The Three Truths

Chapter 15

Their university's library was nothing special, really. It was pretty enough to look at, smelled of paper and ink and the fragrant scent of old books, the coffee shop in the basement continually waging a losing war on keeping the sleep-deprived and caffeine-addicted students happy.

But to them, the library was everything.

It was where they first ran into each other, where they stayed up all night quizzing each other for exams, where they found an unlocked door that led to the roof and began sneaking up there to be alone, where Lexa first called Clarke her best friend, where Clarke first promised that she'd do anything for Lexa, where Lexa felt the urge to admit to Clarke that she had fallen in love with her, that she was in love with her. (She had been dressed in her cap and gown, glowing in the excitement of finally graduating, and Clarke was waiting in line for coffee, her hair sticking out in odd directions thanks to the cap, a brilliant smile on her face, and Lexa wanted to tell her, tell her everything.)

Emerson Library, a fairly forgotten and ignored building on campus, was Lexa and Clarke's favorite place in the entire world.

(Naturally, she'd thought when Clarke told her it would be the safe word. It makes sense. Now, she said it with anger, demonizing the very place she'd once loved so much.)

"Emerson." The word came out of her like a burst dam, somehow sounding like the vocalization of every ounce of pain she endured, every moment of bitterness she shoved down, every agonizing second of heartbreak she consistently ignored. It was a single word, yet it wasn't. It was Clarke and Lexa in a nutshell, and it was the shattering of that connection. "I should never have agreed to be your fake girlfriend in the first place."

"Someone spilled the beans," Carol said shakily, looking around at John and Abby's wide-eyed faces, at Octavia and Raven's identical looks of shock (at what, Lexa didn't know), at Clarke's (Clarke's) still flowing tears, her voice echoing in the silence that followed Lexa's revelation. The now-empty can of beans rolled on the floor, forgotten, Carol's joke not landing. Because logically, rationally, Lexa knew what Carol was doing—knew that she was trying to help, knew that had it been any other day at any other moment, it would have worked. But Lexa was rubbed raw, the pain was too much, the wounds still far too fresh.

"You told me," she said, turning to the older woman, "that your faith was restored. That Clarke was just projecting." She couldn't help the accusatory tone that seeped into her voice then, couldn't help the way her face contorted in pain, couldn't help but feel sick to the stomach when she saw that pain mirrored on Carol's face. "I thought of you as family. But you lied to me too." Without bothering to look at any of the others, Lexa rushed out of the kitchen, a single thought on her mind as she practically ran up the stairs and barged into the room she and Clarke had shared, immediately reaching for her bags:

She had to go.

She was halfway through packing up her things when she heard the knock on the door, and she groaned, knowing she should have expected it, knowing she should have just locked the door when it opened without her consent.

"Go away, Clarke, I'm not in the mood."

"I don't know where Clarke is, actually," Abby said, forcing Lexa to look up in shock, surprised to see the doctor. "She left." Lexa swallowed back her surprise at Clarke's flight (Clarke), and focused on the woman in front of her.

"I'm leaving as well." She paused, clearing her throat uncomfortably. "I'm sorry Dr. Griffin, for lying to you, for trying to trick you."

"You didn't lie to me."

"But I—"

"I may not be a involved in my daughter's life as I'd like, Lexa, but I think I know enough to know that you two were never dating." Lexa blinked, unable to process the revelation, choosing instead to sit down at the edge of the bed. "I'm her mother. Clarke has never been able to lie to me."