Chapter 3: Plots And Plans
~~~
"Clark! Clark! I said I'm sorry," I squeak out, in a pleading tone.
He walks away from me without responding. He must be really mad.
"Don't bother, Lana, you're just gonna have to give him some time."
"Is he really angry, Pete?"
"Uh, he's not mad, he's. well, I think he's scarred for life. I don't know if he'll ever talk again. His mom thought he was in another coma. Pretty funny, what you did to him though. Wish I could've seen his face, way to go, Lana."
Pete raises his hand, expecting a high five. I glare at him. He slowly lowers his arm, swallows hard, and wisely turns around, walking away. I went too far, and now I've got to make it up to him. But how? The school bell breaks my thought process; I'm late.
~~~
What is this guy yammering about? I try to focus, but all I hear is gibberish. I lay my head down on the desk, staring at the clock, willing it to go faster. After the 'incident' last night, my concentration has been less than perfect. The vision of my mother looking out of Lana's window, almost straight at me, while I stood at my window, gawking through my telescope, pantsless and erect, haunts me still.
"Mr. Kent!"
"Mom?" I respond, Mr. Hall's voice jerking me out of my thoughts.
The class erupts into a fit of giggles as I slouch down, trying to make myself as small as possible.
"I'm not your mommy, Mr. Kent. Now if you want to pass History this term, I'd advise you stop daydreaming about your mother."
Oh God. I feel my cheeks go crimson, and I slink down in my seat. A good minute later, after the laughter subsides, I sit myself upright and try to pay attention to Mr. Hall's diatribe on the use of the atom bomb on Japan.
I'd gladly put myself in Hiroshima on that fateful day, rather than relive last night. After getting over the shock, I managed to crawl to the bathroom and throw myself in the tub, still half-clothed. I ran the water ice-cold, and laid there, numb, and dumbfounded. That's where my mother found me last night. I never told her what I was doing, or why I couldn't look her in the eye.
I feel a tap on my shoulder. Pete's there smiling, holding out a note, offering it to me. I unfold the note and read it. 'Clark, please forgive me. I want to make it up to you after class. Love, Lana.' My eyebrows raise at this. I look behind Pete, and there's Lana, doing her best to give me a sympathetic smile. This better be good.
The bell rings, I gather up my books and my bag, and walk out into the hallway. It's lunchtime, and I skipped breakfast, but I'm not hungry. I'm not even sure I could hold any food down at this point. Lana brushes past me, grabbing my arm and tugging at the sleeve, motioning for me to follow her, her eyes pleading for forgiveness. I let her guide me down the hall, wondering just what she has in store for me. She drags me into an empty corridor, and looks both ways before pulling me into a supply closet.
~~~
I open the door slightly, poking my head out to check the hall, making sure the coast is clear. I can't believe what I just did. I pull Clark out and shut the door.
"So you feel better now?"
"Oh, yeah, much better."
I smile and notice the shit-eating grin on his face.
"Knock it off, or someone might suspect something."
His grin diminishes, but he still looks like a kid on Christmas morning. I guess this will have to do.
"Now Clark, I know that doesn't quite make up for what I put you through last night, so listen, you aren't taking me out tonight."
"Huh? But, what about our date?"
"You, dress nicely, and I will pick you up at eight, tomorrow night. All right?"
"Why the wait?"
"Wanna do something special for it."
"Okay, I can't wait."
"Me neither."
I smile once more and pull his head down, pressing my lips against his. I pull back, and gauge the reaction on his face. He looks like he's daydreaming. I say goodbye and leave, hoping I got the image of his mother out of his head. If not, the last few minutes would have been very disturbing indeed. I try to clear my throat, as I look for the nearest water fountain.
~~~
There he is. It's been a whole week since I witnessed the sordid scene outside Clark's loft. Lana's so gonna pay for taking my man from me.
"Chloe! Where the heck have you been all week? Your dad said something about a trip, but not much else."
"Clark, it's nice to see someone missed me. I um, visited some folks in Metropolis."
"Well, why didn't you tell anyone?"
