PART FOUR
Clark Kent breezed through the door of The Torch office. "Hey, Chloe," he said as he dropped his backpack on the nearest chair. "Whatcha doin'?"
But Chloe didn't answer. In fact, if she heard him at all, she didn't show it. Instead, she sat hunched over her desk, blank eyes glued to the computer screen.
"Chloe?" A frown crinkling his brow, Clark approached her desk. Hesitantly, he reached out towards her. "Hey."
The instant his hand touched her shoulder, she jumped.
"God!" she exclaimed. Her arm knocked into a pencil holder, filling the once-silent room with the clatter of wood clacking against wood. Hands pressed over her heart, she turned. And seemed shocked to see him standing there. "Geez, Clark!" she snapped. "Don't sneak up on people like that!"
A little surprised by her angry glare, Clark took a step back. "I didn't sneak. I came in the door, just like always." He nodded towards the door, which was directly in her field of vision. "I even called your name a couple of times. You just…didn't notice."
For a moment, Chloe seemed determined to stay angry. Her glare went from Clark, to the door, and back again. Then, finally, she closed her eyes. "Sorry, Clark," she sighed. Elbow resting on the desk, she pressed her fingertips to her forehead. "My mind was…somewhere else."
"Yeah," Clark agreed. Truth to tell, he was getting used to it.
At lunch today, Chloe barely said two words. Instead, she'd spent the entire period staring at her food. Which she didn't eat.
And, yesterday morning, he, Pete and Lana were talking in the hallway. And Chloe walked right by them. Like she didn't even see them there. Clark had to call her name four times to get her attention.
She'd just been acting…strange. Ever since that cold made her miss a few days of school.
"So." Chloe gave him a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "What's up?" Turning back to the computer, she pecked away at the keyboard.
"Well, I was thinking maybe you, me and Pete could hang out this afternoon." He gave her an encouraging smile. "We could rent videos and order pizza."
"I'd love to, Clark," she said, still typing. "But I can't. I have…something to do as soon as I finish here."
"Really?" Clark frowned. "Like what?"
"Oh, it's just…this thing." She took one hand off the keyboard and waved it dismissively. "It's no big deal. I…uh…kind of promised to baby-sit for someone. A neighbor."
"I thought you said baby-sitting wasn't your thing."
"You mean because of the 'incident'?" She stopped typing long enough to make finger quotes in the air. "Well, I decided not to let one trauma rob me of the chance to increase my income. And, next time, I'll keep the permanent markers away from the little nippers. And the walls."
Clark tried not to smile, but it had been funny. At least, Chloe's rant about never baby sitting ever again had been funny. "Well, okay. I can bring the videos over there. Keep you company. Who are you sitting for, anyway?"
Chloe started to shake her head before he even finished talking. "Sorry, Clark. No boys allowed." Her smile was apologetic. "House rules."
"Oh." Clark sighed with disappointment. "Well, maybe we can do something tomorrow."
"Maybe," Chloe said absently. Then, as her fingers flew over the computer keys, she seemed to tune him out. "See ya later, Clark."
"Uh, yeah. Okay." Unsure of what to do next, Clark walked to the door. Taking his backpack from the chair, he tried to think of something else to say. Finally, when he couldn't, he shrugged his broad shoulders. "Um, 'bye." And, with another sigh, he left the office.
______________________
Glancing up from the keyboard, Chloe watched Clark walk out of the room. As soon as he was out of sight, she took a deep breath and let her body go limp in her chair.
This was harder than she thought it would be. Much harder.
She felt like she was being torn apart inside.
Half of the time, her mind was a million miles away. She couldn't focus on anything around her. Not class. Not The Torch. Not her friends. She was lucky if she remembered to eat.
The other half of the time, she was hyper-aware of her surroundings. Every time she walked past someone, every time someone looked at her, she was sure they saw it. The difference. The abnormality. They had to see it. Right?
That's when she wanted to hide in her room, the door locked and the blinds closed. But, at the same time, she was filled with this burning need to tell somebody.
