When Monday reared it's ugly head at last, Clark felt like he just wanted to pull the covers over his head and suffiently beat his alarm clock to a plup. However either option, while both thoroughly appealing, would only succeed in making his problems worse. 'Like that's possible,' the thought echoing in his groggy mind. So grudgingly, Clark gently clicked the alarm off and heaved himself out of bed before his mother could climb the stairs and snatch the covers away--a much faster and colder way to rouse him.
Rubbing his eyes and stiffling a yawn, he stepped into the hall and down to the bathroom. Though not yet fully awake, he pulled the shower door closed and pumped the water on, letting the drops beat on him with an extreme amount of water pressure as the warmth flooded through him. Gently, the steam crept over the mirror and the heat slowly washed the leftover sleep out of his senses, pleasantly waking him without a jarring effect. After a brief ten minutes of this ecstacy, he sighed, bracing himself to leave the comfort of the heated bathroom and face the sneaking chill in the air of the house. After hastily toweling himself dry, he did just that.
Completing his normal normal routine, Clark vaulted himself down the stairs, greeted by the wafting smell of bacon and eggs. He seated himself and hmm'ed his approval along with his dad, greedily devouring the massive portion Martha lay out in front of him.
"Slow down there, Clark, that's all I've got this morning!" Martha warned with a smile twitching on her lips, warrenting only a grunt in reply. Granting the clock a sidelong glance and doing the same with the window, she stated, "Never mind, you don't have time. The bus is coming down the road just now and you can't afford to miss it." That got his attention. Heaping one last fork load in his mouth, he kissed his mothers cheek, slapped Jonathan on the back, and scurried out the door. He wasn't fast enough to miss the call of "No powers!" from the kitchen, a jolting reminder in itself.
'Today, it's just a normal day and you have to be just a normal, everyday guy. So act that way,' he lectured himself silently, sliding up the bus stop just in time to meet it there. Pulling himself up the stairs, he climb around the driver with a friendly nod and made his way to the back of the bus determined not to let anything bother him or let on a hint of the thoughts crossing his mind. Smiling to Pete, he was about to slid into the seat next to him when Chloe's head appeared from below, a triumpant grin playing across her lips and an obviously dropped pencil in her hand. Opening her mouth to say somthing to Pete, she noticed Clark standing in the aisle, the grin fading away as he dropped into the seat behind them. 'Okay, maybe this isn't going to be as easy as I thought.'
Chloe had inwardly sighed the moment she'd seen Clark. This is what she'd been avoiding, seeing him again, and now the moment was here and it was even more awkward than she'd imagined. Which was not an easy feat, considering she'd spent all weekend building her deciet up in her mind, and with her wild imagination, played out every scene from Clark refusing to look at her to beating her up. She knew the latter wouldn't happen, but in a disturbing sort of way, she knew it would make feel better. She wanted Clark to make her pay for what she'd done to him, but it was apparent he had to take the damned high road. 'The silent treatment is more his style anyway. He's quite and mysterious enough as it is,' she told herself, cursing that she hadn't expected this.
While Pete greeted Clark, obviously unnerved by the tension between the two, she murmurred a nearly unaudible hello. Clark nodded curtly in response, the expression on his face and look in his eyes mirroring hers with an uncanny likeness. Shifting his gaze between the two, Pete stared, finally settling it on her. "Okay, I give up. What's the deal here?" he finally enquired.
Clark and Chloe shared a look, his silent method of telling her to deal with it, he wasn't going to. He gazed out the window at the crops flying by, asking himself why he hadn't just decided to run and avoid this confrontation all together. 'No powers remember,' he jeered himself, frustrated by the whole curcumstance.
Cursing herself, she responded to her friends question. "I, uh, I mean, we, well, we kinda had a fight. And I kinda caused it," she explained, visibly jeered by the question and uncomfortable with the topic.
"Riight, okay," Pete said, joining Clark in his search of the fields. "I'm going to assume it's best not to ask for now?"
"Correctamundo," Chloe replied, suddenly fascinated by the scuffed floor.
And that was how the ride to school basically went. Silence between three of the best friends around, and a lot of avoided gazes. 'So this is how he's dealing with it?' she wondered, 'Silence? Not less than I deserve, but still...' Reaching school was divine, a chance for her to split from the scene and get to higher ground. Namely, the Torch office, her haven from all things agonizing. And today, that thing was herself.
