"Why do I have to keep my eyes closed?"
Whitney let out something like an exasperated growl. "Will you just be quiet and trust me?"
"I can do the latter," Chloe muttered mischievously. "Can't make any promises about the former."
He smirked in spite of himself at that, and led her silently through the grass as he admonished, "No peaking!"
"Hey, trust me, remember?"
Suddenly they stopped, and Whitney didn't say anything more, just surveyed the scene quietly for a few minutes before murmuring, "Just give me a second."
"Sure thing," she said, too brightly. She waited patiently with her eyes screwed shut tightly for all of five seconds before curiosity finally overcame her. One eye pried itself open, against her will even, and then both of them snapped wide open at what she saw.
"A picnic?" she cried, sounding more indignant than she'd intended. Whitney froze without turning to face her, his shoulders slumping.
"I could just kill you, you know that?" He sighed and turned to her, genuinely wounded. "I told you to keep your eyes *closed*."
"Well..." she drawled, thinking fast. "You, um. Took too long!"
Whitney shook his head in disbelief. "Jesus. Well, as long as you completely freakin' ruined my surprise, you may as well lend a hand here setting up."
Chloe kneeled down and did just that. And soon, they'd both started on the ham and cheese sandwiches that, by their haphazard composition, were obviously hand-made by Whitney.
"So this was your big surprise? A picnic?" she asked between mouthfuls of sandwich.
Whitney shook his head and swallowed. "I wanted to talk to you."
"Sounds scarily serious."
"It is." He met her gaze, and her mischievous grin faded.
"Is everything OK?" she asked tentatively.
"Yes. No. I mean--" He weighed his next words carefully under her confused gaze, then began: "I've been thinking a lot about.. About my father, and what I told you while you were in the hospital."
It took a moment for her to catch the reference. "The Army and medals of honor stuff?"
"Right. And I was thinking how if I stayed in Smallville, I'd never be happy, and always wonder what I could have really done with my life."
"Oh, Whitney."
He rushed on: "I've just been thinking about my future. And the worst thing is, I can't see any of the things there now that I always thought *would* be there. I can't see any of my old dreams coming to pass anymore, and for a long time that scared the shit out of me."
"How can you say that?" Chloe asked, her voice hoarse. "I mean, despite all outward appearances to the contrary, you're pretty smart."
"Gee, thanks."
"Shut up and let me finish," she said, almost pleading. "You're only eighteen. I know it sounds cliché, but you've got your whole life in front of you. It's ridiculous that you sound so hopeless. You'll figure something out."
"That's the thing," he said quickly. "I did figure something out. I just didn't want to hurt you."
"Why do I not like the sound of that?"
Whitney sighed, sounding slightly pained. While she watched, he pulled out a folded piece of paper from his back pocket and handed it to her, all business. He watched her expectantly as she read it, her expression quickly falling into shock.
"You're joining the-- the Marines?!"
"Yeah," he said, at a loss for the anger blazing in her eyes. "I thought--"
"Like hell, you thought," Chloe spat out, furious. "You didn't think at all! Have you completely flown over the cuckoo's nest here? The Marines?!?!"
"It's-- my father--"
"Your father wasn't even in the Marines! He was in the Army! Are you insane?" By this time, she was blinking back furious tears, and she threw the remains of her sandwich onto the sheet, standing to leave. "I'm sorry, Whitney. I was stupid enough to think we maybe had something *good* going on here, and you're going to leave-- leave everything just so you can avoid having to actually make any hard decisions. You're not the person I thought you were, Whitney. I'm sorry I ever thought otherwise."
The sight of her storming off jarred him out of his shocked silence. "Chloe, wait!" he cried, and headed after her doggedly. He easily caught up to her with a few quick strides. "Where are you going? Your car's a half hour drive away."
"I'll figure something out," she said, sounding far more hapless than she would have liked. "See, that's what people do when they have problems. They figure out solutions."
