Part IV.
Whitney had long ago discovered he genuinely liked the sound of Lana's laughter on the heels of one of his admittedly terrible jokes. She was the only one who ever laughed at them, really, and it was comforting somehow... She was relaxing to him, when they were just passing some alone-time together, not having to say much in order to feel right with each other. She made him feel... peaceful. Which actually wasn't so good right now, as he was already naturally half asleep. Relaxed is not where he needed to be.
"So, what do you want to do after school today?" Lana asked, the remains of a giggle still in her voice. "I still haven't seen *Lord of the Rings*, and--"
"Ohhh, Lana, I can't." And he yawned for good measure.
"Aww, why not?" She batted her eyelashes playfully, and he grinned briefly in spite of himself. "What's keeping you?"
"It's this--stupid school newspaper thing," he groused. "I have to go type it up on a computer in the Torch offices to turn it in tomorrow. It's going to take me for *ever* since ... well, you've seen me type. And, she said it has to be done on a Mac, and the school's computer lab has... uh... incompatible software."
Lana giggled some more. "Sounds like Greek to me!"
"Yeah, well, I'm still afraid I'm going to do something wrong and blow the computer up"--and he was rewarded with yet another appreciative giggle from her --"but even if I finish that fast, I have to head over to the store to help out there til it closes, then I have like a truckload of chemistry homework--"
"Come over and I'll help you with that," Lana told him. He shook his head slowly.
"It's going to be late, Lana." He frowned, and she frowned back in empathy. "Like, maybe past eleven."
"Ohhh... Nell won't be too crazy about that."
"I know. Thanks, though, that's really sweet of you." He squeezed her shoulder gently, and they locked eyes, both pensive, as she fingered the collar of his letterman jacket.
"You know, Whitney, I didn't say this before, but I just wanted you to know I am so proud of you."
He smirked, a little sheepish. "You are, huh?"
"Yeah, I am." She leaned in, pressing herself with charming naiveté against him. "You're holding up incredibly well with all the added pressures of your dad being sick, and frankly, you've done a surprisingly minimal amount of complaining about this whole joining-the-newspaper thing."
"Yeah, well, I didn't have much of a choice on that last one," he admitted. "The only thing that sucks is that I figured I'd only have to do this `community service' thing until football season was over, but that editor--she... she *browbeat* me into agreeing to stay on the whole semester or else the whole thing was off."
"Really!" Lana's eyebrows shot up, and she laughed again. "Well, Chloe can be pret-ty persuasive."
"Chloe can be really *annoying*, you mean," Whitney muttered.
"I dunno, I think I actually really like her," Lana shrugged. "We've hung out a few times, and I think she's really nice, and she has this-- amazing mind. Like, she puts ideas together really fast, comes up with things you'd never normally think of. It's kinda cool."
"Yeah. Uh. Real cool."
Her jaw dropped in amusement. "Whitney! Stop it, seriously, Chloe is a really good person," Lana insisted.
"I'm just kidding around," he admitted. "I think she's all right."
She clicked her tongue at him, chiding. "She's a really good friend, too, and Pete Ross and Clark really--"
But her words were cut off by the sound of his muted groan.
Lana made a face, and said, "Sorry, I know, sore subject with you."
"Kent is such a weezer," Whitney scoffed. "The fact that Chloe Sullivan is his best groupie or something doesn't exactly make me think more of her."
She sighed tensely, reaching for the safest, most dissipating segue. "I just meant she does a lot of really nice things for her friends all the time. Plus she is REALLY dedicated to that paper."
A feigned-dejected sigh. "Do you mind? I'm trying to hate her here."
Lana laughed again, and smacked him playfully on the shoulder. "You're in a goofy mood today."
"I'm *really* not," he said, dejected. "That's sleep deprivation talking. I'm grouchy as hell. And totally exhausted."
"I know." Her brow knitted in genuine worry. "Maybe it's a really good thing you have this newspaper thing now. It's not that time consuming, and it's a good way to get your mind off all your problems and pressures."
He laughed a little and shook his head, but then considered her words. "Yeah, maybe," he admitted. "She's given me kind of lame assignments so far, you know, I guess to make sure I wouldn't embarrass her in front of the whole school. I don't think it's really my thing, but... I don't think I stink either. Exactly."
