"Hi," came a small voice from behind him. Clark turned around to find Lana
standing on the top step of the stairs to his loft.
"Hey," he said quietly and looked away.
"Clark…I'm so sorry."
"Don't be." He stared straight ahead.
"But…I am."
"Why?"
"Because…I got drunk. And I don't know how it happened. But I've heard that I acted pretty… irrationally, and I just wanted to apologize."
"Fine," he said coolly. Lana began to worry. Clark was never this distant, but he'd also never been mad at her.
She touched his arm and he flinched.
"Clark, what is it?"
"You wouldn't understand Lana," he replied, brushing her off.
"I do understand. You're upset about Whitney…about what happened." She looked guiltily down at her feet. "I said I'm sorry. I know what it must have been like--."
"You don't know!" he yelled. Lana recoiled and stepped away from him. Instantly Clark regretted yelling at her. She looked almost afraid of him. He took a deep breath. "You think you understand, but you don't. You have no idea."
"Believe me," she said, her expression softening, "I wish that I did. I wish I could remember."
"No you don't," he said firmly. "I was there. I remember. And now…I can't be around you. Everything is different now."
"Clark, what…why are you doing this?"
"Because, it scares me, but I think you did get drunk on purpose that night. There isn't any other plausible explanation. I don't want it to be true. I want to believe you. I do, so bad. But I can't." He took one last look at her, and she thought she saw regret flash over his face briefly before he pushed past her and walked down the steps, leaving Lana standing alone in his loft, completely bewildered.
Lana knocked softly on Chloe Sullivan's door. When she opened it, surprise registered on her face.
"Lana…what are you doing here?"
"I'm sorry to just show up here but…well, I tried to talk to Pete, but…he's a guy and he gave me your address and I didn't know what else to do so--."
"Lana! Slow down. What happened?"
Lana sighed and walked in. Chloe led her upstairs to her bedroom. They sat down on her bed.
"Okay…spill. This is Clark related, isn't it?"
Lana nodded. "I realize that you're probably not the best one to go to when it comes to advice about Clark but, well…you know him the best. I tried talking to Pete but he got awkward and told me I would probably be better off talking to you. I don't think he wants to be involved in this."
'That makes two of us,' Chloe thought. "So, how can I help?"
"I don't really know," Lana confessed. "I went to talk to Clark, to apologize for what happened last night."
Chloe smiled. "How are you feeling, by the way?"
"Like hell, thanks for asking." Lana continued. "When I went to see Clark he seemed very distant and erratic. He actually yelled at me. I mean, I've known him for years, and Clark doesn't yell."
"No he doesn't." Chloe paused, and carefully measured her words. "Lana," she said patiently, "how would you feel if Clark kissed another girl?"
Lana looked uneasy. She thought about it for a second. "I'd be devastated," she said flatly. Chloe nodded.
"But Clark would never do that."
"No he wouldn't. And neither would you. At least that's what Clark believed. He adores you Lana. You practically walk on air to him. And when he saw you and Whitney at the dance, he freaked out. I think he's just afraid of losing you."
"Then why is he pushing me away?"
"Because…you hurt him. And he doesn't want to be reminded of that. Besides, your aunt practically said she'd have him arrested if he ever saw you again. He's probably just trying to protect you."
"Chloe…how do you know all this?"
"Clark's been my best friend for years. I see him, you know?" Chloe looked uncomfortable for a moment. "Lana? Do you want to see the tape?"
"What tape?"
"Of the Winter Formal. The media production class filmed it for the yearbook staff. I just happen to have a copy," she said mischievously.
Lana nodded, uncertain as to what she was getting herself into.
Chloe got up off the bed and retrieved a black VHS tape from her desk. She then popped it into the VCR next to her T.V. and pressed play. It began a few minutes before the king and queen announcement. Lana looked for herself on screen.
"You're not on yet," Chloe said, as if reading her mind. "You were getting wasted over at the refreshment table."
Lana glared at her. "Kidding! God, it was just a joke." Chloe started fast-forwarding.
