The moon stared at them. Clark wanted to reach up and widen the tear, unveil the rest of the sky and perhaps find different colors, different faces, different powers…

Lana shook her head, hair swinging in the dark. "I'm so sorry, Clark, for acting like such an idiot."

"You didn't, Lana. You were upset. I understand, believe me. I shouldn't have-"

"Don't!" She interrupted suddenly. "Don't patronize me. Please!" She stared at him. He stared back, surprised. "It was not your fault. It was mine. I don't have an excuse for everything, you know." She gestured with her arms. "I do the wrong thing sometimes. And… kissing… you, Clark, was the wrong thing to do then." She pursed her lips. "I'm sorry."

Why? He thought, heart aching. Why is it the wrong thing? He nodded slowly. "I accept," he said with almost comical seriousness. But Lana was not finished.

"I shouldn't have made you stay, either… I involved you in my personal fight and it was wrong. I should have let you go. It was awkward and embarrassing for you and it didn't help me to work things out." Clark couldn't tell if she was talking to him or herself. "Can you forgive me?" They had stopped walking. Her face was tilted up towards his, a round, pale glimpse of something far too ethereal and lovely. He wanted to say No. No, I cannot forgive you because I love you, and you can't kiss me and then take it back. But what came out of his mouth was "What's to forgive?" His smile was tinged with sadness. "It's already forgotten."

She hugged him then, and he almost cried out. It was like she was totally deaf to what he was feeling. "Thank you, Clark," she said warmly. "You're such a good friend." The irony made him want to cry.

"Of course I am," he murmured bitterly.

"What?" she asked.

"Nothing."

They continued to walk in silence for a few minutes. "Clark?" Lana asked softly after a while.

"Yeah?"

She didn't say anything for a minute. When she spoke he could hear the apprehension in her voice. "Do you have feelings for me?"

The apprehension echoed the embarrassed smile he had seen on her before. After his answer, should it be yes, would come the strained polite excuses to leave and the guilty avoidance later, at school or around the town. She would feel bad but would not want to be around someone that she was not interested in- and who was interested in her.

"No." He said. His voice trembled slightly, almost cracked, but he managed to say it without giving away the enormous lie he was painting so thinly.

She nodded. For a split second she seemed disappointed. Had he misjudged? His heart jumped. Did she want him after all? Did she-

"That's good," she said. "I wouldn't want anything to- to interfere with our friendship." He couldn't see her expression as they passed under a tree. Of course. Just friends. Bitterness welled up again and he bit his lip. In one night he had shed more tears than in the rest of his life. He was not going to do it again. Boys don't cry, he told himself fiercely. They don't. He swallowed.

"Me neither," he said so quietly that he wasn't sure she heard him. He wanted a stretch of land, a stretch of forever where he could run, where he could run and run and not worry about love and secrets. "Lana?" It was all going to come out. Words would tumble and pour out of his mouth until he stuttered to a stop and all of his secrets would be lying on the ground where she could pick them up.

She looked at him seriously. "Yes, Clark?"

They stared at each other for a long time. Then he looked down.

"Never mind."