Part 3
Whitney tossed his folded up jacket into his locker. He grabbed his books and jammed them into his backpack before turning back to Chloe. "Ready?"
Chloe nodded. "Did you remember to bring your own pencils this time?"
Whitney grinned and said in a voice not his own, "Rule one of any class, Mr Fordman: Bring a writing instrument."
"Shhhh!" Chloe giggled. "You're going to get in trouble again if you don't stop doing impressions of teachers you know aren't too happy with you."
"I wouldn't have taken art class if your dad didn't ask my mom to. Seriously, Chloe, you're old enough to go hunting in the fields for who knows what and your dad doesn't trust you to stay in school for a late class?"
"You think that's not something I've asked myself for like a billion trillion times?" Chloe retorted.
"Don't look now, Chloe, but Lana Lang is sniffling at her locker."
Of course Chloe Sullivan would look. That phrase should be scratched out of everyone's vocabulary. When you tell a person not to look, the person will absolutely want to look. Whitney sighed in exasperation when Chloe made a beeline for Lana. He followed, dragging his feet behind him.
"Lana," Chloe exclaimed, "are you all right?"
"She's crying," Whitney muttered to update her.
Chloe shushed him again. Lana removed her pink flowered handkerchief from her face and looked at Chloe and Whitney with moist eyes. Whitney noted that her thick dark eyelashes were clumped together because of her tears. Hot damn. Lana Lang really was pretty. He hadn't really noticed that before, only heard it from his teammates. Whitney tuned in to the girl's conversation again.
"I just-I just-want you to know, Ch-Chloe. I don't-don't blame you! It's all my-fault. People leave me. People I love-leave me!"
Chleo resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Clark's acting like an immature brat, Lana. He's going to realize what he's losing and come back to you."
"I know!" Lana cried. "He's gonna-gonna know that it's a stupid deci- decision."
'Well that wasn't insulting at all,' Chloe thought wryly.
And then Lana threw her arms around Chloe and sobbed. Chloe returned the hug and patted the other girl's back.
Whitney was captivated by the sight. Chloe Sullivan and Lana Lang locked in a firm embrace. The context was just going to dampen the rocking sight, so he forced the reasons to fade. A few seconds later, he noticed the change around him. Whitney glanced around to see jocks, science geeks, math wizards, music freaks and even some girls gaping at the two. Whitney looked back again.
Ah, there it was. That was what he couldn't put his finger on earlier. Lana was standing on the tips of her toes, making her dark rose skirt hike up at the back of her thighs. Chloe's blouse bunched up, showing her white stomach. That was not a skimpy blouse that she was wearing. Whitney wondered why Chloe's tummy showed. He followed the crumpled line of the blouse and saw that her breasts were mashed against Lana's, thus folding the front of her blouse between them.
Whitney moved to stand in front of Chloe and Lana and turned slowly to glare at the audience. He fixed his stare on the jocks, who after several minutes recognized his look. His teammates then facilitated in dispersing the crowd.
Whitney touched Chloe's shoulder. "We have to get to class."
Chloe pulled away from Lana and smiled. "That's right."
"Hey Lana," Whitney said as a form of goodbye, "bummer about Kent."
"Ummm. Yeah," the cheerleader responded. "Thanks, I guess."
~~
"Please turn to a clean sketch area," the instructor said from the front. "Take your pencils. Rule one of any class."
Whitney turned to Chloe with raised eyebrows. He noted that Chloe's grin was a little bit sad. He looked around him and found out why.
A knock sounded on the door. Mr Patchett looked at the glass door and saw the principal's administrative assistant. "Silence while I attend to this. Breathe deeply. Feel the spirits of the great artists of history course through your veins." Mr Pratchett went outside.
Whitney walked over to Chloe's seat. Chloe shook her head. "Does he have to say that every day? Seriously, Whit, I am freaked out."
"Chloe Sullivan freaked out? Impossible!"
Chloe smiled. "What are you doing here? Better get back to your seat or Mr Pratchett will have a reason to breathe down your neck again."
He chucked her chin teasingly. "I came by to tell you to smile, Chloe. Having Luthor absent doesn't make it a bad class."
She stuck her tongue out quickly and sat up straight when Mr Pratchett walked in again. Whitney was frozen on the spot until Chloe elbowed him. He sat down on half of Chloe's seat. "Ugh. As if I won't fall off!"
"You and your big hips," Whitney whispered.
