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She tightens her shoelaces one last time before looking up at the clock, the red “8:00” lighting up the scoreboard. Four, eight-minute quarters. Thirty-two minutes. That’s all that stands between her and the chance to play for a state championship. Thirty-two minutes until what she thinks will be the best moment of her life.
The opposing team is quicker than hers; she knows that. She also knows that her own team has more skill and better leadership. She runs her hand down the front of her jersey and tries to even out her breathing.
Her heart is racing, but if there’s one thing she’s learned in her four years on the court, it’s that you never let them see you frazzled. She would not let an opponent get in her head.
“You ready, Lex?” asks Anya, her co-captain. Lexa nods; she knows what she has to do to lead her team. She lets Anya pull her into the huddle, holding eye contact as Lexa steps to the center of the circle.
“You all know exactly what’s going to happen tonight,” Lexa begins. “We’re going to go out there and play as a team, and nothing they say or do is going to touch us. We play together, and we win together. Now let’s go kick some ass!” she finishes, to the cheers and whoops of the players around her.
Anya walks to midcourt for the tip-off, and Lexa and the rest of her Polis teammates take their places for the start of the game. She looks up and notices one of the Ark High players staring her down. Lexa simply raises an eyebrow before looking away and focusing on the game. She had never been more ready for something in her life.
Lexa Woods certainly does not get flustered under the gaze of an opponent. But the gaze of a blonde Ark High cheerleader standing on the baseline? That may be a completely different story.
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42-35. Lexa’s Grounders lead the Arkers by seven points at the start of the second half. Two more quarters. She’s got this.
Lexa has been having the game of her life, scoring basket after basket. Three-pointers, free throws, lay-ups; it doesn’t matter what the Arkers do. Nothing is stopping her.
“Okay, one more half you guys,” Anya says, looking at the sweaty faces of her teammates. “We keep playing the way we have been, and there’s not a damn thing in the world that can stop us from playing in that championship next week,” she continues. Lexa allows herself a small smile at her co-captain. Four years beside her, and they’re about to get what they’ve being working towards for their entire high school careers.
The buzzer sounds, and the second half begins. Lexa dribbles the ball up the court and passes it to Anya on her left. Lexa relocates, looking for an opportunity to score. As she’s cutting across the court, she glances towards the baseline.
She’s suddenly staring at the most amazing girl she has ever seen. Seriously, how can someone’s eyes be so damn blue? She’s pretty sure she’s standing in the middle of the free throw line without moving, but she can’t get her feet to start working again. She vaguely registers someone calling her name before she feels something smack straight into her temple.
Fuck.
She looks up from where she’s been knocked onto the court, watching as the Arkers take the ball down the floor and score two easy points. Her coach immediately calls a timeout, and Lexa quickly looks back to where the Ark High cheerleaders are standing. She sees the blonde girl’s lips quirk up on one side in a completely self-satisfied smirk. Lexa sends a glare her way before shaking her head and running over to her team’s bench.
“What the hell, Lexa?” Anya is furious, and Lexa doesn’t blame her.
“I know, I know. I got caught up for a second. You know I’m better than that; I’ve got this,” Lexa responds. She puts her hand in the middle of the team huddle and continues, “We’ve got this.”
Anya nods, and the rest of the team seems satisfied. It was a momentary lapse, Lexa’s sure of it. Their lead is down to five points and they’ve got to keep pressure on the opposing team. Blue eyes or not, Lexa will absolutely not be looking anywhere near the Ark High cheerleaders.
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The game continues, and Lexa is still a little out of rhythm. Her passes aren’t as crisp and her shots aren’t falling like they had been. Any time she looks towards the basket, she sees the girl’s blue eyes staring at her. That smirk never even leaves her face. She knows exactly what she’s doing, and Lexa hasn’t been able to stop it.
The game is tied by the start of the fourth quarter. Lexa dribbles down the lane and goes up for a shot, only to be pushed down by one of the Arker players. She knows for a fact that it was a foul, but the referee doesn't seem like he's planning on calling anything. The Arkers get the ball back, and their coach signals for a timeout.
Lexa smacks the ground with her palm in frustration, the sound of her hand hitting the hardwood drawing the attention of someone behind her. She’s hauled to her feet, and when she turns around, she’s met with the same eyes that have been throwing her off all evening. She smiles at Lexa, and it’s actually genuine. It’s probably even more distracting than her eyes. Lexa glares at her, frustrated at this girl for making her look weak in front of her teammates and opponents.
“You okay?” she asks, concerned. Her eyes are even prettier up close, and Lexa has got to get back to her team before she loses what’s left of her focus.
“Fine,” Lexa responds curtly before jogging over to the team’s bench. Her coach finishes giving the entire team some instruction before pulling Lexa off to the side.
“Whatever it is, Woods, you’d better fix it. We need your head in the game, so do whatever you need to do to pull yourself together. We’re counting on you.”
