It's July 23rd, the middle of summer vacation, and Clarke Griffin had settled into a small routine. Walk into Grounders, scout the cafe to look for the cute girl she's been crushing on all summer, and then order her iced coffee. She sighs quietly when she realizes the cute girl is absent today. She waits in line with more bitter annoyance than what's appropriate, and glares at the man in front of her who tells her to "smile a little, princess."
Slipping her phone into her back pocket, she walks up to the counter to get ready to order her usual cup of iced coffee. She receives it a minute later, and frowns at the incorrect spelling of her name on her cup again. Reaching aimlessly for the door on her way out, she is quickly bowled over by an unknown force.
"Fuck, sorry!" Clarke says, knocking both herself and the person she just bumped into on their asses. She quickly clutches at her phone still in her back pocket, and groans when she realizes it won't turn on. Look on the brightside, Griffin. At least that cute girl isn't here to see this, she thinks.
"It's okay, it's not that bad. At least nothing spilled on me," the stranger says.
Clarke looks up at the sound of the stranger's very strong French accent, wondering if they'd spoken English at all. She almost screams when their eyes meet. Oh God, it's the cute girl, Clarke panics.
"Y-yeah, that dress looks very expensive," Clarke laughs nervously. Fuck, did that sound sarcastic?
The stranger raises an eyebrow at her, further heightening Clarke's paranoia, before getting up to help the blonde.
"I'm Lexa," she introduces herself, once Clarke is standing.
"Clarke," she says, holding her hand out to shake Lexa's hand. "Sorry for knocking you over."
"Again, it's okay, nothing spilled on me. I can't say the same for you though," she says, gesturing to the front of Clarke's white top, which was now see-through.
Clarke flushes an even deeper red, "g-gotta go! Kane! Murder!" She says quickly, rushing out of the cafe before Lexa can say anything else.
"O, give me your sweater now," Clarke says, running into work a minute before the camp director, Kane, can murder her for tardiness.
Octavia pouts, "this is my favourite sweater!"
"Please. Look at me," Clarke says, gesturing to the very large brown stain on her shirt, "and I've got to work a double shift today- one here, and one at the store. Plus, as you can already tell, I didn't have any caffeine today!"
Octavia frowns, but hands Clarke her sweater anyway, "yeah, what happened? It looks like someone shat all over your chest. I mean, I'm not kink shaming or anything."
"I bumped into that cute girl at Grounders," she mumbles.
"What?"
But before Clarke could elaborate, roll call was starting, and she hadn't changed yet. "I'll tell you later," Clarke promises.
Octavia sighs, but makes Clarke swear on her pinky. "Later," she warns.
"Spill, Griffin." Octavia starts, once she's sure the craft room is free of campers. "How did you get that shit stain on your shirt, and what does it have to do with Grounder Girl?"
Clarke sighs. "I talked to her today," she starts.
They were cleaning up the craft room while the campers were away at lunch, so no one was particularly watching their language.
"Holy shit, seriously, Clarke? I knew you could grow some balls!" Raven says, dropping her broom in the process
"Her name's Lexa," Clarke continues.
"Lexa, huh?" Octavia asks. "So what, did she shit all over your chest?"
"Ew, gross, O," Clarke grimaces. "No, I just bumped into her on my out of the cafe, and spilled my iced coffee all over myself."
Raven smirks. "So, she saw your bra, then? What is that, like, second base?"
"I'm pretty sure Lexa would have had to touch Clarke for that to be second base, Rae." Octavia says, matter-of-factly.
Raven shrugs, then turns back to Clarke. "So you talked to her, and she saw your bra. Did you get her number?"
Octavia stops cleaning to wait for Clarke's answer.
"No," Clarke mutters, ashamed.
Raven gasps. "No? How? She saw your bra!"
Clarke closes her eyes, defeated. "Well, when she noticed that my shirt was basically transparent, she pointed it out to me, and I got so flustered, I kind of yelled some biblical gibberish at her."
"What…? What did you say?"
"I said something like, 'late! Kane! Murder!' and then took off. She probably thinks I'm crazy."
