The real world didn't abide by her rules and wishes; of that Lexa was sure. And yet, the universe must have heard her desire for another chance with the girl who had passed the many days following "the incident"—a day that Lexa decided had shamed her reign as queen and would henceforth live in infamy—outright ignoring the mortified brunette. Under any other circumstances, Lexa would have cherished the empty looks and the shoves—she couldn't help but wonder if Clarke was going easy on her, because the blonde was known for her athletic prowess but was grazing Lexa's shoulders rather than shoving her. However, this was her sky princess, and though she appreciated the eye and physical contact, Lexa ached to make things right.
So when the universe gave her an opportunity to share the same space as her cross classmate, for the first time in her short life, Lexa felt lucky. The miracle came in the most unexpected way. March was nearing its end, spring was blossoming and on that day, Lexa woke up with a pit in her stomach signaling an important event. She went through significant dates with Anya: each of her friends' first appearance in her world, her dad leaving, Louie and Kitty's adoption, the four times her mother told her she loved her, the first time Clarke smiled at her… None of these events happened anywhere close to this day. Lexa brushed off her peculiar impression and went about her daily routine, taking extra care of her appearance, for she had chemistry class, and was hoping that while Clarke stared holes through her, she was still seeing the apologetic girl before her.
As soon as she set foot in chemistry class though, even before she could bask in the revelation that was the girl sitting in the far corner, her teacher informed her that the principal wanted to see her at her office. The sinking feeling in her stomach intensifying, Lexa headed with heavy steps to said office. The principal loved her, she knew as much. Whatever Lexa lacked in social skills, she made up for in academics. She had been first in her class for as far as she could remember, and had the valedictorian thing locked down; only she didn't want it. She wasn't going to address a whole crowd of raging teenagers, when she spent her childhood refusing to address a single one of them. She wondered if now was a good time to bring the subject up with the smitten principal, then thought better of it; she had to see what was needed of her first.
A beaming lady in her mid-forties, dressed to the nines—as was always the case—with hair pulled back in a bun greeted her warmly. Lexa valued whatever small interactions she had with the kind woman. She knew it was silly, but she thought of her as a mother figure, affectionate and attentive to her needs; after all, her exchanges with her real mother barely outnumbered the ones she shared with her principal.
She was pulled away from her thoughts by a soft voice.
"My dear Lexa, it has been far too long. You never visit and since you don't give me any reason to call for you, I have to content myself with your teachers' testimonials; which are stellar of course!"
Lexa nodded in response, and rewarded her principal with a small pull of the lips to the side.
"Right. You're not one to beat around the bush. I've always admired that in you! Listen my dear girl. I, make that the school, has a favor to ask you. Now I know you won't be thrilled about this, but keep in mind that it would look great on your record. Even though your record is pristine! I'm not trying to put any pressure on you here… You see, she needs your help; but she won't admit it… Her parents, they're at the end of their rope. I don't know how to ask you this…
For someone who just told her she valued straightforwardness, the nervous lady sure was taking her time. Lexa was confused; was she so scary that a grown woman who was in charge of a whole bunch of people—much like Lexa herself—was intimidated by her? She was tempted to laugh at that ridiculous theory, then remembered it wasn't something she allowed herself to do in public. When a moment passed and the principal was still pausing, Lexa took pity on her and tried to speed things along.
"Madam principal, I know you wouldn't ask me to do something I am not comfortable with. And I trust you know me well enough to discern the things that make me uncomfortable. State what the matter at hand is and I give you my word that I will give it careful consideration before making a decision."
The woman now looked at her in amusement—as she often did when Lexa spoke up. Lexa had grown so curious to understand that look that she had once mustered up enough courage to inquire about it. It turns out her principal found her way of expressing herself "so formal it was endearing". Lexa didn't get it, but thought she was better off not understanding.
"Very well then, my well-spoken angel. Here's the matter at hand: one of your classmates is failing chemistry and her parents would like for her to be tutored by our best student—you."
Lexa suddenly understood what she was feeling all morning. Her stomach was now in knots, and she could sense sweat seeping through her palms. Once again, for the second time that year, words pushed their way out of her throat on their own accord.
"Who?"
"Clarke Griffin. Now I know she can be…"
"Yes."
"Sorry?"
"I will tutor her. When do we start."
Her question sounded more like a statement, but she didn't want to leave room for hesitation. This was too crucial to risk messing it up.
"Lexa, are you sure you comprehend what is being asked of you? You will have to spend a lot of time with Miss Griffin, and she can be… a handful? With your… particular social skills, she will…"
"Yes. I'm sure. I have been wanting to interact with my classmates more. With the impending graduation and a speech to prepare, I need to know more about them. And who better to start with than queen bee herself. Yolo, as kids say nowadays."
Who was she right now? How could the mere mention of the sky girl turn her into a quick on her feet, smooth talker? And did she just agree to give the valedictorian speech? This was not good. She should put a stop to this right this instant. She hadn't even had a real conversation with Clarke, and the fascinating girl was already changing her. Perhaps for the better? No, this wasn't right. She was going to tell the principal she was joking. She never made jokes, but she figured the woman wouldn't find it any odder than the insane monologue she just listened to. She cleared her throat and hoped for the best.
"If that is all, I would like to be excused. Chemistry class has started and I should not miss any of it. After all, I am studying for two."
The principal looked at her with lost eyes, and Lexa swore her hair had become disheveled. The woman was at a loss for words—which the usually silent girl found ironic. She merely gestured for Lexa to go about her business and as she was exiting her office, Lexa looked back at the still puzzled lady and thanked her. She had never meant any words more. She was grateful to her principal, to Clarke's parents, to the inventor of chemistry; grateful for Clarke's priorities that obviously didn't involve studying; for her own, which involved nothing else. She was grateful to be alive. Her heart was thumping so hard in her chest she felt waves reverberating in her ears. For a moment, she feared she would drop dead on her way to class. But no; she couldn't die. Not now. Not when she finally had something to live for.