Walking into school, Clark was greeted by a lot of high fives and many pats on the back. Evidently, the whole school was abuzz with the news of the bus accident. Ordinarily, attention made him nervous and flustered. Today, it was almost unbearable, rehashing the anger and annoyance at himself for drawing attention at a time like this. In fact, Pete seemed to be the only in dark on the whole incident, treating Clark's hero-worship greetings with a raised eyebrow. "You're just full of secrets today, aren't you?"
"Oh, I sort of helped a bus-load of teachers after an accident on Saturday. Spent Sunday dodging reporters," was the only response he supplied, looking at the ground and speeding off toward his locker, making Pete jog to keep up, though not deterring him in the least.
"'Sort of', as in single-handedly saving the day because of that Clark Kent luck of yours?"
"Yeah, that kind of 'sort of'. The kind of 'sort of' that means the guidance counciler is all over this one," Clark said, unamused by the whole situation. Unlike Pete, who was now chuckling.
"Nice, Clark, very nice. A physcologist intersted in you. That's just what you need."
"You're not kidding. Especially not after Chloe and what I found in the wreckage she left me," Clark responded cryptically, snapping Pete from his giggles and turning him stone-faced in a second. There was a bitter urgency in his tone that grabbed Pete's attention, setting off in his inner alarm bells at full volume.
"How bad is it?" A frown crept and stuck on his face, making him lower his voice and glance almost unperceptively to either side.
"Bad enough I can't say here."
Pete frowned, not liking the situation. "Lunch?" he said hopefully, dying to know what was up that could be so bad. At this rate, his imagination would keep him occupied all day, a small dose of dread settling in his stomach
"Not at school. My loft, 4:00. Deal?" Clark's face was so serious that the grin that spread across it seemed alien to the mood that had claimed the pair. "I'll beat you at basketball afterward, if you're in the losing mood," he teased.
Smiling again, Pete accepted the challenge, the dread in his gut slowly ebbing away. The boys departed to opposite sides of the school with a high five the only signal of good-bye between them.
From down the hall, Mr. Jones watched Clark walk off. Excusing himself from his tedious conversation with Mrs. Appleton, he set off down the hall after the teen, refusing to loose sight of him in the crowd despite the alarming number of toes he trod on along the way. It took him all of a minute to catch up with Clarks long, sure strides and break him from his thoughts. 'I wonder what's so captivating,' he mused, deciding that this afternoon, he'd have to find out. He was accustomed to knowing what others were thinking, even if they had no intention of telling him. 'They all break in the end,' he thought happily. 'Clark Kent is not different from one anyone else.'
More action on the way soon.
Thoughts? Feelings? Rant on.
Rubbing his eyes and stiffling a yawn, he stepped into the hall and down to the bathroom. Though not yet fully awake, he pulled the shower door closed and pumped the water on, letting the drops beat on him with an extreme amount of water pressure as the warmth flooded through him. Gently, the steam crept over the mirror and the heat slowly washed the leftover sleep out of his senses, pleasantly waking him without a jarring effect. After a brief ten minutes of this ecstacy, he sighed, bracing himself to leave the comfort of the heated bathroom and face the sneaking chill in the air of the house. After hastily toweling himself dry, he did just that.
Completing his normal normal routine, Clark vaulted himself down the stairs, greeted by the wafting smell of bacon and eggs. He seated himself and hmm'ed his approval along with his dad, greedily devouring the massive portion Martha lay out in front of him.
"Slow down there, Clark, that's all I've got this morning!" Martha warned with a smile twitching on her lips, warrenting only a grunt in reply. Granting the clock a sidelong glance and doing the same with the window, she stated, "Never mind, you don't have time. The bus is coming down the road just now and you can't afford to miss it." That got his attention. Heaping one last fork load in his mouth, he kissed his mothers cheek, slapped Jonathan on the back, and scurried out the door. He wasn't fast enough to miss the call of "No powers!" from the kitchen, a jolting reminder in itself.
'Today, it's just a normal day and you have to be just a normal, everyday guy. So act that way,' he lectured himself silently, sliding up the bus stop just in time to meet it there. Pulling himself up the stairs, he climb around the driver with a friendly nod and made his way to the back of the bus determined not to let anything bother him or let on a hint of the thoughts crossing his mind. Smiling to Pete, he was about to slid into the seat next to him when Chloe's head appeared from below, a triumpant grin playing across her lips and an obviously dropped pencil in her hand. Opening her mouth to say somthing to Pete, she noticed Clark standing in the aisle, the grin fading away as he dropped into the seat behind them. 'Okay, maybe this isn't going to be as easy as I thought.'