Lana burst out laughing and gave his arm an affectionate squeeze. "You don't stink. Honest! C'mon, I'll walk with you to the Torch offices and say hi to Chloe."
Whitney nodded, and slipped his arm around her shoulder, feeling vaguely content.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
"Damn, if this printer breaks down one more time, I'm gonna have to change the focus of my editorial protests," Pete muttered, banging the printer ineffectually. "Forget the state of our school books--they should be ashamed of giving us such GARBAGE to work with." The paper light still blinked ominously at him, and he growled a few more choice words as Chloe looked on, dismayed.
"I don't get it. It says there's no paper, but I don't know about you, but I'm seeing paper."
"There's definitely paper," Pete agreed. "I don't know what we're doing wrong--maybe the light's just busted?" He contemplated the printer once more and hit the button next to the flashing red button once more. For an instant, he and Chloe were rewarded with the high-pitched whir of the printer gearing up, but just as readily, it froze, only to flash its red light at them accusatorily. Pete and Chloe seemed to deflate, and Pete leaned over, his face inches from the printer.
"You have lost your damn mind, Mr. Epson!" Pete shouted at it quite sternly.
"Um... did we come at a bad time?" Lana's head was peeking around the door of the Torch's offices, a warm smile on her face. "Interrupting something, maybe?"
Chloe grinned back. "We were just, um... setting this here printer straight."
"I hope you showed it who's boss," Lana laughed, and slid into the room, Whitney practically a shadow behind her.
Chloe blinked. "Wow, you look like crap, Fordman."
"Thanks, nice to see you too," he growled, and threw Lana a meaningful look. Lana placed her hand on his chest and gave Chloe a tentative smile.
"Whitney's had a rough day," she explained hurriedly. "I'm gonna split in a few minutes, but can I bend your ear outside for a second, Chloe?"
Chloe sighed. She really liked Lana--how could you not? The girl was as harmless as a fly and genuine and friendly, and she'd been a steadfast and unexpected ally in recent weeks to her. But she had definitely taken some serious getting used to with the prim, quiet way that the dark-haired girl was always waltzing into every situation and... well... intruding. Just a few weeks earlier, Lana had had some miff going on with Clark, and had barged--literally barged--into Chloe's office demanding that Chloe and Pete leave so that she could rant in full privacy at Clark. Why, the very thought of having Clark step outside with her and allowing Chloe and Pete to continue working hadn't even crossed Lana's pretty little head.
In retrospect, Chloe thought, as she followed Lana into the hallway wearily, Pete had been a really great sport about listening to Chloe fume for twenty straight minutes after they'd left Lana and Clark in the office.
"What's up?" Chloe asked. Lana shut the door behind her quietly, catching a glimpse of Pete awkwardly showing Whitney how to pull up the right computer program.
Lana sighed, and fixed her wide, watery, Precious Moments figurine eyes on Chloe. "I just really wanted to thank you for doing this for Whitney," Lana breathed, keeping her voice low. "He's usually too proud to really admit when he needs help, and it was really hard for him to come to you, knowing you're Clark's friend, and--you've just been so nice about it. It means a lot to me, really it does."
And this had to do with Lana how, exactly? Chloe wondered... but instead, she gave a hesitant smile. "Well... sure, no problem, Lana. I needed a sports editor, anyway, and he's truthfully doing a pretty decent job."
"It's just that I know that none of you are all that crazy about Whitney for the way he treated Clark at the beginning of the semester," Lana went on, barely listening. "It was just incredibly generous and... I dunno... really gracious of you to help him out when things are going so badly for him."
"Not a problem," Chloe nodded in affirmation. "I'm sure things will lighten up for him next week, though, with football season being over."
"I'm kind of worried things *won't* lighten up," Lana confessed. "His dad's asking him to take on more and more responsibility at the store--"
"Well, can't he just say no?" Chloe asked innocently. "How's he going to get any schoolwork done, much less write for my paper?"
"He could say no, but really, Whitney's got a big heart--don't look at me like that, he really does! -- so he feels bad, not knowing when or if his dad is going to recover, and--"
"Recover? Wait, is his dad sick or something?"
