of the correctness of her opinions. “Really?”
Her father pursed his lips and bobbed his head up and down. George reached over and grabbed his coffee, taking a long slow sip. “Absolutely. When the Taylor’s found out that their baby was deaf, it was your mom who convinced the council to get the street signs in their area updated. Now drivers know to be extra careful when they pass through because a child with hearing impairment lives on that road. When Mr. Grossman’s MS got bad enough that he had to start using a wheelchair, you mom was the one that shanghaied all the businesses in town into getting up to code with their accessibility. Your mom does an awful lot for people Lexa, you and I included.”
Lexa stood in stunned silence, a sense of shame sinking in as she thought about all of the times she’d been dismissive of her mother's exploits in local politics. “I didn’t know about any of that stuff.”
George smirked at her as he took another sip of coffee, and glanced down at the box scores. “I know you didn’t.” He chuckled a bit, shooting her a knowing glance. “You know, Lexa, your mom knows you love her, but it wouldn’t hurt if you let her know that you respect her.” With that, his face was once again buried in the paper, leaving his daughter to wince at the truth of his statement.
Lexa turned and made her way out of the kitchen and into the living room. She dropped onto the couch and pulled out her phone, scrolling through her contact list until she came to the right name. She pressed the call button, and held the phone to her ear, listening to it ring several times before a voice answered. “I know! I know! I’m late again. I swear, I’m on my way to pick you up right now. I’ll be there in two minutes!”
Lexa laughed as she listened to Raven rattled off an excuse, explaining why she was running behind for the millionth time. “Raven I’m not mad that you’re late to pick me up for school. Are Lincoln, Octavia, and Bellamy with you right now?.”
“Yep!”
“Ok, put me on speaker, I need you guys to help me with something.”
Clarke rubbed her hand across the bathroom mirror a few times, trying to remove the fog from the shower. She smiled slightly, examining her reflection, clear skin, bright blue eyes, and messy blonde hair. A moment later Clarke's smiled turned to a grimace, as she turned slightly, her scar tissue became visible. She stared at it for a moment. The gnarled swirls of grafted flesh covered the top of her left arm, her entire left shoulder, and a portion of her back. She hated her scar, willed it away with all her might, but no matter how many medical treatments she’d agreed to, or how many remedies she’d tried, it had barely faded over the years. She sighed, wrapping a towel tightly around her torso and securing it. “Better to just accept it,” she thought as she set to work drying her hair.
A moment later, a knock on the bathroom door caught Clarke’s attention, and she shut off the blow-dryer. “I’m in here.”
“Sweetie, it’s me,” Abby’s voice echoed through the door. “Can I come in for a second?” Clarke tightened her towel and opened the door half way, peering out at her mother curiously. “Is everything ok?”
Abby smiled and leaned against the doorframe, taking in the sight of her daughter. She reached over, pushing a loose strand of blonde hair from Clarke’s face, and wondering when the teenager had become so beautiful. “Nothing’s wrong Clarke; I just wanted to check one more time to see if you’d changed your mind about tonight.”
Clarke sighed, giving her mother as serious a look as she could muster. “Mom, I already told you I’m not going. It’s a stupid homecoming dance; it doesn’t matter.” She tightened her towel again and opened the door a little wider, allowing her mother into the room as she returned to the blow-dryer.
Abby took a seat on the edge of the bathtub, watching Clarke as she finished drying her blonde mane and began running a comb through it. “I know it’s only a dance, but Clarke, this is your Senior year. I’m just worried that if you skip traditions like this you’re going to and end up regretting it. I don’t want you to feel like you missed out.”
Clarke looked down at the sink counter for a moment, wringing her hands as though she was considering changing her mind. Finally, she looked over at her mother and shook her head. “I’m okay mom. I’m not going to regret not going, I promise.” She gave her mother a halfhearted smile and made her way out of the bathroom.
“Well, you’re father, and I are still willing to drive you if you change your mind!” Abby leaned out of the bathroom doorway, calling to Clarke as her daughter trudged down the hallway and disappeared into her bedroom. Abby groaned, rising from the lip of the tub and making her way to the stairs, where an anxious Jake was waiting in the wings. He stared at her expectantly and. “Any luck?”
“I’m afraid not,” Abby sighed as she took a spot next to her husband. “I can tell she wants to go, but I don’t think she’d changing her mind.” Jake exhaled a long slow breath and stared at the ceiling. “Abby,” he looked over at her tentatively. “Do you think the way she feels is our fault? Maybe we should have tried harder to make her feel like it wasn’t a big deal.”