"Since that's exactly what was happening, I don't really find it all that funny," Lana said.
"Okay look, if you didn't get drunk on purpose, then someone must have wanted you to make a fool out of yourself."
"Right," Lana agreed.
"Well, who would want to do that? Who would have the opportunity?"
"That's what I can't figure out. I suppose there are people that aren't exactly thrilled with me, because of the Whitney incident, but I don't know any one that was around that could have spiked my drink."
"Weird," Chloe observed.
"Definitely," Lana said, sighing.
Chloe stopped and motioned to the VCR. "Here we go," she said, and pressed play.
An image of Lana stumbling up to the stage appeared onscreen. Lana winced and forced herself to keep watching. Her speech came out muffled and garbled, but vaguely recognizable. And then there it was. The kiss. She had grabbed Whitney forcefully and made out with him in front of the entire school. Lana's stomach lurched. She suddenly felt overwhelmingly guilty. She knew that it wasn't really her fault, but the look on Clark's face when the camera panned towards him was heart breaking. He looked more shocked and surprised at first, like he couldn't believe what he was witnessing. Then his face transformed and he was hurt, betrayed by the one person he trusted most. She imagined that this was how he felt, because she pretended the situation was reversed and knew that it was what she'd be feeling. Seeing herself with Whitney was strange, disgusting and all too familiar. What was worse was that this time, it was her being the aggressor, and Whitney fighting her off. It sickened her to keep watching.
"Chloe, turn off the tape," she whispered.
Chloe looked over at Lana. She was pale and shaking, and holding her face in her hands.
"Well?" Chloe said.
"It was awful. I feel horrible. I have to go talk to him," she said urgently.
"I don't think that's such a good idea Lana. Give him a few days to cool off, okay? Trust me, it'll be easier that way."
"How do you know?" Lana asked.
"I just do," Chloe said simply.
Lana sighed and nodded. She got up and looked gratefully at Chloe. "Thanks. I know that this isn't an ideal situation."
"You mean you going out with the guy I'm in love with?" Chloe said sullenly.
"Yeah. Are you jealous?"
"Incredibly." She shrugged. "Nobody's perfect." 'Except you Lana,' she thought miserably. Chloe smiled broadly, keeping up the cheery façade. 'Hey, if Lana can fake it, so can I.'
"You're a good friend Chloe."
"Not to you. To Clark." This was Chloe's less than subtle way of reminding Lana that they were still on opposite sides. Lana took the hint, and showed herself out.
Monday mornings were hellish in and of themselves. This one was particularly bad. For Lana, it lasted an eternity. It had been three days since the dance and two since Clark had stopped speaking to her. Lana spent the remainder of her weekend avoiding her aunt. She went riding to clear her mind, but it had only made her head hurt worse, and cause her thoughts to go haywire. She ended up more confused about Clark then ever. She could understand why he didn't want to see her right now, but not why it bothered her so much.
At school people cracked jokes, which she ignored. Lunchtime provided her with an opportunity to go to the bathroom and change the white bandage on her head. Several people had asked her about it. She couldn't answer them, so had just said that she'd fallen over the weekend and hit her head. People smirked and walked away muttering stories to their friends about their worst hangovers. Lana wanted to protest, but saw no point, since everything that people were saying was true.
Her appetite was gone. She hadn't eaten in days, and had already lost five pounds. At first, the wicked hangover, although helped slightly by the pills the doctor had given her for the concussion, made her nauseous and unable to eat. Then, merely the thinking about Clark made her too tired to stop and think about food. Now, she had simply ceased to be hungry.
Clark Kent's week was not starting well either. His friends, although well meaning, were beginning to get on his nerves. Chloe and Pete, in attempt to be supportive, had started insulting Lana. They'd stopped after Clark got angry and told them to knock it off. It wasn't that he wasn't upset with Lana, it was just, well…she was Lana. In a strange way, now more than ever, he felt it up to him to protect her. He just didn't want anyone else to acknowledge it. Of course, Chloe had, asking him why he still felt he had to be loyal to her after what she'd done to him. Clark didn't have an answer for her.
