Growing up, the day of the Catfish Festival had always been Clarke's favorite day of the year. Not her birthday, not Christmas, not even Halloween. No. The Catfish Festival was her favorite day. It somehow managed to always fall on the best Saturday of the summer. It was never too muggy, it was never too hot. It was just sunny enough without being overwhelming.
There had never been a year where Clarke hadn't thought that the Saturday of the Catfish Festival was the best day of the year. That included the year she and Lexa were married. She had a feeling though that this would be the first year where she would be attending the festival and it wouldn't be her favorite day of the year.
Nevertheless, Clarke decided that if she was going to go to the festival, then she'd at least enjoy it. She'd enjoy the ferris wheel, all the different fair foods, line dancing and drunken debauchery.
Going all in also meant dressing for the part, blending in with everyone else, and that was something that she was struggling with. It was already nearly noon and the festival was in full swing and Clarke was still in her childhood bedroom, tearing apart her closet trying to find something to wear.
She managed to find a pair of cutoff jean shorts that fit her, along with an old white tank and a red flannel that she would throw over it once it got cooler in the evening. Shoes, however, were a problem. Everyone wore cowboy books to the Catfish Festival and her nice pair of Frye's were in New York. Not that she'd ever worn them up north.
"Mom!" Clarke yelled out, sticking her head out her door. "Do you have boots I can borrow?"
Clarke stood there waiting, listening as Abby rummaged around her closet making loud noises. A minute later, she walked into the hall holding up a pair of boots. Clarke mentally face palmed herself at the sight of the boots.
"I've only worn them a few times since you left, but that's why they weren't in your room," Abby explained as she handed the boots to Clarke. The cowboy boots were brown on the feet but had the pattern of the American flag on the upper sides of boots.
Clarke offered her mother a fake smile and took the boots from her. As far as Abby knew, they were just boots she'd left at home. She didn't realize the significance of them. Though now, she wasn't sure they had any significance.
Shaking off the residual memory, Clarke thanked her mother and put on the shoes.
"You riding with me and Dad to the festival?" Abby asked before she turned to leave.
Clarke contemplated for a moment, remembering her resolve to not leave any bridges burnt before she left to return to New York. "Yeah, sure," she nodded.
"Help me load the pies into the car, then we'll go."
"Great, I'm ready," Clarke nodded as she followed her mom down the hallway to the kitchen.
Less than twenty minutes later, Clarke and her parents had arrived at the fairgrounds. Clarke spotted the food tables and helped her mom bring over her famous pies. She made small talk with her mother's friends, friends who had once condemned her as doing the devil's work.
"Your momma was just telling us yesterday at book club about your engagement," Vera Kane spoke.
"She even showed us the article in the New Yorker," another friend confirmed. "Good to see that you've finally found yourself a good man and turned your life around. Left the devil behind you. You know, I always thought you were just as bad as the Woods girl, but I guess she was just influencing you all along."
Clarke bit her tongue. She was used to the remarks from her mother's friends, but in the past she'd always lashed back at them. This time, however, she stayed quiet. The last thing she wanted to talk about was Lexa. Ever since mailing the papers to her lawyer, she'd been avoiding thinking about her ex. The finality of placing the papers in the mailbox had hit her much harder than she had expected it to and she didn't want to think about what that meant.
"Now let's not talk about such things on such a festive day," Abby interrupted, not taking her friends' side for once. "Haven't we gotten past that all?"
When Clarke looked at her mother in shock, she caught sight of a group of people at a picnic table over her mother's shoulder.
"Sorry, I've got to go," she spoke. She left her mom behind and approached the picnic table.
"Wells Forest, I swear if you throw one more chicken nugget at your brother, then there will be NO dessert," asserted the pregnant woman, hands on her hips, long dark hair up in a ponytail.
"I'd listen to your Momma if I were you," Clarke spoke as she approached the table, slipping back into her southern accent as if it were the easiest thing in the world.