His wounded expression sent a pang through her. "This is the best I could come up with!" he said, his own temper building. "I'm not leaving you! I just--"
He took so long in finishing that she found herself gently prodding: "Just what?"
"I just want to be someone you can be proud of," he finally answered, miserable. "I mean. You're so smart, Chloe. After I graduate, if I stay here, I'll end up working in my father's stupid store for years and you'll go off to college and be a famous writer and everyone is going to wonder, 'Why is she even with that loser?' And... it won't take you long to wonder too, and--"
"Whitney, shut the hell up for a minute, will you?" she sniffled, and touched his arm gently. "You don't have to do this. I already *am* proud of you."
"Uh. You are?"
"Yeah. You're the bravest person I know, you know that? That's what I've always liked about you, Whitney, even back when you were just an annoying jock to me." He gave the tiniest hint of a grin as she went on: "You never run away from a fight; you're always ready to just-- do what needs to be done, even if it means taking big risks, and.. God, you're an idiot."
He blinked. "You had me right up until the 'you're an idiot' part." In the next instant, she was waving her own piece of paper, culled from her bag, inches away from his face.
"Read it," she demanded, her tone surprisingly gentle. Tired, maybe.
Whitney did as she asked, and in an instant, incredulity spread over his face. "An application to Kansas State?" He looked over the papers repeatedly in disbelief. "Who filled these out?"
"The College Application Fairy, who else?" She rolled her eyes. "I did, you dork."
"Wh-- why?"
"Whitney." She sighed, and took his hand. "Don't mess this up and let me finish, OK? Getting to know you has been like-- finding out I was this whole other person. It's like you're this amazing judge of character, see? So when you tell me you think I'm smart, or amazing, or that I'm going to be wildly successful, or that you think I'm--" and here she couldn't help blushing a little-- "beautiful... you make me believe it, too. I wanted. I wanted to do something that would give some of that back to you, maybe. I don't know. Am I rambling?"
He smiled, still awestruck. "Maybe a little. It's OK."
She let out a tense breath and continued. "I did my research. Your SATs are over 200 points higher than the minimum requirements. Your GPA, last time you told me, isn't wildly impressive or anything, but it'll do. You'd get in. You could even keep playing football! You could try out for the team in the fall, and they'd be crazy not to take you. And also--"
"You amaze me."
She paused, and returned his grin.
"You really think I can do this?"
"Duh, of course you can. *If* you want to. Uh, is it to late to back out of the Marines thing?"
Whitney thought for a moment. "I don't know. I don't think so. God, how would I pay for this?"
"Uh. There's this amazing thing called *student loans* that you may want to look into. Call me crazy."
"I don't know the first thing-- I--"
"My Dad said he'd help you," Chloe blurted out, then blushed furiously. It made Whitney's grin widen.
"You told your Dad about us, huh?"
"Don't look so smug," she chided. "Just-- maybe I'm way off here, but I feel like we really click on some surreal level. I just didn't want to..." She sighed, embarrassed, and averted her gaze.
Whitney's eyes darted from the application to Chloe's face, and in the next moment, he was hugging her tightly to him. "I don't know what to say," he whispered into her hair fiercely.
She rested her cheek on his shoulder, and returned his embrace. "Say you'll stay," she answered finally, her voice breaking on the last world.
"I'd be crazy not to."
"We'd have a lot to figure out, you know."
"Yeah," he nodded, breaking the embrace and slipping his hand into hers. "It's doable."
She grinned, worry-free just then, and echoed his optimism. "Yeah, it's doable."
********************************************************
Today was the day Lana finally began to set her life in order the way *she* wanted it to be. After a full evening about fretting over Whitney's cryptic angry words to her and avoiding Clark's phone calls, she had woken up that morning having finally reached her utmost limit for allowing other people to make decisions for her. Today, it was time to start taking charge once and for all.
Glancing out the window that morning, she had found it poetic justice that storm clouds seemed to be gathering in Smallville today. Just as well. Today was going to be the first step towards what would no doubt be a far more tumultuous future... and Lana was glad.