Lana gaped at Chloe, a pink blush spreading across her cheeks. "Oh, my God, you didn't know?"
"Know what?"
"I'm--I'm sorry, I didn't mean to tell you," Lana stammered. "I thought you knew, oh, God--"
"It's OK, Lana, I won't say anything," Chloe rushed to tell her. "But I didn't realize Whitney's dad was sick. Is he going to be OK?"
"They don't know yet," Lana said, lowering her voice even more. "I'm sorry, Chloe, you know I'm not the kind of person to gossip--"
"Yes, I know, Lana," Chloe said, and forced a grin. "You never gossip. Don't worry. Your secret's safe with me."
"They think he's got some kind of chronic heart disease," Lana went on, earnest sorrow draped across her features. "He's had high blood pressure for years, you know, he's kind of this major type-A personality, and he's expecting Whitney to take over for him as much as possible at the store while he's out of commission, which I think is totally unfair."
"It is," Chloe agreed. "I've seen that store--it's huge. Don't they have managers or someone else? That's just strange."
Lana shifted uncomfortably, realizing she was revealing way more than she should have... but Chloe, she decided almost on the fly, was her friend. "Whitney's dad has always made a big deal about how it's a family business, you know? He kind of expects Whitney to take over the store when he's out of college. So I guess they're just expecting him to fill in now as much as he can..."
"That's crazy!" Chloe exclaimed, then looked abashed. "Uh.. I mean. No offense."
Lana smiled at her. "It's OK. It really is pretty crazy. I think this newspaper thing has been a way to get his mind off it all these past few weeks." She sighed, forlorn. "I wish I could relate and help him more, but my parents were killed when I was little--" Chloe braced herself for yet another retelling of this story, but thankfully it didn't come this once.
"So I can't really relate to what it's like to watch your parent get sick and know that he could go at any moment," Lana finished, much to Chloe's relief. "I didn't mean to let it slip about his dad, but--he really does have a lot on his mind, and to tell you the truth... I think he's kind of enjoying this newspaper thing." She giggled at her own words, and Chloe's eyebrows inched upwards, pleased.
"Wow. That's--I'm glad to hear that," she said sincerely. "He really is doing a pretty decent job, as much as I hate to admit it."
Lana's grin widened in conspiratorial excitement. "Well, I read your paper every week--he really is!"
"I'm glad you told me about his dad," Chloe added. "I've been giving him kind of a hard time. I think. Maybe I'll go a little easier on him."
"It's OK, sometimes he needs that." Lana patted Chloe's arm reassuringly. "Listen, I have to go, got tons of homework --"
"Gotcha," Chloe cracked a crooked smile at her. "See you later."
"Take care!"
Lana slowly vanished in the distance of the hallway, until finally slipping out of the main exit door. Chloe watched her leave, wondering why it was that she couldn't bring herself to hate her.
It's not like she didn't have plenty of justification. Lana had qualities Chloe had never wanted to possess herself, until the day came when she realized that Clark had fallen like cement through water for every single one of those qualities: grace, soft spoken femininity, subtleness, coquettishness... not to mention that obviously effective damsel-in-distress vibe. It wasn't like Chloe wanted to be Lana; she liked herself fine... she just sort of wished other people would like her just as much.
Lana had always been a good friend to her, though, and she didn't like how... ugly she felt inside when she thought that way about Lana. After all, it wasn't Lana's fault that the guy of Chloe's dreams wasn't noticing her. If Lana were to move to Alaska tomorrow, it wouldn't make Clark like her any more than he already did.
She sighed, despondent, and braved the Torch office once more...
Only to find a bleary eyed jock rubbing his eyesockets wearily while Pete repeated the instructions for what looked like the fourth or fifth time. She could always tell when Pete was getting impatient, and she imagined it wouldn't take much with the Golden Boy over there. Whitney just nodded and "Mmmm"'ed in assent, clearly not understanding a word of it.
"Then you just cut and paste the table--"
"How do I do that?"
Chloe sighed audibly. "Look, Fordman, why don't you just go home?"
Whitney stared at her in vague disbelief. "What? Go home? I have to type up this--"
"It's cool, it's short," Chloe shrugged. "I'll do it. You look like hell. Go home and get some sleep or something."
