a/n: closet weeb clarke griffin, heda the stuffed raccoon, and ontari all make triumphant returns in this chapter as the author desperately attempts to tie up loose ends in order to keep the story going at a regular pace in preparation for the final two chapters
"So," Lexa said, sitting down on the Griffin family's worn-in couch. It was the first time, she realized, that she had ever actually been past the front of Clarke's house at a reasonable hour - High School Musical didn't count, since most of the lights had been off. It seemed small, messy, honestly a bit cramped, and yet there was a charm to it that Lexa rather enjoyed. Abby - she had insisted on being called Abby, stating that the school board was going to start asking students to refer to the teachers by their first names as a way to connect with them - seemed to be having fun teaching Aden about medical terms (in the case of an emergency, she had said). "What was it that you needed to talk to me about?" Clarke looked up from the cookie in her hand to face her.
"What?"
"You said that we should 'talk at my house sometime.' I may be wrong, perhaps this is some difference between us and how people on the east coast talk compared to where I'm from, but-"
"You're from California, Lexa, not Mars. I was hoping for some small talk or something before we went right into it, maybe some innocuous hand-holding that could . . ." Clarke waggled her eyebrows. ". . . become something more once Mom finds a way to get Aden upstairs, but yeah, I needed to talk with you about something." Lexa's mind would have immediately assumed the worst had it not been for Clarke's easygoing smile and reassuring squeeze of her hand. That seemed to be a large part of how she communicated - shrugs and smiles and hand-squeezes, a tiny language all spoken in movements like that. Lexa had never figured herself to be the kind of person to find someone's body language endearing (and attractive), yet here she was. Still, her heart took the wheel from her head and pushed out the first fearful thought that popped into her thoughts.
"I'm completely fine if you believe that I'm not a good person and we should break up," Lexa blurted out without thinking. "I wouldn't want to be a bad influence on your life, nor would I mind if you told me what was wrong." She took a shuddering breath, resting against the couch's cold fabric. Clarke simply stared. "I apologize for that," Lexa said, not a second later. "I may have overreacted."
"You think that I would break up with you?" Clarke nearly laughed, barely managing to maintain a serious expression. "'Why?'" Lexa shrugged.
"I tend to think in worst-case scenarios," she admitted.
"Well, that makes two of us. Three, if you count my mom, who's probably trying to child-proof this entire house right now in case Aden runs into a table."
"Clarke. What was it that you wanted to say?" Clarke took a deep breath, clearly pensive, and Lexa let her be as she relished the feeling of relief that swept through her body. Clarke wasn't going to break up with her. Clarke found the idea of breaking up, even, to be ridiculous. That in itself provided a sense of pure, unadulterated joy that made Lexa vaguely tempted to jump off of the couch in excitement. She probably would have tripped over her own sweater, laying at her feet while she sat.
"You're too perfect," Clarke mumbled, barely audible - though whether that was because of her tone of voice or the fact that Aden's sudden yelling from upstairs drowned out most other noise, Lexa couldn't be sure.
"I'm . . . what?" Lexa hardly even tried to hide the fact that her cheeks had turned rosy pink.
"Don't make me say it again, it sounds like something the protagonist of a crappy preteen romcom would say."
"No, I feel like I misheard you."
"Did you hear 'you're too perfect?'" Clarke said, her voice unusually snippy. Lexa flinched. "Because that's what I said."
"Oh." A heavy silence fell over the two girls for a few moments before Clarke broke it with a rather dramatic groan.
"I'm being crazy, right?" she said, laughing humorlessly. "That's a ridiculous thought, that I'm worried because we're too happy. People would kill to be in our shoes, and I'm sitting here scared of some inevitable, terrible thing happening in the future." Lexa tentatively scooted closer to Clarke's spot on the couch, resting a hand on her shoulder.
"What do you mean by that?" she asked, although she understood the overall idea of what Clarke was trying to say. She had felt the same way too, once upon a time. Now, she was mostly just trying to enjoy what time she had with as little worry as possible.
"You know about the law of equivalent exchange, right? You know, equal value, trying to bring back your dead mom results in losing half of your limbs and your brother's body, that kind of thing?"
