Chapter Twelve
"How do I look?" Clarke twirled in front of the mirror, allowed the skirt of her dress to lift a little bit as she did so. Raven and Octavia were on her bed—the former with her head hanging off the edge, looking at her upside down; the latter propped up against her pillows, absently strumming the strings of Clarke's guitar—looking bored out of their minds. Clarke had invited them over to help her pick out a dress for the sports dinner…thing. Clarke still wasn't really sure what to call it, but she knew that Lexa would be there, probably looking great with her letterman jacket and her hair up and possibly in a dress (Clarke had never seen her in a dress, but she bet the sight would give her goosebumps and heart palpitations.).
But now she had tried on three different dresses (why did she have so many dress-casual black dresses? She had no idea) and the girls were beginning to get irritated.
"You look fantastic," Raven said, her voice monotonous. "Lexa will probably take you right there in front of everybody, you're so hot."
"Raven!" Clarke groaned, feeling her cheeks bloom with heat.
"Well, what do you want me to say?" Raven asked. "It looks identical to the last one you put on. And the one before it. You really need to add a little diversity to your wardrobe, Clarke."
Clarke turned back to look at herself. This dress was nice, if just a little plain. It was a turtle neck (which hid the indentations from Lexa's teeth from the night before) and sleeveless. The shirt flared the tiniest bit at the bottom, making her look like a bell on legs. At the store, Clarke had thought it looked pretty, but now she frowned, wrinkling her nose.
"Not this one," she said, marching back into her closet as her friends' groans followed her.
When she returned, Clarke was smoothing down the skirt of a slightly shorter, halter top dress, with a plunging neckline and an open back. It was a little racier than the last ones she'd tried on, but this one she actually did like. She twirled as she stepped out of the closet and giggled a little as she stumbled in front of the mirror.
Behind her, Raven whistled and she heard Octavia pluck a chord on her guitar, as if to add to the sentiment. She smiled brightly at her reflection, turning to check the back of her dress, making sure that her underwear wasn't visible. Thankfully, it wasn't (though, to be honest, she was more than willing to forgo it just so she could wear this) and she admired the long lines of her legs as she turned to look at her friends, who were both slack-jawed. She raised one eyebrow.
"So?" she asked. "What do you think?"
"I think I need to dump Indra and steal you from Lexa," Raven said, then immediately looked terrified. "I'm just kidding. Please don't tell Indra I said that."
Octavia made a whip sound out of the corner of her mouth and Raven shoved her foot in the other girl's face. Octavia slapped it away and placed the guitar to the side, then promptly jumped onto Raven, the two pseudo-wrestling while Clarke watched, shaking her head.
"Children," she muttered. "My best friends are children."
"Hey! She's the delinquent that's beating up a disabled person," Raven argued.
"I'm not even touching your bad leg, you big baby!" Octavia growled back as they continued to wrestle.
"If you guys are finished," Clarke interrupted, stepping to the bed and bodily flipping Octavia off of Raven, "I seriously need to get ready now. O, can you help me with my hair?"
"Of course!" Octavia said, scrambling off the bed. "I was thinking a carefully messy up-do, you know? With a few curled tendrils of hair in the front, like you kinda care, but not really. It'll go great with that necklines, and maybe a pair of hoops?"
"Sounds good to me," Clarke chuckled. "You're the expert here."
"Not really," Octavia sighed. "But having an aunt who's a hairdresser is pretty helpful. Now go sit and point out the curling iron."
"It's in the bathroom," Clarke said, walking toward her vanity. "There are some ponytail holders in the medicine cabinet, next to a bottle of hairspray."
"You know your medicine cabinet is for medicine, right Clarke?" Raven teased. Clarke flipped her off as she sat down, looking at herself in the trifold mirror. Her face was completely devoid of makeup now (not that she ever really wore it heavily to begin with) and the hickeys on her neck were only slightly hidden by her halter. She considered, briefly, hiding them with a little foundation, but figured that would be ridiculous. She wasn't trying to hide her relationship with Lexa, after all, and nobody would even know who had made the marks to begin with, anyway.
