CHLOE
Seeing Clark sitting with Lex Luthor was a bit of a shock.
A shock. Usually it's a pleasant thing, or at least a normal thing.
But I walked out of the bathroom with a purpose. A chick on a mission. I was to learn more about Lex Luthor and to find out once and for all if he really did have feelings for me (I hadn't really formulated a plan yet, but I had an idea that more innuendoes had to be thrown around).
And what do I find? Sitting on my seat, most unwelcome, was Clark Kent. Doing what he was supposed to do when he first came here: having coffee with Lex Luthor. Something I was actually depending on.
And I found myself sending frantic mental signals to Lana Lang to bat her eyelashes at Clark and warp him back to her side.
As it was, there was no discomfort from any side, although I found myself avoiding Luthor's gaze for a moment. After a while though, the age-old banter came to save the day, and I was able to look at Luthor with convincing calm, and indulge in good old-fashioned flirting.
Thank God and all his little cherubs for that.
But of course, farm boy or no farm boy, the meaningful looks exchanged between Lex Luthor and myself was just a bit too weird for Clark to miss. Especially since he's our mutual best friend, and knows us (well, me) better than anyone else.
The second time he noticed, he didn't seem to take it lightly, and I can still picture Clark's eyes on us, demanding an answer, while Lex and I looked like children who got caught playing in the mud. It was an intense moment, one I couldn't decipher. Why would Clark make such a big deal out of it?
Miraculously enough my mental frantic signals worked (granted some time later). Lana Lang stood up and called Clark's name.
I never thought I'd say this, but oh thank you God for Lana Lang.
All the same, the moment was gone. If ever there was a moment in the first place. It was gone as soon as Clark verbally acknowledged it. His voice broke the spell that bound me to Lex Luthor's eyes for this evening, and I wonder if I should be thankful for that.
So, obviously, Lex might have been feeling something somewhere along those lines, because as soon as Clark got up to jump to Lana Lang's rescue, Lex excused himself. Said he was damn tired and needed to get some sleep.
At that point, Lana joined us for a while. The Real Lex Luthor came back and left the Ninja Turtle trivia Lex Luthor to shreds (which is a pity, because I liked him a lot) and was back to being charming with everyone in his good-byes, even to a bunch of teenagers like us.
He did pause when he came to me, looking down at me silently for a while, before saying, "I hope you intend to continue your assessment of me next Friday."
I wasn't quite sure what to say to that. My teenaged mind couldn't quite deal with the gallantry of the handsome (albeit demonic) man standing before me, and all I could do was nod mechanically.
Half an hour later I'm on my way home. Clark left with Lana at the same time, and the same as my arrival, no one noticed my departure.
I wonder if Lex Luthor would have. I noticed his departure. In fact, my eyes followed him sauntering out of The Beanery and into his car, and finally until he was out of my sight, never looking back once.
And now I find myself trying to come up with a conclusion to the thoughts I had of him in the bathroom of The Beanery, previously this evening.
Innuendoes were thrown about, caught and answered to my satisfaction, and except for that shot of fate that had Clark sitting with us I think I did come up with something solid.
Surely he was flirting with me. I can't be blind enough to not have noticed that.
Obviously, I can't conclude if he has feelings for me. Lex Luthor might be in the habit to flirt with all things female, granted he's never done so to me before this night.
Of course, I've never particularly thought of Lex Luthor as the flirty type. Charming sure, but not flirty.
But he was flirting with me. I squirm in my seat as my normal neurotic and pessimistic self comes flying back at me to slap me in the face. Wasn't he?
Or am I reading too much into this?
With this conclusion came others equally horrifying. Maybe he wasn' t flirting with me. Maybe I was throwing myself at him, that's why it looked like he was flirting with me. He was actually just being polite.
Maybe he was taking pity on a small town girl by giving her the time of day.
A lovesick small town girl, because I'm pretty sure he guesses my feelings for Clark.
Dammit.