"Er, yes."
"I've always sort of thought that it applied to life, too. If you were having a really bad day, for example, maybe you'd have a really good day pretty soon afterwards."
"That's all just based on chance, though."
"Yeah, that could be true, but it's a nice hope to hold onto, that it'll all even out in the end." Lexa knew what Clarke was getting at, now.
"And it goes in the other direction, too," Lexa murmured, letting herself sink further into the couch. She hadn't noticed it during the movie night, but that couch was soft. Nothing in her house was that comfortable, that relaxing. She made a mental note to ask Abby about where she had gotten it later.
"Yeah." Clarke looked off to the side, supposedly very interested in a bird outside her window. "We're living in such a great time, I can't help but wonder if there's some great evil on the horizon or something."
"Ontari's stepmother recently joined the PTA, apparently," Lexa quipped. "That could be considered a great evil."
"She's that bad?" Clarke had turned away from the sparrow, now, lips turned upwards into a smile.
"I've been lucky enough to never attend school anywhere near Ontari - she moves around quite a bit, but never close to us until now - but I've heard rumors. Legends, supposedly."
"Like what? She poisoned the brownies at the annual bake sale?"
"Yes." If Clarke had been drinking something, she probably would have spit it out at that moment.
"T-that was a joke!" Clarke sputtered. "You're telling me she really did that?"
"It was supposedly meant to take down Helen, her arch-nemesis," Lexa replied dryly, maintaining a completely neutral expression. "She had insulted Nia's minivan."
"Geez, between that and the electronics company thing, Ontari could have her own reality show."
"I hate reality shows."
"Me too." There was another awkward pause in the conversation, this time broken by Lexa.
"Your mother makes good cookies," she said, unwilling to hear only the whir of the vents and Aden's distant yells of excitement (only a ten-year-old could take joy in learning the Heimlich maneuver, Lexa thought).
"Yeah."
"She cares about you, you know."
"Yeah."
"You should thank her for that."
"Are you worried about the student election?" Clarke asked, seemingly attempting to change the subject. "I could help you with that."
"No," Lexa admitted. "I've told you before, this is mostly a show. Nothing is truly at stake - my life is in no danger, and the student government holds no power. It'll be fine either way."
"What do you mean by that?" Clarke drummed her fingers along the edge of the couch impatiently, waiting for a response, and it occurred to Lexa that the girl next to her cared more about Lexa winning than Lexa did herself.
"If I win, then Ontari will admit defeat and leave us alone, hopefully." Lexa hoped that Clarke couldn't hear the slight waver in her voice, the uncertainty held behind her words. "If I lose, then Ontari dangles her victory in front of me and becomes too wrapped up in her pretend position of power to actually do any harm."
"I'd have expected you to hate her," Clarke said, the drumming of her fingers now stopped and replaced with a tight hold on Lexa's shoulder. "After what she did to you."
"She did as her stepmother told," Lexa replied simply, attempting to hold onto a solid façade. In truth, she couldn't stand Nia - Ontari was a pawn, a rather young pawn, but only a pawn nonetheless. She had no opinions that weren't firmly based in her upbringing, and for that, Lexa pitied her. Still, she worried, but the label of too perfect that Clarke had suddenly thrust upon her minutes ago hung heavy. "I think it'd be shooting the messenger, if I decided to focus my anger on her. No, this election doesn't matter very much, and I think that it'll be healthy for both of us once it's over."
"By 'both of us,' do you mean you and me, or you and Ontari?"
"This doesn't concern you, Clarke."
"Like hell it doesn't!" Clarke snapped. Lexa nearly fell off the couch. "We're dating, Lexa, we should be able to tell each other things like this. Let me help, at least."
"The election is in two weeks. I'm not going to spend all of my time coming up with campaign slogans and stapling posters to walls. It's all a show, Clarke, it's-"
"What happens if she wins? What happens then?" Clarke's voice seemed frantic, almost, and Lexa didn't know how to stop the desperation in her tone.
"She gets her useless victory and hopefully leaves us alone."
"Hopefully. You keep on saying that, hopefully. You're not as sure of yourself as you pretend you are, Lexa."
