Chapter 4: "Soul Search"

Clark awoke at four o'clock six days a week during the summer to help with the harvest. He usually worked until two and then had free time for the rest of the day.

He walked into the house, dirty with the stains of earth and hay on his shirt and jeans, at the exact moment the phone rang.

"Clark!"

"Are you busy right now?" she asked.

"I'm taking a shower and then heading over to Lana's."

"Oh. I guess you're … going for it?"

"I'm not sure. I just want to talk to her."

"OK. Ask me how my date went this afternoon."

"How was your date this afternoon?"

"As much as Jorge is a hottie and a half, the spectrum of conversation just wasn't as eclectic as I wanted."

"And that in plain English is?"

"All he could talk about was the meteor shower, Clark," Chloe said. "We went to the Torch office this morning, and we spent two hours – two hours! – going over the Wall of Weird and every article, picture and file that I possess directly or indirectly related to the Smallville meteor shower 1989."

"I guess you guys have a lot in common," Clark said, chuckling.

"No! No, we don't! As a matter of fact, I would like to think that I have more substance to my personality than meteors and the meteor shower."

"Of course you do, Chloe. You have the Torch. And caffeine."

"Thank you, Captain Supportive."

"Chloe, I'm dirty and need to take a shower right now. Come by around four. You can bag on Señor Meteor all you want then."

"Fine."

Clark headed upstairs to shower. When he finished, he decided that he should probably talk to Lana. They said goodbye on a somewhat awkward note last night, and Clark didn't want to be uncomfortable around her. He decided to walk to her house.

"Clark! What are you doing here?" Lana said, surprised to see Clark standing on her porch when she opened the door.

"Are you busy?" Clark asked.

"Well, I'm about to go to the Talon," she said, her eyes darting around nervously and not quite meeting his. "I work at two-thirty."

"Did you need a ride?"

Lana began to stammer, and then Whitney appeared at the door behind her. "I think I've got it, Kent."

Clark's eyes widened in surprise, but he didn't say anything. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. Before he found his voice, Lana spoke.

"She stepped outside onto the porch. "We'll just be a minute," she told Whitney. He reluctantly went back inside the house.

"Are you and Whitney back together?" Clark asked, afraid of the answer.

Lana shook her head, but her face flushed pink. "No. He just came over to talk. He's had a lot of problems at home lately. And we are still friends."

Clark nodded. "Well, I guess I'll see you around then."

Lana attempted a smile, but Clark could tell that she thought she let him down in some way.

"Look, I know you're a good person, and that you're trying to help him out," Clark said, trying to reassure her. "It's just that I'm not sure where we stand."

It was obvious that Lana was anxious to end the conversation. "I'll call you later, Clark. I have to get to work."

Clark turned around, shoved his hands in his pockets and walked slowly back toward his house. When he got to the edge of his property, he turned around and headed for the Ross house, super-speed. He needed to talk to someone, and Pete, in his endless pursuit of the perfect girl, would be the ideal sounding board.

"Hi, Clark, what are you doing here?" Mrs. Ross said, opening the door.

"Just wanted to see if Pete would hang out for a bit," he said.

"He's in his room," Mrs. Ross said, gesturing toward the staircase.

Clark headed upstairs to the end of the hall. Pete had his back to the door, ironing a shirt. He was wearing freshly pressed pants and a white ribbed tank top. He turned around when he heard Clark's footfalls.

"Hey, Clark!" He laid the iron on its side. "What's up, man? Want more fashion advice?"

"Just wanted to hang out," Clark said. He flopped down on Pete's hastily made bed.

"Well, we're going to have to make this quick," Pete said. "I've got a date with Mary Anne Yeager in an hour. And I know you're a busy guy this summer. Two girls on your jock," he added.

"Two girls? What are you talking about?"

"I heard about you, Lana, Chloe and the Latin lover at the Talon last night. I have my sources."

"What did you hear?" Clark asked.