He gave a brief, dry laugh, knowing that wasn't going to happen. "Well, if you're sure..."
"I'm sure."
"And you're not gonna rag on me about it next week."
"No ragging, I promise. Now get the hell out of my office, `cause Christmas comes only once a year." And she gave him her sweetest smile.
He opened his mouth to say something, but changed his mind. "Thanks," he said simply, a question still in his eyes as he grabbed his things and left.
Pete waited til he was out of earshot to turn to Chloe filled to the brim with incredulity: "Do my eyes and ears deceive me? Did you just cut Whitney Fordman a break?"
"Oh, God, I did, didn't I?"
"You did, indeed."
"I don't know what came over me," Chloe sighed, and plopped down in front of her Mac.
"I couldn't venture a guess," Pete snorted.
"Rest assured it won't be happening again." She rubbed her eye and stared at the screen, not seeing anything on it.
"So... what did Lana have to say?"
"None of your business, nosy!" And she elbowed him in the arm playfully. "You're just going to run and tell Clark. I know how you guys operate."
Pete pretended to act wounded, as though an arrow had gone straight through his heart, but then he laughed. "A guy's gotta take his breaks where they come."
"Like I need to hear this."
Pete's grin immediately faded. "I'm sorry, I forgot."
"About my feelings?" Chloe frowned, fingering the keyboard. "Yeah you and Clark have been making that a habit."
"I don't think I need to tell you that I think that whole scene is kind of hopeless," Pete said gently. "The boy has got it bad. All he ever thinks about is--"
"I know that," she said sharply. "I realize that, really. I really don't know what's wrong with me."
"Look, Chloe, you're a good looking girl, you know that?" Pete said, and she cocked an affectionate smile at him. "You are, really. And you're smart and damn cool. There's no reason why you don't have a million guys banging down your door. You just need to expand your social circles. That way you can ease your way out of this Clark fixation painlessly."
"Aggggh."
"Seriously. You've got to do like I do."
She blinked innocently at him. "Spend my weekends surfing porn on the Internet?" And she ducked an eraser aimed straight for her head.
"I *meant* date around!" he exclaimed. "We're too young to settle down or get hung up on just one person. You ought to go out with a bunch of different guys. Nothing serious, just go out and have a little fun. Or at least hang out with other people so you meet other guys. Eventually our Mr. Kent will just be a hazy, fond memory."
She rolled her eyes at him. "Look, I appreciate the advice, but--"
"Yeah, I know, you prefer to wallow."
"I am *so* not wallowing."
"You so are."
She gave him her most withering playful glare, but he was nonplussed.
"It's obviously affecting your judgment since you were just seriously nice to Whitney Fordman, who is, in case you haven't heard, an asshole."
"I've heard," she said, and nodded weakly. "You know what-- you're right. He better have appreciated that, because I can't think of any good reason why he should get any more breaks. I am so sick of people at this school thinking that just because they're beautiful, they deserve--"
"Whoa, you think Whitney Fordman is beautiful?!" Pete asked, aghast.
She paused, and closed her mouth mid-sentence in dread realization. "I have eyes," she said, a note of defensiveness creeping into her tone. "Anyway it doesn't mean he's entitled to any more special favors than the rest of us. I just... um... got overtaken by the Compassion Fairy for a second there. But no more; from this day forward, I put my foot down."
"Riiiiiight," Pete drawled sarcastically. "Now let's get cracking, Ms Spine of Steel... you have an article you have to type up for a `beautiful' jock."
"Do you *mind*?"
Pete snickered and shook his head as she started typing. He went back to work on the printer, murmuring, "Hopless. Ju-u-ust hopeless."
"How would you like to be headless?"
"Uh.... I'mma start on the front page layout."
"Best idea I've heard all day."
++++++++++++++++
Author's notes: Thanks to Cyb on the TelevisionWithoutPity.com boards for giving me the Precious Moments figurine image of Lana. Hee. Also, I reference the articles that "Pete" has been writing on the SmallvilleTorch.com web site about the dilapidated state of their school books.
Also, the first paragraph is a shout-out to an article where Eric Johnson (Whitney) confesses that Kristin Kreuk (Lana) thinks his jokes are terrible. Hehehe.