The first order of business was Chloe Sullivan, the closest thing she had to a girlfriend since quitting the squad. She really liked Chloe and found her to be a steadfast ally who had been immediately willing to make frank overtures of friendship, which Lana had really appreciated. Lana knew that if she had any hope of becoming closer to Chloe, the business about the charity had to be resolved. She couldn't just let bad air like that stay uncleared.
Which was why she marched right up to Chloe right before first period, and, drawing an unsteady breath, she launched into her speech. "Chloe, I need to talk to you. Do you have time right now?"
Chloe hesitated imperceptibly, then met Lana's eyes with full accordance. "Sure, Lana. What's up?"
"It's about the other day with the charity," Lana began, making herself sound more confident than she really felt. "I saw what you wrote about me in your newspaper, and... I decided I should have listened to you when you tried to tell us about their policies. I was just-- I guess I just freaked out a little. But I didn't mean to treat you like that. And Clark was wrong too. So, I want you to know that I'm really sorry for whatever happened between us."
Chloe nodded thoughtfully. "Well, I guess if I'd been in your shoes, I would have been worried about what people would think too."
Lana nodded as well. "I just-- I have a--" she sighed and began again. "I think we both aren't that great at finding other girls we can relate to, and... I don't want a silly thing like that to get in the way of our friendship. I know we aren't that close yet, but I feel like we could be, and I'd really like that. I'd prefer it if we just turned over a new leaf. You know?"
Chloe kept on nodding, objectively impressed with how many times Lana had managed to use the words "I" and "me" in a single sentence. "I'd like that, too, Lana." And she was surprised to find that she was being perfectly honest.
She was just going to have to accept that Lana was the type of person who did all her thinking out loud. And who never thought about anything except how it directly related to herself. But then, Chloe wasn't perfect either. Nobody ever was.
"Oh, you don't know how relieved I am to hear that, Chloe," Lana said, and squeezed Chloe's elbow with a warm smile. "So, we're still friends?"
Chloe tongued the roof of her mouth subconsciously, recalling how Whitney's tongue had slid across the same spot as they held each other in the fresh night air the previous evening. She hid a small shudder in remembrance, and after a moment's pause, she gave Lana her sweetest, brightest smile. "As far as I'm concerned, all is forgiven and forgotten."
Lana beamed at her and bade her farewell, marveling to herself how painlessly that had gone.
The next order of business for Lana would be a little more daunting, she knew, but she didn't want to lose her momentum. She doggedly looked for Whitney during lunch, dreading having to break his heart as she fully knew she would. He had been an excellent, devoted boyfriend, but... she had to admit that any spark she had felt for him had long ago dwindled, and she was just unwilling to continue investing in a relationship that left her so emotionally unsatisfied. Especially when there was Clark--
She spotted Whitney eating his lunch with his friends at what she knew the other kids called the "jock table", and she slid into the empty spot next to him. He had been laughing at one of his friends' jokes, and when he saw her, his smile didn't waver... but something in his eyes did.
"Hey there."
"Hi, Whitney, do you have a minute? We need to talk."
His jaw set in determination and decision. "Yeah, we do."
Ignoring his teammates' exchange of meaningful smirks, he followed her to a secluded wing of the cafeteria's hallway.
"You first, I guess," he prompted her.
"Whitney, I've been thinking a lot about our conversation the other day," Lana began, forcing herself to look him in the eye. "And-- I want you to know, first of all, that I would never hurt you on purpose."
He had to bite his tongue to keep himself from snorting sarcastically, but he did manage to nod a little.
"But I gave it a lot of thought, and I decided that you're right." She signed, forlorn. "I'm sorry, but the truth is that I don't love you. I don't. I really tried to, but I just don't feel it there."
"Ah. OK."
