Author's note: Just a disclaimer to those who are new joining this story: My updates will be random and sporadic, and I am not sure how long I will be able to continue writing it, but I will do my best to finish this story. I apologize for any grammatical or spelling errors; usually I write right before I go to bed so I am usually half asleep. Please enjoy this story!

CHAPTER 1

Clark was staring intently out the schoolroom window, straining his overly-powerful sight and vision as far as he could because he thought he heard a woman screaming somewhere very far away. He squinted and stretched in his chair, eyes trained intently in the direction of the noise.

"Clark, are you paying attention?"

Clark's head snapped forward to face his teacher. He could feel the eyes of almost every eleventh-grader in the room on him. He blushed, embarrassed, and ducked his head briefly, then lifted it back up to speak.

"No, ma'am, I'm sorry ma'am," he apologized timidly. She sighed but gave a tiny smile of forgiveness. "May I please use the restroom?" Clark asked softly. The teacher nodded. He gratefully stood up and bolted for the door.

However, Clark Kent did not head towards the tiny bathroom on the left end of the hall.

He ran towards the exit on the right side of the building, gaining speed as he went. He burst out of the swinging wooden doors and into the outside playground and paused for a second, allowing his ears to give him more information about the location of the screaming woman. She let out another yell and, now knowing the location of the sound, Clark took off into the air like a rocket ship blasting off from Earth.

~O~

Claire Williams watched Clark leave the classroom with curious eyes, looking like he was in somewhat of a hurry. She frowned slightly as she pondered his sudden departure.

She was advanced compared to the rest of her eleventh-grade friends, so she picked up on some subtle details that other kids at that age glazed over, most of these facts concerning Clark Kent. For example, Clark would frequently use the bathroom at random times during the day. Most of the day he was focused on his lessons, but occasionally he would be caught looking out the window, focused intently on something no one else could see. Shortly after these daydreaming episodes (perhaps not daydreaming; he seemed much too focused on what he was thinking about for that), he would asked to leave the room for one reason or another, claiming things like "the bathroom" or "the nurse".

Another thing she noticed was that kids would openly pick on him for being a "freak". Claire was never one of those individuals. She was the type of girl who would have to excuse herself from the room when the ASPCA commercials came on the TV to cry.

She was very sensitive of other people's emotions as well; it was somewhat of an instinct to her. She could always tell what other people were feeling when she observed them or when they talked to her. Every exchange she had ever had with Clark Kent had been polite and non-freakish, but she could sense an undercurrent of sadness in his voice and his cerulean blue eyes.

Being a quiet girl who preferred to hide behind her brown curly locks rather than talk to people, and Clark being much of the same, she found that she could relate to him even though they didn't know each other very well. So she could not for the life of her understand why kids thought of him as a freak. She heard whispered rumors of strange things Clark Kent may have done, or strange places that he may have been found in, but in no way was that any of their business, but also, those were some of the lesser things you could do to designate you to "freak status". The kids who picked their nose and ate it were better liked than poor Clark (which was really saying something, because those goons were disgusting).

Claire surmised that Clark took these "bathroom breaks" to collect himself. She guessed that it must be horrible to be teased every day for no reason, and sometimes, he needed a break from the prying and judging eyes he faced in the classroom. The thought made her heart ache.

'How lonely it must be,' she thought, 'to be alone in this world like he is.' Then a thought struck her. 'Today will be the day that I will talk to Clark.' She mentally berated herself for not deciding to talk to him sooner. She would have felt horrible if it was her that got teased every day and had no friends.

Clark walked back into the classroom at that moment, his shirt untucked and his hair looking a bit messy. He sat just across the aisle from her, so when he sat down she caught his eye and smiled at him. He shyly smiled back at her and gave a tiny wave. She couldn't help but admire his bright blue eyes and friendly dimples. Unfortunately, her heart couldn't help but noticing those things either, as it beat just a bit faster. Her grin widened as a light blush crept up her neck and cheeks. Then they both turned back to face the teacher, Claire biting her lip and trying to restrain herself from looking at him again, and Clark trying to prevent his grin from getting wider.

~O~

The rest of Claire's day passed by uneventfully. But she couldn't get Clark's smile out of her head for the remainder of the day, so she had trouble focusing on her classes. She made up her mind in sixth period that she would try to find him after school. Nervous energy filled her, and the last bell of the day came much too quickly for her liking. She took her time at her locker, almost hoping she would be too slow for him and she would miss her chance. She took extra time filling up her blue backpack and spent even more time checking her reflection in the bathroom mirror, adjusting her curly hair and fixing her blouse. She dusted off her vans for invisible specks of dust and made sure her jean pockets weren't turned inside out.

But luck wasn't (or was) on her side, because she found him still at his locker as she rounded the corner on her way out of the building. She glanced at him and bit her bottom lip anxiously, and walked right past him. But she slowed her footsteps until she came to a stop, then abruptly turned around and walked back to him. She took a deep breath and balled her fists at her sides. It suddenly occurred to her that she had no idea what to say. Thinking back on her day, she suddenly remembered something he had written for English class that had thoroughly impressed her, a surprisingly believable narrative about being a superhero.

"Hey, Clark, that was a really nice paper you wrote for English class." She stuttered out, trying not to appear nervous but most likely failing miserably, managing a meager smile. He looked away from the books he was retrieving from his locker and met her eyes. 'Gosh, they're beautiful.' Claire thought. When he smiled kindly at her, her heart raced yet again.

"Thank you, Claire. I enjoyed yours too." He said genuinely.

"Thanks." She said softly, still distracted by his beautiful eyes. She crashed down to earth when he politely cleared his throat.

"My parents are expecting me at home though, and it's quite a walk, so I have to go." He said apologetically, and started to walk off. He got most of the way down the hallway before Claire found her voice.

"Wait—Clark—do you need a ride?" Claire called after him before she could give the idea a second thought. He turned back around, looking surprised, as though no one had thought to give him such a simple act of kindness.

"I… I would appreciate that very much," Clark said softly, then quickly added, "if it wouldn't be too much trouble for you. I wouldn't want to make you late getting home."

Claire smiled warmly. "It's no trouble, Clark. I wouldn't have offered if it would have been an inconvenience." He smiled and waited for her to catch up to him.

"Then I would very much like a ride home." He said pleasantly. Claire smiled yet again and they walked down the hallway together in pleasant silence.