"Am I no longer too perfect, Clarke?" Lexa hated the sarcastic tone that crept into her voice, the bitterness of it. She didn't want to hurt her. She didn't ever want this to stop, she didn't want something as petty as a student election to be the thing that drove apart her and the girl she had fallen for. That would be stupid, she thought, not to mention the fact that she wouldn't be able to recover from a blow to her feelings like that. Considering the way Clarke had scooted back when Lexa had said too perfect in that horribly mocking tone, it seemed as if she dealt with the same problem. Raven had said something about this, Lexa remembered. Second loves were so much more fragile, so much more carefully dealt with, and yet here she was on this couch yelling at Clarke (being yelled at by Clarke, too) over this tiny thing.
"I'm . . ." Lexa looked up, half-expecting Clarke to already be on her way out the door despite this being her house. "I'm sorry, Lexa."
Oh.
"I'm sorry, too," Lexa mumbled. "We've both set unrealistic expectations for this, haven't we? We're still young, Clarke, young and imperfect, just like Ontari and Raven and everyone else we know. High schoolers are idiots, most of the time, I don't get why we would be the exception."
"That's a pretty long-winded apology," Clarke chuckled. "Not to mention the fact that you sort of called all of my friends idiots, but I'll accept it."
"It's a backhanded compliment."
"Sure, Jan."
"Raven said that once, too. What does it mean?"
"Oh my god."
The evening passed by far too quickly, Aden still cheerfully exploring the Griffin household as Clarke and Lexa talked and snuggled on the couch, sometimes blurting out terrible puns for campaign slogans. The tension, it seemed, had eased to a manageable amount.
"Your eyes are the greenest eyes I've ever seen," Clarke said, nestling her head on Lexa's shoulder. "I don't think anyone else has eyes like that."
"Do you always see the world in artistic thoughts like that?" Lexa asked. "Do you look at a tree and think 'that holds an ancient, indescribable power,' and then draw it?"
"Sometimes, yeah. I draw people for the most part, though. Landscapes, when I'm in the mood for it. I could draw you some posters for the student election, if you want."
"Back to that again, hmm?" Clarke looked down at the carpet.
"Well, I guess you could say . . . uh . . . I'm out of crappy puns."
"Wood-n't you vote for someone who promises to make a change in the school?" Lexa said, completely straight-faced. Clarke burst out laughing.
"How long have you been saving that one?"
"About five minutes. I was trying to avoid mentioning the subject again if I could help it."
"That one was pretty bad, I'll give you credit for that. Like, sitcom-bad. The kind of thing that would have a forced laugh track played after it."
"I thought it was somewhat clever, actually."
"You're a dork." Clarke planted a kiss on Lexa's lips.
"You're dating a dork," Lexa responded, returning in kind.
"You're both keeping it PG-13, I hope," Abby said, standing above the couch with Aden hanging from her hip. "There's a kid here, Clarke, I wouldn't want you two doing anything inappropriate." Clarke very desperately wished for the couch to swallow her whole and dump her into another dimension where her mother wasn't making allusions to her daughter and Lexa doing non-PG-13 things on the family couch. Lexa seemed unaffected, however, and instead only waved to Aden.
"We're doing fine, Ms. - I mean, Abby," she said, very subtly scooting away from Clarke.
"Well, as long as you're staying safe and having a good time." With that, Abby walked away, Aden trailing behind her like a baby duckling. Clarke had curled up into a ball, trying her best to bury herself under every pillow available in the room.
"She's surprisingly calm about all of this," Lexa noted, plucking a pillow off of Clarke's head. Clarke let out an indignant squeal and snatched it back.
"What do you mean?" she said, her voice muffled underneath the impromptu pillow fort. Lexa lightly swatted her with one of the pillows.
"I showed up to take you to dinner a few months ago, then we started dating not much later, and now she's ready to assume that we're going to do it in the living room, in the middle of the day, yet she's extremely nonchalant about it. It's . . . nice, if a bit unsettling at times."
"Yeah. She's a cool mom."
"Cool doesn't begin to describe it. She's a goddess."
"Well, that makes two people I know and deeply care about who see my mom as an ethereal being. Weird."
"Who's the other?"
