So I'm still not on AO3, still waiting for the invitation from them. So until then I'm still just on here.

Disclaimer: I do not own The 100. If I did, Ricky would get revenge.

Chapter 4

Lexa's P.O.V.

By the time I finish my social justice class it's 12:30. I know that Lincoln and Anya are still in their classes so I have some time to kill while I wait for them so I walk around the campus for a while, keeping my head down I almost totally ram whoever is in front of me down. They grab me by the arms to help steady us both and I look up to see Clarke. I mumble out an apology and she grins widely at me, before telling me it's okay. We bend down to pick up the stuff we both dropped. After I grab my books, I help her out with her things. Paintbrushes and pencils litter the ground along with a canvas. Huh, I never thought of her as being an artist. Once everything is picked up, I stand up again hoping to escape as fast as possible, I am thoroughly embarrassed, I can't believe I just walked into her. Before I can get too far, someone grabs my wrist. It's Clarke.

"Hey. My friends are still in their classes and I have time to kill before my next one, do you wanna grab something to eat?" I blush a bright red and nod. No harm in getting some lunch, right? Her grip on my wrist quickly switches to my hand.

"Come on, I have a friend who works at a diner around here and he's always willing to give me a discount." She smiles back at me as she drags me along.

A couple more minutes of walking and we come up on a small diner. A fluorescent flashes the name "Jaha's" in big bright red letters. The second we walk inside my senses are hit by everything. The small chatter by the other couple customers sitting on stools and in booths and workers shouting out orders, the smell of freshly brewed coffee and fresh bread, and so much more. Despite how small they are, they seem to get a lot of business and just from walking in I can understand more. Clarke pulls me by my hand over to a booth in the corner of the diner and as we sit down, a large, dark-skinned boy in an apron walks over and hugs Clarke from behind. She's shocked for a second before she smiles and turns around, hugging him properly.

"Hey, Wells. Long time no see. How have you been?" She greets the boy, Wells, it seems.

"Hey princess, I'm good. Been helping dad out 'round here, it always gets crazy once the semester starts. How have you been? I haven't seen you since dad's wedding to Allie." He replies. I quietly watch the interaction; I feel like I'm intruding on their reunion.

She smacks him lightly on the shoulder. "Don't call me princess, I'm not a little girl anymore. Anyway I've been good, thankful I'm able to get away from Arkadia for a while, it was way too crowded there. I'm majoring in art right now."

I notification from my phone startles me and pulls their attention from each other. I blush and check my phone to see a text from Lincoln.

From: Bro

Heya, Ai odon. Ai kamp raun yu and Oktavia wogeda. Ai op yu den.

It's become kind of an unspoken rule of my family that we only ever text each other in Trigedasleng.

"Oh." My attention is pulled from my phone by Clarke. I send Lincoln a quick ait as Clarke introduces me. "Wells, this is Lexa, she's a friend of the Blake's from Polis. Lexa, this is Wells, he and his dad run the place. I've known them both practically since the day I was born."

I shake Wells' hand in greeting and the three of us settle down. As Wells leaves to get us what we ordered an awkward silence falls over me and Clarke. God, I hate this. I'm fighting with my brain trying to think of something to talk about. As Wells drops of our drinks, coffee with creamer and two sugars for Clarke, and a simple black coffee for me, Clarke decides to try to start a conversation.

"So, are you taking social justice? I saw you coming out of that building." I nod in response.

"So, what got you into it?" My eyes light up. My reason for getting into social justice is exactly what I plan on fixing in this country. It's one of the very few things I get confident about. I'm not going to let what happened to me growing up stand in the way of changing the country for the better. There is so much inequality in this world and I intend on changing that. I tell Clarke exactly so. She has her chin resting on her hand as I talk.

'God, she probably doesn't want to hear this. I'm probably boring the shit out of her so she doesn't have to suffer.'

As I start to trail off, I finish with, "but, yeah." I clear my throat. "Basically all of the shit my family went through is what got me into it. Just because of where we were from we weren't treated equally. Nothing much really to it." I shrug and look down at my mug of coffee, then at my phone on the table, wishing Lincoln, or Anya, or someone would text me to pull me out of this so I can hide in embarrassment.

"That's a great reason. And a great plan for the future. I personally don't think I'd be able to work in that line of field, you have to be really rational and calm when dealing with those situations, I wouldn't be able to do that, especially if I grew up in those exact same situations. So where are you from?" Wells drops off our food quickly before being called back over to someone else.

I look up from the table. "I'm uh- I'm from Maryland." She looks at me questioningly and I correct myself.

"I'm from Trikru. It's a small village-more like a tribe in Maryland." She nods in understanding.

Wanting to get the attention off of me, I ask her, "So, are you an art major?" She nods proudly. I ask her the same question she asked me earlier and her eyes soften as she looks away.

"My dad." She says, and then is quiet for a while before continuing. "He was always supportive of me no matter what I would do, and when I told him I wanted to be an artist when I grew up, he didn't stop. My mother wanted me to follow in her footsteps and become a surgeon, but my dad talked her into letting me make my own decisions."

I nod. "He sounds like a great man." I tell her.

"He was." She smiles sadly and nods. "But, my dad passed away four years ago. Cancer."

'Great, she probably thinks I'm an asshole now. Way to go.'

The silence falls over us again as we eat and eventually Wells comes around with the bill. Obviously sensing the mood, he doesn't stay long and soon we're heading out the door.

"I'm sorry." I say quietly after a few minutes of walking. She nods to me and it's quiet again.

"I understand what it's like," I tell her.

'No, don't talk to her about this now, I'm just gonna make her sad about her dad again, she doesn't want to think about his death.'

I continue on anyway. "I actually lost both of my parents a few years ago." She looks up at me in shock.

"Can I-can I ask how?" She asks timidly.

"They were shot." I say. "In an alley on their way back home. It was a hate crime; it was so clearly a hate crime. But no one treated it like one, no one even treated it like murder. My parents didn't get the justice they deserve. That's why I decided to go into Social Justice."

She squeezes my hand lightly and the rest of our walk back to our dorms is in silence, only this time, it's not awkward.

I yawn as I walk back to my dorm, Clarke already went back in hers. I could so take a nap, looking at my watch I see that my next class isn't for another three hours.

Unfortunately, the second I open my door, I'm forced awake by the sight of a shirtless Blake and Lincoln practically shoving their tongues down each other's throats. I cover my eyes and yell at them, seemingly pulling them out of paradise as they scramble to cover up.

I must have yelled pretty loud because Clarke and Raven burst out of their room and come see what made me yell. A wicked grin spreads across Raven's face.

"It's about time you got some, Blake." She says loudly, causing the two culprits to blush bright red.

"Heya, ai odon. Ai kamp raun yu and Oktavia wogeda. Ai op yu den."- "Hey, I'm done. I'm going to your's and Octavia's dorm. See you then."

"Ait"- "okay"

Was this a little too dramatic? I feel like it was. Also I have no idea what I'm doing with Raven's character, she's not going to be a pervert I promise you that, but she is going to be like that friend.

So, until next time, peace

-Ted