Abby shrugged as she peered at Jake out of the corner of her eye. “Who knows. I mean, I suppose we were the ones that started covering up her scar up in the first place, but nobody wants to send their little one off to school just to have them come home crying because they were picked on. We did what we thought was right at the time.”
Jake nodded. I just don’t want her to spend her entire life feeling like she has to hide it from everyone.”
Abby turned to face her husband, smiling as she ran her hand through his hair. “Eventually she won’t, but right now she’s a teenager. Teenagers hate feeling different. It won’t last forever.”
Clarke rummaged in her chest of drawers, pulling out a worn pair of flannel pajama pants and an old college sweatshirt that had belonged to her father. She pulled on the nightclothes and tied her hair back in a loose knot as she made her way to her bed. Clarke pulled back the comforter and slid into the warm, soft sheets, settling into the mound of pillows as she prepared herself for a quiet night of reading, and an early bedtime. She drew her knees up, grabbed her book off the side table and gingerly opening it to the last page she’d finished. “It is just a school dance,” she reminded herself as she began reading. “It isn’t important.”
Clarke had barely made it through a page when a tap on her window distracted her. She looked up, but unable to notice anything amiss she returned to the book. A moment later there was another sharp tap, then another. Clarke looked up just in time to see a pebble hit the window and bounce off the glass. For a moment she froze, thinking that this was exactly the way a scary story would start. None the less, her curiosity become overpowering as she watched two more tiny pebbles ricochet off the glass. Clarke placed her book on her nightstand and slowly pulled the covers off. She crept out of bed, making her way over to the window and peering down into the yard below.
She scowled as soon as she saw the sight on the lawn below. Clarke placed her hands on the window frame and pushed it open, sticking her head out into the chilly night air. “What are you doing here? You scared me half to death!”
Lexa straightened her dress and stared up at Clarke nervously, hoping that the plan she’d come up with would be well received. “It’s not just me Clarke. We all came to try and talk you into coming with us.”
From the shadows around the side of the house, four other people appeared, walking up behind Lexa. Lincoln, Raven, Bellamy, and Octavia stood waving up at her from her yard, all dressed in formal attire and clad in various strange accessories. Clarke peered closer trying to make out the unique additions to each person’s outfit.
From her spot on the grass, Lexa smiled, steadying herself as she began delivering the speech she’d prepared. “Clarke, we know that you’re afraid of what people are going to think if they see your scar. We thought that it might change how you felt if we showed you some things that embarrass us. Please come down. I promise if this doesn’t change your mind we will leave.”
Clarke rolled her eyes as she stared at Lexa in annoyance. She narrowed seethed in the brunette’s direction, but the girl didn’t budge. Finally, she groaned, letting out a deep sigh. “Fine, but I’m only coming down for a minute.”
Clarke disappeared into the house, and closed the window, leaving a nervous Lexa waiting on the lawn. She looked at the group behind her and gave them a small thumbs up. “Guys, I think this is going to work.”
Octavia shot her a death glare. “I hope so Lexa because we all look ridiculous right now.”
Lincoln squeezed Octavia’s arm and laughed. “Speak for yourself. I think I look awesome.”
A second later Clarke, rounded the corner, stopping dead in her tracks as she got a close up of her five friends. “What on earth are you all wearing?”
Lexa smiled at Clarke and took a few cautious steps forward. “Clarke, I know that we don’t understand what it’s like to have a scar like yours, but all of us know what it’s like to have things we don’t necessarily want people to see. We decided that if you come with us tonight, and let people see your scar, we’d let everyone see the things that embarrassed us too.
Clarke walked over to the group and peered at them, her eyes fixing first on Lincoln, who was wearing a wig, a giant afro of loose corkscrew curls. “Lincoln, what is that?”
He chuckled, rolling his eyes. “This is what my hair look like when I grow it out. I used to get made fun of all the time, so I started shaving it sophomore year. I know it’s not the same thing, but I’ve always been embarrassed about it.” He ran his hand through the wig, laughing nervously.
Clarke took a step to the side and looked up and down at Octavia, who wore a patch oven her right eye, and an enormous pair of coke bottle glasses. Octavia sighed as Clarke gave her the once over. “I had amblyopia when I was a kid, which is a nice way of saying a lazy eye. I had to wear the patch over my good eye every day for most of the second grade, and nearly everyone classed me Petey the Pirate until I went to middle school.”
Clarke tried not to laugh. “And the glasses.”
Octavia frowned. “I got contacts just before high school, but before then I only had these. I've always had all-around terrible vision.”
