Work Text:
When Lexa Woods was 15 years old, her parents bought her a trampoline.
Well, it was actually for Aden, but her 12-year-old brother preferred to stay inside playing video games rather than jump around on a piece of stretched out canvas.
So Lexa bought a cheap plastic ball wrapped in waterproof fabric, stuck a makeshift ring up on the net that surrounded the trampoline, attached a butterfly net with a hole in the bottom and practiced her basketball.
At least, that was how it started.
She started at one end of the trampoline, jumping to shoot and nothing else. But she soon discovered that the whole concept of being able to jump freely with no resistance was quite amusing, and after a fortnight of rigorous basketball practice, the ball lay abandoned and the ring net-less.
Lexa now took pleasure in merely bouncing around, seeing how high she could leap and how many tricks she could do. She taught herself how to flip like an acrobat, using the damaged ring for leverage and swinging her body around until she somehow ended up on two feet. It became a ritual; come home, unpack bag, run outside and jump. It was something so childish, yet so fun, and so Lexa just accepted it.
As well as being a place to break one’s limbs, the trampoline became an excellent place to view the neighbourhood. It’s how Lexa figured out the girl with the blonde hair and a sketchbook from across the road would sit on her balcony and not-so-subtly watch her every afternoon.
It didn’t bother Lexa, but the more and more often it happened the more Lexa would find herself checking her hair, her clothes, and being careful to only do flips once she knew she’d perfected them – I mean, she had an audience, she might as well impress them?
But soon Lexa caught herself watching as well, glancing across to the girl while she was sketching, her brow furrowed and pencil scratching. Every day she’d notice a new little detail; how the girl’s tongue would stick out of the corner of her mouth whenever she frowned, or how she would always absentmindedly brush her hand across her hairline every time she stopped working.
The girls would watch each other in secret, neither of them knowing if the other noticed.
In fact, it took the entirety of 4 months until they met eyes.
Lexa looked up after completing a rather impressive flip, just as the girl looked up from her sketchbook.
Their eyes met.
The girl broke the gaze.
Lexa held it.
When Lexa was 16 years old, her parents sold the trampoline.
Two days later, Lexa sat in a tree and heard the sound of springs.
The girl with the blonde hair and a sketchbook jumped around on her trampoline until they made eye contact.
The girl waved her over.
Lexa went.
When Lexa was 18 years old, she was scared.
When Lexa was 19 years old, she moved out.
She helped her load the boxes into the moving van, and Lexa did the same for her.
They pressed keys into the other’s palms, and their hands remained entwined until they stepped into their new apartment, a small sketch of two silhouettes on a trampoline already hung up on the wall.
When Lexa was 25, she proposed to the girl with the blonde hair and a sketchbook.
Clarke said yes.
When Lexa was 31, their daughter wondered why Lexa’s hand flew to her mouth when she saw the new trampoline in their backyard, and why she could see her moms laying on the trampoline at 10pm, sharing a glass of wine.
They were looking at the shapes the stars created in the sky.
Lexa liked the one that formed a misshapen tree.
Clarke liked it too.
When Lexa Woods was 15 years old, she saw the girl with the blonde hair and a sketchbook not-so-subtly watching her as she bounced on a trampoline.
When Lexa Woods was 18 years old, she fell in love with Clarke.