"That Lana and Chloe were both trying to monopolize your attention, and the poor Latin guy was grasping at straws." Pete hung up his shirt and unplugged the iron from the wall.

"Really?" Clark was surprised. "Chloe really seemed into the guy, but I think she's already lost interest. She's coming over later. Personally, I don't see her pursuing it. The guy's going to college in the fall all the way in New York."

Pete folded the ironing board and looked at Clark. "Why does it matter to you so much?"

Clark thought for a moment. "Because Chloe's my friend," he said slowly. "And I don't want her getting mixed up with some guy who isn't good for her."

"Look, I'm Chloe's friend, too, but she can take care of herself. We both know that. And yet you always have a problem with guys she dates. Besides, what's going on between you and Lana? I heard from Trevor Chappell that Whitney broke it off with her."

"Yeah, he did. But he was at her house today."

Pete nodded knowingly. "Trevor said Whitney's still got it bad for Lana. And, you know, he has all those family problems going on."

"You think she still likes him, too?"

Pete shrugged. "I don't know Lana that well. I do know you, though, and I'm surprised that you're even contemplating it. I thought you'd be all over her now that she's single."

"She tried to kiss me."

"And you stopped her?" Pete nodded his head and smiled cryptically. "I definitely know what's going on."

Clark frowned. "What?"

"Chloe," Pete said definitively.

Clark stood up and looked at Pete. "What about Chloe?"

Pete chuckled. "Look, ever since you and Chloe have come back from Metropolis, you share these little knowing smiles and looks with each other. You think I don't notice, but I do. And the only reason why I wasn't jealous was because I thought, at last, those two are finally hooking up and I won't have to see them doing their pathetic little mating dance anymore. I mean, damn. Took you guys long enough. What the heck happened in Metropolis anyway?"

Clark shrugged. "Not much," he said nonchalantly.

"Yeah, maybe you're starting to realize what a great girl Chloe is," Pete said.

"If she's so great, why don't you go for her?"

"Because I've had my one and only date with Chloe, and that was enough."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that as much as she tried not to, we spent most of Homecoming talking about you. And I just don't have the patience for that. Apparently, Chloe's got much more patience with you and your Lana-centric dialogue."

"We didn't even talk about Lana when we were in Metropolis." As soon as the words left Clark's mouth, he realized the difference between Chloe in Smallville and Chloe in Metropolis. The pressure of Lana around every corner was lifted in Metropolis, and Clark saw Chloe for the easygoing, fun girl she was. The truth was that part of his mind had always wondered whether Chloe had a thing for him. She had dropped major hints, to be sure, but he was never sure if she were just joking. And shouldn't his mind be on Lana right now?

Before Clark could voice his confusion to Pete, the telephone rang. "I got it!" Pete's sister's voice echoed from down the hall. Then, "Peter, it's for you!"

Pete picked up the cordless phone from the dresser. Clark shook his head as he noticed the aftershave and ten different kinds of cologne that were lined up on top. Pete certainly had changed since last year.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Pete, can you talk for a minute?" It was Chloe's hyperactive voice coming through. Pete tried to hide a smile.

"Uh, I guess so."

"Have you talked to Clark? He went out with Lana last night, and Jorge and I saw them at the Talon."

"Yeah," Pete said vaguely. "It might have come up."

"So do you think they're dating or what?" Chloe exploded.

"I don't know," Pete said, wedging the phone between his ear and shoulder. "What do you think?" He picked up a bottle of cologne and sprayed it generously on himself.

"I think Lana's jerking his chain." Pete almost dropped the phone and his cologne at Chloe's choice of words.

"Why do you think that?" Clark looked at him with a bewildered expression on his face, and Pete turned his body so as not to face him.

"Because I'm in town right now, and Whitney just dropped her off at the Talon," Chloe said matter-of-factly.

"Oh, you know they're probably still friends. Besides, remember your declaration the other night?" Pete reminded her. "Independence and all that?"

"I'm just looking out for Clark," Chloe said defensively. "I'm going over to his house later."