Clarke nodded, making her way over to Raven, who’s gorgeous white dress was somewhat obscured by large, plastic apparatus wrapped around her back and waist. Clarke gazed at the contraption with wide eyes. “Raven, what on earth is that thing?”
Raven laughed heartily, smiling at her friend. “That my dear is a corrective back brace. I had to wear this pretty much all of middle school because I had scoliosis. Technically, I wore it under my clothes, but it was still super embarrassing to have everyone in the locker room see it when we’d change for gym. As I’m sure you can imagine, the popular girls were super understanding and sensitive about it.”
Clarke smiled understandingly. “That sucks, I’m sorry you had to deal with that.”
Raven just shrugged, giving the blonde a smirk and a wink. “Meh. I got hot and tall, and they got acne. I win.”
Clarke laughed at this, making her way over to where Bellamy stood, rocking back and forth in a suit and tie, his hands in his pockets. She smiled up at him. “So what’s yours?”
Bellamy rolled his eyes and withdrew one hand, reaching up to his mouth. He smiled, and grabbed his top row of teeth between his thumb and index finger, giving it a quick yank. Clarke tried not to gasp as Bellamy’s four front teeth pulled away, revealing a large gap. He held the false teeth aloft and wiggled them in the air, pointing to his mouth. “I was pithing in the batheball thtate championthip two yeaws ago and took a hawd line drive wight to the mouth.” I had to get a parthial denthur to weplace all the teeth it knocked out.” He lisped heavily as he spoke, and grinned widely at her, showing off the large gap in his mouth. “But I thtill thwow a perfect game that night, with or without my teeth.”
Raven punched him in the arm. “Somehow he also managed to take Sarah Schwartzman home with him, even with that big hole in his mouth.”
Bellamy smiled. “Thee thought it was thexthy.”
Clarke giggled at Bellamy, holding her hand over her eyes as she shook her head. After a moment she looked over at Lexa, the only one left in the group who didn’t seem to have an embarrassing addition to her homecoming outfit which, Clarke had to admit, Lexa looked stunning wearing. She wore an off-white dress, with a straight across neckline, that hit just above the knee. Her hair was straightened and glossy, and spilled over her shoulders, accentuating the soft, slight tan of her sun-kissed skin. Lexa wasn't wearing much makeup, only some eyeshadow, and lipstick, but it was just enough to make her look the tiniest bit sultry, and as Clarke stared at her, she couldn’t help but think about what it would be like to kiss the beautiful girl. Clarke walked over to the brunette, looking her up and down. “And what about you? Where’s your secret shame?”
Lexa smiled, holding up a finger to let Clarke know she needed a minute. Lexa reached for the small purse at her side and opened it, pulling out a strange looking strap complete with wires and metal fasteners. Slowly, Lexa placed the strap around the back of her head and opened her mouth, fastening to ends to something under her pallet. She looked back up at Clarke smiling as she displayed the ridiculous looking headgear. “I started getting orthodontic work done when I was eleven. First I had a pallet expander, then braces when I was twelve, and all kinds of corrective stuff I had to wear at night. The braces came off a few years ago, but my orthodontist left in the pallet expander so that everything would stay in place. I have to keep it until I stop growing, and I’m supposed to wear this every night to make sure that everything grows the right way. I’ve never worn it in front of anyone until now though. I was too embarrassed to even tell these guys.” She pointed at the group.
Clarke smiled, doing her best not to laugh. When she finally had control of herself, she looked around at the group one more time, her eyes becoming glassy as she took in the sweet display. She looked back at Lexa and sighed, shaking her head gently, and considering what her friends were offering to do for her. “Do you guys mind waiting while I get ready?”
It was well past midnight when Raven’s car pulled up between Lexa's and Clark’s houses. The giddy girls spilled out of the vehicle and onto the sidewalk, shoes in hand, laughing hysterically as they waved at the car that was now disappearing down the dark street. Lexa gazed over at Clarke with a reverent smiled that extended from ear to ear. She didn’t know how the girl had managed it, but in the half an hour they had waited for Clarke to throw on a dress and makeup, the blonde had managed to make herself look even more radiant than ever.
At the dance, not one single person had mentioned Clarke’s scar, and what was more, everyone had stopped to tell her how incredible she looked. As far as Lexa was concerned Clarke had been the most beautiful girl there by a mile, and she was certain that everyone in the room had been jealous of her as they watched Clarke dance in her arms. Lexa blushed thinking about how good it felt when Clarke leaned in close during the last song, resting her head on Lexa’s shoulder. As far as she was concerned, nights didn’t get better than this one, and the brunette wished it didn’t have to end.