"It seems that I am needed for a very important meeting. There is no substitute teacher available so I will instead give you your special assignments. You will create any art piece. I give you the freedom to pick your medium and your theme. But you will work in pairs."
Whitney nodded. Of course he and Chloe will be partners.
"I have taken the liberty of assigning you to your partners. We will be working with the morning art class so some of you will be assigned to students from that class."
"Great," Chloe muttered. Clark, Lana and Pete were in that class. With her luck, she will end up with Clark and do a dance away from him every time they need to work.
"You will work on this in your free time. Some of you have more than the others due to misbehavior." Mr Pratchett looked at Whitney again.
"I swear, Whit, this guy has a crush on you."
Whitney made a gagging sound.
"I will read out the names and leave the arrangements up to you. Lian Chan and Jenny Goldberg. Mary Jameson and Alfred Wheeler. Lana Lang and Pete Ross."
"Mr Pratchett, those are all students from the other class!"
"I'm sorry. Moving on. Clark Kent and Whitney Fordman."
"Awww hell!"
"Have fun, Whitney," Chloe murmured.
"Chloe Sullivan and Lucas Luthor."
Her jaw literally dropped. Chloe's breath stopped. She blacked out. Seriously. Whitney had to break her spine hitting her on the back.
"Oh my God," she murmured. "Oh my God."
"Don't hyperventilate."
"My grades are so dead."
"You're not happy? I thought you liked the guy."
"Lucas Luthor is cute but I will not trust him with my grades, Whitney! The guy doesn't need to study. He said that himself! He's attending school for the sake of attending! Why does he have to work on an art project when he has billions of dollars waiting until he turns eighteen!"
Mr Pratchett left the room. The class stood up to leave. Chloe and Whitney were left in the room. Chloe slid her pens back inside her bag.
"Are we going to the interview Lionel Luthor now?"
"Yes."
Whitney took a deep breath. "We've got to postpone that. I have to run after Mr Pratchett. I've gotta change partners, Chloe."
"Oh!" Chloe nodded in understanding. "You should. I don't want you to suffer being stuck with Clark. I'll see you later."
"Yeah. Don't leave without me," he cautioned her. "Your dad will kill me."
"I wouldn't dare." She waved him out the door and then checked her bag for her tape recorder, her notebook, her pen and the list of questions she was going to ask Lionel Luthor. "Sucker!"
Whitney tossed his folded up jacket into his locker. He grabbed his books and jammed them into his backpack before turning back to Chloe. "Ready?"
Chloe nodded. "Did you remember to bring your own pencils this time?"
Whitney grinned and said in a voice not his own, "Rule one of any class, Mr Fordman: Bring a writing instrument."
"Shhhh!" Chloe giggled. "You're going to get in trouble again if you don't stop doing impressions of teachers you know aren't too happy with you."
"I wouldn't have taken art class if your dad didn't ask my mom to. Seriously, Chloe, you're old enough to go hunting in the fields for who knows what and your dad doesn't trust you to stay in school for a late class?"
"You think that's not something I've asked myself for like a billion trillion times?" Chloe retorted.
"Don't look now, Chloe, but Lana Lang is sniffling at her locker."
Of course Chloe Sullivan would look. That phrase should be scratched out of everyone's vocabulary. When you tell a person not to look, the person will absolutely want to look. Whitney sighed in exasperation when Chloe made a beeline for Lana. He followed, dragging his feet behind him.
"Lana," Chloe exclaimed, "are you all right?"
"She's crying," Whitney muttered to update her.
Chloe shushed him again. Lana removed her pink flowered handkerchief from her face and looked at Chloe and Whitney with moist eyes. Whitney noted that her thick dark eyelashes were clumped together because of her tears. Hot damn. Lana Lang really was pretty. He hadn't really noticed that before, only heard it from his teammates. Whitney tuned in to the girl's conversation again.
"I just-I just-want you to know, Ch-Chloe. I don't-don't blame you! It's all my-fault. People leave me. People I love-leave me!"
Chleo resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Clark's acting like an immature brat, Lana. He's going to realize what he's losing and come back to you."
"I know!" Lana cried. "He's gonna-gonna know that it's a stupid deci- decision."
'Well that wasn't insulting at all,' Chloe thought wryly.
And then Lana threw her arms around Chloe and sobbed. Chloe returned the hug and patted the other girl's back.
Whitney was captivated by the sight. Chloe Sullivan and Lana Lang locked in a firm embrace. The context was just going to dampen the rocking sight, so he forced the reasons to fade. A few seconds later, he noticed the change around him. Whitney glanced around to see jocks, science geeks, math wizards, music freaks and even some girls gaping at the two. Whitney looked back again.
