"Come on, Clarke! Let's play!" Octavia yelled over the loud music, grabbing Clarke by the wrist and dragging her along behind her. Clarke laughed and obliged, weaving through the crowd behind her friend. Bodies pressed up against her on all sides, not paying any attention as she bounced off of them and pushed through the buzzing crowd.
"Clarke and I call next game!" Octavia announced as the two finally emerged from the crowd into a separate room, still occupied but not fully packed with people. A table stood in the middle of the room, adorned with the classic solo cups in a typical pong formation.
"You're going to have to wait, O," Bellamy Blake responded before lofting a ball down the table. The ball bounced off the edge of a cup and then fell to the floor. "We just started a game."
Murphy, standing beside Bellamy, tossed a second ball down the table. Murphy missed the cups entirely and the ball bounced on the table and then onto the floor.
"Yeah, and this could take a while," Jasper teased as he retrieved both balls from the floor and tossed one to Monty, whose reflexes had clearly disappeared with the presence of alcohol in his system.
"Ugh, fine," Octavia pouted. "Come find us when you're finished then." Bellamy nodded, as Jasper tossed his ball down the table. Octavia and Clarke turned around and plunged back into the crowd of the pulsating party. The lights were low and Clarke could feel the bass of the music ricocheting in her chest and striking her eardrums. She felt grateful for the warm feeling coursing through her veins and the buzz the alcohol had given her, and then realized that she still had a bottle of Bud Light in her hand. She lifted the bottle to her lips and swallowed deeply, trying to further the buzz.
She tried her best to follow Octavia back through the crowd, but got lost somewhere along the way. She shrugged and decided to head for the kitchen, in search of another bottle to replace her now empty one.
Fewer people loitered in the kitchen, mostly just those scrounging for food and those trying to replenish their drinks. A blonde girl stood in the corner with her phone pressed to one ear and her hand cupped over the other, trying to carry some conversation over the loud music. It didn't seem much use though. Clarke couldn't hear a word of the conversation from only a few feet away.
"Hey, Clarke!" If it hadn't been for the hand on her shoulder turning her around, Clarke probably wouldn't have even heard her name called. She let the person turn her around and found Raven behind her, smiling with two drinks in her hand. Clarke returned the smile and gladly accepted the second drink. Raven nodded and gestured toward the back door and began to lead the way out.
Clarke followed Raven outside, a little relieved to escape the demanding bass of the music for a few minutes. The cool air wrapped around her like a blanket, and she welcomed it. Raven leaned against the porch railing, setting her drink down next to her before reaching into the pocket of her jacket. She pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. After pulling one from the pack and balancing it between her lips, she offered the pack to Clarke.
Clarke wasn't a regular smoker by any means, but sometimes during a night of drinking, she couldn't refuse. She found smoking almost therapeutic at times, and she loved to watch the smoke float away from her as she exhaled. So she accepted Raven's offer and pulled one from the pack. Raven lit her cigarette after returning the pack to her pocket, and then passed the lighter to Clarke. Clarke lit hers and then set the lighter on the porch railing.
"Griffin's off her game tonight, huh?" Raven said as she exhaled, blowing the smoke in Clarke's direction, a smirk tugging at her lips.
"Please, have I ever been off my game?" Clarke returned cockily, taking a sip of her drink and smiling. Raven rolled her eyes and took another drag off her cigarette.
"Pretty sure you'd have your tongue down somebody's throat by now on any other given day," Raven teased, offering a chuckle. Clarke just shrugged in response. She could say that nobody here interested her or caught her eye, but truthfully she hadn't been paying much attention. She'd mostly just tagged along with her group of friends, letting them lead this way and that and just enjoying where the party took her. Raven, however, remained unconvinced and expected more banter from Clarke than a surrendering shrug.
"Really, Clarke, you okay?" She pushed, and Clarke took a drag off her cigarette. When she exhaled, no smoke billowed out from her lips, and she realized that she had spent so much time staring into space that she'd let her cigarette burn out. She reached for the lighter again and relit it breathing in deeply.
"I'm good, Ray, honest," she responded, but she could feel that the words were not entirely true. In all honesty, she wasn't sure why she was in such a mood or why she wasn't scanning the room for potential hook-ups. Maybe she had just outgrown the college scene and didn't enjoy it as much as she used to.