"Good luck with that," Pete said hastily.

"Are you trying to get rid of me? What are you doing?"

"Just getting ready for my date."

"You and Laura Horton were just Rollerblading in the park this morning, and you're going on another date tonight?"

"Yup. I'm going out with Mary Anne Yeager. The Pete is in high demand this summer," he said, smiling.

"How are you able to afford all these dates?"

"Laura and I had our own Rollerblades, and I'm bringing a picnic to Mary Anne. All low-budget yet romantic dates. I worked it out. I read about it in Maxim magazine."

Pete could almost hear Chloe's eyes rolling at the mention of the magazine. "Fine. I know better than to try to get you to pay attention to me when there are other women out there that you actually think of as women. Bye."

"Bye." Pete hung up and turned around.

"That was Chloe, wasn't it?"

Pete shrugged. "Uh, nah, that was … Willie Jones. We're playing ball tomorrow."

"If there's one thing you can't do, it's lie," Clark said with a sly smile, standing up. "And if there's one thing Chloe can't do, it's talk below sonic boom levels."

"Where are you going?"

"The loudmouth is coming over soon," he said.

"And what are you going to tell her? Aren't you going with a game plan?"

Clark shrugged. "We'll just talk."

"If you're going into the game without a plan, you're just asking for defeat," Pete said, standing up alongside him.

"It's not a tennis match," Clark said, sitting back down. "Chloe and I have known each other for a long time. I tell her everything."

"Game, set, match?" Pete asked. "I don't think so, man. You can't just be spontaneous with a girl's feelings. Especially Chloe's."

"Well, maybe she's not as interested as you think," Clark pointed out.

"Chloe's a busy girl. If she wasn't interested, she wouldn't be coming over right now."

Clark frowned, but he didn't say anything.

***

In her bedroom Chloe flopped down on her bed, picked up her phone, hesitated, and put it back down again. She leaned back against the headboard.

"When did I become such a teenage girl?" she muttered incredulously.

Honestly, she was not looking forward to an afternoon laden with conversation about Smallville's resident fairy princess.

"Mail call!" Gabe Sullivan bellowed cheerfully as he strode through the open door and dropped a package on Chloe's bed.

The bulky manila envelope was postmarked Metropolis. Her name was handwritten carefully in familiar calligraphic penmanship. Chloe ripped it open hurriedly and spilled the contents on her bed.

Pictures of the two weeks she and Clark had spent in Metropolis. And a note from her grandparents.

Dear Chloe,

We got the pictures developed. You must teach us how to use the new digital camera your dad gave us when you come back at the end of the summer. We don't know how to put the pictures in the computer. We can view them on the little screen on the back though. Give us a call.

We both love Clark. We hope you bring him back to visit again. And bring your other friend Pete next time as well.

Love,

Nana and Gramps

Chloe laughed when she read the comment about the digital camera.

She flipped casually through the pictures. She and Clark floating on lounges in the pool. A picture of her and Clark standing under the Daily Planet globe. A picture of Clark wearing a Metropolis Tornadoes cap outside LuthorCorp Metro Stadium when they went to the baseball game.

Clark lounging on the pink bedspread in her room.

Chloe giggled at this particular image. Clark was going through one of her Daily Planet scrapbooks, laying on his side, his chin propped up by his left hand and his right hand turning the pages of Chloe's scrapbook. He was wearing his red pajama bottoms and a blue T-shirt.

He was sitting in Chloe's room, which she alternately called "Cotton Candy Heaven" and "Pepto Bismol Playhouse" because of the abundance of the color pink. And there was this very masculine, tall boy in the midst of it with a very serious look on his face. The photo was unintentionally hilarious.

They had had fun in Metropolis. Chloe longed for those two weeks again.

She collected the pictures in a pile and reached for the phone.

"Hello?" Mrs. Kent answered the phone. Good. This would be easier to say to her than to Clark.

"Hi, Mrs. Kent. It's Chloe. Could you tell Clark that I won't be making it over there this afternoon?"