"Okay, how's this: I was in a private psychiatric institution for five days after suffering a nervous breakdown."
"Fine, if you don't want to tell me, I guess you're entitled to your secrets."
Yes! He bought it. I still can't believe my dad made me go to that place. valuable vacation time wasted. Now to see if I can rescue him from the clutches of Lana Lang.
"So, how are you and Lana?"
"Me and Lana? We're fine, I guess."
"Fine? That's not what I've been hearing. Now you tell me the scoop before I start up a gossip column for the Torch."
"She's taking me out on a date tomorrow night."
"She's taking you out on a date?"
"That's right, she did something truly horrible to me, and she's trying to make amends."
"You know friends don't do horrible things to each other. Are you sure you want to be with someone like that?"
"It wasn't that horrible."
"What did she do?"
"Um. she hid all my flannel."
I hear sadness in his voice. Flannel, the one thing in this world that Clark depends on. Over the years I've come to realize that flannel is a symbol of stability for Clark, a material substitute for the parents that gave him away. Flannel would never run out on him, or give up on him. How dare Lana hurt Clark like that?
"That devil-woman! How dare she? You shouldn't have to put up with that kind of crap! I know how much flannel means to you!"
"Chloe, calm down."
"No, Clark, I can't stand the thought of someone hurting you. You know, I'd never do anything like that to you."
I flutter my eyelashes at him, trying to stare into his eyes to get that connection, but he's not looking at me. Bastard, notice me!
"Chloe, we've been through this. We're both better off as friends."
"Can't I do anything to change your mind?" I ask seductively, one hand playing with my hair, the other hand stroking his shoulder."
"Are you coming on to me?"
"It's worth a shot. Hey, there's a supply closet over there, wanna go inside and - "
"I am not letting you finish that sentence. I just want to be your friend Chloe, I'll see you later."
He hurries away nervously as I gaze lovingly at his retreating butt. I need some farmboy! I sigh and turn around, noticing the supply closet once again. Eww. I make a face as I see something sticky on the door handle.
~~~
"Clark! Clark! I said I'm sorry," I squeak out, in a pleading tone.
He walks away from me without responding. He must be really mad.
"Don't bother, Lana, you're just gonna have to give him some time."
"Is he really angry, Pete?"
"Uh, he's not mad, he's. well, I think he's scarred for life. I don't know if he'll ever talk again. His mom thought he was in another coma. Pretty funny, what you did to him though. Wish I could've seen his face, way to go, Lana."
Pete raises his hand, expecting a high five. I glare at him. He slowly lowers his arm, swallows hard, and wisely turns around, walking away. I went too far, and now I've got to make it up to him. But how? The school bell breaks my thought process; I'm late.
~~~
What is this guy yammering about? I try to focus, but all I hear is gibberish. I lay my head down on the desk, staring at the clock, willing it to go faster. After the 'incident' last night, my concentration has been less than perfect. The vision of my mother looking out of Lana's window, almost straight at me, while I stood at my window, gawking through my telescope, pantsless and erect, haunts me still.
"Mr. Kent!"
"Mom?" I respond, Mr. Hall's voice jerking me out of my thoughts.
The class erupts into a fit of giggles as I slouch down, trying to make myself as small as possible.
"I'm not your mommy, Mr. Kent. Now if you want to pass History this term, I'd advise you stop daydreaming about your mother."
Oh God. I feel my cheeks go crimson, and I slink down in my seat. A good minute later, after the laughter subsides, I sit myself upright and try to pay attention to Mr. Hall's diatribe on the use of the atom bomb on Japan.
I'd gladly put myself in Hiroshima on that fateful day, rather than relive last night. After getting over the shock, I managed to crawl to the bathroom and throw myself in the tub, still half-clothed. I ran the water ice-cold, and laid there, numb, and dumbfounded. That's where my mother found me last night. I never told her what I was doing, or why I couldn't look her in the eye.