"If you say so," Raven replied, unconvinced. She took one last drag of her cigarette before the flame reached the filter, and she flicked the butt into the grass. She stood there for a few moments with Clarke, who remained silent and offered nothing to the conversation. Raven finally decided to retreat and leave Clarke to her thoughts. Maybe she'd come around if she just had some time to herself.
"I'll be inside. Come find me when you finish your cig," she told Clarke before turning around to head back inside.
Clarke still had about half of a cigarette to smoke, and she couldn't pull herself out of her own mind. She stared out into the empty backyard, lit only by a nearby streetlamp. Tall pine trees stood at the back edge of the yard like bodyguards, while a chain-link fence bordered the left side of the yard. To the right, a handful of partygoers strolled down the sidewalk. It was easy to decipher who was coming and who was going, simply by the sway of their step.
Aside from the occasional passersby, not much was happening around campus tonight. Spring Break had started yesterday and most of the students had left for a tropical vacation or a week at home. Clarke and her friends had decided to stay in their house near campus though. None of them could afford any kind of vacation – the fact that any college student could afford a vacation blew her mind – and none of them had a desire to spend a week at home either.
Finally Clarke sighed, and decided to take advantage of the unusually warm March weather. She took the few steps down from the porch and followed the sidewalk to campus. She lifted the cigarette in her hand to her lips once again, took one last deep drag, and then tossed the butt onto the sidewalk in front of her. She made a point to step on it as she approached it, and then continued.
Her phone buzzed inside her pocket, and she paused to consider if she wanted to check it or not. The breeze looped around her like chilly arms trying to undo her jacket, and she pulled her coat more tightly around her. The students of Arkadia University had gotten too hopeful with the recent heat wave going through campus, but the nights were still colder than expected and she probably should have brought a warmer jacket.
Then her phone vibrated once more against her hand inside her jacket pocket. She rolled her eyes, but smiled anyway, aware that her friends probably only wondered where she had gone. She pulled the phone out of her pocket, her fingers protesting the removal from their cozy pocket home. The screen lit up to reveal three text messages: two from Raven and one from Octavia.
Raven: That's one long ass smoke break you're taking.
Raven: What the fuck, Clarke? Where'd you go?
Clarke chucked and quickly typed a response, grateful for her protective (and sometimes overbearing) friend.
Clarke: I decided to go for a walk. I'll be back soon, promise!
Clarke opened Octavia's text next while she waited for Raven's response.
Octavia: YOU BAILED ON ME FOR BEER PONG EHAT THE HELL
Clarke smiled again as she finally reached the edge of campus and continued forward. Octavia had been buzzed before Clarke even arrived, and she was sure she was really feeling it by now. She typed back a quick apology and told her to ask Raven to be her partner, and then Raven's response caused her phone to vibrate.
Raven: Fine. Try not to get kidnapped. I don't want to kill anyone tonight, okay?
Clarke knew that Raven would have been pissed about her taking off without notification on any other night. Raven must feel sorry for her bad mood, and also decided that with everyone on campus gone for spring break, it wasn't worth the argument. Clarke would be fine and there was nothing to worry about.
She returned the phone to her jacket pocket as she passed by one of her old dorms: Kinghorn Hall. Clarke had lived there her sophomore year, and the building still left a bad taste in her mouth. She had been given a random roommate that year, and while the girl had been nothing but polite to Clarke, the two girls could not have been more opposite if they had tried.
However, it actually turned out to be the biggest blessing in disguise. Because Clarke never wanted to stay in her room, she often found herself spending time with a girl she had met during her freshman year Biology class, Raven. Raven introduced Clarke to all of her friends and she quickly became a part of their group, one of their own, and they had all been close ever since.
Clarke offered a small smile as she passed the building and left it behind her. Despite everything, living in that building had led her to the best people she'd ever known. She glanced up at the navy sky, lit only slightly by the streetlights of Arkadia's surrounding city. A few bright stars forced themselves into sight, shining brighter than the artificial lighting that threatened to drown them out. Clarke loved the stars and she loved the night. She loved the expanse of space and the possibility that it promised, the possibility of more. Clarke would often find herself staring out the window into the night's sky, casting her every thought onto the dark canvas like a chalkboard. The night made everything clearer and more visible, and Clarke had always found comfort in the sky.