Octavia turned to look at the blonde in surprise.
"Hi," Clarke spoke sheepishly.
"Clarke," the brunette nodded.
"I umm, I wanted to apologize," Clarke admitted. "I was seriously in the wrong the other night. Basically I was a..." she paused and looked over at the two boys. "B-I-T-C-H," she spelt out.
Octavia laughed out loud, "Those two little ones know the world bitch. I'm not exactly known for having the cleanest of mouths." She looked between Clarke and her children before speaking again. "Kids, we're going to have ourselves a little visit from Miss. Griffin, so let's be nice." She then gestured for Clarke to sit down with her family.
"I'm Wells," the older boy spoke. "I'm three."
Clarke grinned at the boy, he didn't look at all like the Wells she had grown up with, but Lincoln was right, there was something about him that reminded her of her old friend. "It's nice to meet you Wells," Clarke grinned. "And what's your name?" Clarke turned towards the younger boy.
"Link," the younger boy responded.
"But Daddy calls him Junior," Wells added.
Clarke smiled back at the boys and Octavia quickly inserted herself in the conversation, clearly glad to be talking to someone over the age of three. They talked for over an hour before Lincoln came and joined them, bringing with him Bellamy, Jasper and Monty. Lincoln appeared to be content with that fact that Clarke seemed to be on good terms with his wife. The others, however still appeared apprehensive.
Clarke was surprised by the way Bellamy stood protectively behind his sister. They'd never had much of a relationship growing up, separated by nature of their births, but he was a natural brother to her and acted as such.
"Alright," Clarke sighed. "Group apology time. I'm sorry I'm such an awful person."
They'd graduated from high school nearly two months earlier and the day of the Catfish Festival was one that Clarke and Lexa had been looking forward to since graduation. But for different reasons.
Clarke had always loved the festival, and while Lexa had as well, she had a new reason to be excited for it.
For their senior trip, the graduating class had gone to Birmingham. While they were there, Lexa and Clarke had bought matching pairs of cowboy boots, designed with an American flag print on them. They had been impulse buys, but with all the compliments they received on them as they wore them for the first time at the Catfish Festival, they were worth it.
They spent the day with their friends, eating food, dancing and enjoying themselves, but once darkness fell, Clarke let Lexa lead her over to the ferris wheel.
As they made their way up to the top, they talked about their day, taking breaks to make out.
"I wonder if people have sex in these things," Clarke asked out loud. "I mean, you're high enough up that people can't see in."
"That's a good question," Lexa laughed before returning her lips to Clarke's neck, distracting herself until they reached the peak of the ferris wheel.
It was once they reached the peak that Lexa pulled the ring out of her pocket. It had on it only a small diamond, but the ring was more than that to her. She couldn't quite get down on one knee, but Clarke knew what was happening the second Lexa reached into her pocket.
"Oh my god!" the blonde squealed. "Yes!"
"But I haven't even asked the question yet," Lexa frowned with a chuckle.
"Okay, okay, sorry," Clarke attempted to settle down a bit.
"Clarke, I know we're young. I'm eighteen and you're seventeen still for two months, but I've loved you a long time. You were my first kiss, and I want you to be my last. Clarke Griffin, will you marry me?"
"Yes!" Clarke exclaimed, kissing the brunette fervently as the ring was pushed onto her finger.
Clarke didn't have to ask about the ring, because she knew. Lexa had already told her that her mom's ring had been given to Anya and Lexa, and that Anya had decided that Lexa could have it, as she was the one that would be proposing to someone one day. Anya never had any plans to marry.
Clarke didn't have to ask about the ring, because she knew. She knew it was the most important thing Lexa had left of her mother who had died when she was so young. The size of the ring didn't matter, because the size of the heart of the girl that gave it to her was the most important thing in the world.
And because she loved Lexa. More than anything. And Lexa loved her just as much.