Chloe had inwardly sighed the moment she'd seen Clark. This is what she'd been avoiding, seeing him again, and now the moment was here and it was even more awkward than she'd imagined. Which was not an easy feat, considering she'd spent all weekend building her deciet up in her mind, and with her wild imagination, played out every scene from Clark refusing to look at her to beating her up. She knew the latter wouldn't happen, but in a disturbing sort of way, she knew it would make feel better. She wanted Clark to make her pay for what she'd done to him, but it was apparent he had to take the damned high road. 'The silent treatment is more his style anyway. He's quite and mysterious enough as it is,' she told herself, cursing that she hadn't expected this.
While Pete greeted Clark, obviously unnerved by the tension between the two, she murmurred a nearly unaudible hello. Clark nodded curtly in response, the expression on his face and look in his eyes mirroring hers with an uncanny likeness. Shifting his gaze between the two, Pete stared, finally settling it on her. "Okay, I give up. What's the deal here?" he finally enquired.
Clark and Chloe shared a look, his silent method of telling her to deal with it, he wasn't going to. He gazed out the window at the crops flying by, asking himself why he hadn't just decided to run and avoid this confrontation all together. 'No powers remember,' he jeered himself, frustrated by the whole curcumstance.
Cursing herself, she responded to her friends question. "I, uh, I mean, we, well, we kinda had a fight. And I kinda caused it," she explained, visibly jeered by the question and uncomfortable with the topic.
"Riight, okay," Pete said, joining Clark in his search of the fields. "I'm going to assume it's best not to ask for now?"
"Correctamundo," Chloe replied, suddenly fascinated by the scuffed floor.
And that was how the ride to school basically went. Silence between three of the best friends around, and a lot of avoided gazes. 'So this is how he's dealing with it?' she wondered, 'Silence? Not less than I deserve, but still...' Reaching school was divine, a chance for her to split from the scene and get to higher ground. Namely, the Torch office, her haven from all things agonizing. And today, that thing was herself.
Walking into school, Clark was greeted by a lot of high fives and many pats on the back. Evidently, the whole school was abuzz with the news of the bus accident. Ordinarily, attention made him nervous and flustered. Today, it was almost unbearable, rehashing the anger and annoyance at himself for drawing attention at a time like this. In fact, Pete seemed to be the only in dark on the whole incident, treating Clark's hero-worship greetings with a raised eyebrow. "You're just full of secrets today, aren't you?"
"Oh, I sort of helped a bus-load of teachers after an accident on Saturday. Spent Sunday dodging reporters," was the only response he supplied, looking at the ground and speeding off toward his locker, making Pete jog to keep up, though not deterring him in the least.
"'Sort of', as in single-handedly saving the day because of that Clark Kent luck of yours?"
"Yeah, that kind of 'sort of'. The kind of 'sort of' that means the guidance counciler is all over this one," Clark said, unamused by the whole situation. Unlike Pete, who was now chuckling.
"Nice, Clark, very nice. A physcologist intersted in you. That's just what you need."
"You're not kidding. Especially not after Chloe and what I found in the wreckage she left me," Clark responded cryptically, snapping Pete from his giggles and turning him stone-faced in a second. There was a bitter urgency in his tone that grabbed Pete's attention, setting off in his inner alarm bells at full volume.
"How bad is it?" A frown crept and stuck on his face, making him lower his voice and glance almost unperceptively to either side.
"Bad enough I can't say here."
Pete frowned, not liking the situation. "Lunch?" he said hopefully, dying to know what was up that could be so bad. At this rate, his imagination would keep him occupied all day, a small dose of dread settling in his stomach
"Not at school. My loft, 4:00. Deal?" Clark's face was so serious that the grin that spread across it seemed alien to the mood that had claimed the pair. "I'll beat you at basketball afterward, if you're in the losing mood," he teased.
Smiling again, Pete accepted the challenge, the dread in his gut slowly ebbing away. The boys departed to opposite sides of the school with a high five the only signal of good-bye between them.
From down the hall, Mr. Jones watched Clark walk off. Excusing himself from his tedious conversation with Mrs. Appleton, he set off down the hall after the teen, refusing to loose sight of him in the crowd despite the alarming number of toes he trod on along the way. It took him all of a minute to catch up with Clarks long, sure strides and break him from his thoughts. 'I wonder what's so captivating,' he mused, deciding that this afternoon, he'd have to find out. He was accustomed to knowing what others were thinking, even if they had no intention of telling him. 'They all break in the end,' he thought happily. 'Clark Kent is not different from one anyone else.'
More action on the way soon.
Thoughts? Feelings? Rant on.