Whitney had long ago discovered he genuinely liked the sound of Lana's laughter on the heels of one of his admittedly terrible jokes. She was the only one who ever laughed at them, really, and it was comforting somehow... She was relaxing to him, when they were just passing some alone-time together, not having to say much in order to feel right with each other. She made him feel... peaceful. Which actually wasn't so good right now, as he was already naturally half asleep. Relaxed is not where he needed to be.
"So, what do you want to do after school today?" Lana asked, the remains of a giggle still in her voice. "I still haven't seen *Lord of the Rings*, and--"
"Ohhh, Lana, I can't." And he yawned for good measure.
"Aww, why not?" She batted her eyelashes playfully, and he grinned briefly in spite of himself. "What's keeping you?"
"It's this--stupid school newspaper thing," he groused. "I have to go type it up on a computer in the Torch offices to turn it in tomorrow. It's going to take me for *ever* since ... well, you've seen me type. And, she said it has to be done on a Mac, and the school's computer lab has... uh... incompatible software."
Lana giggled some more. "Sounds like Greek to me!"
"Yeah, well, I'm still afraid I'm going to do something wrong and blow the computer up"--and he was rewarded with yet another appreciative giggle from her --"but even if I finish that fast, I have to head over to the store to help out there til it closes, then I have like a truckload of chemistry homework--"
"Come over and I'll help you with that," Lana told him. He shook his head slowly.
"It's going to be late, Lana." He frowned, and she frowned back in empathy. "Like, maybe past eleven."
"Ohhh... Nell won't be too crazy about that."
"I know. Thanks, though, that's really sweet of you." He squeezed her shoulder gently, and they locked eyes, both pensive, as she fingered the collar of his letterman jacket.
"You know, Whitney, I didn't say this before, but I just wanted you to know I am so proud of you."
He smirked, a little sheepish. "You are, huh?"
"Yeah, I am." She leaned in, pressing herself with charming naiveté against him. "You're holding up incredibly well with all the added pressures of your dad being sick, and frankly, you've done a surprisingly minimal amount of complaining about this whole joining-the-newspaper thing."
"Yeah, well, I didn't have much of a choice on that last one," he admitted. "The only thing that sucks is that I figured I'd only have to do this `community service' thing until football season was over, but that editor--she... she *browbeat* me into agreeing to stay on the whole semester or else the whole thing was off."
"Really!" Lana's eyebrows shot up, and she laughed again. "Well, Chloe can be pret-ty persuasive."
"Chloe can be really *annoying*, you mean," Whitney muttered.
"I dunno, I think I actually really like her," Lana shrugged. "We've hung out a few times, and I think she's really nice, and she has this-- amazing mind. Like, she puts ideas together really fast, comes up with things you'd never normally think of. It's kinda cool."
"Yeah. Uh. Real cool."
Her jaw dropped in amusement. "Whitney! Stop it, seriously, Chloe is a really good person," Lana insisted.
"I'm just kidding around," he admitted. "I think she's all right."
She clicked her tongue at him, chiding. "She's a really good friend, too, and Pete Ross and Clark really--"
But her words were cut off by the sound of his muted groan.
Lana made a face, and said, "Sorry, I know, sore subject with you."
"Kent is such a weezer," Whitney scoffed. "The fact that Chloe Sullivan is his best groupie or something doesn't exactly make me think more of her."
She sighed tensely, reaching for the safest, most dissipating segue. "I just meant she does a lot of really nice things for her friends all the time. Plus she is REALLY dedicated to that paper."
A feigned-dejected sigh. "Do you mind? I'm trying to hate her here."
Lana laughed again, and smacked him playfully on the shoulder. "You're in a goofy mood today."
"I'm *really* not," he said, dejected. "That's sleep deprivation talking. I'm grouchy as hell. And totally exhausted."
"I know." Her brow knitted in genuine worry. "Maybe it's a really good thing you have this newspaper thing now. It's not that time consuming, and it's a good way to get your mind off all your problems and pressures."
He laughed a little and shook his head, but then considered her words. "Yeah, maybe," he admitted. "She's given me kind of lame assignments so far, you know, I guess to make sure I wouldn't embarrass her in front of the whole school. I don't think it's really my thing, but... I don't think I stink either. Exactly."