"Sure, Chloe. Do you want to call back? He should be home any minute now."

"I really have to go. If you could just pass along the message …"

"Of course."

Chloe put the phone back on the receiver and resolved to keep Clark Kent out of her mind.

***

Clark didn't have time to think, what with the summer harvest. Well, he shouldn't have. But while working every day there was plenty of time to think. Any guy would be killing to be in his place, caught between two beautiful, intelligent girls like Lana Lang and Chloe Sullivan.

On Thursday evening as he was clearing the dinner table, there was a knock at the screen door. Clark looked up. It was Lana.

"Hi, do you have a minute?" she said nervously.

Clark looked at his father. He nodded. "I'll finish clearing," Jonathan said.

Clark and Lana walked silently in the semi-darkness into the barn and up to the loft. They didn't speak. Lana sat on the couch and Clark stood at the window, fidgeting with the telescope. The sun had not fully set, and there were no stars yet.

It was a long time before anyone said anything.

"I wanted to wait awhile before I talked to you," Lana finally said. "I wanted to know what I was going to say."

Clark looked over at her, and he could only see the back of her head, and it was bowed.

He walked over and sat down next to her. "And?" he said as gently as he could.

Lana took a deep breath. "I made a huge mistake the other night. I mistook your niceness and kind words for romance, and that was wrong, especially after what I had said the night before. I wanted someone to be there for me, to solve every problem I have, and there you are, but … now I know that I need to learn to take care of myself." She looked at him with determination in her tear-filled eyes. "I need to learn how to stand on my own two feet without someone bailing me out all the time or distracting me from my problems."

Clark nodded.

"I'm really sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable," she continued. She put her hand on Clark's. "And I'm sorry you had to see Whitney at my house like that. It looked really bad. I should have been upfront with you. Whitney and I are still friends. We were together for a long time, and it's not a bond I can break easily."

"I understand, Lana," Clark said. "I'm glad you came over and got everything sorted out." He put his arm around her in a half-hug, and she squeezed him back.

"I'm glad we've become such good friends," she whispered. "And I hope you know that you can always depend on me."

Clark looked at her. He nodded without hesitation. Lana was a good friend. She saw all the good qualities in him and never hesitated to point them out when he was insecure or feeling down on himself. Even before they got to know each other, Lana represented everything Clark wanted to be and knew he could be. She was his shining hope.

And yet this admission of hers, that she was searching for something within herself that she could not yet articulate, put her in a new light in Clark's eyes. Lana Lang was not perfect as he had made her out to be; she pasted on a smile for the public, and even to close friends like Clark she guarded her imperfections and deepest insecurities.

Instead of seeing the golden girl he had admired from afar for so many years, tonight Clark saw in Lana a broken girl who was struggling with the ghosts of her past. Clark couldn't chase those ghosts away for her; Lana had to deal with them in her own way and on her own time. In the past year he had seen the ghosts cast shadows on her face, but this summer and the changes that had occurred in both of their lives forced them to deal with it head on.

And it also made Clark realize that what he had been admiring in Lana was a mirror of what he wanted to be: a normal human being. And seeing her like this allowed Clark to see that life was not easier for others; in fact, Lana carried the burdens of her past just as heavily as Clark carried his secret of his powers and origins.

It was a humbling realization that planted Clark's feet firmly on the ground.

That night when Clark walked Lana home, he thought about a smiling face with blonde hair, and a voice that always told him the truth, no matter how painful, embarrassing or humanizing. While Lana reflected all of Clark's potential and what he aspired to be, Chloe represented everything he was, superpowers and all.

"You're a true friend, Clark," Lana said before going inside her house.

When she had closed the door behind her, he shook his head. A true friend wouldn't neglect Chloe, or take for granted the kind of person she was.

He would remedy that tomorrow.

***

To be continued …

Chapter 5: "Friendship Takes a Holiday" – Chloe avoids Clark, and more movie watching. And more Pete!