Chapter 2
Andy
Clark walked into school, on the verge of being late once again. He ran to his first class, hoping the bell wouldn't ring before he got there. Even though his bought of tardiness was beginning to upset Principal Reynolds, his mind was elsewhere: how was he supposed to tell Lana tonight that he was an alien? He hadn't even told his parents yet about what had happened that morning—probably because he was mostly embarrassed about talking about it with his parents, even though they were the only people he consoled in when it came to his powers—besides Pete, that is.
He slipped into the door, too tall to be considered inconspicuous, and was noticed immediately as the entire class turned in their seats to see who had just entered.
"Another tardy, Mr. Kent, and it's a detention for you," Mr. Long threatened his student. "Please, take a seat, and do not disrupt the class again."
"Yes sir," Clark said dutifully, handing his teacher his late English paper, which only resulting in getting him a stern look that, if Mr. Long had Clark's powers, would have burnt a hole through his skull.
Later that day, Clark was walking through the hallways, planning on visiting Lex, the billionaire son of Lionel Luthor—the one everyone knew as evil but never dared to mention it out loud. Clark knew he'd missed the bus—the driver hardly waited for him anymore; but he didn't mind. He could get anywhere around the small town in less than 10 seconds using his speed anyway; much faster than any vehicle could take him—even one of Lex's expensive Porsches or Ferraris, Clark thought as he smiled to himself.
As he exited the double doors to the main hallway of Smallville High, he switched to super-speed and within 5 seconds was at the gates of Lex's mansion. The security guards, recognizing the visitor as Lex's friend; a frequent visitor, immediately opened the gates and let the young man in.
"Hi Clark, what's up? You look distracted," Lex greeted his friend, as he saw Clark rounding the corner into his gigantic study.
"Well, I need some advice," Clark admitted, hoping his best friend could help out his predicament.
"Shoot," Lex said, racking up the balls for a game of pool; his favorite pastime.
"Well, this morning I told this really amazing person that I'd open up to them tonight, and I'm not really sure how to go about it," Clark said, trying not to reveal too much about himself, but still wanting a little help.
"Well, for conversation's sake, let's just call the person 'Lana,'" Lex said, looking up from his cue stick and grinning at Clark. He'd known Clark had had a huge crush on Lana Lang ever since Lex had met him after Clark had saved him from drowning after driving his Porsche off of the Loeb Bridge—much the same situation that Clark had witnessed earlier that week. Lex continued to have the suspicions that he had hit Clark going 60 miles an hour, which in reality is what he had done, but Clark hoped Lex believed his story of Clark jumping in after him to save his soon-to-be friend. Still, he avoiding too much prying, and continued, "Besides Clark, you know I've never been great with people of the opposite sex—I tend to drive them away eventually some way or another."
"I know, I just don't know what to do," Clark said, looking down at the floor, embarrassed by his situation.
"I think you should tell her. All she's ever wanted of you was to be honest with her, right? Well here's your chance to give her what she wants—it could the beginning of a more than 'just-friends' relationship," Lex teased his friend, knowing all of his usual excuses.
"That's all I've ever wanted with Lana—and yet last time that happened, I broke her heart when I left for Metropolis…"
"You aren't planning on going 'bad-boy' on us again, are you?" Lex asked, shooting another of the pool balls into a pocket.
"No, I'll never do anything like that again, I've made sure of that," Clark said, knowing how much grief he had caused everyone he loved. Upon hearing the comment, Lex became momentarily curious, but quickly suppressed his vexed questions; oblivious to the fact that it was a simply piece of red meteor-rock, or kryptonite, that made his best friend reveal his inner evil. Instead, he simply remarked,
"It looks like you have no way around it this time, Clark."
Clark flashed a still-troubled smile to his friend, knowing he couldn't tell Lana his secret without consequences eventually coming to haunt her, before turning to leave.
"Oh, and Clark?" Lex added, resulting in Clark swiveling around. "Good luck!" receiving a regular Kent-charm smile in return before watching his friend depart.