I feel a tap on my shoulder. Pete's there smiling, holding out a note, offering it to me. I unfold the note and read it. 'Clark, please forgive me. I want to make it up to you after class. Love, Lana.' My eyebrows raise at this. I look behind Pete, and there's Lana, doing her best to give me a sympathetic smile. This better be good.
The bell rings, I gather up my books and my bag, and walk out into the hallway. It's lunchtime, and I skipped breakfast, but I'm not hungry. I'm not even sure I could hold any food down at this point. Lana brushes past me, grabbing my arm and tugging at the sleeve, motioning for me to follow her, her eyes pleading for forgiveness. I let her guide me down the hall, wondering just what she has in store for me. She drags me into an empty corridor, and looks both ways before pulling me into a supply closet.
~~~
I open the door slightly, poking my head out to check the hall, making sure the coast is clear. I can't believe what I just did. I pull Clark out and shut the door.
"So you feel better now?"
"Oh, yeah, much better."
I smile and notice the shit-eating grin on his face.
"Knock it off, or someone might suspect something."
His grin diminishes, but he still looks like a kid on Christmas morning. I guess this will have to do.
"Now Clark, I know that doesn't quite make up for what I put you through last night, so listen, you aren't taking me out tonight."
"Huh? But, what about our date?"
"You, dress nicely, and I will pick you up at eight, tomorrow night. All right?"
"Why the wait?"
"Wanna do something special for it."
"Okay, I can't wait."
"Me neither."
I smile once more and pull his head down, pressing my lips against his. I pull back, and gauge the reaction on his face. He looks like he's daydreaming. I say goodbye and leave, hoping I got the image of his mother out of his head. If not, the last few minutes would have been very disturbing indeed. I try to clear my throat, as I look for the nearest water fountain.
~~~
There he is. It's been a whole week since I witnessed the sordid scene outside Clark's loft. Lana's so gonna pay for taking my man from me.
"Chloe! Where the heck have you been all week? Your dad said something about a trip, but not much else."
"Clark, it's nice to see someone missed me. I um, visited some folks in Metropolis."
"Well, why didn't you tell anyone?"
"Okay, how's this: I was in a private psychiatric institution for five days after suffering a nervous breakdown."
"Fine, if you don't want to tell me, I guess you're entitled to your secrets."
Yes! He bought it. I still can't believe my dad made me go to that place. valuable vacation time wasted. Now to see if I can rescue him from the clutches of Lana Lang.
"So, how are you and Lana?"
"Me and Lana? We're fine, I guess."
"Fine? That's not what I've been hearing. Now you tell me the scoop before I start up a gossip column for the Torch."
"She's taking me out on a date tomorrow night."
"She's taking you out on a date?"
"That's right, she did something truly horrible to me, and she's trying to make amends."
"You know friends don't do horrible things to each other. Are you sure you want to be with someone like that?"
"It wasn't that horrible."
"What did she do?"
"Um. she hid all my flannel."
I hear sadness in his voice. Flannel, the one thing in this world that Clark depends on. Over the years I've come to realize that flannel is a symbol of stability for Clark, a material substitute for the parents that gave him away. Flannel would never run out on him, or give up on him. How dare Lana hurt Clark like that?
"That devil-woman! How dare she? You shouldn't have to put up with that kind of crap! I know how much flannel means to you!"
"Chloe, calm down."
"No, Clark, I can't stand the thought of someone hurting you. You know, I'd never do anything like that to you."
I flutter my eyelashes at him, trying to stare into his eyes to get that connection, but he's not looking at me. Bastard, notice me!
"Chloe, we've been through this. We're both better off as friends."
"Can't I do anything to change your mind?" I ask seductively, one hand playing with my hair, the other hand stroking his shoulder."
"Are you coming on to me?"
"It's worth a shot. Hey, there's a supply closet over there, wanna go inside and - "
"I am not letting you finish that sentence. I just want to be your friend Chloe, I'll see you later."
He hurries away nervously as I gaze lovingly at his retreating butt. I need some farmboy! I sigh and turn around, noticing the supply closet once again. Eww. I make a face as I see something sticky on the door handle.