Her friends share a glance before laughing. "Jeez, Clarke, you really screwed that up." Octavia says.
"It's not that bad… You might be able to still salvage this," Raven argues. "C'mon, what else did you find out about her?"
The blonde smiles, temporarily forgetting about her embarrassment. "Guys, she's French. She's got to have the strongest French accent I've ever heard in my life. I almost didn't understand her."
"And she's always wearing fancy clothes too? Clarke, you chose a fancy fuck."
She shoves Raven shoulder. "Shut up, she's not like that."
"Ooh, defensive already. I can't wait to be the maid of honour at your wedding."
Clarke throws a broken crayon at Raven's head.
"-Anyway, she's really pretty, and has the prettiest eyes-"
"-For Christ's sake Griffin, just ask her out!" Raven interrupts, annoyed.
It'd been a month since the shit stain incident, as Octavia liked to call it, and Clarke still couldn't stop talking about Lexa.
"I… I can't." Clarke says, losing her excitement. Raven wanted to scream. They'd gone over this exact routine so many times, she'd lost count. Clarke gushes over Lexa, Raven tells her to talk to her again, and Clarke says she can't.
"Look, what've you got to lose? Tomorrow's the last day of camp, and after that, you've got morning shifts for the rest of summer over at Lindt. You know that tomorrow's your last shot to talk to her, so why don't you?"
Clarke purses her lips. She knows Raven's right, but what if? "What if she rejects me?"
"Well, you're probably never going to see her again, so why does it matter?" Raven says, leaving the room to get ready for lunch. Clarke knows the conversation is over.
Okay, Clarke thinks. Tomorrow. Ask her out tomorrow.
Clarke enters the cafe with a purpose. She goes through her routine again, and double checks the cafe for Lexa. Her stomach drops when she finds that Lexa is absent again.I was too late, she thinks, her confidence dropping. She makes her way to the counter to order her iced coffee one last time. Ears filled with the sound of the iced coffee machine spewing out her order, she misses the sound of the door chimes ringing.
She glances at her cup, bitterly smiling when she notices the barista only spelled her name right on her last day. As she turns around to make her way to the exit, she notices Lexa has stepped up to the counter to order. Clarke's eyes widen, now too shy and unprepared to talk to her again. She grips her cup harder and practically runs to the exit.
Before she can push the door open, though, she hears Lexa call out from behind her, "excuse me! Wait!"
Clarke freezes, heart beating a million a minute. She takes a step back and is greeted with the sight of Lexa walking towards her.
"Excuse me, you dropped this," Lexa says, handing her a napkin before making her way back to the counter.
The blonde frowns, not expecting that moment to have been so anti-climactic. She wants to scream for missing both her chances. Pushing the door open, she looks at the folded napkin Lexa handed her.
xxx-xxx-xxxx call me! x - Lexa
Clarke blinks, unable to register the fact that she'd received Lexa's number. She pinches herself. Not a dream. Her face splits into a grin, unable to control her euphoria. She dances all the way to camp, excited to tell Raven and Octavia about her success.
For the first time all summer, Clarke is finally late. She runs onto the camp field, barely escaping Kane in the staff room, afraid of him noticing her tardiness.
"Rae! O! You'll never guess what!" Clarke says, holding the napkin over her head.
Suddenly, Jasper appears between her and her friends, "oh, thanks Clarke."
"For what?" She asks, confused, but she gets her answer when Jasper plucks the napkin in her hands to stop a camper's nosebleed.
"Jasper, no…" Clarke says, weakly.
It's only then that Raven and Octavia show up.
"What? What's up?" Raven asks, noticing Clarke, collapsed on the grass with her face in her hands.
The blonde moves her hand off her mouth so she isn't muffled, "Lexa gave me her number."
"Isn't that a good thing?" Octavia questions, confused.
Clarke nods, her face still covered, "yes, but it was on that napkin," she says, pointing to the camper's bleeding nose.
"Fuck," Raven mutters.
"Fuck is right," Octavia agrees, helping Clarke stand up.