"Okay," Octavia said as she showed up in the mirror behind Clarke's head, "let's get started, shall we?"
Lexa stood nervously in the catering hall lobby, adjusting and readjusting her tie as she waited for her—for Clarke to show up. Many of her teammates and other jocks were standing around as well, talking and laughing, and flirting with the cheerleaders that had already arrived. She could see Bellamy talking animatedly to Indra about something just a few feet away and she wanted to go over there and join the conversation, but she was afraid that she would almost immediately become distracted by thoughts of Clarke—who was very, very late.
Lexa sighed and looked at her watch, her shoulders slumping slightly. Okay, Clarke was only about ten minutes late, and she really wasn't the only one. Even Coach Titus had yet to show his face and he'd been the one to remind them all of the time before they left practice earlier that day. There was no real reason for Lexa to be nervous.
Except there was. There really, really was, because—
"Calm down, will ya?" a voice said in her ear and Lexa turned to see Lincoln and Indra standing next to her, amusement twinkling in her eyes. He was giving her a sideways grin. "You look like you're about to propose or something."
"Propose?" Lexa choked. "Like…like marriage? Lincoln, Clarke and I are far too young for—" At the look on his face, Lexa trailed off, feeling her face heat up. "Oh. You were…you were joking, weren't you?"
"Yes," Lincoln said, chuckling. He placed his hand on her shoulder. "Relax. And fix your tie." He straightened the red silk for her, tightening the knot a little, before allowing it to lay back against the black shirt. Then he marveled for a moment at the well-fitting suit. "Where's you get this tailored?" he asked.
"My grandmother is a seamstress in TonDC," Lexa told him. "She's been tailoring suits for almost sixty years."
"Nice," Lincoln commented. "Think she could do mine? It's a little tight in the biceps now that training's begun. I'm afraid it's gonna rip." He flexed and Lexa rolled her eyes, shoving him away.
"Showoff," she snorted and he chuckled, then suddenly stopped, facing the door.
"Whoa…"
Lexa narrowed her eyes at him. "What are you looking…at…wow…" Her entire body thrummed with electricity as she spotted the blonde bombshell walk into the lobby, looking all around.
Clarke was wearing a gorgeous, black halter top dress with a cinched waist and a wide skirt that fell to just above her knees and fluttered with each step in a pair of open-toed, black heels. Her golden blonde hair was up in a messy fashion, the edges still pink from 'Crazy Hair Day' and curls framing her face attractively. There were silver hoops hanging from her ears, as well, and her lips were as red as blood, complimenting not only her skin tone, but everything that was uniquely…Clarke.
And when their eyes met, it was like the world melted away, and there was only Clarke, surrounded by a halo of light and color. She could see, even from the distance, as Clarke's cheeks were filled with heat, flushed pink and beautiful.
Oh god, she was just so beautiful.
She was so beautiful.
Clarke's heart beat a little faster at the sight of Lexa in her suit, her letterman jacket folded over her arm like a blanket. It fit her like a glove; accentuating her curves and widening her shoulders just slightly. Her brown curls fell around her shoulders like cascading waves, a slight bump in her hair and braids at the sides to pull it away from her face. She was wearing minimal makeup (just some eyeliner and barely-there light pink lip gloss) and a pair of tiny diamond studs in her ears, which Clarke could only see because of the glint of light off the chandelier above.
Altogether, Lexa looked breathtakingly beautiful and handsome all at the same time and she wondered how that was possible—though she bet that Lexa would be more graceful than Clarke was, as she stumbled towards the brunette in this impossible heels, which Raven and Octavia had convinced her would make the outfit complete. She tried her best to remain upright as she approached Lexa, who was standing with Lincoln and Indra, though Clarke barely even acknowledged them, instead stopping in front of Lexa, a shy smile on her lips.