Her father. Clark. Pete. Even Lana. If she could just tell somebody, maybe she wouldn't feel like screaming every waking moment of every single day. Or laughing hysterically at nothing at all. Or sitting in a quiet corner and crying for a few days.
Chloe ran a weary hand through her tousled hair. But she couldn't tell. She could never tell. If she did, what would she say.
You know how fascinated I've always been about the meteor freaks. Well, guess what? Turns out, I'm the biggest freak of all! And I can't even blame it on meteor rocks. Nope, I was born a freak! I just had to die for my innate freakiness to kick in. How about that?
Lips pressed into a thin line, Chloe started to type, hoping what she wrote made sense. They wouldn't understand. Her father. Clark. None of them could understand this. This feeling. Not just that she wasn't normal, but that she was…wrong. Somehow.
Blinking away tears, Chloe shook her head. "They wouldn't understand."
_____________________
"Hello, Clark," Martha Kent said.
"Hey, Mom," Clark said as he took a carton of milk out of the refrigerator. About to bring it to his lips, he realized his mother was glaring at him…and strangling the dishtowel she held in her hands. With a chagrined smile, Clark took a glass from the draining board.
Martha nodded with satisfaction. "That's better." She gave the already spotless counter a cursory wipe down. "And remember, you're picking up the stuff Mrs. Traubridge agreed to donate to the church yard sale today."
"I know, Mom," Clark said…as if he hadn't completely forgotten. "I'm on it." He poured himself a glass of milk, and downed it in a few quick gulps before pouring another. As he put the milk carton back in the 'fridge, his mind turned to what happened at school this afternoon. And he couldn't keep a deep, but quiet, sigh from escaping.
"Something the matter, Clark?"
Clark smiled a little. Of course his mother heard him. Because he might have special alien powers and super senses. But Martha Kent had special mom-powers far beyond his ability to understand.
Closing the refrigerator door, he turned to face her. "It's just…remember I told you Chloe was out sick for a few days."
"Yes." Martha's frown was sympathetic. "She had a cold?"
"Yeah. And, ever since she came back to school, she's been…I don't know. Different."
"Different how?"
Clark gave it some thought. "Well, distracted. And distant. Kinda listless, I guess. And I haven't seen her anywhere but at school since then."
"Well, honey, it might just be that she's not a hundred percent yet. And you know how I am when I'm getting over a cold."
Clark's eyes widened at the vivid—and scary—memories. "Oh, yeah!" he said. Grinning at his mother's look of indignation, he continued. "And maybe that's all it is. But…"
"You think there's more to it?"
Clark shrugged. "Yeah. Or maybe I'm completely wrong and overreacting to nothing."
"Well, if there's something on Chloe's mind, she might want to talk about it with. Maybe she's just waiting for someone to ask."
Clark nodded. He'd known all along what he'd have to do. But, truth was, Clark Kent sometimes found deep, emotional stuff as scary as…as his mom with a cold. If something serious was bothering Chloe…
…as her friend, he had to try to help her with it.
"Okay," he said. "I'll go to Chloe's as soon as I get back from Mrs. Traubridge's."
____________________
"Nice room," Chloe said as she eyed her surroundings.
"Room?" Merrick looked insulted. Setting his suitcase on the floor, he spread his arms wide. "This, my young pupil, is a suite!"
Chloe's looked around again. She supposed it was a suite…by Smallville Inn standards. There was a sitting area, and a separate bedroom, both kind of small. And, in the corner over there, there was a mini fridge.
"Nice," Chloe said again.
Merrick paused, as if mining that one word for sarcasm. He seemed to decide to take it at face value. "Since this will be my home for the next few…whatevers, I asked for the best." He picked up the suitcase and carried it into the bedroom.
Pushing her hands into her pockets, Chloe wandered over to the window. "To be honest," she began, raising her voice so he could hear her. "I didn't expect you to get here so soon."
"I didn't have all that many loose ends to tie up in Metropolis." Merrick called back. "So it didn't take long."
Chloe nodded, even though he couldn't see her. She'd expected it to take weeks for Merrick to arrive. Weeks where she was all alone. The only one. With no-one she could talk openly with. No-one to answer her questions.
