Crush
"…and maybe it's not out of the realm of possibility that she's telling the truth. I mean, she's the only nanny we ever had who didn't sleep with Dad. That's got to say something for her moral values, doesn't it?"
"You really believe her version of the story?"
"You really believe Dad's?" Silence. "Look, I don't know. All I know is, you got to see Mom those last few months and I didn't, and I managed to get over hating you for that, so you should try to forgive Pamela for scramming."
"Why?"
"Because it's what people do when this much time goes by. She told you she didn't want to go, she told you why Dad made her, and from what you said she at least sounded pretty convincing. I mean, I know it's one thing to be angry, but it's another thing to be angry for ten years."
"How do you know why Dad made her leave? I didn't tell you about that yet."
"I…"
"How long have you been talking to her?"
Silence.
"How long?"
"Since she left, Lex. What was I supposed to do, just cut her out of my life like you did? She cared about you, she cared about us, which was more than Dad did! I—"
Silence.
"Lex?"
Silence.
"Lex, are you there?"
Silence.
*
"Um, hi."
"Hello. Clark Kent of the ill-fitting suit, right?"
"Yeah. Lilly of the mysterious connections to Smallville."
"How are you doing? Sit down."
"Oh, uh. Thanks. I'm doing pretty good. How are you?"
"Pretty good."
"That's, um. Good. So, what are you reading?"
"I'm embarrassed to admit it, but—"
"Men Are from Mars, Women Are from Venus."
"Your disbelieving expression says it all."
"Does that actually work?"
"I haven't had a chance to find out yet. Why, you looking for a cure-all for the lonely of heart?"
"I don't know about that, but I'm, uh, I have a little problem with girls."
"That's easy to believe."
"What do you mean?"
"Relax. I haven't heard any rumors or anything. It's just, your manners and… appearance… lead me to believe that there might sometimes be difficulties."
"Oh. Did I—I mean, do I seem kind of clumsy around girls or something?"
"You're a little uncertain, I think. But I'm guessing you're uncertain around guys, too."
"I'm pretty much uncertain around everybody."
"My brother's the same way. But he covers that by looking like he's confident and he knows what he's doing. Maybe you should try that."
"Pretend I know what I'm doing?"
"Hmm. Maybe not. You don't lie easily, I'll bet."
"Uh…"
"Don't answer that. Well, I've read up to chapter 13, so maybe I can help. Tell me your problem."
"Oh—no, it's not that interesting."
"You'd be surprised what I find interesting. Come on, it's your chance to unburden yourself to a total stranger. That's practically what coffee houses are for."
"It's just—you know how you think, when you don't have anybody who's, like, interested in you? You think, well, maybe I'm just not that cool, or whatever. And then you suddenly have, like, more than one person interested in you, but you're still thinking, maybe I'm not that interesting, and what if they find out? Then I'll be alone again."
"So you have more than one person interested in you?"
"Yeah. Right now."
"For the moment."
"Yeah."
"You think if just one of these people were interested in you, then you would think you were good enough?"
"I… I don't know. I guess it would depend on which one of them it was. I mean, it's not like I don't like them both, a lot, they're both really great, it's just that now it feels like I've gotta choose, and there's all this pressure to make the right choice or whatever, and I don't know what it is. And I'm tired of everybody treating me like I'm a moron because I don't know how to choose."
"So basically, there are these two great people you know, and they both like you as friends, but they also both like you as more than friends, and you're… irritated by it?"
"No, it's not that—"
"I hope not. Come on, Clark, most guys your age should be so lucky as to get to choose."
"Well—"
"Here. I think you need this more than I do."
"I don't know if it'll help."
"It can't hurt. Besides, I don't think they have anything in there for my particular problems."
"Why not?"
"Because the three most important men in my life are all egomaniacal geniuses bent on world domination."
"Oh. Do you, um, want to talk about it?"
Pause. "Judging by the haunted, terrified expression in your eyes, I doubt very much if you'd want to listen. No, it's okay, Clark. I'm just teasing you. I… there's not really anything to talk about. For me. I don't even really know why I'm here. One of the… geniuses comes here often, and I guess I was hoping I'd get a chance to talk to him face to face. But I don't think he's coming."
"He comes here? Maybe I know him."
"I'll bet you do. Anyway, read the book and see if it helps. I'm gonna skedaddle. Oh—you never told me who these people were? Friends, classmates?"
"Oh. Two girls in my grade. I've been friends with them for a while—well, one of them I've been friends with for a while, the other girl I've known for a long time and we're just getting to be friends. So it's a little weird."
"And that's it?"
"What do you mean?"
"I hope you don't take this the wrong way, Clark, but I have the sneaking suspicion that there's at least one other person interested in you. Catch you later."
*
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Jesus fucking—what the hell are you doing here?"
Pause. "It's my house, too."
"You never come here! I thought you were in Smallville, I drove all the way down there today! Jesus, my heart's in my mouth."
"Oh. Sorry."
"It's fine. I just didn't expect you here. Um, why didn't I tell you what?"
"She's got cancer."
"Oh. That. Yes, she does."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"You didn't really let me finish a sentence."
"She's going to die. It's the same kind that killed Mom, you know that?"
"Yes."
"I wanted to hate her for longer than this. I wanted to hate her until she died."
"And that's not going to be long enough, is it."
"I think it's going to be too long."
"So go see her. She's at Metro U tonight, getting poked and prodded. I was going to go over, but you should probably go instead."
"We could go together, if you want."
"You've got more catching up to do."
*
"Hello?"
"Hey."
"Hey. Did you go?"
"I'm still here. She's sleeping for a while."
"Oh."
"You don't have to whisper, I'm out in the lobby."
"So did you talk?"
"Yeah. I—"
"You're welcome."
"Well, I wasn't going to say thank you."
"What were you going to say?"
"We talked about you for a little while."
"Uh-huh."
"Did you really hate me?"
"Right after Mom died, you mean?"
"Yeah."
"Of course I hated you. You got to be there, you were… I mean, I had to stay with Grandma, you know how much that sucked?"
"I'm beginning to have an idea."
"Dad didn't even want me to visit. I barely got a chance to say goodbye, and you were there every day, you got to—yeah. I hated you a lot, for a while."
"What happened?"
"What happened what?"
"You don't hate me now. I don't think. Why'd you change your mind?"
"Because of Pamela. She kept telling me all these stories about Mom and you, and how much you guys missed me, and how mean Dad was for making me stay out there all the way, and she would let Mom talk to me on the phone every night and—and I got over it."
"Oh."
"Mostly because I am in all ways a superior human being to you."
"Well, of course."
"But Pam helped. And maybe you should just kind of… when you're mad, and people try to stop making you mad, you never really stop and think about why they're doing it. It's not because they want you to stop being mad at them, or at least sometimes it isn't, it's because they don't want you to hurt any more. And if there's somebody who cares enough about you to try to—I don't know what I'm trying to say."
"I do. I think. You're not very good with these kinds of speeches, are you?"
"Not incredibly, no."
"Well. Okay, thanks."
"You're welcome, Bumpy."
"Stop calling me that."
"That's never gonna happen."
"I know where you live."
"Whatever."
"I'll call you later."
"Okay. Love you."
"Me, too."