Lexa didn't arrive at the Catfish Festival until it was well underway, as she had been finishing up moving everything out of her house. The festival was in full swing when she arrived. Teens were wandering around, sneaking away with beers, children were in line for the ferris wheel and adults enjoyed drinking in each other's company while many hit the dance floor.
"Is was starting to think you weren't going to show up," Bellamy spoke, coming up alongside of Lexa, handing her a beer.
"I was getting some packing done," she explained. "I officially move on Monday."
"No shit," the man shook his head. "It's going to be weird without you here."
"I'm hardly here as it is," Lexa offered. "Work keeps me in Birmingham."
"Have you told Clarke yet why it is that you're moving away?" Bellamy asked.
"It doesn't matter," Lexa shrugged in response.
"Whatever you say. Come on, we've got a table."
Lexa nodded and followed Bellamy over to where her friends all surrounded a picnic table, drinking beers. She immediately noticed the blonde sitting with them, laughing alongside Octavia at something Lincoln had just said.
"Lexa!" Lincoln looked up at Lexa's arrival with a smile. "You finally made it."
"I've never missed a Catfish Festival before, no reason to start now," Lexa announced. She hadn't purposely tried to catch Clarke's eyes as she spoke, but it was as if she was magnetically drawn to them. And Clarke looked right back at her. There was a softness in Clarke's eyes that Lexa had not been expecting.
"These glasses are really something," Clarke spoke, changing the topic as she lifted up the glass she was holding and looked underneath it.
"What're you doing?" Monty asked.
"Trying to see who makes it. Maybe they have a store up in New York."
"Did you hear that Lex?" Jasper spoke. "Clarke's wondering where that fancy glassware comes from."
"Okay," Lexa shrugged, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible. "I don't know how to help her with that."
There was a moment of awkward silence before all of a sudden, the band playing, started a new song - "Sweet Home Alabama." The crowd went wild everyone immediately hit the dance floor.
Bellamy grabbed Clarke and pulled her onto the dance floor saying, "Come on, it's been too long since we've danced together." Lexa watched as she laughed, following him.
It wasn't until Clarke was already on the dance floor that Lexa noticed the shoes the blonde was wearing. The same American flag cowboy boots that were on her own feet. Lexa hadn't even thought about the meaning behind them when she'd put them on that morning, they were just another pair of boots now. But seeing them on Clarke still hurt a bit.
Lexa watched as Clarke laughed, making fun of Bellamy's two left feet. Catching Lexa's smirk, Bellamy danced his way over to the brunette, Clarke in tow. He took Octavia from Lexa's side and handed Clarke off to Lexa. Lexa raised her eyebrows at the blonde. A moment passed and it seemed like an eternity before Clarke extended a hand and Lexa took it, letting herself be pulled onto the dance floor by the woman she gave her heart to.
It was almost like nothing had happened, that they were still sixteen and in love, eighteen and engaged, twenty and blissfully in love, having no idea that their time was limited. Dancing with Clarke was second nature to Lexa, something that terrified her.
She didn't want to think about the way Clarke smiled as she moved to the beat of the song. She couldn't afford to, not anymore. She wouldn't let herself fall back for Clarke, because love was weakness and she'd learned that the hard way.
They continued to dance together, their bodies several inches apart, but they were alone on the dance floor. Everyone else had paired up.
"I didn't realize how much I missed dancing like this," Clarke laughed over the music.
"They don't have any dancing up in New York?" Lexa asked with a smirk.
"It's not the same," Clarke admitted. "We have clubs, they can be fun. But nothing like dancing at the Catfish Festival."
The song ended and the band immediately switched to a slower song. Lexa took a chance and took one of Clarke's hands in one and placed another on the girl's waist. The blonde hesitated before she gave Lexa's hand a slight squeeze before placing her other one on Lexa's shoulder.