She didn't notice his flat answer, and just kept going: "You've been great. You've always been there for me when I needed you. I couldn't have asked for a more committed boyfriend. But-- I think we're too young to get tied down to people we don't really love. And I think it's time to be honest with ourselves and just... just admit it's time to move on."
"I agree."
She blinked, taken aback. "You do?"
"Yep." He touched her arm gently. "Y'know, Lana, if it's one thing I've learned recently, it's that life is way too short to spend it not being true to yourself."
Her expression changed into one of great relief, and she smiled at him, genuine affection and gratitude in her eyes. "You're absolutely right, Whitney. I'm just a little surprised that you're being so understanding about this."
"Well, I can't make you feel what you don't," he said neutrally. "I'd rather you were honest with me than try to force something that isn't there."
"Thank you so much for saying that, Whitney," Lana said. "I'm glad you're not too upset about it. You know I would never want to hurt you. You're a great guy, and a great friend, you know that?"
"Thanks, Lana," he said softly, sincerely touched despite himself. "To tell you the truth, Lana, I feel the same way. I guess you're just... too good for me." Then he smiled serenely.
The irony was, of course, completely lost on Lana. "Oh, don't say that, Whitney," she said earnestly. "You're amazing. You really are. And I really do hope that after we both heal from this, we can stay friends. You mean a lot to me."
"Me, too," Whitney admitted. "You'll probably always have a special place in my life, you know."
She smiled at him, full of warmth and sincerity. "I know, Whitney. Mine too."
The silence between them grew awkward, and he gestured toward the cafeteria.
"I should head back."
"OK."
"I'll see you around, Lana."
"Take good care of yourself, Whitney."
He nodded and ducked back into the cafeteria without looking back.
Lana sighed, still in a happy daze. Truly, she should have done this weeks, maybe even months ago. She felt as though the weight of several worlds had been lifted off her shoulders since that morning. And now to take care of the third order of business. She'd saved the best for last. Skipping off happily, she went off to find Clark.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
"Dude, I don't know how you kept a straight face," Chloe murmured, smirking into Whitney's neck later that afternoon. She shifted on the edge of his truck's bed to lean in towards him better. He was stroking her hair, marveling at the little bristly spikes into which she'd molded it. They stared off into space together contentedly, a Kansas field stretching out before them.
"Trust me, it was tough," he said, and grinned wickedly. He felt more at ease than he could have ever imagined just a few weeks before. He squeezed her tighter, and she snuggled closer in response. "I'm just glad it's over."
"Me, too."
"So what happens now?"
"Hell if I know, but I know it's going to be interesting," she answered truthfully, and he felt her breathing against his collarbone, and that made everything all right to him. He twined his fingers around hers, content to sit there in the cool spring afternoon in silence.
Then... the first drop came without warning, sharp and almost cool enough to sting, and it was rapidly followed by another, and then another.
"Oh, my God, is it raining again?" Chloe asked, tilting her face upwards and earning a few splashes on her face for her trouble.
"Yeah, I guess it is."
Chloe met Whitney's gaze and gave him a wry smile, which he returned easily. The rain was increasing in its intensity by the second, and it took very little time for their hair to begin becoming weighted under the droplets.
"Cool," she said simply after a moment, leaning back into his arms. With no hesitation at all, she angled her head back to welcome the downpour.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
THE END
Thanks to the following people who were devoted/ crazy enough to beta this story and/or give me some incredibly good suggestions and character insights, all of which without which it would have truly sucked:
Tresca, queenofalostart, SullivanLane, wookie1013, Cyb, arc, Kassie, Meredith Welling, LJC, Raincitygirl, steptacular, Kathe, ktbaxter, Teri Leigh, and LJC.
Also due gratitude are all the amazing folks over at the TelevisionWithoutPity.com Smallville forums, who have become my online surrogate family. I heart you all for humoring my crazy EJ obsession and giving me feedback on my stories at 4 a.m. on weekdays. Truly a finer group of people does not exist anywhere else online in my estimation. Mmkay I'll stop gushing now.