"Raven. The two of them struck up some kind of friendship back when I was still in middle school. I think she was happier than she let on that I became friends with her the next year, even if we met in detention."
"Raven did something worthy of detention? That's not unexpected at all."
"Actually, she didn't. She was hanging out in the classroom where good ole' Pike held me and Octavia after school, and seeing how we didn't have much else to do, we started talking to her, and soon enough, the three of us were eating lunch together and sharing everything with each other, even after the . . . Finn Incident. Or the Finncident, as Raven calls it." Clarke smiled at the memory. "Lincoln showed up about halfway through freshman year, and it didn't take much for him to join us, too."
"It was that easy?" Lexa incredulously asked. "You didn't . . . you didn't have any kind of hesitation or fears associated with suddenly becoming part of this group?" Clarke blinked.
"Why would I? I already knew Octavia beforehand, Raven's the nicest person ever once you get to know her, and Lincoln is a giant teddy bear. They're a pretty cool group of people, really. We're a small family, I guess. It's nice."
"That sounds wonderful," Lexa murmured, and Clarke decided not to comment on the fact that Lexa's usual neutral expression had been replaced by a big, dopey smile. "I didn't have very many friends at my old school, admittedly." Lexa twiddled her thumbs nervously. "Would it . . . would it be alright if I joined you and your friends tomorrow? I mean, I would, uh, I'd hate to be keeping you away from them."
"I thought you'd never ask."
Lexa had not expected to feel such a rush of excitement as she woke up the next morning, absentmindedly grasping at a pillow. Aden seemed somewhat confused (and fairly tired, considering the fact that the sun hadn't even risen yet) but accepted Lexa's sudden change in demeanor with surprising grace.
"Are you gonna hang out with cool friend lady again today?" he asked on the bus as the elementary school came into view. A swift breeze blew through the bus, and Lexa nestled further into her sweater.
"Yes," she replied.
"Cool!" Aden squeaked, pumping his fist in the air. "She's awesome! Her mom's awesome, too! She says I'm cute and ruffles my hair sometimes! And she knows what a cartoon is!"
"I know what a cartoon is!" Lexa yelped, somewhat indignant.
"Yeah, but she watches 'em. Apparently cool friend lady's really into these special ones, I think they're called . . . annie-somethings? I kinda forgot."
"I'll be sure to ask her," Lexa said, knowing exactly what Aden was talking about.
"Okay! Hey, this is my stop! See ya, Lexa!" Aden scampered off the bus with a gap-toothed grin on his face, lunch box swinging back and forth in his grubby hands, and Lexa felt the need once again to protect him from any dangers the world could hold. Her phone doot-doot-dooted in her pocket, but she ignored it.
"Stay safe!" she called. Aden was already halfway inside.
Clarke had barely managed to get out of bed, let alone get dressed, fear weighing heavily in her stomach as her phone felt as if it were burning a hole in her pocket. By the time she had left the house, the bus was already just about to leave, and she just hardly got on, sluggish and exhausted. She had forgotten to leave Heda in her room, and would have fallen asleep again on the bus with the stuffed raccoon in her arms had it not been for the driver's utter refusal to pay any attention to potholes. Arkadia came into view, and Clarke stumbled inside with the contents of her backpack spilling out behind her.
"Stay safe, kid!" the bus driver yelled. Clarke grunted in response, holding up her mug of coffee to acknowledge that she had heard him.
"Why do I feel so crappy?" she said aloud, resting her hand on a staircase's sleek metal railing. "It can't be because I'm worried about Lexa, right?"
"Oh, of course it's because you're worried about Lexa, coward!" Clarke groaned as soon as she heard the voice, that grating tone with such vanity held in it that made Clarke want to scream. "She needs an army to protect her, after all, the sweet princess - or should I say cornmander - who only cares about herself."
"What does that make you, then?" Clarke muttered, taking a long swig of her coffee. "Some kind of goddamn hero? What do you even have against Lexa, huh?" The sky was gray outside, rain pouring down and heavily pattering against the school's windows. "Did she destroy something important to you?"
