Clark walked into Smallville High, not really paying
attention to where he was going. He felt miserable. He'd lost his chance. Lana
hated him all because of a simple misunderstanding. Somehow he ended up at his
locker and opened it, checking his schedule and getting his books. Closing his
locker, he turned, almost running straight into Lana. He met her eyes, unaware
of the pain his own green eyes displayed. Without a word, Clark diverted his
eyes and hurried to class, mentally kicking himself. How could he have done
such a thing, even under the influence of a red meteor rock? The late bell
rang, shaking Clark from his thoughts.
The day passed in a blur. Clark couldn't
concentrate at all. The only thing that surfaced in his mind was the fact that
he had hurt Lana. He felt so guilty, so fickle. Some guy I am, he
thought angrily. Super powers or no, I'm a jackass. The small,
reasonable part of his mind tried to disagree. After all, Pete had slipped him
some red meteor rock. Lana didn't know what red meteor rocks did to him,
though. He couldn't tell her. She would be angry; she would think he was a
freak. If only there was a way to make her understand...
_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_
Lana walked into the
Talon, her mind still on Clark. The hours passed in hazy distortion, order
after order, forcing smile after smile. The one time she had seen him, they had
practically collided. In the solitary moment their eyes had locked, she had
seen everything. His pain, his sorrow, his guilt, and most of all, his
desperate plea for forgiveness. She had tried, tried so hard to penetrate the
wall that stood at the back of these emotions. It had proved solid and high.
Wishing with all her heart that she could tear down the wall shielding her own
inner self, Lana was dimly aware of a single tear trickle down her cheek. It
was all too much.
Lana sank to the floor in the small
kitchen in the Talon. There she cried silently, mute sobs falling from her with
a bitter sense of regret. Clark had never let her down before...not once. Her
entire being screamed out that there must have been something to influence
Clark, to somehow take control. She was so wrapped up in her grief that she did
not notice the tall man standing before her.
"Lana, why don't you head home? I'll
close up for you." For the first time in as long as he could remember, Lex
Luthor was genuinely concerned, making an offer from the pure knowledge that it
was in Lana's best interests as a friend, not a business partner. She nodded
and hurried away, swiping furiously at her eyes, trying to brush away the pain
like the tears on her face.
When she arrived back at the Sullivans',
Lana was glad to find that no one was home. Unlocking the door, Lana went
straight to her room. A small piece of paper had been left on her night table.
Lana, it read, Clark called for you...4 times. I know, I know, it
really isn't any of my business. But maybe you should call him back. -Chloe
Lana crumpled the note and threw it away, reaching for the phone. Eager fingers
dialed the number, so familiar, so painfully familiar. Every reasonable corner
of her mind told her no, told her she shouldn't be calling him. Somehow, she
couldn't stop herself.
"Hello?" It was Mr. Kent. Lana,
shaken back into reality, hung up without a word. It would be so much easier to
do this in person, to see the sincerity she could already imagine on Clark's
face. To know he cared, and that he was sorry. Lana knew, though, that she
would never be the one to approach him. Maybe this was how it was meant to be.
Maybe she and Clark were destined to be apart. Something told her that it was
the opposite. If only she could have the courage to make things right...