Whitney let out something like an exasperated growl. "Will you just be quiet and trust me?"
"I can do the latter," Chloe muttered mischievously. "Can't make any promises about the former."
He smirked in spite of himself at that, and led her silently through the grass as he admonished, "No peaking!"
"Hey, trust me, remember?"
Suddenly they stopped, and Whitney didn't say anything more, just surveyed the scene quietly for a few minutes before murmuring, "Just give me a second."
"Sure thing," she said, too brightly. She waited patiently with her eyes screwed shut tightly for all of five seconds before curiosity finally overcame her. One eye pried itself open, against her will even, and then both of them snapped wide open at what she saw.
"A picnic?" she cried, sounding more indignant than she'd intended. Whitney froze without turning to face her, his shoulders slumping.
"I could just kill you, you know that?" He sighed and turned to her, genuinely wounded. "I told you to keep your eyes *closed*."
"Well..." she drawled, thinking fast. "You, um. Took too long!"
Whitney shook his head in disbelief. "Jesus. Well, as long as you completely freakin' ruined my surprise, you may as well lend a hand here setting up."
Chloe kneeled down and did just that. And soon, they'd both started on the ham and cheese sandwiches that, by their haphazard composition, were obviously hand-made by Whitney.
"So this was your big surprise? A picnic?" she asked between mouthfuls of sandwich.
Whitney shook his head and swallowed. "I wanted to talk to you."
"Sounds scarily serious."
"It is." He met her gaze, and her mischievous grin faded.
"Is everything OK?" she asked tentatively.
"Yes. No. I mean--" He weighed his next words carefully under her confused gaze, then began: "I've been thinking a lot about.. About my father, and what I told you while you were in the hospital."
It took a moment for her to catch the reference. "The Army and medals of honor stuff?"
"Right. And I was thinking how if I stayed in Smallville, I'd never be happy, and always wonder what I could have really done with my life."
"Oh, Whitney."
He rushed on: "I've just been thinking about my future. And the worst thing is, I can't see any of the things there now that I always thought *would* be there. I can't see any of my old dreams coming to pass anymore, and for a long time that scared the shit out of me."
"How can you say that?" Chloe asked, her voice hoarse. "I mean, despite all outward appearances to the contrary, you're pretty smart."
"Gee, thanks."
"Shut up and let me finish," she said, almost pleading. "You're only eighteen. I know it sounds cliché, but you've got your whole life in front of you. It's ridiculous that you sound so hopeless. You'll figure something out."
"That's the thing," he said quickly. "I did figure something out. I just didn't want to hurt you."
"Why do I not like the sound of that?"
Whitney sighed, sounding slightly pained. While she watched, he pulled out a folded piece of paper from his back pocket and handed it to her, all business. He watched her expectantly as she read it, her expression quickly falling into shock.
"You're joining the-- the Marines?!"
"Yeah," he said, at a loss for the anger blazing in her eyes. "I thought--"
"Like hell, you thought," Chloe spat out, furious. "You didn't think at all! Have you completely flown over the cuckoo's nest here? The Marines?!?!"
"It's-- my father--"
"Your father wasn't even in the Marines! He was in the Army! Are you insane?" By this time, she was blinking back furious tears, and she threw the remains of her sandwich onto the sheet, standing to leave. "I'm sorry, Whitney. I was stupid enough to think we maybe had something *good* going on here, and you're going to leave-- leave everything just so you can avoid having to actually make any hard decisions. You're not the person I thought you were, Whitney. I'm sorry I ever thought otherwise."
The sight of her storming off jarred him out of his shocked silence. "Chloe, wait!" he cried, and headed after her doggedly. He easily caught up to her with a few quick strides. "Where are you going? Your car's a half hour drive away."
"I'll figure something out," she said, sounding far more hapless than she would have liked. "See, that's what people do when they have problems. They figure out solutions."
