XIII.

"What are you going to do?"

"I don't know, Clark. I just don't know." Hushed voices in a back corridor at school. The echo on weather-worn linoleum and plaster made her paranoid.

"But after last night—"

"We shared just one kiss, Clark. One single solitary kiss. It doesn't have to mean anything."

*Does it?*

He was biting back a thousand responses to her assertion, she could tell. He finally went with: "It doesn't have to *not*."

"I'm just really confused."

"I know, Lana."

"You're the best, you know that?"

A smile. "Nah, I'm just the guy trying to steal Whitney's girlfriend, remember?"

A smile from her that matched his ruefulness. "Yeah, well… consider me stolen." The confession turned his features into a picture of sheer hope, and she hastened to add, "I just… I'm not free to do what's in my heart here. Please understand that."

"I do."

She nodded, knowing he does, completely. "He's been so good to me, and… and I think he needs me now, more than he ever has before. I can't just walk away from that."

"What about what I need—what you need too? Doesn't that count for anything?"

"I just don't know. I don't know what to do. I don't want to hurt either of you." Terrible, grim silence; choking in quiet. She blinked away tears, and couldn't bear to see if he was doing the same. Then—

"I'll wait as long as you need. When you choose, I'll still be here. No matter how long it takes. I… I believe in you."

And it suddenly struck her that she could quite easily love this boy forever.



+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++



"Hey, I was hoping you'd be here."

Clark's voice made Chloe's typing immediately cease. She turned in her chair to face him with trepidation.

"Hey, Clark."

"Listen… did I catch you at a bad time? Because I can always come back…"

"Now's fine. What's up?" She asked, unflappable.

He seemed to collect his thoughts for a moment, and nodded to himself before beginning. "First of all, I wanted to say I'm really sorry for the way I talked to you at the food drive the other day."

"It's OK," Chloe shrugged. "I guess I didn't go about it as suavely as I could have."

"No, it's not OK. I don't think your paper is stupid, and for whatever it's worth, I don't think you've written anything that could ever be described as pointless."

Chloe smiled at him, still tired from the previous evening. "Thanks, Clark. Apology accepted."

Clark visibly relaxed. "I'm really glad. Thanks, Chloe." He thought for a moment. "The paper this morning was really great. You were right, anyway; you didn't make Lana look bad at all. You made it look like she was an innocent bystander. I liked the part where you said that if Lana had known about their history, she would have never worked with them. That was a really nice touch."

"I'd like to think it's true," Chloe said tonelessly, but her expression revealed a whole lot more.

Clark nodded again. "You're… a good friend, Chloe," he told her, a queer emphasis on the word "friend". Her eyes narrowed suspiciously at him for a moment, but then she gave him an exhausted smile.

"Thanks, Clark. Nice to know I'm appreciated."

"Definitely."

"So, if you don't mind, I have to—"

"Wait," Clark hurriedly added. "I just… if you don't mind my prying…"

"Uh-oh."

"Pete said you went to Metropolis with Whitney after the food drive?"

Oh, God, he just *had* to say that name. "Um. Yeah. Why?"

Clark faltered, clearly having been expecting a denial. "What's up with that?"

Chloe shrugged, trying her best not to look guilty. She hadn't told anyone what had happened between them, because she couldn't make heads or tails of it for herself. She hadn't spoken to Whitney either, except to exchange a handful of furtive glances as they passed each other in the hallways and a murmured greeting or two. "Just a spur of the moment decision, I guess. It was fun. We saw Lex there."

"Oh yeah? Small world," Clark mused. Then, mustering up his courage, he added, "Just… be careful around Whitney, OK?"

She grinned at his concern. "I think I can handle him."

"Chloe, the guy's a jerk, you know?"

"He can be, yeah," she conceded.

"I don't want him hurting you just to get on my nerves or something."

Chloe's face was the picture of bafflement as she sipped her cooling coffee. "You? I don't get it, Clark-- what's this got to do with you? I mean, has it occurred to you that maybe we might actually just get along?"

Yeah, she hadn't really thought he'd buy that. "Chloe, you don't have anything in common with the guy. I find that hard to believe."

"We have more in common than you might think," she muttered, but then added, much louder, "He's cool to talk to. He's funny!"

"Yeah, that's Whitney for you: a regular barrel of monkeys."

"Clark!"

"I'm just worried about you, Chloe." He put his hand on her arm, and she could only sigh.

"Thanks, Clark, I appreciate your concern, but really, everything's fine."

"OK. But if he tries anything, let me know and I'll let him have it."

Chloe very nearly spewed coffee through her nose. Sputtering, she added, "I'll be sure to do that, Clark."

"Good." Clark smiled at her affectionately. "I'll leave you to your work. I just wanted to make sure you were OK."

"Thanks, Clark," she said again. "Oh, and Clark?"

He turned to face her in the doorway.

She could do this. She could get the words out without sounding too rancorous. "How's Lana?"

