Chapter Text
Freshman Year
The professor drones on and on about limits and derivatives, but Lexa isn’t listening. She’s got one earbud in, a soft indie tune playing and she’s using her pen to trace aimless lines in her notebook.
'Bored' doesn’t even begin to describe what she’s feeling. Math had always come easy to Lexa and calculus is no exception. Note taking is unnecessary. The stern older woman standing at the front of the room doesn’t exactly try to make the lesson exciting, either. She lectures without any enthusiasm, randomly calling on people she thinks aren’t listening. Likely, that applies to everyone in the room.
Lexa isn’t worried, though. She could do this stuff in her sleep...which is becoming more and more probable as she slumps further into her chair. Her father had always stressed the importance of good posture, but she’s tired and when she glances at the clock, the minute hand seems to be in the same exact position as it was when she looked at it last. Frustrated, she closes her eyes.
Her peace doesn’t last very long.
Something smacks into her face and Lexa jerks up in her seat, eyes flying open. For a moment, even though it’s illogical, she thinks the professor hit her, but there’s a paper plane on her desk and that seems the more likely perpetrator. She subtly glances around the room to find who threw it and why. There’s no one she knows in the class, so it probably wasn’t meant for her.
Sure enough, a blonde girl two seats forward and a few rows over is staring guiltily back at her. Even from across the room, Lexa can tell she’s blushing. The girl is beautiful and mortified and it almost makes Lexa drop her unaffected demeanor, but she doesn’t. She’s not that weak. She just raises her brows expectantly.
The girl points to the girl sitting behind Lexa, a strong jawed brunette who always seems to be angry. Right now, though, when Lexa turns to look at her and potentially hand off the paper plane to her, the girl has her face planted into her Calculus book, snoring lightly. Lexa looks back at the blonde and shrugs.
The blonde smacks a defeated hand to her forehead, but then starts gesturing wildly with her hands and pointing at the paper in Lexa's hands.
So she carefully unfolds the plane, flattens out the creases, and reads it.
Hottest girl I’ve ever seen
Row 5
This time, it’s impossible to keep from smiling just a little. She’s the only girl in Row 5.
It’s a flattering compliment from anyone, but reading the messy cursive handwriting and knowing it was by the hands of the gorgeous blonde whose face is now buried in her hands...it makes Lexa’s heart race.
She folds the paper up into a small square and tucks it into her wallet as the bell rings.
The blonde avoids her eyes for the rest of the semester.
Sophomore Year
The first time they actually speak to each other, Lexa is pretty sure that Clarke doesn't know she remembers her. Either that or Clarke herself has forgotten, but based on the way she stares at her with wide eyes, Lexa doesn't think that's the case.
Lincoln and Lexa are in the library studying together when he pauses mid sentence, seeming to have seen something or someone of interest.
"That's Octavia's best friend. Clarke."
He and the angry girl who sat behind her in Calculus are a thing now apparently. He talks about her all time. Lexa is happy for him, albeit a little bitter about her lack of a love life.
She looks to where Lincoln is pointing and it's the blonde.
Of course. Just her luck. Paper Plane Blonde.
He waves her over before Lexa can argue against it, so she punches him in the thigh as a punishment and he winces, shooting her a confused glare.
"Hey, Clarke!" He greets her, recovering quickly as she approaches, but still rubbing at his sore leg.
The blonde, Clarke, offers Lincoln a dazzling smile.
"Hey, Linc. Studying?"
Her smile drops only slightly when she sees who is seated beside him, but she hides it well. Lincoln, oblivious, kicks a chair out across from them for Clarke to sit in, which she does.
"For sure! Come join us! This is my buddy, Lexa. Lexa, this is Clarke."
Clarke lifts a hand and wiggles her fingers, giving Lexa a cute and slightly awkward wave.
Lexa merely nods in response, not really trusting her voice. She doesn't intend to come across as rude, but she's been thinking of this girl for the better part of a year.
"I've got to go to the bathroom. Be right back!"
Lincoln stands and Lexa panics, nearly grabbing at him as he turns to walks away.
"So..."
She looks back to Clarke who is running her hands through her hair, offering a Lexa a nervous smile.
She's not sure what does it, whether it's the curve of Clarke's lips or the glint in her sky blue eyes, but before she can question it, Lexa is blurting out,
"Hottest girl you've ever seen, huh?"
The response is instantaneous. Clarke groans and buries her face in her hands, just like she did on that day Freshman year.
Lexa breathes out a laugh, waiting patiently until the girl across from her pulls her hands away.
"So you remember." It's not a question, but Lexa still nods.
She watches, mesmerized, as Clarke bites her bottom lip.
Lexa's fingers itch to pull out her wallet and check to make sure the folded up paper is still there, but she knows it is.
"You're memorable."
Junior Year
Lexa wakes to the feeling of a hand wrapping gently around her bicep. She grumbles, moving closer to the warm body beside her. She tucks her face into the crook of Clarke's neck, breathing in the familiar scent of her eucalyptus body wash. This her favorite spot. She presses a soft kiss to her collarbone then runs her nose along the flesh in front of her. Clarke's hand moves from around her bicep, trailing along her arm. It tickles, but she's too sleepy to tell her to stop.
The fingertips stop in a predictable spot on her forearm, tracing over her nearly fully healed tattoo. "I still can't believe you got a paper plane tattoo."
The husky words are spoken straight into her ear and it makes Lexa shudder.
"And I don't regret it because it keeps getting me laid."
She starts to fade back into sleep, but Clarke pinches her bare hip with her other hand, effectively waking her.
"It was pretty romantic at first, but it won't always have that effect, Lex. I'm not going to have sex with you every time I see your tattoo. " Her words are spoken with conviction, but Lexa just grins, content and maybe a little bit cocky.
"Yeah you are."