Ch. 13

Clark went home right after school. It was February 13th—the second most depressing night for a single person. Already Clark was trying to forget what tomorrow was. Everyone he had feelings for he had pushed so far away. He could barely remember what it was like to be in a non-hostile environment.

"Did you ask your girlfriend to the dance today?" Clark turned around. He hadn't heard William walk up, meaning he was probably always there.

Clark smiled. "She's not my girlfriend."

William stood up. "Clark, I'm going to do you a favor. You don't have to tell me anything tonight—just go to that Statue of Liberty thing you go to…"

"The Torch," Clark interrupted.

William pretended he didn't hear. "And ask that girl to the dance."

Clark looked confused. "I thought you didn't like Chloe."

"Well… I can't stand to see you mope around here night after night. You're young. You shouldn't mope around about life until you're in your 30's. Take it from someone who knows—enjoy what time you have."

Clark looked down. How could he make his grandfather understand? "I'd like to, Granddad, but I can't. I can't do much of anything anymore."

"You can do it, Clark," William answered. "You just can't do it alone." Clark froze. Maybe he was right. William began again. "If only there was a smart young girl with the ability to understand what you were going through." Clark looked at William. "Or at least part of it." Clark stood still for a while, debating. "I'm going to bed. Your mother's at the Talon—your father's feeding the horses. I don't want you in this house walking around—the floors are so old—they creak. It sounds like you're killing a monkey every time you walk up the stairs." Clark knew where William was going with this. "In other words, get out or I can't sleep. And you wouldn't want to keep a sick old man awake, now would you?"

Clark smiled. He was beginning to appreciate his grandfather's sense of humor, and his forwardness. He wished he could be forward about things with the people he cared about.

Chloe looked up as she heard someone entering the room. "So—you are alive."

Clark stopped, wondering if he was wanted. "Yeah. I'm sorry I haven't been around so much."

Chloe gave him as little attention as possible without actually ignoring him. "It's not like I expected you to be."

"Chloe—can we talk?"

Chloe was still working. "I don't know—I'm pretty capable of doing it, but you seem to have this phobia."

"Chloe…"

"You know—I'm not doing this anymore. If you want to talk to me, talk to me. If you want to dodge a bullet, then do me and everyone else a favor and just stay out of my way."

Clark looked around, hoping for an idea of what to say. He saw a flier on the wall. "You going to the dance?"

Chloe looked at him like, "you can't possibly be bringing that up at a time like this, could you?"

Clark looked down. "I was hoping you haven't found a date for it yet."

"I applaud your faith in me."

"I was wondering if you'd go with me."

Chloe looked shocked. Clark wasn't usually this forward. Clark shocked himself, too. He was beginning to sound like his grandfather.

Chloe began to laugh a little bit. Clark's face stayed the same. "Wait… you're serious?"

Clark tried to sound confident. "Yeah."

"W… Why would I go with you to the Dance? No offense, Clark, but the last time I tried that, I ended up crying for a week."

"Chloe, last time we tried that, 3 tornadoes tore Smallville apart." Clark smiled, hoping to make her smile, too. She didn't. "It's not tornado season," Clark tried.

Chloe looked at Clark, trying to see if he was serious. "Okay."

"Okay?" Clark was surprised.

"Yeah—okay. But I'll meet you there. I don't want to be dressed up at home all night long and not have you show." Clark looked down, almost ashamed. Chloe felt a little bad and tried to lighten the mood. "At least that way I won't waste 200 on a dress no one will see me in."

Clark looked up and smiled. Chloe smiled, too. For the first time since their fight began, Clark had hope that their fight would end.