It was passing period, after lunch. Clark had managed to avoid Lana all day, but his luck eventually ran out. She passed him in the hallway. She looked up and their eyes met for a brief moment before she lowered her head and kept walking. For an instant he wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her and make everything between them better. But the moment was gone, and so soon was his temporary insanity. Things were complicated now and nothing could change that.
Whitney jogged after Clark. He made a mental note as he approached him to remain calm and respectful, as much as he couldn't stand the guy. He swallowed his pride, walked up to Clark, and tapped him on the shoulder. Clark spun around.
"Whitney," he said uneasily.
"Look Kent," he rushed, "I just wanted to say I'm sorry for what happened at the dance."
Clark glared at him suspiciously. "Thanks, I guess."
Whitney continued. "Lana would never do it on purpose. Get drunk, I mean. What happened to her?"
"I'm not sure exactly. Why don't you ask one of your football buddies about it?"
"My guys had nothing to do with it Kent. I know everything that happens on my team."
"Except that you're not on the team anymore. Maybe some of the guys decided it would be funny to get your ex drunk. You know, payback for you getting kicked off the team."
"Or maybe your precious girlfriend--." Whitney stopped himself mid sentence. "Look, it wasn't anyone on the team. I would have heard about it. You think they'd pull something like that and then not even tell me? Subtlety isn't exactly their style, if you know what I mean."
Clark nodded. "Then you think that Lana…"
Whitney shook his head. "I know Lana. She wouldn't. She was my girlfriend for a long time. She doesn't smoke, she doesn't drink, and she doesn't do drugs. Well, you know her."
"I thought I did." Clark looked sad, and Whitney felt momentarily sorry for him.
"You shouldn't be so hard on Lana. Who knows what really happened? We probably never will. Just give her the benefit of the doubt."
"Whitney, why are you encouraging this?"
"Because, I made a mistake with Lana. Believe it or not, I did like her. I liked spending time with her. She's interesting and beautiful and special. But she's also uncharted territory, if you know what I mean. The guys wanted to know why I hadn't nailed her yet. They thought I was whipped," he said bitterly. Whitney shrugged unhappily. "I guess I felt like I had to prove them wrong. I never meant to hurt her; everything just happened so fast and got out of control. I'm glad you came over that night. I wasn't myself Clark. I feel guilty about it. I do. Besides I have a girlfriend, man. Megan was pretty pissed about it too. Trust me, I didn't initiate that kiss."
And Clark believed him. He smiled wanly. "If what you wanted was to be forgiven then fine. I forgive you. But I'm not the one you should be apologizing to." Clark started to walk away and spotted Lana staring at them, silent, her large, brown eyes pleading to him. He could tell she wanted to talk to him, but was showing considerable restraint. He looked back at Whitney and suddenly didn't feel right about the conversation. They hadn't spoken since Clark had thrown him out of Lana's room weeks earlier. This was not how he had imagined it. He owed Lana more. He turned around and grabbed Whitney from behind.
"Yeah, you know what Whitney, I changed my mind. I don't forgive you," he said shoving Whitney hard into the locker. Lana mouth opened wide in horror as Clark pinned him against the cold, hard metal.
"If you ever touch her again, or if I find out that you were in any way responsible for what happened on Saturday, I swear to god, I'll kick your ass."
Lana who was watching the altercation from ten feet away sighed angrily and pushed through the small crowd waiting for what they hoped would be a fight. Lana grabbed the back of Clark's shirt and pulled him off Whitney.
"Knock it off, you guys," she whispered. She pulled at Clark's arm and dragged him away.
"What the hell are you doing?"
"Nothing," he answered breathily and walked away.
Whitney walked up to her. "What was that all about?"
She shook her head in response. "I have no idea."
"Are you two having a fight or something?" Whitney thought playing dumb and innocent with Lana was the best way to get on her good side.