His wounded expression sent a pang through her. "This is the best I could come up with!" he said, his own temper building. "I'm not leaving you! I just--"
He took so long in finishing that she found herself gently prodding: "Just what?"
"I just want to be someone you can be proud of," he finally answered, miserable. "I mean. You're so smart, Chloe. After I graduate, if I stay here, I'll end up working in my father's stupid store for years and you'll go off to college and be a famous writer and everyone is going to wonder, 'Why is she even with that loser?' And... it won't take you long to wonder too, and--"
"Whitney, shut the hell up for a minute, will you?" she sniffled, and touched his arm gently. "You don't have to do this. I already *am* proud of you."
"Uh. You are?"
"Yeah. You're the bravest person I know, you know that? That's what I've always liked about you, Whitney, even back when you were just an annoying jock to me." He gave the tiniest hint of a grin as she went on: "You never run away from a fight; you're always ready to just-- do what needs to be done, even if it means taking big risks, and.. God, you're an idiot."
He blinked. "You had me right up until the 'you're an idiot' part." In the next instant, she was waving her own piece of paper, culled from her bag, inches away from his face.
"Read it," she demanded, her tone surprisingly gentle. Tired, maybe.
Whitney did as she asked, and in an instant, incredulity spread over his face. "An application to Kansas State?" He looked over the papers repeatedly in disbelief. "Who filled these out?"
"The College Application Fairy, who else?" She rolled her eyes. "I did, you dork."
"Wh-- why?"
"Whitney." She sighed, and took his hand. "Don't mess this up and let me finish, OK? Getting to know you has been like-- finding out I was this whole other person. It's like you're this amazing judge of character, see? So when you tell me you think I'm smart, or amazing, or that I'm going to be wildly successful, or that you think I'm--" and here she couldn't help blushing a little-- "beautiful... you make me believe it, too. I wanted. I wanted to do something that would give some of that back to you, maybe. I don't know. Am I rambling?"
He smiled, still awestruck. "Maybe a little. It's OK."
She let out a tense breath and continued. "I did my research. Your SATs are over 200 points higher than the minimum requirements. Your GPA, last time you told me, isn't wildly impressive or anything, but it'll do. You'd get in. You could even keep playing football! You could try out for the team in the fall, and they'd be crazy not to take you. And also--"
"You amaze me."
She paused, and returned his grin.
"You really think I can do this?"
"Duh, of course you can. *If* you want to. Uh, is it to late to back out of the Marines thing?"
Whitney thought for a moment. "I don't know. I don't think so. God, how would I pay for this?"
"Uh. There's this amazing thing called *student loans* that you may want to look into. Call me crazy."
"I don't know the first thing-- I--"
"My Dad said he'd help you," Chloe blurted out, then blushed furiously. It made Whitney's grin widen.
"You told your Dad about us, huh?"
"Don't look so smug," she chided. "Just-- maybe I'm way off here, but I feel like we really click on some surreal level. I just didn't want to..." She sighed, embarrassed, and averted her gaze.
Whitney's eyes darted from the application to Chloe's face, and in the next moment, he was hugging her tightly to him. "I don't know what to say," he whispered into her hair fiercely.
She rested her cheek on his shoulder, and returned his embrace. "Say you'll stay," she answered finally, her voice breaking on the last world.
"I'd be crazy not to."
"We'd have a lot to figure out, you know."
"Yeah," he nodded, breaking the embrace and slipping his hand into hers. "It's doable."
She grinned, worry-free just then, and echoed his optimism. "Yeah, it's doable."
********************************************************
Today was the day Lana finally began to set her life in order the way *she* wanted it to be. After a full evening about fretting over Whitney's cryptic angry words to her and avoiding Clark's phone calls, she had woken up that morning having finally reached her utmost limit for allowing other people to make decisions for her. Today, it was time to start taking charge once and for all.
Glancing out the window that morning, she had found it poetic justice that storm clouds seemed to be gathering in Smallville today. Just as well. Today was going to be the first step towards what would no doubt be a far more tumultuous future... and Lana was glad.