"Hey," she greeted, her voice soft and saying so much more than just the simple greeting.
"Hey," Lexa replied, equally as shy, her cheeks turning pink. Clarke's smile widened and she reached out to cup the girl's jaw. Lexa pressed into her palm and Clarke's heart sang. "You look beautiful," Lexa said. "But then, what else is new?"
"Smooth," Clarke laughed. "Did you practice that line in the mirror?"
"Maybe," Lexa teased, leaning in to press her lips to Clarke's.
"Aww!" they heard and they parted to see Indra and Lincoln gazing at them, fluttering their eyelashes, teasingly, as they clasped their hands together.
"Oh, piss off," Lexa huffed, grabbing Clarke's hand as she snickered, allowing the—now shorter, due to Clarke's heels—brunette lead her to the hall where they would have dinner. Heads turned as they walked past, their classmates' eyes widened at the sight of their tangled fingers. Clarke didn't really care much about what people thought of them (she'd been out as bi since elementary school), but she still cast a sidelong glance at Lexa, who seemed to be taking it all in stride.
Inside, Lexa located the table designated for the football team and their dates (it was pretty much expected for the athletes to bring dates, so there was always plenty of room) and spotted Bellamy, with his back turned toward them, chatting quietly with Murphy and Harper.
"I wonder who the new girl's going to bring," Bellamy mused. "Probably some kind of nerd. Maybe Monty."
"I thought Monty was dating Jasper," Harper said, catching sight of Clarke and Lexa as they walked up, fingers intertwined. Her eyes widened and she gasped. "No. Way."
Bellamy and Murphy turned, their own eyes widening at the sight. "Holy shit," Murphy said. "New girl's got her own girl. Good going, Woods."
"Um…thank you?" Lexa said, not sure if his words were sincere or not.
"You two are dating now?" Bellamy asked. "Since when?"
Clarke and Lexa shared a look, then turned back to him. "Monday," Clarke said, with a decisive nod. "Octavia didn't tell you?" He shook his head. "Well…yeah. We're dating. Problem?" She lifted her eyebrow, challengingly.
Bellamy lifted his hands up in defense, shaking his head. "None whatsoever," he said. "You do you." His words held a hint of sarcasm in them that rubbed both Clarke and Lexa the wrong way, but they ignored it in favor of finding a seat a little ways away.
Lexa let go of Clarke's hand long enough to pull out her chair for her and Clarke gave her an affectionate grin, reaching up to press a kiss to Lexa's cheek, which made the brunette flush, hotly. "Such a gentleman," Clarke teased and Lexa grinned, shaking her head.
"Shut up," she murmured as Clarke laughed and sat down in the chair, allowing herself to be pushed in. Then Lexa took her seat next to Clarke and they reached for each other under the table, fingers interlocking once again. Clarke shivered when Lexa's thumb rubbed a soothing pattern on her palm and Lexa bit her lip when she felt the blonde's ankle cross with hers. They shared secret smiles as they waited for the event to begin.
"You two really are gross," a voice said from behind them. They both turned to see Indra wrinkling her nose as Lincoln held out her chair.
"Says the girl who perpetually has her tongue down my best friend's throat," Clarke shot back. "Both of you, actually." She wrinkled her nose in disgust.
"What did I do?" Lincoln asked, frowning, his eyebrows knotted together.
"You know what you did."
Lincoln gave her the kicked puppy look and Eliza rolled her eyes, unable to keep herself from grinning when he stuck his tongue out at her. She mirrored the move and snorted when he made another ridiculous face. He could be such a child sometimes; Clarke could understand why Octavia loved him. She just wished that they could be open about it.
At that thought, she glared over at Bellamy, who was laughing at something Murphy just said. For as long as Clarke could remember, he'd tried to control most aspects of his sister's life—at least, as far as her love life went. He'd threatened most of the boys that so much as talked to her, made sure that they knew she was off-limits. Even Jasper, when he'd first shown interest in her. By that time, Octavia already had her eyes on Lincoln—who definitely noticed her—but pretended to like Jasper back (but not without warning him that her brother would likely be out for his blood) and Bellamy, predictably, told him to keep his distance—or else.
