Chapter Four

Dinner was pleasant, albeit strange. Clarke kept expecting their parents to show up, apologizing for being late for dinner—much like her mom had every time she'd stayed late at the hospital and left Clarke in the care of their neighbors—but it was just the four of them.

Anya sat at the head of the table and Aden sat to her right; Lexa to her left. Clarke sat next to Lexa and sometimes knocked her foot with the other girls under the table, though there was plenty of space for them to avoid it. Neither of them really cared about making an effort. Besides, Clarke wasn't paying that much attention as she practically inhaled Anya's stew. Aden was right, this was delicious. She wondered how the other two could practically pick at it with distaste.

"So," Anya asked, after a few moments of comfortable silence, "how's school going, guys? The kids treating you right? Other than Clarke and Indra, I mean?" She smirked when Lexa closed the mouth she'd immediately opened to respond.

The brunette shrugged. "It's fine," she said. "Nobody really bothers me that much."

"That much?" Both Anya and Clarke echoed this, both looking at Lexa with concern. She refused to look back at either of them and took another spoonful of stew into her mouth, instead. Clarke knocked her foot under the table; purposefully, this time.

Lexa glanced sideways at her and sighed. "I'm fine," she said. "It's just a few of the guys on my team." She didn't elaborate.

"Who?" Clarke prompted. "Is it Murphy? Because he's kind of a dick. You shouldn't take anything he says too seriously, you know. He just likes getting a rise out of people. He thinks it's—"

"It's not only him," Lexa murmured and then Anya's hand was on her wrist and Clarke could see the barely restrained anger in her eyes.

"Who else, Lex?" she asked, her voice solid as steel, leaving no room for argument.

Lexa took a deep breath and shook her head. "An, it's not a big deal—"

"Alexandria," Anya said, her voice stern and somehow scarier than before. "Who?"

Lexa rolled her eyes and leaned back in her chair. "Bellamy Blake," she sighed. Clarke's fists clenched. Blake wasn't typically a jerk, but she knew how he could be when he didn't like something or someone and he wasn't really used to not getting his own way. His parents were pretty wealthy and he'd been playing sports his entire life. His sister, Octavia, was one of Clarke's good friends and she often had to hear about how Bellamy was way too overprotective, as if she were some ceramic tea cup that might chip at the slightest breeze. It was the main reason she hadn't made it onto the football team.

"Ignore him," Clarke suggested. "Or punch him out. That's what Octavia does."

"That's his sister, right?" Lexa asked, grinning. "Lincoln talks about her a lot."

"I bet," Clarke snorted. "They're like freaking Romeo and Juliet, except the only thing standing between them is her brother."

"An easy enough barrier to take down," Lexa joked.

"Not where Octavia's concerned," Clarke said, sadly. Octavia and Lincoln had been forced to keep their relationship under wraps. As it was, only she, Raven, Monty, and Jasper knew about it. Nobody on the football team, nor the cheerleading squad knew, lest it get back to Bellamy and he try to keep them apart."

"That doesn't sound very healthy," Aden commented, taking another chunk of lamb into his mouth. He chewed thoughtfully. "Somebody should tell that Baloney dude that he can't just control people any way he wants to."

"Lincoln tried," Clarke sighed. "Got a black eye, but not from Bellamy's hand."

"That's horrible," Anya said. "I bet I could take that kid down a few notches." She sipped from her bowl. "I'm a black belt, you know."

"A black belt and a football player in one family." Clarke whistled, impressed. She looked at Aden. "You on the wrestling team?"

Aden rolled his eyes and Anya laughed, reaching over to ruffle his hair. "Nah, our baby boy's more of a Brainiac than a fighter. We taught him a couple things, though; he can defend himself pretty well."

"That's good," Clarke said, nodding. "What got you interested in all this fighting stuff anyway?"

Anya and Lexa shared a look, then turned to Clarke. "Dad," they said in unison.

"He taught me how to throw my first punch," Anya informed her. "Because I was getting bullied in school. Some little jerk kept pulling my hair and kicking sand at me on the playground. I showed him."

"Anya was the first student ever suspended at our elementary school," Lexa said with a smirk.

"At least I wasn't expelled from kindergarten." Lexa flushed bright red, hunching her shoulders.

Clarke's eyes widened. "Okay, now I have to hear this one."

"There's not much to tell," Anya said. "Except our parents were super excited about having a boy and our dad went a little crazy with all the sports equipment before Aden could even lift his head, which meant that we had a bunch of random baseballs and footballs lying around. So, of course, he makes good use of them by teaching us how to play each and every game and while I quickly grew pretty bored of them, little Lexa was pretty fascinated by one game in particular."

"Football," Clarke said, with a smirk.

Anya shook her head. "Soccer, actually. So…well, almost. Anyway, Dad taught her how to run with the ball, how to pass and make a goal and all that good stuff. We quickly learned just how passionate our sweet little girl could get." She reached over and pinched Lexa's cheek, only to have her hand swatted away. "Especially when they started playing it at her school, during recess."

"Oh no," Clarke laughed, looking at Lexa, who had her face in her hands. Clarke reached her foot over to wrap around Lexa's angle and tugged a little, coaxing an embarrassed smile from the girl.

"Oh yes," Anya continued. "Lexa went ape during a peewee soccer game at her school. She charged down that field and kicked the ball so hard that the goalie was knocked out."