Lana burst out laughing and gave his arm an affectionate squeeze. "You don't stink. Honest! C'mon, I'll walk with you to the Torch offices and say hi to Chloe."
Whitney nodded, and slipped his arm around her shoulder, feeling vaguely content.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
"Damn, if this printer breaks down one more time, I'm gonna have to change the focus of my editorial protests," Pete muttered, banging the printer ineffectually. "Forget the state of our school books--they should be ashamed of giving us such GARBAGE to work with." The paper light still blinked ominously at him, and he growled a few more choice words as Chloe looked on, dismayed.
"I don't get it. It says there's no paper, but I don't know about you, but I'm seeing paper."
"There's definitely paper," Pete agreed. "I don't know what we're doing wrong--maybe the light's just busted?" He contemplated the printer once more and hit the button next to the flashing red button once more. For an instant, he and Chloe were rewarded with the high-pitched whir of the printer gearing up, but just as readily, it froze, only to flash its red light at them accusatorily. Pete and Chloe seemed to deflate, and Pete leaned over, his face inches from the printer.
"You have lost your damn mind, Mr. Epson!" Pete shouted at it quite sternly.
"Um... did we come at a bad time?" Lana's head was peeking around the door of the Torch's offices, a warm smile on her face. "Interrupting something, maybe?"
Chloe grinned back. "We were just, um... setting this here printer straight."
"I hope you showed it who's boss," Lana laughed, and slid into the room, Whitney practically a shadow behind her.
Chloe blinked. "Wow, you look like crap, Fordman."
"Thanks, nice to see you too," he growled, and threw Lana a meaningful look. Lana placed her hand on his chest and gave Chloe a tentative smile.
"Whitney's had a rough day," she explained hurriedly. "I'm gonna split in a few minutes, but can I bend your ear outside for a second, Chloe?"
Chloe sighed. She really liked Lana--how could you not? The girl was as harmless as a fly and genuine and friendly, and she'd been a steadfast and unexpected ally in recent weeks to her. But she had definitely taken some serious getting used to with the prim, quiet way that the dark-haired girl was always waltzing into every situation and... well... intruding. Just a few weeks earlier, Lana had had some miff going on with Clark, and had barged--literally barged--into Chloe's office demanding that Chloe and Pete leave so that she could rant in full privacy at Clark. Why, the very thought of having Clark step outside with her and allowing Chloe and Pete to continue working hadn't even crossed Lana's pretty little head.
In retrospect, Chloe thought, as she followed Lana into the hallway wearily, Pete had been a really great sport about listening to Chloe fume for twenty straight minutes after they'd left Lana and Clark in the office.
"What's up?" Chloe asked. Lana shut the door behind her quietly, catching a glimpse of Pete awkwardly showing Whitney how to pull up the right computer program.
Lana sighed, and fixed her wide, watery, Precious Moments figurine eyes on Chloe. "I just really wanted to thank you for doing this for Whitney," Lana breathed, keeping her voice low. "He's usually too proud to really admit when he needs help, and it was really hard for him to come to you, knowing you're Clark's friend, and--you've just been so nice about it. It means a lot to me, really it does."
And this had to do with Lana how, exactly? Chloe wondered... but instead, she gave a hesitant smile. "Well... sure, no problem, Lana. I needed a sports editor, anyway, and he's truthfully doing a pretty decent job."
"It's just that I know that none of you are all that crazy about Whitney for the way he treated Clark at the beginning of the semester," Lana went on, barely listening. "It was just incredibly generous and... I dunno... really gracious of you to help him out when things are going so badly for him."
"Not a problem," Chloe nodded in affirmation. "I'm sure things will lighten up for him next week, though, with football season being over."
"I'm kind of worried things *won't* lighten up," Lana confessed. "His dad's asking him to take on more and more responsibility at the store--"
"Well, can't he just say no?" Chloe asked innocently. "How's he going to get any schoolwork done, much less write for my paper?"
"He could say no, but really, Whitney's got a big heart--don't look at me like that, he really does! -- so he feels bad, not knowing when or if his dad is going to recover, and--"
"Recover? Wait, is his dad sick or something?"