Octavia had witnessed this one and had practically knocked her brother out for scaring Jasper so much that he was practically shaking. Monty had rushed to his side, trying to calm him down. Clarke would like to think that that's where their relationship began, just so Octavia could say that something positive came out of her brother's possessiveness.
But it probably didn't work that way. And now Lincoln was here, without her, sitting at the same table as the reason he wasn't able to hold the hand of the girl he loved…yet he was still smiling. Lincoln was always smiling. He had just a good attitude and such a gentle spirit. You almost wouldn't know it, just by looking at him and the bulk of his body and the way he used it on the football field, playing defense. He was fierce and focused and agile, had gotten involved in more than one fight during a game, but that was mainly to pull people like Murphy and Miller off of their opponents when they got a little too fired up.
Lincoln was the peacemaker and he deserved to be happy with Octavia, even if it meant Bellamy got annoyed. Fuck Bellamy, to be quite honest.
"So," Clarke said, keeping her voice low as she leaned toward him, "have you asked Octavia to Homecoming yet?"
"You know that I can't," Lincoln sighed. "Bellamy would—"
"Screw Bellamy," Clarke huffed. "He doesn't control Octavia and he sure as hell doesn't control you. He shouldn't be the reason that you two aren't together at that dance."
"He told their parents that I'm on steroids," Lincoln hissed, looking around to make sure nobody was listening.
"What?" Clarke growled, almost too loudly. "Why the fuck—"
"Somebody told him that Octavia had a crush on me." He almost huffed out a laugh at the irony. "He wanted to make sure that, if we tried, we wouldn't be able to act on it."
"That is majorly abusive," Indra said, leaning in on their conversation. "Somebody should do something about him."
"I could kick his ass," Lexa offered. "Bellamy seems like the kind of guy who wouldn't admit to getting his ass kicked by a girl. Even one that's on the football team."
"I could help," Indra said. "A cheerleader might hurt his ego even more."
"Nobody's kicking anybody's ass," Lincoln hissed. "Just leave it alone. We only have to deal with him for one more year, and then Octavia and I can be out in the open while he's at college."
"What about her parents?" Clarke asked.
Lincoln shrugged. "I'll take a drug test," he said. "Show them that I'm clean. I'll even offer to let Dr. Blake take my blood or something. I don't care. They're not going to keep me away from her. Or vice versa."
"Why don't you just do that tomorrow?" Clarke asked. "Or, better yet, tonight?"
"You want me to go to Octavia's parents and tell them I'm not on drugs? Tonight? It's going to be, like, ten by the time we get out of here. How is that going to convince them I'm not on drugs?"
"You know you don't actually have to be here tonight, right?" Lexa said. "You're not receiving any awards, are you?"
"No…"
"Then you can leave. Coach Titus won't care. If he does, we'll just tell him that you went home to get some rest for the big game. He won't even question it."
Lincoln nodded but was still hesitant to leave his spot. "Wait," he said, looking at Indra. "I'm supposed to be your date tonight."
"I'm gay, Lincoln," Indra said. "I have a girlfriend and you have a girlfriend; this," she motioned between them, "is not a real date. What you have to do is way more important. Just go."
"Are you sure?"
"Go!" Indra hissed, practically shoving him out of his seat. Lincoln snorted and stood up, causing a few gazes to fall on him as he started toward the exit.
"Thanks, guys," he said. "Enjoy your dinner!" He gave them a little wave over his shoulder and they all waved back.
"Do you really think Octavia's parents will listen to him?" Indra asked.
"Aurora Blake can be a little overbearing sometimes, but she's open to discussion," Clarke replied.
"Good. Octavia and Lincoln deserve to be happy; together or apart."
Clarke and Lexa nodded in agreement as they watched Lincoln slip out into the night.