Clarke leaned over, wrapping her hands around Lexa’s bicep and pulling her close. She smiled dreamily, gazing into her eyes as though in a trance. “Walk me to my door?” Lexa nodded and looped her hand around Clarke’s waist. “Of course.”
The girls made their way up the walkway slowly, holding tight to one another. When they reached Clarke’s front porch, they broke apart and faced each other, neither one sure what to do.
Clarke reached up to Lexa’s cheek and brushed her fingers against the headgear the girl had faithfully worn all throughout the dance. “I think you can take this off now. You more than kept your promise.”
Lexa sighed in relief, quickly unlatching the device and shoving it back in her clutch. She rubbed her jaw with her free hand, opening and closing it a few times to ride herself of the tenderness. “Ugh, thank g-d. That thing was starting to hurt.”
Clarke smiled, closing the gap between them and reaching up to rub a thumb over Lexa’s jawline tenderly. She gazed into Lexa’s eyes and pressed her body close.
“Does that help?”
Lexa was suddenly frozen solid. She tried to speak, but couldn’t manage more than a nod as she stared at the gorgeous girl in front of her. Everything in Lexa’s body told her they this was the moment to make a move. Her brain screamed for her to lean in and kiss Clarke but she couldn’t move. A split second later, she was beaten to the punch when Clarke cupped the brunette's cheeks and leaned up on her tiptoes, pressing her lips to Lexa’s.
The kiss began sweet and soft, and as Lexa regained control of her body, she reached for Clark’s waist, steadying herself and pulling the smaller girl closer. Soon, Lexa was sucking gently on Clarke’s bottom lip, as the kiss grew deeper, needier, less controlled. Clark’s hands snaked around Lexa’s neck. A moment later, Lexa felt something warm and wet on her face, and she pulled away to see a single tear was rolling down Clark’s cheek.
“Hey, what’s wrong?”
Clarke shook her head, fixing her eyes on Lexa’s neckline. “Nothing’s wrong. You did everything right. You just, kind of feel too good to be true.”
Lexa sighed, pulling the smaller girl to her and rocking their bodies gently as Clarke lay her head on Lexa’s shoulder. “Clarke, I’ve never met anyone like you before. I’ve never felt this way about anyone. All I want to do is be good for you.”
Clarke laughed into the crook of Lexa’s neck and lifted her head. “Well, you’re doing a good job of that so far.” She placed a soft kiss on her cheek and pulled away as the porch lights started blinking. “I think that’s probably my mom letting me know it’s time to come in.”
Lexa blushed at the thought of Abby, watching them from just inside the door. “I guess I should get going then.” She leaned over placing a final, chaste kiss to Clark’s lips before turning and making her way down the porch stairs.
Clarke was about to open the door when Lexa’s voice called out to her. “Clarke?”
She turned, realizing that Lexa had reappeared. “Hmm?”
Lexa took a deep breath, holding it nervously for a moment before she spoke. “Do you think… What would you think about the idea of us, maybe, dating?”
A smile spread across Clarke’s face slowly, growing until it reached from ear to ear. “I thought you’d never ask.” With that Clarke disappeared inside, her back pressed to the door as she let her head fall into her hands, moaning into them triumphantly.
Lexa stepped across the threshold of her front door and tiptoed into the foyer cautiously, not wanting to make too much noise. She crept up the stairs stealthily, making her way to her bedroom as quietly as possible. She'd almost made it through her door when her mother called to her from down the hall. “Alexandra, is that you?”
Lexa gritted her teeth, turning to see her mother leaning out of her bedroom doorway, rubbing her eyes. “It’s terribly late sweetie. I thought you said you’d be home by twelve.”
Lexa grinned sheepishly. “I’m sorry, I just lost track of time.”
June yawned, “Well, I suppose it’s all right just this once. Did you have fun?”
Lexa smiled at her mother, nodding her head vigorously. “Best night ever.”
“Well, I’m glad. Now, get to bed before you wake up your father.”
Lexa nodded, creeping halfway into her room before she leaned back out and whispered down the hallway. “Mom?”
June reappeared in the doorway, eyebrow raised. “What is it sweetie?”
Lexa smiled at her mother, thinking of the conversation she and her father had had. “I just wanted to tell you that I think what you do is important. I’m really proud of you.”
June looked stunned but smiled none-the-less, nodding at Lexa. “Well thank you, Alexandra, that’s very sweet of you to say.”
Lexa smiled. “Goodnight mom.”
June smiled back at her daughter. “Sleep tight, baby.”