AN: Don't own The 100.
"Uggg," Clarke groaned, throwing her head back as she stumbled out of the SEC building and stepped into the early summer heat – which was only a few degrees' slight of being searing. To her, it was one of the best feelings to step out of an overly air-conditioned building and feel the sunlight warming her skin, enveloping her in a transparent, toasty hug. And… that feeling lasted for about ten seconds before she felt like she had stepped too close to the fire.
She huffed, reaching behind her to pull her hair away from her neck and felt instant relief as she pulled a band off her wrist and twirled her hair into a messy bun. She continued walking along the sidewalk, a median which separated the tall imposing brick buildings of the quad from the large void of green-space it surrounded. Here and there, she could see students lounging under the shadow of a tree, the natural shade providing a little, but noticeable, amount of protection from the sun and its sweltering heat. Along the pathway, she had to move a few times to avoid the rapid steps of a student desperate to make it to the library, their quick pace shaving minutes off 'travel time' and adding them to 'study time'. It was pretty easy to pick out which students had finished their exams and those who hadn't.
But of those people lounging on the grass, looking relaxed, well rested, and like they were wearing a fresh pair of jeans instead of the same ones from Monday, it was hard to distinguish between the ones who were done with finals and the ones who still had exams but didn't care to study 24/7. She gazed longingly at a group sitting along the amphitheater, two holding guitars and strumming along as the rest sang to an acoustic version of "I Took A Pill In Ibiza."
The corner of her mouth lifted into a grin as she imagined herself sitting around the glowing embers of a bonfire with her friends, singing along to an old tune they heard over and over on the radio back in the 00's. She was only a few steps away from living her fantasy – all she had to do was find Octavia, load up the car, meet up with Bellamy and Lincoln in Sacramento, then hit the road – the procedure was simple, but she was still miles away from her desired location: Arcadia.
The name of that tiny town on the coast of California was associated with the best memories of her childhood; learning to swim, making s'mores with her father, waking up to the smell of crisp ocean air and tiptoeing down the stairs to pad along the floor and step onto the deck to watch the sunrise - they all happened in Arcadia.
This year would be different though, she thought sadly. Her father wouldn't be there. It would be her first summer in Arcadia since her father died two years ago. But Clarke knew that regardless of whether her Dad was there or not, things would never be the same. Things change. Time doesn't stop to let you smell the roses, it surges forward - appearing agonizingly slow to a child and blindingly fast to an adult - and yet, coinciding with the theory of relativity, it moves at a constant speed, no matter the speed of the observer. You couldn't repeat past moments; you could only relive memories.
But, there were new memories to be made. The childhood wonders of collecting seashells, building sandcastles, and riding carousels might fade over time, but adulthood brings new surprises – mainly in the form of alcoholic beverages, but there were also things like surfing the perfect wave, kayaking along the Redwood Coast, and competing in the annual beach volleyball tournament.
So Clarke was going to make the most of it, meaning she wasn't going to let the pain of losing her father stop her from returning to the beautiful coast of Arcadia with her motley group of friends in tow, taking full advantage of their family's expansive beach house, and spending summer in the sunshine.
She finally made it to Kurson Lofts, where she shared an apartment with Octavia, and hurried through the lobby to catch the elevator before the doors closed. She pulled the strands of wispy hair that had fallen out of the bun and tucked them behind her ear. Her phone buzzed loudly from where it was stowed in her purse and she dug around old receipts and other paraphernalia to pull it out.
...
Octavia: Are you here yet? I'm ready to gooooo
Clarke: Coming up, hold on
Octavia: ….
Clarke: I can't make the elevator go any faster
Octavia: Not with that attitude you can't
...
The elevator dinged and Clarke waited for the others to exit before stepping onto the fourth floor, she walked down the hall to 401b and was startled when the door swung open before she could knock.
She flinched when she met Octavia on the other side, who immediately started shrieking and jumping up and down.
"Ahhhh!" Octavia yelled out excitedly.