"I'll be pleasing Nia if I manage to knock her down one way or another," Ontari growled. There was venom in her voice, a coldness that made Clarke flinch despite the fact that Ontari wasn't intimidating in the slightest. "We all want to please someone, don't we, Clarke?" Ontari spat out Clarke's name as if it were an insult.
"You're a spoiled teenager." Clarke wasn't about to trade insults with a freshman this early in the morning.
"You're a wannabe artist who pretends to hold the world on her shoulders in order to keep yourself grounded."
"Wait, how did you-"
"Zip up your backpack once in a while, Griffin. Your crap's everywhere." Ontari dangled a drawing of a field of flowers in front of her. "You're pathetic."
"You're expecting me to be hurt by that?" Clarke said. "You do realize that I'm too tired to care, right? You're not even really a bully, you're just a-"
"Oh, this is cute. Kinda dumb-looking, like something a dork would have around, but I guess it could be . . . fun." Clarke was just about to storm out before she saw the gray mass Ontari was holding in her other hand.
"Heda," she breathed. Clarke silently cursed herself for being so careless as to bring the stuffed animal to school, where this self-obsessed freshman held some kind of actual power. She cursed herself again for actually caring about said stuffed animal.
"Oh, that's its name?" Ontari dangled Heda in front of Clarke's face before snatching her back, button eyes glinting in the dim light of the school. "Sounds pretty dumb, if you ask me."
"Give it back," Clarke said, feeling an odd hope that Ontari would perhaps hear the wavering tone in her voice.
"Oh, and what if I-" Ontari's taunt was abruptly cut off by a glint of what could have been metal flashed in front of her, and Clarke silently fist-pumped.
"I bet you didn't see that coming, huh?" Octavia drew the sword back and swung it behind her head, a cocky smirk on her face. "Seriously," she whispered. "Did you see me coming? I've been working on my stealth, y'know." Ontari's eyes flicked to the glinting sword.
"You wouldn't . . . you couldn't use that! Something like that can't be used in a school environment! They'll throw you out!"
"Oh, this?" Octavia held up the sword again. "Fake, as far as you and the school board are concerned." Ontari simply stood, her mouth agape.
"Was this all a big setup? Was it just some way to ensure a victory for Woods?"
"Not really," Clarke admitted. "Raven told me that Lexa had said something about how you didn't really have any morals-"
"Thanks."
"-and how you would probably try to personally target her friends. I think she was expecting something more like a fistfight, but this came close enough. I told Octavia here that coming to school early might, uh, help both of us with certain things."
"In this case, my stealth skills," Octavia said proudly, a hint of arrogance creeping into her voice.
"This is madness," Ontari growled, beginning to back away. "Complete, utter madness. My stepmother will have your heads, you know! She'll hear about what happened to her dear little heir and then-"
"Oh, you mean how you stole a sophomore's toy and then another sophomore played around with a pretend sword? Yeah, super terrible. Speaking of which, I'll be taking that off your hands now." Octavia plucked Heda from Ontari's hands and tossed her to Clarke, who caught the stuffed animal with ease.
"Fools! All of you, you'll all regret it!" With that, Ontari dashed down the hallway, quietly cackling to herself.
"I'm not the only one who thinks she's bonkers, right?" Octavia whispered.
"Nope."
"Did I miss something?" Lexa asked, shuffling her feet on the carpeted floor. Clarke blinked. "I heard some commotion and-"
"Everything's fine, Lexa," Clarke said.
"Your wacko cousin tried to steal Clarke's stuffed raccoon," Octavia interjected. "I think we dealt with it, though." Lexa blankly looked from her to Clarke to the sword lying on the floor.
"Is that a real sword?" she asked. Octavia let out a nervous chuckle.
"Maybe."
"Your friends are still extremely strange, Clarke."
Lexa was excited, despite having every reason not to be, to spend her lunch period with Clarke and her friends.
I'm no longer feeling the burden of keeping Clarke away from others she cares about, she thought, trying to rationalize the light feeling in her chest. My girlfriend - because she is my girlfriend, unbelievable as that may seem - doesn't feel obligated to me anymore, which will hopefully get rid of any remaining tension from the talk about the election yesterday. Lexa could feel her lips curling into a smile as she approached the spot on the grassy hill. That's all. Nothing more.
