Clark loaded what he called his batting cage, a series of high-caliber rifles, and set the timers to start off slow, then speed up. He gave himself one point for every bullet he dodged, two for every one he caught mid-air, and minus fifty for each one that hit him. Over the last months, he'd increased the penalties a dozen times, but still scored in the high hundreds each time he played for more than an hour.

Lex used to call it the Phallic Emission Olympics but subsided when Clark finally realized the effectiveness of accusing him of jealousy and smiling with a copy of Lex's own smirk.

He learned quite a lot from chat rooms, where he could pretend to be anybody other than Clark Luthor, teenage freak and misfit. He suspected that Lionel would kill him if he knew that Clark spent any time in chat rooms, except under his direct supervision. *Oh, that would be so gross! Well, it'd be okay if I were chatting with the guys in the sports channels, but not when I go into the channels where there are girls. Oh, that would be gross beyond grossness.*

Now all the girls online had glossy dark hair, glowing eyes, shining lips, and skin as rich and smooth as a fresh flower's petal, in his mind's eye. As he jumped over a low bullet, he imagined himself scooping her out of danger, carrying her to safety in his arms as he ran so fast it was like flying. She'd hang on tight, her eyes closed, and then tell him how strong he is, how wonderful he is to rescue her, and ask if she could kiss him. The next bullet came high and he lept to catch it, then dove through the air for the next. As he imagined the feel of her lips against his, he found himself hovering in the air instead of drawing his feet back under himself and landing.

"Wow!" *Hey, this is just like when Mom took us to see Peter Pan! This is so cool, I'm actually flying!* He tentatively moved his arms and legs as if he were swimming, which moved him forward a bit, but not quite as fast or as strongly as he wanted. *Now what? Okay, how does a plane move? Maybe if I displace air with my breath, too?* He propelled himself over to the other end of the room and turned off the rifles, which were distracting him. *Oh, man, Dad will freak if next time he flies the helicopter in, I fly up to buzz him! I have so got to do it!*