I swing my car into the driveway of my house and calm down. The house is quiet and still, Dad must have gone straight to bed.
I go through the motions of locking the car, getting into the house, locking the front door, and climbing up the stairs to my room. And inside the familiarity of my room where, before tonight, I spent most times fantasizing about Clark Kent and not Lex Luthor, I come to a more satisfactory conclusion.
Who cares anyway? Maybe he was flirting, maybe not. I had fun tonight. That's all that matters.
I'm able to convince myself of this through clothes changing and face washing but am struck again mid-teeth brushing. My inability to stop thinking of Lex Luthor gives me a sneaking suspicion that maybe there's a bit more to it than that.
Right. Let's face it, Chloe Sullivan. Right here and right now, in the confines and privacy of my bathroom where there's absolutely no risk of anyone listening in.
I was hoping he would have feelings for me.
Why? Because I have feelings for him.
It's minute, but there, and throbbing. It's solid enough for me to grab and evaluate thoroughly.
It's a feeling I never had any hope for, but it's there.
I am attracted to Lex Luthor.
My stomach churns unpleasantly at the thought. And it churns not for the fact itself, but for another major reason.
It's a nightmare of an attraction, unless you looked like Victoria Hardwick, and the mirror in front of me plainly speaks that I don't.
And no matter what Lex Luthor said to me tonight, the villain doesn't flirt with the nerd. In fact, the villain doesn't associate with the nerd. The villain would not think twice about the nerd.
And how do I play on this attraction? I flirted with him.
Oh my GOD, am I MAD?
And with this final conclusion, I squish that hope and all further thoughts of hope, and it was done. Done while I rinsed my mouth, done while I walked into my room and done while I climbed into bed.
Yet his face still swims in front of my eyes, threatening a night of no sleep.
Annoyed, I lean over to my bedside lamp to call for darkness, make my eyes close and shut out Lex Luthor forever, or at least for tonight.
When the unmistakable sound of a car pulling into my driveway stops me.
Seeing Clark sitting with Lex Luthor was a bit of a shock.
A shock. Usually it's a pleasant thing, or at least a normal thing.
But I walked out of the bathroom with a purpose. A chick on a mission. I was to learn more about Lex Luthor and to find out once and for all if he really did have feelings for me (I hadn't really formulated a plan yet, but I had an idea that more innuendoes had to be thrown around).
And what do I find? Sitting on my seat, most unwelcome, was Clark Kent. Doing what he was supposed to do when he first came here: having coffee with Lex Luthor. Something I was actually depending on.
And I found myself sending frantic mental signals to Lana Lang to bat her eyelashes at Clark and warp him back to her side.
As it was, there was no discomfort from any side, although I found myself avoiding Luthor's gaze for a moment. After a while though, the age-old banter came to save the day, and I was able to look at Luthor with convincing calm, and indulge in good old-fashioned flirting.
Thank God and all his little cherubs for that.
But of course, farm boy or no farm boy, the meaningful looks exchanged between Lex Luthor and myself was just a bit too weird for Clark to miss. Especially since he's our mutual best friend, and knows us (well, me) better than anyone else.
The second time he noticed, he didn't seem to take it lightly, and I can still picture Clark's eyes on us, demanding an answer, while Lex and I looked like children who got caught playing in the mud. It was an intense moment, one I couldn't decipher. Why would Clark make such a big deal out of it?
Miraculously enough my mental frantic signals worked (granted some time later). Lana Lang stood up and called Clark's name.
I never thought I'd say this, but oh thank you God for Lana Lang.
All the same, the moment was gone. If ever there was a moment in the first place. It was gone as soon as Clark verbally acknowledged it. His voice broke the spell that bound me to Lex Luthor's eyes for this evening, and I wonder if I should be thankful for that.
So, obviously, Lex might have been feeling something somewhere along those lines, because as soon as Clark got up to jump to Lana Lang's rescue, Lex excused himself. Said he was damn tired and needed to get some sleep.