"Hey, Lexa!" Raven yelled. "It took you long enough to join us, huh?" Clarke scooted over to make room as Octavia and Lincoln whispered what Lexa could only imagine were sweet nothings to each other.
"We don't bite," Octavia added. Lexa found her seat next to Clarke, smiling softly.
"They're kind of scary at first," Clarke said, "but I think you know by now that these people are actually the greatest group of absolute nerds anyone could ask for."
"You've mentioned that before," Lexa murmured, letting herself lean against Clarke for warmth. "I've always known, you know. Your people . . . they seem trustworthy. I simply wasn't ready for them." Clarke kissed the crown of her head.
"Yeah, I figured." The sky overhead was still downcast, gray and dreary, yet Lexa felt a strange warmth within her, though whether it was from the feeling of being with the girl she was in love with or the little family that seemed to sit in this circle, she had no idea.
She had no idea at all, and she loved every second of it.
The group had more or less dispersed by the end of the lunch period, going their separate ways to classes, before Clarke saw Lexa whisper something to Raven.
"I'll see you later, Clarke," Lexa said, waving as she walked away with Raven. Clarke gave her a wink in response and was once again reminded of the fact that her girlfriend and her best friend had calculus together, and yet the fact seemed to sit fine with her. Lexa seemed to be having the time of her life alongside Clarke's friends, and she wasn't jealous in the slightest. No, she was happy - Lexa wasn't alone anymore, no longer sitting on rooftops with only plants to keep her company, and Clarke began to wonder if maybe her fear of things going wrong, the law of equivalent exchange, was simply an unfounded thought of paranoia.
"Yeah," she said aloud to the dark sky. "Yeah, maybe things are alright."
Aden is either entirely ignorant of any changes in demeanor, or he's just trying to be nice and not say anything regarding the matter. Lexa mulled over which it could be as Aden skipped ahead of her on the short walk home, the bus speeding away behind the two.
"I heard about this super cool thing that's happening next year!" Aden chirped.
"What thing?" Lexa asked.
"You know my favorite movie, right?"
"Yes. How could I forget?"
"Well . . . it's getting a cartoon! Some kid at school said that was true, at least, but I dunno if she was telling the truth."
"It'd be best if you don't believe-"
"Dog!" Aden abruptly stopped in his tracks, excitedly pointing out something on the sidewalk ahead.
"I thought the movie was about a robot."
"No, look! There's a dog right there!" Sure enough, a large golden-furred dog sat several feet ahead, its pink tongue lolling out of its mouth.
"Careful, Aden," Lexa said, cautiously approaching the animal. Aden shared no such apprehension and raced ahead to pet the dog. It barked joyously, tail wagging so fast that Lexa wondered if a dog's tail could fall off.
"He likes me!" Aden squeaked. The dog licked him as if to confirm this. It seemed to be a stray, from what Lexa could see - no collar in sight, fur matted in places, ribs showing through - and yet its eyes shone brightly, still barking with joy. Aden began to walk ahead, giving the dog a farewell pat, and it immediately followed him. Lexa was at an utter loss as to what to do. The quiet doot-doot-doot of her phone failed to snap her out of her thoughts until it had practically vibrated out of her pocket, and it was only then when she decided to finally check it.
the best gf in existence: Lexa!
the best gf in existence: You left a bunch of your books at school.
the best gf in existence: Should I come over and drop them off?
Lexa: my brother has fallen in love with a stray dog
the best gf in existence: ...Okay.
Lexa: it won't stop following him and soon he's going to ask me if we can keep it and i won't be able to refuse
Lexa: please help
the best gf in existence: How does your uncle feel about pets? Maybe Aden /could/ keep it. It could teach him about responsibility and stuff.
Lexa: i doubt it
the best gf in existence: What do you want me to do about it?
Lexa: help
the best gf in existence: Specific.
Lexa: maybe you could also bring those books and that way it wouldn't just be you showing up on the sidewalk for no reason
the best gf in existence: I'll be there in fifteen minutes.
"You're just going to drop everything and run to your girlfriend because she's experiencing a small problem, huh?" Raven said, leaning over Clarke's shoulder.
