The Bus Ride Chat
Lexa hesitated for only a moment before reopening the perfectly artistic post of soccer cleats. She closed her eyes, and before she could second guess herself any further, her thumb found that tiny little heart and pressed ever so lightly to the screen. She did it. She finally liked one of Clarke’s posts. It only took her nearly three years of not so covertly crushing on her. However, she did it.
Lexa clutched her phone to her chest and kept her eyes squeezed shut. She was still in her semi-distraught state when a familiar husky voice called her name. Lexa opened one eye to find the object of her affection gripping the back of the seat with one hand and gently swinging a water bottle in the other.
“What?” Lexa heard herself asking as she blinked both eyes open.
Clarke grinned at her, and Lexa’s heart nearly beat right out of her poor chest. “I asked if I could join you.”
Lexa faltered, not quite able to believe that the Clarke Griffin was actually standing not two feet from her asking if she could sit next to her.
“I mean, I don’t have to, if you’re busy,” Clarke coyly looked back towards her empty seat in the back of the bus, the knowing little grin never leaving her face. Lexa could not for the life her, stop staring, utterly transfixed by the tiny little beauty mark that slightly tilted upwards as Clarke smirked.
Lexa cleared her throat, and through some miracle, was able to choke out a somewhat impassive, “No, it’s fine. You can sit.”
She busied herself with clearing the seat of her notebooks and stacking them neatly in her lap. Clarke half chuckled, half rolled her eyes as she took a seat. “So,” Clarke began as she shifted her whole body to face Lexa. “You’re an athletic trainer?”
“Studying to be, yes.”
“I’ve seen you around.”
“You have?” Lexa finally turned her shoulders to fully face Clarke, her eyes comically wide with surprise, which she knew because Clarke could barely contain the laughter in her throat.
“I mean, yeah, you’ve been working all our games for almost two years,” Clarke chuckled. Her laughter subsided quickly, and her features softened tenderly. “Besides, you’re hard not to notice.”
Lexa fought the urge to roll her eyes. “That can’t be true.”
“It’s subjective,” Clarke emphatically stated with a playful fire in her eyes that had Lexa almost smiling.
“I suppose...”
Clarke clapped and rubbed her hands together in a mini-victory celebration. “So, Lexa, tell me a story.”
“About what?”
“Anything. Tell me about your...” Clarke reached over and wrapped her hand around the top notebook in Lexa’s lap. Her hair tickled Lexa’s arm as she leaned over, and her fingers grazed Lexa’s as she pulled the book towards her. Lexa froze at the contact, her skin burning from the accidental touch.
“‘History of Colonial Latin America’ class?” Clarke read aloud, and Lexa finally snapped out of her stupor.
“You really want to know about Latin America circa 1250 AD?”
“Yes!” Clarke shouted too quickly, and Lexa quirked an eyebrow up at her. “Okay, no. But I do want to talk to you.”
Lexa paused for a moment, studying Clarke’s face as she tried to determine if this was really happening. Clarke was actually sitting next to her and actually just wanted to talk. Lexa glanced down at her watch, and since she quickly determined that they had at least another half hour before they reached the hotel, she might as well indulge Clarke and herself.
Lexa bit her lip as she reached to the depths of her minimal knowledge of small talk. “There’s this guy…” she started slowly. Clarke startled at that information and sat back in her seat, putting a small bit of distance between them. Lexa didn’t let the disappointment bubbling in her chest show and continued with her story. “He keeps asking me out.”
Clarke smiled encouragingly, but the smile didn’t crinkle her nose or put that sparkle in her eyes. “Is he cute?”
“Maybe?” Lexa grimaced. “I suppose he isn’t too appalling to look at.”
“Woah, there tiger,” Clarke chuckled. “Don’t sound too excited.”
“Why would I be excited? His advances are not wanted.”
The bus suddenly rocked as it ran over an uneven patch of asphalt, and the jolt had Clarke bouncing from her seat. She gracefully settled herself, sliding just a little closer to Lexa in the process. Their thighs brushed, and Lexa stiffened at the contact as warmth and shivers coursed through her body.