Lexa didn't register what song it was at first, too focused on the proximity she was to Clarke. When she paid attention to the lyrics though, Lexa could feel the blood rush from her face and her stomach dropped.
Lexa tripped over Clarke's foot as the weight of the song hit her.
"Sorry," she muttered.
Suddenly, it was too much for Lexa to handle. She could handle dancing to "Sweet Home Alabama" with her ex, but suddenly "Another Love" playing hit too close to home. She couldn't handle it.
"I'm sorry," she shook her head and pulled away from Clarke before walking away.
As she walked away, she noticed that Bellamy and approached Clarke again, but being too far away, she didn't hear their conversation.
"She went up there, you know," Bellamy spoke.
"Where?" Clarke asked.
"To New York."
"What? When?" Clarke voice was alert with surprise.
"About a few months after you left," Bellamy explained. "She got there and saw the city, said that you were never coming back. She said she'd need more than just an apology to win you back. Said she needed to conquer the world first. She's been trying ever since."
Lexa didn't hear the exchange between Bellamy and Clarke, but if she had, she would have been able to see the look of devastation on Clarke's face as she realized that Lexa had tried to fight for, had tried to get her to come home.
After leaving Clarke on the dance floor, Lexa left to find Anya, needing another beer. She wasn't a heavy drinker anymore, but she still enjoyed herself. After a couple of hours, however, she was ready to go home.
Knowing that she was likely going to be drinking, she'd opted not to drive, and was walking home. She was meandering her way home when she passed by the cemetery. She did a double take when she saw a familiar blonde kneeling in front a headstone.
Lexa's feet moved of her own accord, leading her into the cemetery. She purposely walked around the graves so that she didn't startle Clarke.
"Hey," she announced her presence to the blonde.
"Hi," Clarke responded with a sniffle, wiping tears out of her eyes.
Lexa walked around to the same side of the headstone that Clarke was on, knowing exactly who it belonged to.
"He'd be really proud of you, you know," Lexa spoke, sitting down beside her ex, wrapping an arm around her. "He always said you were better than this town."
"He said the same about you," Clarke rested her head on the brunette's shoulder. They sat that way in silence for several long moments. "I miss him a lot. Or at least, I always thought that it was him that I was missing. Being back here though, I realize that it might not just be him that I'm missing."
"Oh?" Lexa asked.
"Yeah," Clarke nodded. "I think I missed Polis more than I wanted to admit. I was just lying to myself about it."
"We all miss him. And I think everyone here misses you too."
"I'm happy in New York," Clarke sighed, "But then I come back here, and this fits as well."
"You can have roots and still fly Clarke."
"Maybe I can just fly south for the winter?" Clarke asked with a laugh.
"You know, I go back to that beach sometimes," Lexa spoke, knowing that Clarke would know exactly what beach she was talking about. "When I see the big thunderheads rolling in, I go out there, try and see what I can dig up."
After several more moments of silence, Clarke lifted her head off Lexa's shoulder and stood up, pulling Lexa up with her.
"It was nice dancing with you tonight," Clarke admitted.
"I'm sorry I didn't get to dance with you at our wedding," Lexa offered up her own admission. It was one of her biggest regrets of her life, getting too drunk the night before her wedding and getting sick right after the ceremony.
"We both have shit to apologize for," Clarke nodded, grabbing Lexa's hand and squeezing it. "I've got another of my own."
Lexa narrowed her eyes at the blonde, wondering what else she could be apologizing for. She stepped closer to the brunette until there was almost no space between them.
"I lied about never loving you," Clarke spoke. "I lied when I said I was straight and that I regretted being with you. I don't. And I'm not straight."
Lexa's eyes darted down to Clarke's lips, then back up again to her eyes, only to see that Clarke's had just done the same.
"Clarke," Lexa sighed.
"Shhh," Clarke hushed the brunette, pressing a finger to her lips. She then pressed her lips to Lexa's cheek.