"The bus hasn't come yet," Clarke replied matter-of-factly. "It's not like I'm missing anything. I'll just get the next bus to Lexa's side of town and take a taxi home."
"You don't even take the bus!" Octavia yelled, exasperated, as she threw her gloved hands in the air. Clarke and Raven turned to face her. "Your mom works at the school! She drives you home!"
"She needed to stay at school for a meeting," Clarke said. It wasn't a lie, in any case, but it also helped stop Octavia from protesting more. "I'm caught up with my homework, so it won't be a problem if I go out of my way for an hour to help Lexa with an unexpected stray dog."
"Do what you want," Octavia sighed. "All I can say is that you owe me, Clarke." Raven looked at both of them with confusion.
"Did I miss something?" she asked.
"That sword-obsessed maniac tried to kill me!" Clarke jumped at the sudden yell. Ontari stood with a scowl on her face, two seniors looming behind her.
"It was a fake sword," Octavia deadpanned. "If it had been real, you probably wouldn't be standing here."
"You'll pay for this!" Ontari spat.
"So you've said."
"I'm serious! You're all crazy! All of you!" Ontari seemed to tremble, nearly, though Clarke got the feeling that it wasn't really anger she was shaking from. She felt a strange pang of sympathy for the girl. "You pretend to be living in some ideal utopia, but what is it really? Life's going to catch up to you someday, and then you'll be sorry! You'll be sorry that you ever hoped it'd be any good! We're all just pawns, you know, pawns in the plans of some crazy ruler who hangs above us."
"Now, now, aren't we quite the philosopher?" Raven said dryly. One of Ontari's cronies started chuckling, and she silenced him with a glare. "You're a weird kid, you know that?" Ontari gave Clarke one last withering glare before stalking off, head held high.
"I feel bad for her," Clarke murmured. Raven blinked.
"Why? Didn't she do some terrible thing to Lexa?"
"Yeah, she did, and I can't forgive her for that, but . . . she seems lonely." Clarke could still hear Ontari stamping on the ground, yelling unintelligible things to her two followers. "I don't think she really likes being all high-and-mighty. She's still a kid."
"We're all still kids," Octavia pointed out. "Lexa's the only one out of this entire friend group who even has a driver's license. Speaking of Lexa, you'd better get going. I doubt that dog's going to wait forever, y'know." Clarke nodded, giving Raven and Octavia a quick wave before setting off in the direction of the bus.
"She really is smitten, huh?" Raven sighed.
"Oh, she's a hopeless dork. I know one of my kind when I see one."
Clarke reached Lexa about twenty minutes later, out of breath and sweating despite the cold weather.
"Is the - huff - dog still - hah - here?" Lexa pointed ahead, where the dog now lay on the sidewalk with Aden petting it.
"He really does seem to like it," Clarke noted.
"I would let Aden bring it home if we were allowed," Lexa said, somewhat defensive.
"Uncle said that I could get a pet if I worked super hard in school!" Aden squeaked. "I've been working super hard, so maybe he'll let me keep him!"
"He meant a goldfish, not a gigantic dog." Aden looked at the dog again for a moment, apparently deep in thought, before perking up.
"I'll name him Fish, then!"
"I can't take him to the pound, can I?" Lexa whispered. "It would break Aden's heart."
"He's known the dog for two minutes," Clarke said, squeezing Lexa's hand reassuringly. "I think he'll live."
"He's lonely," Lexa countered. "A companion, even of the furry sort, could be good for him."
"You're going to just hide the dog for . . . uh, let's see, it's an adult golden retriever which means that it'll probably live for about eight more years? Eight years?"
"Our uncle doesn't spend very much time in the house. As long as Aden doesn't say anything and uses a good portion of his allowance on food and bedding and other such necessities, it won't be a very large problem."
"You just brought me here to witness your plan, you nerd." Clarke leaned in closer. "I guess I could help you bring Fish here back to your house."
"Are you two gonna do the kissing now?" Aden asked, practically slumped over the dog at this point. Lexa turned red.
"Yes," Clarke replied, and kissed Lexa on the cheek. "Now, I think there's a dog in need of a home." Fish let out a quiet woof in what could have been agreement.