"Or something…anyway, it's none of your business Whitney, so just stay out of it," she said coldly.
"Hey," he said quietly and looked away.
"Clark…I'm so sorry."
"Don't be." He stared straight ahead.
"But…I am."
"Why?"
"Because…I got drunk. And I don't know how it happened. But I've heard that I acted pretty… irrationally, and I just wanted to apologize."
"Fine," he said coolly. Lana began to worry. Clark was never this distant, but he'd also never been mad at her.
She touched his arm and he flinched.
"Clark, what is it?"
"You wouldn't understand Lana," he replied, brushing her off.
"I do understand. You're upset about Whitney…about what happened." She looked guiltily down at her feet. "I said I'm sorry. I know what it must have been like--."
"You don't know!" he yelled. Lana recoiled and stepped away from him. Instantly Clark regretted yelling at her. She looked almost afraid of him. He took a deep breath. "You think you understand, but you don't. You have no idea."
"Believe me," she said, her expression softening, "I wish that I did. I wish I could remember."
"No you don't," he said firmly. "I was there. I remember. And now…I can't be around you. Everything is different now."
"Clark, what…why are you doing this?"
"Because, it scares me, but I think you did get drunk on purpose that night. There isn't any other plausible explanation. I don't want it to be true. I want to believe you. I do, so bad. But I can't." He took one last look at her, and she thought she saw regret flash over his face briefly before he pushed past her and walked down the steps, leaving Lana standing alone in his loft, completely bewildered.
Lana knocked softly on Chloe Sullivan's door. When she opened it, surprise registered on her face.
"Lana…what are you doing here?"
"I'm sorry to just show up here but…well, I tried to talk to Pete, but…he's a guy and he gave me your address and I didn't know what else to do so--."
"Lana! Slow down. What happened?"
Lana sighed and walked in. Chloe led her upstairs to her bedroom. They sat down on her bed.
"Okay…spill. This is Clark related, isn't it?"
Lana nodded. "I realize that you're probably not the best one to go to when it comes to advice about Clark but, well…you know him the best. I tried talking to Pete but he got awkward and told me I would probably be better off talking to you. I don't think he wants to be involved in this."
'That makes two of us,' Chloe thought. "So, how can I help?"
"I don't really know," Lana confessed. "I went to talk to Clark, to apologize for what happened last night."
Chloe smiled. "How are you feeling, by the way?"
"Like hell, thanks for asking." Lana continued. "When I went to see Clark he seemed very distant and erratic. He actually yelled at me. I mean, I've known him for years, and Clark doesn't yell."
"No he doesn't." Chloe paused, and carefully measured her words. "Lana," she said patiently, "how would you feel if Clark kissed another girl?"
Lana looked uneasy. She thought about it for a second. "I'd be devastated," she said flatly. Chloe nodded.
"But Clark would never do that."
"No he wouldn't. And neither would you. At least that's what Clark believed. He adores you Lana. You practically walk on air to him. And when he saw you and Whitney at the dance, he freaked out. I think he's just afraid of losing you."
"Then why is he pushing me away?"
"Because…you hurt him. And he doesn't want to be reminded of that. Besides, your aunt practically said she'd have him arrested if he ever saw you again. He's probably just trying to protect you."
"Chloe…how do you know all this?"
"Clark's been my best friend for years. I see him, you know?" Chloe looked uncomfortable for a moment. "Lana? Do you want to see the tape?"
"What tape?"
"Of the Winter Formal. The media production class filmed it for the yearbook staff. I just happen to have a copy," she said mischievously.
Lana nodded, uncertain as to what she was getting herself into.
Chloe got up off the bed and retrieved a black VHS tape from her desk. She then popped it into the VCR next to her T.V. and pressed play. It began a few minutes before the king and queen announcement. Lana looked for herself on screen.
"You're not on yet," Chloe said, as if reading her mind. "You were getting wasted over at the refreshment table."
Lana glared at her. "Kidding! God, it was just a joke." Chloe started fast-forwarding.
