Chapter 13

"Are my eyes deceiving me, or are you actually doing your homework without being handcuffed to your room?"

Clark looked up at his dad. You have to love parent jokes. Clark smiled anyway. "Don't have another heart attack, Dad—it's just math." Math was Clark's easiest subject. He always could add numbers faster than anyone he knew. His parents used to call him their calculator.

"I remember when you were little and your mom took you grocery shopping—you would add up how much everything cost and multiply it by how many things were inside the store. We had to bribe you with ice cream to get you to stop yelling out, 'There's $700 worth of bread!'"

"I just remember being in kindergarten, and adding up things faster than anyone else could. You and Mom told me to look at the other kid's paper and try to stay on their level."

"That's because your teacher saw you add so fast and wanted to make you into some kind of mathematical genius. You were so young then, we couldn't risk the publicity that would bring."

"Well it got the attention of everyone in the room when she kept pulling me aside and telling me I wasn't living up to my potential."

Jonathon laughed. "I remember—you didn't know what potential was, and when you tried to say it you ended up saying 'potato'. You came home crying and Mom would ask what was wrong, and you'd say, 'Miss Pratt said I'm not living up to my potatoes.'" Jonathon laughed again. "It took us a while to find out what you were trying to say."

Clark however wasn't laughing. It was just one more reminder of how different he was.

"Yeah. How... cute."

Jonathon saw Clark wasn't laughing with him. "Come on, son. You were five years old. Everyone does things like that when they're little."

"Dad, as much as I'm loving this conversation, you didn't come up here to talk about old times." His parents always started off a conversation with another conversation when they wanted to talk about something important. They thought they were being sneaky, but it really just gave Clark a heads up.

Jonathon didn't know how to begin. "How's your reading?"

"Dad..." Clark had to stop him. Normally he might have played along for a little while, but he had to get his homework done by six if he wanted to keep his promise to Lana.

Jonathon sat down on the arm of the couch. "Clark, your mom told me what was going on." Clark rolled his eyes. He hadn't meant to, and he wasn't doing it to disrespect him, but he knew where this conversation was going. Jonathon saw it and paused. "Clark, I just want you to think about how serious this is. Chloe's pretty well connected to people. You know what she did last time she was mad at you. Lana—who knows how she'll react."

"Dad, what if mom just found me?"

Jonathon didn't really know what he was getting at.

Clark tried again. "What if Mom never told you where she found me. What if she had just made up a story, and you never knew my biological heritage? Don't you think you'd have a right to know?"

"Clark, it's a little bit different..."

"They're my friends, Dad. They've known me almost as long as you have. I know there's risks, but if they're willing to take them, then..."

"I'm just saying that this might not go the way you hope it will. Clark, we didn't even tell your own grandfather because we know how big this could get."

"It's big right now. And Grandpa doesn't know me as well as my friends do. Mom told me that..."

Jonathon interrupted again. "Clark, I know how much you hate having to keep this secret, but..."

"I don't understand. I'm finally excited about something. That hasn't happened in a while. I finally know people who can help me be happy again. Share my burden. Why are you trying to keep me from that? Any other father would be happy that his son has friends like that."

"Any other father doesn't have a son that's from another planet." He tried to regain composure. "Clark, I know you try to think the best of people, and that's what I've always tried to teach you. But there are people in this world right now who would do anything to find who you really are. What you really are..."

Clark was still defensive. "It's not like people are looking for aliens, Dad." Even saying the word alien out loud sounded weird.

"Yes, they are! There are people out there, like Dr. Sawnn, who devote their lives to finding out about people like you. Smallville was hit by a bunch of ET rocks that are unlike anything known to man. You don't think that attracts the curiosity of scientists?"

Clark had to say something. He didn't want his dad to talk him out of anything anymore. He was tired of keeping this secret. He needed help. He wanted help. He hadn't done anything he wanted in a long time—why couldn't he have just this one thing? "Dad, Lana and Chloe are in danger by knowing me, not my secret." He was borrowing words from Lana, but as long as they worked he didn't mind. "The FBI would have gone after Pete even if he didn't know anything- just because they assumed that he would. They're in danger now, it seems more of a favor to them warning them what could happen then keeping them in the dark."

"I'm not trying to keep you alone in the dark, son. I'm trying to keep you safe."

Clark wanted to be mad at that, but he couldn't be. 'You can't protect me forever."

"But I can advise you as long as I'm living. Clark, if you want to tell them, I can't physically stop you, short of locking you in the barn with Kryptonite. But if you value my opinion at all, just remember that I think this could do more harm than good."

Clark just looked down. Jonathon knew he wasn't going to get any more words out of him. It was time to leave. Clark heard him walk down the steps of the old barn. He was mad. He was mad because part of him knew his dad was right. The other part didn't know what was right anymore. For the first time he could remember his parents were both pressuring him to do opposite things, and he couldn't obey one without hurting the other. Now what? Clark had more thinking to do. After math—math first... then thinking. He really had to get this homework done.