Clarke finally reached an intersection and decided to cross the street to the left. She paused to look for cars, and then crossed. The sidewalk led her past a parking garage and another dorm building, and then she hooked a right to head toward the campus library. The library rose in front of her like a big bully, but Clarke loved the library more than any other building on campus. She could always find refuge in the library, no matter what. If her roommates were being too loud for her to get any studying done, the library always offered her a quiet place to work. But the library also provided space for study groups and countless nights of "studying," which really just consisted of her and her friends watching YouTube videos and ordering pizza.
Across from the library stood Polis Hall, which basically just served as the largest lecture hall that Arkadia had to offer. Clarke had only taken one class there her freshman year: COMM 210, otherwise known as Speech. More than six hundred kids poured into the hall every Monday morning at 9am to listen to a fifty-minute lecture that none of them cared about. Clarke had spent almost every lecture playing Tetris or Solitaire on her laptop.
Still, Polis was unlike any other building on campus. Its modern architecture and domed roof made it stand out among the rest, and Clarke liked the building. As she approached it, she dragged her fingers against the rough concrete of its outer wall, smoothening her fingertips in the process.
As Clarke rounded the edge of the building, she heard a few low melodies carried on the wind. She slowed down for a moment, but figured that a live band must be playing at one of the bars nearby. However, as she continued walking, Clarke spotted a figure sitting along the wall that lined the sidewalk outside of Polis. She couldn't make out much about the figure; just the person had long, thick hair that billowed around her shoulders and a guitar on her lap. The girl had her back pushed up against the street light with her back toward Clarke.
The girl strummed along through her song, still unaware of Clarke's presence. Clarke did not want to disturb her, but continued walking forward, though her ears strained to listen to the melody resonating from the instrument.
Clarke never made eye contact with the girl, but found that she had to force herself to keep moving forward. She found herself wanting to stop and listen. The girl clearly had a lot of experience with her guitar, and Clarke had a certain weakness for people with a passion for something.
Still, Clarke never stopped to listen. Her ears tried to reach back behind her and pull the guitar's melody along with them, but finally Clarke had travelled beyond their reach. She found herself in a better mood all of a sudden though, finally drawn out of her thoughts and into reality. Her warm fingers wrapped around the phone tucked inside her coat and pulled it out and she typed a message out to Raven.
Clarke: Girl playing guitar in the middle of campus at 11pm during spring break.
Raven's response came almost immediately.
Raven: Is she hot?
Clarke laughed. The response was just so typical Raven.
Clarke: I couldn't really tell. It's dark and I didn't want to stare. She's really fucking good though.
Clarke now found herself at the edge of library, Polis Hall far behind her. The road cut her path in front of her, so that she either had to cross the street or turn left or right along the sidewalk. Clarke opted to go right and make a circle around the library. Maybe she could inconspicuously make another trip past the guitar girl without seeming like too much of a creep.
Raven: Don't talk to her unless she's hot.
Clarke couldn't stop herself from rolling her eyes.
Clarke: You're so shallow. You know that, right?
Raven: You say shallow. I say selective. Just trying to look out, Clarke!
Clarke tucked the phone back inside her pocket without bothering to respond. She hooked another right at the edge of the library and found herself walking toward Polis Hall once more. She could already feel her ears scanning the environment for the guitar's melody. After a few more steps, Clarke finally heard the strings of the acoustic guitar. The girl had switched songs and settled for something with more chords and less plucking, and the major chords sounded happy and vibrant.
Clarke walked slower, hesitant to walk too fast past the stranger again. In fact, Clarke couldn't even see the guitarist yet; she had made another right around the library and had just reached Polis Hall. She knew the guitar player sat just on the other side the building, but maybe she could stay enough out of sight that she could still listen.
After a few more steps, Clarke could see the guitarist with her back still pushed up against the light post. The guitar's chords rang loud and clear through the crisp night air, and Clarke made a decision. Several benches lined the wall outside the library, and Clarke took a seat on the closest one. She wasn't totally out of the girl's line of sight, but she was still somewhat behind her and most likely would remain unseen. She pulled out her phone to make it look like she was busy doing something, but her full attention lingered on the guitarist.
From this angle, Clarke still couldn't see much of the girl. Her hair was definitely brunette, and it was wild. The curls weaved in and out of each other, pulled back into a messy ponytail that fell halfway down her back. Other than that, Clarke couldn't tell much else. She still faced away from Clarke with the guitar on her lap.
Clarke: I could totally date a guitarist.
Raven: You could totally date a hot guitarist.
Clarke: Still can't tell if she's hot.
Raven: Grow a pair, Clarke. Go talk to her.