Lana gaped at Chloe, a pink blush spreading across her cheeks. "Oh, my God, you didn't know?"
"Know what?"
"I'm--I'm sorry, I didn't mean to tell you," Lana stammered. "I thought you knew, oh, God--"
"It's OK, Lana, I won't say anything," Chloe rushed to tell her. "But I didn't realize Whitney's dad was sick. Is he going to be OK?"
"They don't know yet," Lana said, lowering her voice even more. "I'm sorry, Chloe, you know I'm not the kind of person to gossip--"
"Yes, I know, Lana," Chloe said, and forced a grin. "You never gossip. Don't worry. Your secret's safe with me."
"They think he's got some kind of chronic heart disease," Lana went on, earnest sorrow draped across her features. "He's had high blood pressure for years, you know, he's kind of this major type-A personality, and he's expecting Whitney to take over for him as much as possible at the store while he's out of commission, which I think is totally unfair."
"It is," Chloe agreed. "I've seen that store--it's huge. Don't they have managers or someone else? That's just strange."
Lana shifted uncomfortably, realizing she was revealing way more than she should have... but Chloe, she decided almost on the fly, was her friend. "Whitney's dad has always made a big deal about how it's a family business, you know? He kind of expects Whitney to take over the store when he's out of college. So I guess they're just expecting him to fill in now as much as he can..."
"That's crazy!" Chloe exclaimed, then looked abashed. "Uh.. I mean. No offense."
Lana smiled at her. "It's OK. It really is pretty crazy. I think this newspaper thing has been a way to get his mind off it all these past few weeks." She sighed, forlorn. "I wish I could relate and help him more, but my parents were killed when I was little--" Chloe braced herself for yet another retelling of this story, but thankfully it didn't come this once.
"So I can't really relate to what it's like to watch your parent get sick and know that he could go at any moment," Lana finished, much to Chloe's relief. "I didn't mean to let it slip about his dad, but--he really does have a lot on his mind, and to tell you the truth... I think he's kind of enjoying this newspaper thing." She giggled at her own words, and Chloe's eyebrows inched upwards, pleased.
"Wow. That's--I'm glad to hear that," she said sincerely. "He really is doing a pretty decent job, as much as I hate to admit it."
Lana's grin widened in conspiratorial excitement. "Well, I read your paper every week--he really is!"
"I'm glad you told me about his dad," Chloe added. "I've been giving him kind of a hard time. I think. Maybe I'll go a little easier on him."
"It's OK, sometimes he needs that." Lana patted Chloe's arm reassuringly. "Listen, I have to go, got tons of homework --"
"Gotcha," Chloe cracked a crooked smile at her. "See you later."
"Take care!"
Lana slowly vanished in the distance of the hallway, until finally slipping out of the main exit door. Chloe watched her leave, wondering why it was that she couldn't bring herself to hate her.
It's not like she didn't have plenty of justification. Lana had qualities Chloe had never wanted to possess herself, until the day came when she realized that Clark had fallen like cement through water for every single one of those qualities: grace, soft spoken femininity, subtleness, coquettishness... not to mention that obviously effective damsel-in-distress vibe. It wasn't like Chloe wanted to be Lana; she liked herself fine... she just sort of wished other people would like her just as much.
Lana had always been a good friend to her, though, and she didn't like how... ugly she felt inside when she thought that way about Lana. After all, it wasn't Lana's fault that the guy of Chloe's dreams wasn't noticing her. If Lana were to move to Alaska tomorrow, it wouldn't make Clark like her any more than he already did.
She sighed, despondent, and braved the Torch office once more...
Only to find a bleary eyed jock rubbing his eyesockets wearily while Pete repeated the instructions for what looked like the fourth or fifth time. She could always tell when Pete was getting impatient, and she imagined it wouldn't take much with the Golden Boy over there. Whitney just nodded and "Mmmm"'ed in assent, clearly not understanding a word of it.
"Then you just cut and paste the table--"
"How do I do that?"
Chloe sighed audibly. "Look, Fordman, why don't you just go home?"
Whitney stared at her in vague disbelief. "What? Go home? I have to type up this--"
"It's cool, it's short," Chloe shrugged. "I'll do it. You look like hell. Go home and get some sleep or something."