"Oh my god!" Clarke snorted, then immediately covered her mouth, unable to stifle her laughter.

"Yeah," Anya laughed. "And that wasn't even what got her kicked out."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously. They let her off with a warning and tried to get her to calm down a little on the field, but the longer she played, the more passionate she became and then she just…let loose."

"What happened?" Clarke asked.

"Let's just say, she didn't get a third strike," Anya replied with a snort, finishing the last of her stew. She stood and grabbed Aden's bowl, as well.

"Hey!" he argued.

"You haven't taken a bite in ten minutes," Anya pointed out. "You're full."

He didn't argue; just stood from the table and grabbed their silverware, walking with her to the sink. Clarke and Lexa remained seated, the former trying—and failing, horribly—to stop chortling. Lexa glared at her, but Clarke couldn't help it. That was hilarious!

"I can't believe you got expelled from kindergarten," Clarke giggled, pressing her face to Lexa's shoulder, her body shaking with mirth.

Lexa sighed. "I wasn't expelled," she said. "They just…suggested that my parents enroll me elsewhere."

"Where could you possibly go after that?" Clarke wondered aloud.

"They homeschooled me until second grade," Lexa sighed, pouting slightly. "By then, I was a little…calmer. But I still had a thing for sports, so they enrolled me in a girls' football team, where being a little rough with the other players wasn't quite as frowned upon."

"Looks like it worked," Clarke said, pulling away. "You're definitely way calmer."

Lexa smirked. "I meditate," she said. "My mom wanted me to take ballet, but I've never been one for tights."

"Too bad," Clarke commented as she stood. "You'd probably look good in a tutu."

"Shut up," Lexa laughed, following after her. They deposited their bowls in the sink and then Lexa turned to the freezer, already pulling out the rocky road ice cream.

"Uh," Clarke said, "shouldn't we digest a little before…"

"You can," Lexa said. "I've been waiting for this all day…and I'm still feeling that hollow spot in my stomach where that cookie should be."

"Hey, you offered!" Clarke laughed. Lexa snickered as she reached for a couple of bowls and spoons, handing them to Clarke as she opened the pint and started scooping the ice cream. Each bowl got three scoops and she let Clarke pick which one she wanted as she put the ice cream back into the freezer. She also reached into the fridge for a can of whipped cream and chocolate sauce, offering them both to Clarke once she doused her rocky road in both.

Clarke shook her head. "I'm already going to have to work this off tomorrow as it is," she said.

"Suit yourself," Lexa said, spraying the whipped cream into her mouth.

"You are amazing," Clarke murmured as she took a bite of the ice cream.

Lexa looked down at her with a mouthful of foam. "Why?" she said, some of the cream dribbling down her chin. Clarke handed her a napkin.

"Because you never act this silly at school," the blonde said as she watch Lexa carefully wipe away the remnants of whipped cream. "You're always so serious."

"Yeah, well I kind of take my studies seriously, Clarke," Lexa replied. "You know I have to keep my GPA above a 3.0 to stay on the team, right?"

"Same here," Clarke pointed out. "Mine has remained at, like, 3.8 since sixth grade, by the way."

"Mine is 3.9," Lexa said, with a challenging lift of her brows.

Clarke pressed her lips together. "It's not a competition." Lexa snorted. "Anyway, keeping your grades up is not an excuse to be so serious. You could laugh a little when we're at school."

"I laughed today," Lexa pointed out. "With you."

"Do you laugh with Indra, too?" Clarke asked.

"Sometimes…"

"About what?"

"…stuff."

"Lexa," Clarke sighed.

"Why do I have to laugh all the time?"

"Not all the time," Clarke said. "Just…sometimes. You have a really great laugh."

Lexa's cheeks turned pink. "I do?" she asked, green eyes wide.

Clarke nodded. "It's, like, sixty percent smile and when it's hard enough, you kind of…snort."

Lexa's foot nudged her underneath the island. "I do not!"

Clarke laughed and nodded. "You do so!" she said. "But that's okay; I do, too, sometimes."

"All the time."

"Oh, shut up," Clarke giggled, knocking their feet together again. Both girls laughed, sharing a look. As their laughter died down, though, their eyes stay locked, their smiles wide and joyous. Clarke felt something flutter in her chest; something that she hadn't felt in a long time. Something that terrified her, yet she couldn't look away from Lexa, who was no doubt the cause of this…fluttering.

And then Lexa was leaning towards her, swallowing thickly, and Clarke felt her breathing stop in her lungs, her mouth going dry, preventing her from voicing any kind of protest as Lexa's lips landed on hers and she felt everything inside her suddenly melt and release. The moan she emitted sounded like pure relief and she gave herself to the count of three to pull away, allowing herself to bask in the way her skin shivered and her hair stood on end, her lips burned where they brushed Lexa's skin.

When the tips of their noses bumped, Clarke suddenly pulled away with a sharp inhale. "I'm sorry," she said, rising from her stool so quickly that she almost lost her balance. "I…I have to go."

She could hear Lexa call after her, but Clarke kept going, walking briskly down the hall to the front door and then out onto her car. She didn't even let herself take a breath until she turned the key in the ignition and pulled away from the curb. Her lips continued to tingle all the way home.

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