Ah, there it was. That was what he couldn't put his finger on earlier. Lana was standing on the tips of her toes, making her dark rose skirt hike up at the back of her thighs. Chloe's blouse bunched up, showing her white stomach. That was not a skimpy blouse that she was wearing. Whitney wondered why Chloe's tummy showed. He followed the crumpled line of the blouse and saw that her breasts were mashed against Lana's, thus folding the front of her blouse between them.
Whitney moved to stand in front of Chloe and Lana and turned slowly to glare at the audience. He fixed his stare on the jocks, who after several minutes recognized his look. His teammates then facilitated in dispersing the crowd.
Whitney touched Chloe's shoulder. "We have to get to class."
Chloe pulled away from Lana and smiled. "That's right."
"Hey Lana," Whitney said as a form of goodbye, "bummer about Kent."
"Ummm. Yeah," the cheerleader responded. "Thanks, I guess."
~~
"Please turn to a clean sketch area," the instructor said from the front. "Take your pencils. Rule one of any class."
Whitney turned to Chloe with raised eyebrows. He noted that Chloe's grin was a little bit sad. He looked around him and found out why.
A knock sounded on the door. Mr Patchett looked at the glass door and saw the principal's administrative assistant. "Silence while I attend to this. Breathe deeply. Feel the spirits of the great artists of history course through your veins." Mr Pratchett went outside.
Whitney walked over to Chloe's seat. Chloe shook her head. "Does he have to say that every day? Seriously, Whit, I am freaked out."
"Chloe Sullivan freaked out? Impossible!"
Chloe smiled. "What are you doing here? Better get back to your seat or Mr Pratchett will have a reason to breathe down your neck again."
He chucked her chin teasingly. "I came by to tell you to smile, Chloe. Having Luthor absent doesn't make it a bad class."
She stuck her tongue out quickly and sat up straight when Mr Pratchett walked in again. Whitney was frozen on the spot until Chloe elbowed him. He sat down on half of Chloe's seat. "Ugh. As if I won't fall off!"
"You and your big hips," Whitney whispered.
"It seems that I am needed for a very important meeting. There is no substitute teacher available so I will instead give you your special assignments. You will create any art piece. I give you the freedom to pick your medium and your theme. But you will work in pairs."
Whitney nodded. Of course he and Chloe will be partners.
"I have taken the liberty of assigning you to your partners. We will be working with the morning art class so some of you will be assigned to students from that class."
"Great," Chloe muttered. Clark, Lana and Pete were in that class. With her luck, she will end up with Clark and do a dance away from him every time they need to work.
"You will work on this in your free time. Some of you have more than the others due to misbehavior." Mr Pratchett looked at Whitney again.
"I swear, Whit, this guy has a crush on you."
Whitney made a gagging sound.
"I will read out the names and leave the arrangements up to you. Lian Chan and Jenny Goldberg. Mary Jameson and Alfred Wheeler. Lana Lang and Pete Ross."
"Mr Pratchett, those are all students from the other class!"
"I'm sorry. Moving on. Clark Kent and Whitney Fordman."
"Awww hell!"
"Have fun, Whitney," Chloe murmured.
"Chloe Sullivan and Lucas Luthor."
Her jaw literally dropped. Chloe's breath stopped. She blacked out. Seriously. Whitney had to break her spine hitting her on the back.
"Oh my God," she murmured. "Oh my God."
"Don't hyperventilate."
"My grades are so dead."
"You're not happy? I thought you liked the guy."
"Lucas Luthor is cute but I will not trust him with my grades, Whitney! The guy doesn't need to study. He said that himself! He's attending school for the sake of attending! Why does he have to work on an art project when he has billions of dollars waiting until he turns eighteen!"
Mr Pratchett left the room. The class stood up to leave. Chloe and Whitney were left in the room. Chloe slid her pens back inside her bag.
"Are we going to the interview Lionel Luthor now?"
"Yes."
Whitney took a deep breath. "We've got to postpone that. I have to run after Mr Pratchett. I've gotta change partners, Chloe."
"Oh!" Chloe nodded in understanding. "You should. I don't want you to suffer being stuck with Clark. I'll see you later."
"Yeah. Don't leave without me," he cautioned her. "Your dad will kill me."
"I wouldn't dare." She waved him out the door and then checked her bag for her tape recorder, her notebook, her pen and the list of questions she was going to ask Lionel Luthor. "Sucker!"