The first order of business was Chloe Sullivan, the closest thing she had to a girlfriend since quitting the squad. She really liked Chloe and found her to be a steadfast ally who had been immediately willing to make frank overtures of friendship, which Lana had really appreciated. Lana knew that if she had any hope of becoming closer to Chloe, the business about the charity had to be resolved. She couldn't just let bad air like that stay uncleared.
Which was why she marched right up to Chloe right before first period, and, drawing an unsteady breath, she launched into her speech. "Chloe, I need to talk to you. Do you have time right now?"
Chloe hesitated imperceptibly, then met Lana's eyes with full accordance. "Sure, Lana. What's up?"
"It's about the other day with the charity," Lana began, making herself sound more confident than she really felt. "I saw what you wrote about me in your newspaper, and... I decided I should have listened to you when you tried to tell us about their policies. I was just-- I guess I just freaked out a little. But I didn't mean to treat you like that. And Clark was wrong too. So, I want you to know that I'm really sorry for whatever happened between us."
Chloe nodded thoughtfully. "Well, I guess if I'd been in your shoes, I would have been worried about what people would think too."
Lana nodded as well. "I just-- I have a--" she sighed and began again. "I think we both aren't that great at finding other girls we can relate to, and... I don't want a silly thing like that to get in the way of our friendship. I know we aren't that close yet, but I feel like we could be, and I'd really like that. I'd prefer it if we just turned over a new leaf. You know?"
Chloe kept on nodding, objectively impressed with how many times Lana had managed to use the words "I" and "me" in a single sentence. "I'd like that, too, Lana." And she was surprised to find that she was being perfectly honest.
She was just going to have to accept that Lana was the type of person who did all her thinking out loud. And who never thought about anything except how it directly related to herself. But then, Chloe wasn't perfect either. Nobody ever was.
"Oh, you don't know how relieved I am to hear that, Chloe," Lana said, and squeezed Chloe's elbow with a warm smile. "So, we're still friends?"
Chloe tongued the roof of her mouth subconsciously, recalling how Whitney's tongue had slid across the same spot as they held each other in the fresh night air the previous evening. She hid a small shudder in remembrance, and after a moment's pause, she gave Lana her sweetest, brightest smile. "As far as I'm concerned, all is forgiven and forgotten."
Lana beamed at her and bade her farewell, marveling to herself how painlessly that had gone.
The next order of business for Lana would be a little more daunting, she knew, but she didn't want to lose her momentum. She doggedly looked for Whitney during lunch, dreading having to break his heart as she fully knew she would. He had been an excellent, devoted boyfriend, but... she had to admit that any spark she had felt for him had long ago dwindled, and she was just unwilling to continue investing in a relationship that left her so emotionally unsatisfied. Especially when there was Clark--
She spotted Whitney eating his lunch with his friends at what she knew the other kids called the "jock table", and she slid into the empty spot next to him. He had been laughing at one of his friends' jokes, and when he saw her, his smile didn't waver... but something in his eyes did.
"Hey there."
"Hi, Whitney, do you have a minute? We need to talk."
His jaw set in determination and decision. "Yeah, we do."
Ignoring his teammates' exchange of meaningful smirks, he followed her to a secluded wing of the cafeteria's hallway.
"You first, I guess," he prompted her.
"Whitney, I've been thinking a lot about our conversation the other day," Lana began, forcing herself to look him in the eye. "And-- I want you to know, first of all, that I would never hurt you on purpose."
He had to bite his tongue to keep himself from snorting sarcastically, but he did manage to nod a little.
"But I gave it a lot of thought, and I decided that you're right." She signed, forlorn. "I'm sorry, but the truth is that I don't love you. I don't. I really tried to, but I just don't feel it there."
"Ah. OK."