Lexa's house, Clarke soon realized, was significantly further away than she had first thought. At least, it seemed that way at the moment, with Aden stopping every few steps to give Fish a pat on the head.
"If this doesn't work out," Lexa whispered, "do you think your mother could be convinced to keep him, Clarke?" Clarke shook her head.
"Nope. She's allergic. Raven might, though."
"She would most likely blow the dog up."
"True."
"We're here!" Aden cheered, spreading his arms out in front of the Woods family's rather large house. "This is your new home, Fish!"
"You can come inside," Lexa offered. "It's the least we can do, considering how I dragged you here to help out with the dog situation."
"Yeah, c'mon, cool friend lady!" Aden was already halfway into the house, letting Fish bounce around his legs. Clarke shrugged.
"Oh, what the hell."
The dining room was eerily silent as Aden ran into the backyard with Fish at his heels. Lexa drummed her fingers on the wooden table.
"I heard about what happened this morning," she said. Then, after a pause, "in detail."
"Raven told you?"
"We attend a school comprised of about three hundred students, Clarke. News travels fast. Besides, I suppose a few of the freshmen have been . . . enjoying themselves, in regards to this supposed 'war' between Ontari and myself. Not very much happens at this school, from what I've seen. It's lovely - incredible, even, how caring of an environment it is, but sometimes people can't exactly appreciate that, and so they set out to create drama."
"They're idiots," Clarke muttered. She noticed idly that the house didn't have very much in the way of comfortable furniture - most of it seemed either shiny and brand-new or taken from an antiques shop in pristine condition. Metal chairs gleamed beside old grandfather clocks, and the only things that even indicated that a kid might live there were the occasional toy left on the spotless floor and the video games stacked around the television (unused, right now, on account of the fact that Aden was still playing with Fish in the backyard). Clarke shivered. "Who would want problems to come up? It's not even a terrible thing, you're just running against-"
"I'm just running against a power-hungry freshman who cares about no one but herself, and she will leave us alone one way or another." Lexa's voice grew sharper, more commanding, and Clarke flinched. "It's not as big of a deal as people are making it out to be, so I don't think we should continue to bring it up in every conversation."
"You were the one who brought it up!"
"As pointless as this all is, as little power as Ontari holds, I don't want you to get hurt, Clarke." Lexa's voice softened, unclenching her fist from where it lay on the table. Clarke relaxed in her seat.
"I don't think she really wants to do this," Clarke murmured.
"What?"
"There was something . . . hesitant, in the way she was yelling at us today. Like she was afraid of us."
"Octavia threatened her with a potentially false sword. I would be afraid too."
"No, it wasn't really like she was afraid of us as people . . . more like the repercussions."
"She doesn't want to lose her reputation."
"She's a lost little kid."
"You change sides quite a bit, Clarke."
"I don't like seeing people get hurt."
"I've grown up, for as long as I can remember, knowing that I would someday inherit a corporation that nobody but my immediate family cared about. I don't care about it either, if you want the truth, but . . ." Lexa trailed off, voice shaking, and Clarke stood up from the ornate chair to wrap her in a hug. "I can't push that burden onto Aden, I can't. I wouldn't even wish it upon Ontari, as terrible as she can be sometimes." Clarke could see Aden nudging Fish into a shed, giving him one last pat on the head before closing the door.
"You bear it so they don't have to?"
"Something like that, yes."
"Who runs that company right now, anyway? I mean, you're still in high school, so . . ." Clarke began to absentmindedly run her fingers through Lexa's hair, suddenly feeling somewhat sleepy.
"At the moment, it's-"
Whatever Lexa was about to say was cut off by the creaking of the house's front doors as a looming figure stepped through. Clarke squinted, trying to figure out where she had seen the person in the doorway, before being abruptly shoved underneath the table by a shaking Lexa.
"What the hell?" Clarke whispered. "Lexa, what's going on?"
"Shh."
"Where is Aden?" the newcomer asked. Clarke's eyes widened.
"He's in the yard, Uncle," Lexa replied.
Uncle?
"I should see to him, then." Clarke caught a glimpse of the figure leaving the room, confirming her theory.
"Mr. Chips?"