"Since that's exactly what was happening, I don't really find it all that funny," Lana said.
"Okay look, if you didn't get drunk on purpose, then someone must have wanted you to make a fool out of yourself."
"Right," Lana agreed.
"Well, who would want to do that? Who would have the opportunity?"
"That's what I can't figure out. I suppose there are people that aren't exactly thrilled with me, because of the Whitney incident, but I don't know any one that was around that could have spiked my drink."
"Weird," Chloe observed.
"Definitely," Lana said, sighing.
Chloe stopped and motioned to the VCR. "Here we go," she said, and pressed play.
An image of Lana stumbling up to the stage appeared onscreen. Lana winced and forced herself to keep watching. Her speech came out muffled and garbled, but vaguely recognizable. And then there it was. The kiss. She had grabbed Whitney forcefully and made out with him in front of the entire school. Lana's stomach lurched. She suddenly felt overwhelmingly guilty. She knew that it wasn't really her fault, but the look on Clark's face when the camera panned towards him was heart breaking. He looked more shocked and surprised at first, like he couldn't believe what he was witnessing. Then his face transformed and he was hurt, betrayed by the one person he trusted most. She imagined that this was how he felt, because she pretended the situation was reversed and knew that it was what she'd be feeling. Seeing herself with Whitney was strange, disgusting and all too familiar. What was worse was that this time, it was her being the aggressor, and Whitney fighting her off. It sickened her to keep watching.
"Chloe, turn off the tape," she whispered.
Chloe looked over at Lana. She was pale and shaking, and holding her face in her hands.
"Well?" Chloe said.
"It was awful. I feel horrible. I have to go talk to him," she said urgently.
"I don't think that's such a good idea Lana. Give him a few days to cool off, okay? Trust me, it'll be easier that way."
"How do you know?" Lana asked.
"I just do," Chloe said simply.
Lana sighed and nodded. She got up and looked gratefully at Chloe. "Thanks. I know that this isn't an ideal situation."
"You mean you going out with the guy I'm in love with?" Chloe said sullenly.
"Yeah. Are you jealous?"
"Incredibly." She shrugged. "Nobody's perfect." 'Except you Lana,' she thought miserably. Chloe smiled broadly, keeping up the cheery façade. 'Hey, if Lana can fake it, so can I.'
"You're a good friend Chloe."
"Not to you. To Clark." This was Chloe's less than subtle way of reminding Lana that they were still on opposite sides. Lana took the hint, and showed herself out.
Monday mornings were hellish in and of themselves. This one was particularly bad. For Lana, it lasted an eternity. It had been three days since the dance and two since Clark had stopped speaking to her. Lana spent the remainder of her weekend avoiding her aunt. She went riding to clear her mind, but it had only made her head hurt worse, and cause her thoughts to go haywire. She ended up more confused about Clark then ever. She could understand why he didn't want to see her right now, but not why it bothered her so much.
At school people cracked jokes, which she ignored. Lunchtime provided her with an opportunity to go to the bathroom and change the white bandage on her head. Several people had asked her about it. She couldn't answer them, so had just said that she'd fallen over the weekend and hit her head. People smirked and walked away muttering stories to their friends about their worst hangovers. Lana wanted to protest, but saw no point, since everything that people were saying was true.
Her appetite was gone. She hadn't eaten in days, and had already lost five pounds. At first, the wicked hangover, although helped slightly by the pills the doctor had given her for the concussion, made her nauseous and unable to eat. Then, merely the thinking about Clark made her too tired to stop and think about food. Now, she had simply ceased to be hungry.
Clark Kent's week was not starting well either. His friends, although well meaning, were beginning to get on his nerves. Chloe and Pete, in attempt to be supportive, had started insulting Lana. They'd stopped after Clark got angry and told them to knock it off. It wasn't that he wasn't upset with Lana, it was just, well…she was Lana. In a strange way, now more than ever, he felt it up to him to protect her. He just didn't want anyone else to acknowledge it. Of course, Chloe had, asking him why he still felt he had to be loyal to her after what she'd done to him. Clark didn't have an answer for her.