Clark blinked. "Uh. She's fine. She feels bad about what happened, too, if that makes you feel any better. You should talk to her."

"I'll do that."

Clark flashed her one of his patent million-dollar grins before ducking out the door.

It was nothing, Chloe reminded herself as her thoughts began to stray to the image of kissing Whitney in his truck. People kiss all the time and it means nothing. By no means was she going to be masochistic enough to fall for *two* guys in love with Lana. She'd have to be crazy.

Except…

Except that when all was said and done, the truth was that Whitney was the ideal of what she was starting to suspect was… her type. She had to admit that for all her jeering and crowing at "jockstraps", on a purely primal level she was attracted by brawn and broad shoulders, bravado and swagger. But, in her own defense, it was only when she knew that something more lurked underneath. It was the contrast that she found intriguing: Tough on the outside, sensitive on the inside. She chalked it up to possibly too many Clint Eastwood films as a child. Damn her dad and his Dirty Harry fetish.

Because when Chloe mused over all her ill-conceived crushes this semester: Clark, Sean, Eric… there was definitely a pattern there. But she'd never considered looking at Whitney that way because she could have never guessed that there was anything underneath the arrogant gruffness except for possibly even more arrogance.

She knew differently now. But there was no way she was going to allow herself to think about Whitney one second longer than she absolutely had to. For all that had happened between them, and for all that they'd seen, Whitney and Lana hadn't broken up, Whitney hadn't attempted to talk to her… and she'd be damned if she was going to be a Lana back-up for one more guy.



++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++



"I'm glad you're not mad," Lana said later that evening as Whitney sank into the space on the couch beside her. She flipped on the TV and pressed PLAY on the remote control, watching the previews on the video for a few seconds.

"No, I'm not mad," Whitney said stiffly, not looking at her. "It's between you and—and Chloe." He glanced quickly at Lana to make sure she hadn't caught the way he had fumbled on the other girl's name.

Of course she hadn't. Then again, she hadn't mentioned Chloe all day, either.

"How was your dad feeling last night?" Lana prompted.

"He's stable, but feeling a little more like his old self, I guess."

"That's great, Whitney!"

He forced himself to smile feebly at her before turning back to the film she'd rented. Silently, he watched the movie's opening credits, and inwardly cringed as he saw that Lana had picked out yet another Julia Roberts film.

He brooded in silence for a few minutes, his knee bobbing impatiently near hers. Tapping on the couch's arm rest impatiently, he blurted out, "So what did you and Kent do after the food drive?"

Smooth, Fordman. Real smooth.

Lana paused, munching on popcorn, and gave a slow, measured answer. "Nothing. It took a while to finish up with the food drive, then I headed over to the Talon for a while and of course I ended up working a little… then Clark gave me a ride home."

"That's all?" Whitney said, trying his very best to sound as non-accusatory as possible.

"Yes, that's all," Lana answered. "Is everything all right, Whitney?"

"Yeah, everything's great," he said, almost bitter. "Just great."

"Well, that's… great."

"Yeah. Great."

Except that he could still smell almonds and newspapers and grimy truck all rolled into one and making him light-headed and… happy. The more he tried to push the image of a certain bright eyed girl aside, hair aglow in the lamplight like the round halos of the saints in the paintings she'd rambled on about so endlessly… the more he desperately surveyed the current scene and had to fight the urge to bolt without explanation.

A few more moments of edgy silence and—"Lana, can I ask you a question?"

Lana studied him thoughtfully, and turned off the TV. "Sure, Whitney, you can ask me anything you want. You know that."

"Do you love me?"

"Wh-- what?"

"I *asked* you if you love me."

He noted that she smiled uncertainly in exactly the same way she did when trying to hide something. "Where's that coming from?"

"It's a very simple yes-or-no question, Lana," he said dryly. "Do. You. Love. Me? Yes or no? We've been together over a year. I know it's crossed your mind before."

She breathed deeply, and didn't meet his eyes. "Whitney, I… this is so sudden… you know I care about you a lot."

He gave a dry, hollow laugh and stood suddenly. "Yeah, you know what? That's what I thought."

"Wait, where are you going?"

He turned to face her, and began, sounding very tired, "Do you ever think about the way things are between us, and think maybe that's not the way things are supposed to go between two people?"

"I don't understand!"

"All the fighting, the constant ups and downs, the way I never know where you're coming from, and the way it's obvious you don't understand me at all." He was fighting to keep his voice on an even keel. "It's not the way things are supposed to go between people that love each other. Do you ever wonder why we're even still together?"

"Whitney, why are you acting like this all of the sudden? Things were fine between us." Lana shook her head, still disbelieving. "I've told you a thousand times that I like spending time with you. What's the problem?"

The problem is that all you do is lie to me and lie to yourself and you don't care at all, Whitney thought. But instead he just shook his head and said, "I… I need to get some air, Lana. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Whitney!" she called after him, but her only response was the slamming of the back door.



++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

TBC…….