Clarke tried her best to ignore her as she pushed herself through the threshold and into the tiny living room.
"Finally, I had to wait forever," Octavia groaned as she stumbled past Clarke to flop on the couch next to a large suitcase and matching weekend bag, "It's so hard to find something to do when you suddenly have time to actually do something besides problem sets, reading, and studying."
"So what did you do?" Clarke called out from the bathroom as she gathered up her toiletries to throw into a makeup bag.
"I reorganized my pins on Pinterest," she said proudly, taking a deep breath before she started rambling, "The cakes board was getting too ambiguous so I sorted it into cakes, cupcakes, pancakes, pound cakes, birthday cakes, Bundt cakes, cheesecakes, ice cream cakes, sponge cakes…"
Clarke was out of range once she went into her room and entered the closet, there was only a vague murmuring sounding through the walls. She grabbed her hamper and remaining bags of accessories and took a last look around her room for anything she might've missed. It was strange to see the room stripped bare after spending months sleeping under colorful bedding, bright fairy lights, and all the art pieces she had scattered across the walls.
She loaded the bags onto her shoulders and squeezed out of the doorway. "Ready?" she called to Octavia.
"Yes!" she leaped of the couch and snatched her purse from the coffee table.
They looked round the apartment for the last time (next year they would be staying in a townhouse off-campus) and flipped the light switch and closed the door behind them.
Clarke suddenly felt a bit melancholy saying goodbye to what was essentially her home for the past year, but she tried to push that aside and absorb some of the excitement that Octavia was giving off.
"Now it's officially the first day of summer!" she cheered, but then paused for a beat, tilting her head in deliberation, "or should the first day of summer start once we're at the beach house? Or wait, should it wait til the whole kru arrives? Ugh, but that would mean waiting a week longer…"
"O," Clarke stopped her, smiling, "the first day of summer starts the minute we get in the car, start the engine, and drive away from here and turn towards the ocean."
They located her sleek, white Camaro in the parking lot and quickly crammed all their bags in the trunk, then sprinted to the doors to slide into their seats and click their seatbelts. Octavia was humming a high pitch frequency and practically bouncing in her seat. Clarke reached up behind the review mirror and pulled the front latch to release the convertible top from the windshield and when she pushed the rear button, they watched the windows lower as the top disappeared from above their heads and pulled back to fold neatly over the trunk. She turned the key, and pressed her foot on the accelerator to hear the engine roar to life.
They slipped their sunglasses on and turned to face each other, wide grins tugging at the corners of their mouths. Clarke turned out of the lot and started down the road. Octavia lasted about ten seconds before she reached over to slap her hand on the radio button.
Clarke flinched when Octavia squealed loudly into her ear.
...
Don't tell your mother
Kiss one another
Die for each other
We're cool for the summer
...
Demi Lovato's "Cool for the Summer" blasted through the speakers as Octavia sang along, the base vibrating through their seats. "Nooo," Clarke groaned throwing her head back in exaggeration.
"You don't like this song?" Octavia asked, turning the volume down.
"I've heard it so many times recently," Clarke explained, "the radio stations only play the most recent and most popular stuff over and over again and it just gets tiring."
"Well what do you want to listen to?" Octavia asked, pulling out her phone and pairing it with the car's Bluetooth.
"Alice Cooper," she replied without hesitation.
"Alice Cooper?" she spouted, "why would you…. Ohhh, yeah, ok, I got the song."
She waited for Octavia to select the right song on her music app and cheered when she heard the distinct rhythm of electric guitars and drum set percussion.
...
School's out for summer
School's out forever
School's been blown to pieces
...
They sang along to the chorus as the engine hummed and the noise from the roadway increased as they picked up speed. They took the ramp onto the highway and continued west on I-80 towards Sacramento, where they would meet up with Bellamy and Lincoln before taking the six-hour drive north on I-5 to Arcadia.
AN: another disclaimer is that I don't live in, nor have ever been to California, so I'm not that familiar with it's geography or culture.