Lexa nods in response, “Of course, coach. I won’t let you all down.” She’s done letting this girl get the best of her.
A couple of plays later without any points, Lexa is determined to score. She doesn’t care how; she’s just got to get herself back on track. She takes the ball from Anya and sprints straight down the lane towards the basket. Her shot is off, but she gets smacked hard on the arm, hearing the referees whistle as her feet come back to the ground.
She steps to the free throw line, completely calm. She’s done this thousands upon thousands of times. The score is tied, and with only a few minutes left, she’s got to make these count. She steps up to the line and meets the stare of the cheerleader. The girl is raising her eyebrows at Lexa, but at least that infuriating smirk is gone. Lexa doesn’t look away; she holds eye contact, trying to seem completely unfazed.
She grabs the bottom of her jersey and pulls it up to wipe her face for a second. When she looks back towards the girl on the baseline, she’s surprised to not be meeting her eyes. She follows the girl’s gaze down to Lexa's exposed abs, and sees a faint blush creeping on to her pale cheeks.
Lexa has just regained the upper hand.
She sinks both free throws without a second thought, putting her team back in the lead. Her confidence hits her again in full force. If she can finish the rest of the game with the other girl as flustered as Lexa herself was at the beginning of the half, she knows it’s game over. She’s not missing another shot; she’s sure of that. She’s never been one for flashy performances. She puts her head down, she plays her game, and she doesn’t throw her talent in anyone’s face.
But sometimes, she’s learned, you’ve got to adapt to the game. Smirk firmly in place, she jogs back down the court. It’s time to win this thing.
The game goes back and forth for the next few minutes, both teams keeping pretty even. With five seconds left and her team down by two, Lexa is standing on the three-point line waiting on the play call. Her teammate brings the ball up the floor, sees Lexa standing wide open, and fires off the pass.
Lexa catches it, jumps, and flicks her wrist. She knows it’s good the moment it leaves her hand.
The net swishes as the shot falls through just before the buzzer sounds.
The crowd is screaming. Her teammates are clearing the bench. Her opponents are hanging their heads in defeat. And Lexa?
She points right at the girl and winks. She honest to God winks.
The blonde just shakes her head, a light smile playing at her lips. The next thing Lexa feels is the cool hardwood as she’s tackled to the ground by her teammates.
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Back in the locker room, Lexa endures relentless teasing for her “heart-eyes.”
“So, Lexa. Thought our championship hopes were gone. Never figured Clarke Griffin would be the one to throw you off your game,” teases Indra, another one of her teammates.
She rolls her eyes, in too good a mood to have some light teasing bother her. Her heart speeds up, definitely in excitement for the upcoming game. Certainly not because of the name she’s just learned. Clarke Griffin. Nope, definitely not because of her. Not her eyes. Not her hair or that smirk. Absolutely not.
(Clarke Griffin is absolutely the reason.)
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Walking towards her car that evening, Lexa hears footsteps approaching. She turns around, finding herself face to face with Clarke.
“Sorry it had to go down like that,” Lexa tells her, not really looking apologetic at all.
Clarke hums softly and shrugs. “I thought we had the win for sure, to be honest. Not too often you lose to a team when their star player keeps hitting the deck. Again. And again and again. Seemed like the great Lexa Woods was a little distracted.” The smirk is back, and Lexa is considerably less annoyed by it than she was during the game.
Lexa rolls her eyes, hoping Clarke can’t see how hard she's blushing. Clarke continues, “But hey, if you’re going to get totally beaned with a basketball, making the game-winning shot isn’t a bad way to redeem yourself.”
Lexa feels her confidence rush back as she thinks about the shot. “Anyways,” Lexa says, moving on from her embarrassment, “the championship game is next week. If your team can’t win, isn’t it best to lose to the champions? You should come. It’ll give you something to cheer for one more time.” Clarke’s face reddens, letting Lexa know that she’s not the only one who’s been a little distracted.
“Alright, superstar. I’ll be there. Try to stay on your feet this time,” Clarke responds. She steps into Lexa’s space, and Lexa feels her breathing quicken.
Clarke leans up on her toes, pressing a firm kiss to Lexa’s cheek. Lexa feels like she’s floating, and struggles to come up with a response. All she can manage is a little wave goodbye as Clarke walks to her own car.
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Years and years later, Lexa is looking in the mirror and readjusting her hair for what must be the twentieth time.
Anya comes up behind her and says, “Lex. Stop. You’re going to do great. And if you’re not out there saying your vows at exactly six o’clock, Clarke will kick my ass into next week.”
She punches Anya lightly on the arm and rolls her eyes. “What?” asks Anya, rubbing her arm. “You look fabulous. Just let me finish the makeup. Besides, you could go out there without any makeup or having used a hairbrush, and Clarke would still think you were the best thing she’d seen in her life.”
Lexa breathes in and out slowly. She looks at the clock. 5:28. Thirty-two minutes. Thirty-two minutes until the best moment of her life.