He gave a brief, dry laugh, knowing that wasn't going to happen. "Well, if you're sure..."
"I'm sure."
"And you're not gonna rag on me about it next week."
"No ragging, I promise. Now get the hell out of my office, `cause Christmas comes only once a year." And she gave him her sweetest smile.
He opened his mouth to say something, but changed his mind. "Thanks," he said simply, a question still in his eyes as he grabbed his things and left.
Pete waited til he was out of earshot to turn to Chloe filled to the brim with incredulity: "Do my eyes and ears deceive me? Did you just cut Whitney Fordman a break?"
"Oh, God, I did, didn't I?"
"You did, indeed."
"I don't know what came over me," Chloe sighed, and plopped down in front of her Mac.
"I couldn't venture a guess," Pete snorted.
"Rest assured it won't be happening again." She rubbed her eye and stared at the screen, not seeing anything on it.
"So... what did Lana have to say?"
"None of your business, nosy!" And she elbowed him in the arm playfully. "You're just going to run and tell Clark. I know how you guys operate."
Pete pretended to act wounded, as though an arrow had gone straight through his heart, but then he laughed. "A guy's gotta take his breaks where they come."
"Like I need to hear this."
Pete's grin immediately faded. "I'm sorry, I forgot."
"About my feelings?" Chloe frowned, fingering the keyboard. "Yeah you and Clark have been making that a habit."
"I don't think I need to tell you that I think that whole scene is kind of hopeless," Pete said gently. "The boy has got it bad. All he ever thinks about is--"
"I know that," she said sharply. "I realize that, really. I really don't know what's wrong with me."
"Look, Chloe, you're a good looking girl, you know that?" Pete said, and she cocked an affectionate smile at him. "You are, really. And you're smart and damn cool. There's no reason why you don't have a million guys banging down your door. You just need to expand your social circles. That way you can ease your way out of this Clark fixation painlessly."
"Aggggh."
"Seriously. You've got to do like I do."
She blinked innocently at him. "Spend my weekends surfing porn on the Internet?" And she ducked an eraser aimed straight for her head.
"I *meant* date around!" he exclaimed. "We're too young to settle down or get hung up on just one person. You ought to go out with a bunch of different guys. Nothing serious, just go out and have a little fun. Or at least hang out with other people so you meet other guys. Eventually our Mr. Kent will just be a hazy, fond memory."
She rolled her eyes at him. "Look, I appreciate the advice, but--"
"Yeah, I know, you prefer to wallow."
"I am *so* not wallowing."
"You so are."
She gave him her most withering playful glare, but he was nonplussed.
"It's obviously affecting your judgment since you were just seriously nice to Whitney Fordman, who is, in case you haven't heard, an asshole."
"I've heard," she said, and nodded weakly. "You know what-- you're right. He better have appreciated that, because I can't think of any good reason why he should get any more breaks. I am so sick of people at this school thinking that just because they're beautiful, they deserve--"
"Whoa, you think Whitney Fordman is beautiful?!" Pete asked, aghast.
She paused, and closed her mouth mid-sentence in dread realization. "I have eyes," she said, a note of defensiveness creeping into her tone. "Anyway it doesn't mean he's entitled to any more special favors than the rest of us. I just... um... got overtaken by the Compassion Fairy for a second there. But no more; from this day forward, I put my foot down."
"Riiiiiight," Pete drawled sarcastically. "Now let's get cracking, Ms Spine of Steel... you have an article you have to type up for a `beautiful' jock."
"Do you *mind*?"
Pete snickered and shook his head as she started typing. He went back to work on the printer, murmuring, "Hopless. Ju-u-ust hopeless."
"How would you like to be headless?"
"Uh.... I'mma start on the front page layout."
"Best idea I've heard all day."
++++++++++++++++
Author's notes: Thanks to Cyb on the TelevisionWithoutPity.com boards for giving me the Precious Moments figurine image of Lana. Hee. Also, I reference the articles that "Pete" has been writing on the SmallvilleTorch.com web site about the dilapidated state of their school books.
Also, the first paragraph is a shout-out to an article where Eric Johnson (Whitney) confesses that Kristin Kreuk (Lana) thinks his jokes are terrible. Hehehe.