Then, Merrick called to tell her he was already in town. And she felt so relieved, she almost forgot he was a virtual stranger.
"Well," she murmured, "I'm glad you're here."
Merrick stuck his head out the bedroom door. "What did you say?"
Shaking her head, Chloe smiled. Her first real smile in much too long. "It was nothing."
With a shrug, her mentor returned to the bedroom. "We'll start training as soon as I find the right space," he called.
"Uh huh," Chloe said. Arms folded, she started to walk around the room. Studying this and looking at that.
"You'll start out with a light training sword. Then, when you've acquired some skill, we'll get you something more personal. More…you."
"Okay," Chloe said. Because, the fact was, this entire sword-training thing didn't quite feel real to her yet. She just couldn't imagine it. Her.Slashing and thrusting. Metal clanging.
Chloe shivered. Nope. Still didn't feel real.
"I think we'll alternate," Merrick continued. She heard a door open in the bedroom. Probably the closet. "Sword training one day. Hand-to-hand the next. How does that sound?"
"Fine." Yep. Just call her Kung Fu Chloe.
"I already contacted a real estate agent about possible training space." Finally, he came out of the bedroom. "Well, I didn't say training space, of course. Just something spacious, somewhat isolated. She gave me a list of addresses. I thought we'd check them out this afternoon."
"Okay." Chloe looked at the tiny mini fridge. It looked big enough for a carton of eggs, and maybe a six pack of sodas. "You think maybe the real estate agent could find you a nice house to rent?" Chloe asked. Not that she didn't like his, uh, suite. But…
"I'm not really a house person," Merrick said. "What do I need with a bunch of extra rooms to rattle around in? This is fine." He gave the sitting room a fond once over. "Besides, I've lived in worse over the past 130 years."
Another shiver raced up Chloe's spine. Again, she was hit with the fact that the man standing in the room with her was over a century old. A century!
The things he must've seen. The things he must've done! She bet he could tell her some really…
"Please." Merrick held up his hands. "No interviews."
"What?" Chloe exclaimed. "I wasn't going to…what makes you think…I didn't…"
"You just got this strange glimmer in your eye." His own eyes narrowed as Merrick studied her face. "And your expression. It was a cross between a curious child about to bombard her parents with questions, and a ruthless hunter on the scent of her prey."
Teeth clenched, Chloe glared.
Merrick just smirked. "Alright then." He clapped his hands enthusiastically. "Let's go look at those training spots." And he headed for the door.
For a second, Chloe tried to decide whether to be mad or not. Finally, she couldn't help but smile. Rolling her eyes, she followed her mentor out the door.
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Clark's impatient hands tapped against the steering wheel. Now that he'd decided to talk to Chloe, he wanted to do it. Now. The sooner he asked her, the sooner he'd know what was bothering her. Maybe.
But, first, he had to take Mrs. Traubridge's stuff to the church. And he'd have to unload it once he got there. And, since someone would probably be watching him, he'd have to do it at normal speed. And, of course, they might ask him to help with other stuff too. Because he was such a strong, helpful boy.
Clark sighed. He didn't mind using his abilities to help out. But, sometimes, he wouldn't mind being a ninety-eight pound weakling.
As the car in front of him stopped to let some people cross, Clark pulled the truck to a halt. With another impatient sigh, he let his eyes roam around the busy—for Smallville—street. His gaze settled on the Smallville Inn, in time to see…
Suddenly, he was glad he'd been forced to stop. If he'd been moving, he would have slammed on the breaks. The car behind him would have plowed into him, pushing the truck into the car ahead. And…
That was Chloe, wasn't it? Coming out of a hotel with a guy? A man! A, like, 30-something year-old man!
The two of them were smiling at each other. Chatting it up. Walking shoulder to shoulder. They looked very…chummy.
And there was the coming out of a hotel part.
Clark was so stunned, he didn't realize his mouth was hanging open.
Or that his hands had twisted the steering wheel out of shape.
(TO BE CONTINUED)