It was passing period, after lunch. Clark had managed to avoid Lana all day, but his luck eventually ran out. She passed him in the hallway. She looked up and their eyes met for a brief moment before she lowered her head and kept walking. For an instant he wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her and make everything between them better. But the moment was gone, and so soon was his temporary insanity. Things were complicated now and nothing could change that.
Whitney jogged after Clark. He made a mental note as he approached him to remain calm and respectful, as much as he couldn't stand the guy. He swallowed his pride, walked up to Clark, and tapped him on the shoulder. Clark spun around.
"Whitney," he said uneasily.
"Look Kent," he rushed, "I just wanted to say I'm sorry for what happened at the dance."
Clark glared at him suspiciously. "Thanks, I guess."
Whitney continued. "Lana would never do it on purpose. Get drunk, I mean. What happened to her?"
"I'm not sure exactly. Why don't you ask one of your football buddies about it?"
"My guys had nothing to do with it Kent. I know everything that happens on my team."
"Except that you're not on the team anymore. Maybe some of the guys decided it would be funny to get your ex drunk. You know, payback for you getting kicked off the team."
"Or maybe your precious girlfriend--." Whitney stopped himself mid sentence. "Look, it wasn't anyone on the team. I would have heard about it. You think they'd pull something like that and then not even tell me? Subtlety isn't exactly their style, if you know what I mean."
Clark nodded. "Then you think that Lana…"
Whitney shook his head. "I know Lana. She wouldn't. She was my girlfriend for a long time. She doesn't smoke, she doesn't drink, and she doesn't do drugs. Well, you know her."
"I thought I did." Clark looked sad, and Whitney felt momentarily sorry for him.
"You shouldn't be so hard on Lana. Who knows what really happened? We probably never will. Just give her the benefit of the doubt."
"Whitney, why are you encouraging this?"
"Because, I made a mistake with Lana. Believe it or not, I did like her. I liked spending time with her. She's interesting and beautiful and special. But she's also uncharted territory, if you know what I mean. The guys wanted to know why I hadn't nailed her yet. They thought I was whipped," he said bitterly. Whitney shrugged unhappily. "I guess I felt like I had to prove them wrong. I never meant to hurt her; everything just happened so fast and got out of control. I'm glad you came over that night. I wasn't myself Clark. I feel guilty about it. I do. Besides I have a girlfriend, man. Megan was pretty pissed about it too. Trust me, I didn't initiate that kiss."
And Clark believed him. He smiled wanly. "If what you wanted was to be forgiven then fine. I forgive you. But I'm not the one you should be apologizing to." Clark started to walk away and spotted Lana staring at them, silent, her large, brown eyes pleading to him. He could tell she wanted to talk to him, but was showing considerable restraint. He looked back at Whitney and suddenly didn't feel right about the conversation. They hadn't spoken since Clark had thrown him out of Lana's room weeks earlier. This was not how he had imagined it. He owed Lana more. He turned around and grabbed Whitney from behind.
"Yeah, you know what Whitney, I changed my mind. I don't forgive you," he said shoving Whitney hard into the locker. Lana mouth opened wide in horror as Clark pinned him against the cold, hard metal.
"If you ever touch her again, or if I find out that you were in any way responsible for what happened on Saturday, I swear to god, I'll kick your ass."
Lana who was watching the altercation from ten feet away sighed angrily and pushed through the small crowd waiting for what they hoped would be a fight. Lana grabbed the back of Clark's shirt and pulled him off Whitney.
"Knock it off, you guys," she whispered. She pulled at Clark's arm and dragged him away.
"What the hell are you doing?"
"Nothing," he answered breathily and walked away.
Whitney walked up to her. "What was that all about?"
She shook her head in response. "I have no idea."
"Are you two having a fight or something?" Whitney thought playing dumb and innocent with Lana was the best way to get on her good side.
"Or something…anyway, it's none of your business Whitney, so just stay out of it," she said coldly.