She didn't notice his flat answer, and just kept going: "You've been great. You've always been there for me when I needed you. I couldn't have asked for a more committed boyfriend. But-- I think we're too young to get tied down to people we don't really love. And I think it's time to be honest with ourselves and just... just admit it's time to move on."
"I agree."
She blinked, taken aback. "You do?"
"Yep." He touched her arm gently. "Y'know, Lana, if it's one thing I've learned recently, it's that life is way too short to spend it not being true to yourself."
Her expression changed into one of great relief, and she smiled at him, genuine affection and gratitude in her eyes. "You're absolutely right, Whitney. I'm just a little surprised that you're being so understanding about this."
"Well, I can't make you feel what you don't," he said neutrally. "I'd rather you were honest with me than try to force something that isn't there."
"Thank you so much for saying that, Whitney," Lana said. "I'm glad you're not too upset about it. You know I would never want to hurt you. You're a great guy, and a great friend, you know that?"
"Thanks, Lana," he said softly, sincerely touched despite himself. "To tell you the truth, Lana, I feel the same way. I guess you're just... too good for me." Then he smiled serenely.
The irony was, of course, completely lost on Lana. "Oh, don't say that, Whitney," she said earnestly. "You're amazing. You really are. And I really do hope that after we both heal from this, we can stay friends. You mean a lot to me."
"Me, too," Whitney admitted. "You'll probably always have a special place in my life, you know."
She smiled at him, full of warmth and sincerity. "I know, Whitney. Mine too."
The silence between them grew awkward, and he gestured toward the cafeteria.
"I should head back."
"OK."
"I'll see you around, Lana."
"Take good care of yourself, Whitney."
He nodded and ducked back into the cafeteria without looking back.
Lana sighed, still in a happy daze. Truly, she should have done this weeks, maybe even months ago. She felt as though the weight of several worlds had been lifted off her shoulders since that morning. And now to take care of the third order of business. She'd saved the best for last. Skipping off happily, she went off to find Clark.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
"Dude, I don't know how you kept a straight face," Chloe murmured, smirking into Whitney's neck later that afternoon. She shifted on the edge of his truck's bed to lean in towards him better. He was stroking her hair, marveling at the little bristly spikes into which she'd molded it. They stared off into space together contentedly, a Kansas field stretching out before them.
"Trust me, it was tough," he said, and grinned wickedly. He felt more at ease than he could have ever imagined just a few weeks before. He squeezed her tighter, and she snuggled closer in response. "I'm just glad it's over."
"Me, too."
"So what happens now?"
"Hell if I know, but I know it's going to be interesting," she answered truthfully, and he felt her breathing against his collarbone, and that made everything all right to him. He twined his fingers around hers, content to sit there in the cool spring afternoon in silence.
Then... the first drop came without warning, sharp and almost cool enough to sting, and it was rapidly followed by another, and then another.
"Oh, my God, is it raining again?" Chloe asked, tilting her face upwards and earning a few splashes on her face for her trouble.
"Yeah, I guess it is."
Chloe met Whitney's gaze and gave him a wry smile, which he returned easily. The rain was increasing in its intensity by the second, and it took very little time for their hair to begin becoming weighted under the droplets.
"Cool," she said simply after a moment, leaning back into his arms. With no hesitation at all, she angled her head back to welcome the downpour.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
THE END
Thanks to the following people who were devoted/ crazy enough to beta this story and/or give me some incredibly good suggestions and character insights, all of which without which it would have truly sucked:
Tresca, queenofalostart, SullivanLane, wookie1013, Cyb, arc, Kassie, Meredith Welling, LJC, Raincitygirl, steptacular, Kathe, ktbaxter, Teri Leigh, and LJC.
Also due gratitude are all the amazing folks over at the TelevisionWithoutPity.com Smallville forums, who have become my online surrogate family. I heart you all for humoring my crazy EJ obsession and giving me feedback on my stories at 4 a.m. on weekdays. Truly a finer group of people does not exist anywhere else online in my estimation. Mmkay I'll stop gushing now.