Clarke stared at the words on the screen for a moment. On any other night in any other situation, Clarke wouldn't have thought twice about walking up to the girl and starting up a conversation. It's not like it even would have been difficult. The girl was literally playing guitar in the middle of campus; she was practically begging to be talked to. But for some reason, Clarke stayed in her seat on the cold bench, staring down at her phone, one ear still trained on the music.
Actually, she didn't really even have to focus on the music anymore to hear it. The music cut through the air like a sharp knife through butter. But then Clarke really started to listen and her heart started to race as she heard lyrics accompany the guitar. The girl's voice was smooth and velvety, effortlessly elevating the chords with new bravado. Clarke's eyes still stared down at the phone in her hands, the screen now black with inactivity. The guitarist must really be feeling her music right now, because she keeps singing louder. The notes reach Clarke's ears with precision, each one perfectly matched to the chords of the guitar. The cacophony of notes paired into one unison chord, mixing rhythmically and beautifully.
And then Clarke feels the hair stand up on the back of her neck, and blood rushes to her cheeks, because she can see someone approaching her now. She's caught. Someone knows she's been sitting here listening to this stranger play guitar in the dark in the middle of campus. But then it dawns on her, and Clarke raises her head to look up. It's not just someone approaching her, it's her. The girl strums her guitar effortlessly as she strides up to Clarke, the guitar hanging over her shoulder by a rainbow guitar strap. But Clarke can't even respond to the shock of this girl walking toward her, because she is too startled by how beautiful she is.
She smiles while she sings, her lips pulled up at the corners even as she mouths the words. Clarke isn't sure where to look, because she can tell she's staring. Eye contact proves too awkward, so she settles on her lips. Bad idea. "Keep it together, Clarke," she thinks to herself, before settling for watching the girl's hands. The fingers of her left hand dance some unknown choreography on the neck of the guitar, pressing on strings in a seemingly random pattern that Clarke doesn't understand. Whatever she's doing, it's working because a guitar has never sounded so good.
Clarke keeps her eyes on her hands, trying to understand why she places them where she does. It doesn't matter though, because Clarke knows nothing about instruments or what makes them work. Finally the girl's voice softens and she strums the chords slower, letting the last one ring out with the final word of the lyrics. Clarke can't stop smiling, and the girl fakes a half-bow. Clarke offers her some enthusiastic applause.
"Thank you, thank you," the girl offers, chuckling. "Alright, I'll leave you alone now." And before Clarke knows it, the girl has turned her back and starts walking back toward her seat against the light pole. The smile falls from her face, replaced by a lot of confusion and a little bit of intrigue.
Clarke's phone still sits in her hand, and brings Clarke back to reality as a text message causes the phone to vibrate and screen to light up.
Raven: DID YOU TALK TO HER YET
Clarke reads the text but offers no response, physical or otherwise. The phone vibrates again. It's Octavia this time.
Octavia: Ray said youn found arand om gir on campus bring herrh home #!
Clearly Octavia hasn't reached her limit yet. Clarke closes the conversation and pulls Raven's back up and types a response.
Clarke: Um she kind of just serenaded me and she's fucking gorgeous
Raven: Okay but Clarke you're not answering my single goddamn question. Have you talked to her yet?
Clarke: No.
Raven: I'm going to kill you. GO TALK TO HER NOW
Raven's right. Clarke locks her phone and tucks it away. Before she has time to reconsider, Clarke stands from her seat and starts closing the distance between her and the brunette. It takes less time than Clarke thought though, and she finds herself five feet away from the girl before she realizes she has no idea what she's going to say. It's too late now though, because the brunette is already aware of her arrival and stares at her as she approaches. Clarke swears she sees a smirk tugging at the corner of the girl's lips.
"Hey, um," she pushes her hands into the back pockets of her skinny jeans. "That was really great."
The smirk becomes a confident smile, and the girl nods. "Thank you, I had a great audience."
Clarke loves the confidence, and she swoons momentarily before she catches herself. "Do you make it a habit to serenade strangers in the middle of the night?"
The girl raises an eyebrow. "Do you make it a habit to watch unknowing strangers from afar in the middle of the night?"
Clarke opens her mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. She really doesn't have a good reply for that one. She closes her mouth and smiles, before offering a hand. "I'm Clarke."
The brunette takes her hand and shakes it briefly. "It's nice to meet you, Clarke. I'm Lexa."