At that point, Lana joined us for a while. The Real Lex Luthor came back and left the Ninja Turtle trivia Lex Luthor to shreds (which is a pity, because I liked him a lot) and was back to being charming with everyone in his good-byes, even to a bunch of teenagers like us.
He did pause when he came to me, looking down at me silently for a while, before saying, "I hope you intend to continue your assessment of me next Friday."
I wasn't quite sure what to say to that. My teenaged mind couldn't quite deal with the gallantry of the handsome (albeit demonic) man standing before me, and all I could do was nod mechanically.
Half an hour later I'm on my way home. Clark left with Lana at the same time, and the same as my arrival, no one noticed my departure.
I wonder if Lex Luthor would have. I noticed his departure. In fact, my eyes followed him sauntering out of The Beanery and into his car, and finally until he was out of my sight, never looking back once.
And now I find myself trying to come up with a conclusion to the thoughts I had of him in the bathroom of The Beanery, previously this evening.
Innuendoes were thrown about, caught and answered to my satisfaction, and except for that shot of fate that had Clark sitting with us I think I did come up with something solid.
Surely he was flirting with me. I can't be blind enough to not have noticed that.
Obviously, I can't conclude if he has feelings for me. Lex Luthor might be in the habit to flirt with all things female, granted he's never done so to me before this night.
Of course, I've never particularly thought of Lex Luthor as the flirty type. Charming sure, but not flirty.
But he was flirting with me. I squirm in my seat as my normal neurotic and pessimistic self comes flying back at me to slap me in the face. Wasn't he?
Or am I reading too much into this?
With this conclusion came others equally horrifying. Maybe he wasn' t flirting with me. Maybe I was throwing myself at him, that's why it looked like he was flirting with me. He was actually just being polite.
Maybe he was taking pity on a small town girl by giving her the time of day.
A lovesick small town girl, because I'm pretty sure he guesses my feelings for Clark.
Dammit.
I swing my car into the driveway of my house and calm down. The house is quiet and still, Dad must have gone straight to bed.
I go through the motions of locking the car, getting into the house, locking the front door, and climbing up the stairs to my room. And inside the familiarity of my room where, before tonight, I spent most times fantasizing about Clark Kent and not Lex Luthor, I come to a more satisfactory conclusion.
Who cares anyway? Maybe he was flirting, maybe not. I had fun tonight. That's all that matters.
I'm able to convince myself of this through clothes changing and face washing but am struck again mid-teeth brushing. My inability to stop thinking of Lex Luthor gives me a sneaking suspicion that maybe there's a bit more to it than that.
Right. Let's face it, Chloe Sullivan. Right here and right now, in the confines and privacy of my bathroom where there's absolutely no risk of anyone listening in.
I was hoping he would have feelings for me.
Why? Because I have feelings for him.
It's minute, but there, and throbbing. It's solid enough for me to grab and evaluate thoroughly.
It's a feeling I never had any hope for, but it's there.
I am attracted to Lex Luthor.
My stomach churns unpleasantly at the thought. And it churns not for the fact itself, but for another major reason.
It's a nightmare of an attraction, unless you looked like Victoria Hardwick, and the mirror in front of me plainly speaks that I don't.
And no matter what Lex Luthor said to me tonight, the villain doesn't flirt with the nerd. In fact, the villain doesn't associate with the nerd. The villain would not think twice about the nerd.
And how do I play on this attraction? I flirted with him.
Oh my GOD, am I MAD?
And with this final conclusion, I squish that hope and all further thoughts of hope, and it was done. Done while I rinsed my mouth, done while I walked into my room and done while I climbed into bed.
Yet his face still swims in front of my eyes, threatening a night of no sleep.
Annoyed, I lean over to my bedside lamp to call for darkness, make my eyes close and shut out Lex Luthor forever, or at least for tonight.
When the unmistakable sound of a car pulling into my driveway stops me.