Clarke smiled a real smile this time and placed her hand sympathetically on Lexa’s shoulder and quickly shifted back into their conversation. “Well, I guess you can’t really blame a guy for shooting his shot.”
“Clarke!” Lexa half gasped, half choked.
“What?” Clarke withdrew her hand and took a sip of her water before shrugging. “You’re hot. I know it. Everyone with eyes knows it. I respect him for taking a chance.”
Overwhelmed with the revelation that Clarke found her attractive, Lexa lost her ability to form intelligent thoughts and stifled out a bitingly obvious, “But I’m a lesbian!”
Clarke smiled that winning grin of hers and turned towards Lexa. While her face suddenly turned serious, her eyes twinkled with a strange sort of happiness. “And have you told him that?”
“Well, no, but-”
“And have you said you’re not interested?”
“Not in those exact words, but-”
Clarke let out a breathy little laugh and shook her head as if she’d won an argument. “I’m not defending him here, by any means, but sometimes you just have to be blunt for someone to get it. No dancing around. If you don’t want his advances, tell him. Don’t leave any room for interpretation.”
Lexa wanted to roll her eyes. She really did, but what Clarke said did have an air of truth about it. Not wanting to completely let Clarke have this win over her, Lexa crossed her arms and smirked. “So what? You want me to waltz into my class on Monday, pull out a rainbow colored notebook, smack him over the head with it while shouting ‘I’m a lesbian! No means no!’ and then just go about my day?”
“No,” Clarke scoffed. “No violence. But you should tell him exactly that while perhaps, just blatantly showing him your rainbow colored notebook.”
Lexa’s brain suddenly caught up to the moment, and her heart pounded in her chest. She was so taken with the ease of their banter that she forgot she was talking to the most beautiful woman she’d ever seen. The reality of that fact came crashing down on her with the weight of a seven-story building, but just as she was about to withdraw into herself once again, Clarke exclaimed loudly effectively halting Lexa’s retreat.
“Ooh! Make sure to do it just as class is dismissed. More witnesses! And then waltz out of the lecture hall with your head held high, and hop on to the back of your unicorn! Where the woman of your dreams is sitting, and kiss her like there’s no tomorrow as you both ride off into the sunset!”
“Wow…” was all Lexa was able to say as Clarke laughed and high-fived herself for a job well done. “There are so many problems with that plan.”
“Name one!” Clarke challenged.
“I’ll name three,” Lexa retorted. She turned to fully face Clarke in their little bus seat and held up her pointer finger, just for emphasis. “First of all, I don’t own a rainbow colored notebook. Secondly, unicorns aren’t real. And thirdly, I’m pretty sure the woman of my dreams doesn’t even know I exist.”
Lexa slumped back against the uncomfortable seat at her last statement and crossed her arms. She had come to terms long ago that Clarke would never reciprocate her affections, but that didn’t mean the verbal confirmation stung any less.
“Aww, Lexa,” Clarke soothed. “I’m sure she knows you exist.”
“Well, she’s definitely not interested,” Lexa interjected harshly with a huff.
Clarke tsked and opened her mouth to undoubtedly argue but was cut off by the coach announcing their imminent arrival.
Lexa followed the exaggerated movement of Clarke’s chest as she released a slow sigh. “Thanks for chatting with me.” Clarke stood, holding the headrest for stability, and looked back towards her original seat. “I guess I should head back to my seat. Pack up my stuff.”
Lexa knew Clarke was waiting for something, and she was smart enough to know what it was. She felt it too, but she wasn’t sure she was in the right place to start something with her.
Lexa was in the middle of her second to last semester. The finish line was in sight, and despite essentially pining after Clarke for the better part of three years, Lexa wasn’t sure the risk was worth all she had worked for academically. But then again, every fiber of her being was screaming at her to not let Clarke leave without her number.
Lexa should…