That night, Clark paced the floor of his loft—his "fortress of solitude" as his father liked to call it, and attempted to figure out what to tell Lana when she came over.
"Hi Lana, I'd just like to tell you that I'm an alien…no, that'd never work…" Clark said to himself. Earlier he had told his parents what he was going to do that night with Lana, and although neither of them fully agreed with his decision, they supported him. They both knew it was hard for Clark to conceal his secret from everyone every day of his life, and that it kept him from leading a normal life. Clark was trying out one of his better beginnings of the dreaded conversation, when he heard footsteps at the bottom of the stairs leading to his loft. Immediately, he stopped talking, and walked over to the railing, knowing exactly who it was.
"Hi Lana," Clark said in a voice that he hoped didn't sound as nervous as he felt.
"Hi Clark, your parents told me you were out here," she said.
"Yeah, I have to tell you something, and I'm not sure how you're going to like it…" he began, quickly deciding on a beginning to his life that anyone could read as if it were a mystery and depressing novel.
"Clark, it's OK," Lana said. Clark gazed up at her with surprised eyes. "You don't have to tell me anything. You warned me that there were things about you that I wouldn't understand, and I don't want to force you to tell me until you're ready." Clark was taken aback by this, and just stood there, stunned.
"Lana, if I could tell you, I would. It's just too dangerous," he said, happy that he wouldn't have to tell her after all. True, it was what he wanted to tell her, but it was too risky. His parents and Pete had all experienced that the hard way, becoming victims of maniacs trying to learn what it was that Clark Kent kept hidden from the rest of the world.
"I know. That's why I've decided to let the time come by itself. I know you'll tell me when the time is right," she continued. Clark himself knew that he would tell her someday, but only when it became necessary—and not before then.
The next morning, Clark walked downstairs and was greeted by the expectant faces of his parents.
"So, how did it go last night?" Martha asked, trying not to pry but concerned for her son's wellbeing.
"I didn't tell her, if that's what you're wondering," Clark said, not sure if he was pleased or upset by the concept. He grabbed a piece of bread and began to toast it with his heat vision.
"Are you OK, Clark?" Jonathan asked, also concerned at the look on his son's face.
"Yeah, just thinking," Clark replied, eating his toast dry. "I'm gonna go do my chores before school."
"OK, just don't be late!" Martha said, patting him on the back as he left the house. He fed the cattle, noticing that his mom had already fed the chickens. Looking at his watch, and realizing he was behind schedule, he bailed the hay with his super-speed. As he was walking back to the house to grab his backpack, he watched a hawk flying in the clear blue sky. There was something unusual about that way it was flying—using big strokes of its wings, when a hawk was supposed to effortlessly glide on the air. Clark tried to look closer, but the strange bird flew too far off, heading in the direction of the school. He would normally have followed it, his inner journalist brought out in him by Chloe, but he knew he was going to be late, and let it go. Snatching his backpack from the counter, he super-sped off to school; never being a very punctual person.
The girl was in an ocean of emotions at that moment—she loved flying, but she knew she was only flying to school because her mother had wrecked their only car, and a nice one at that—an arrest-me-red 2003 Mustang Convertible that she had been hoping to learn to drive in. She knew it wasn't her mother's fault she had crashed: the road had been slick from the rain the night before, and the brakes had been a little faulty lately. The girl was just glad that she had been in the car with her mother at the time to save the only family she had—but she knew that that boy had seen her wings. She didn't know where he had come from, but she just hoped he hadn't seen her distinctly enough to be able to recognize her.
She knew that chances were, he went to the same high school—it was the only one in town, and she both dreaded and looked forward to her first day. Her mother had home-schooled her up to now; concerned about her daughter's social life, had agreed to let her go to a public school. She opened her wings to their full breadth and slowed herself, landing in a nearby clearing amongst a group of pine trees, and slipped on her baggiest sweatshirt, hoping it was large enough to inconspicuously conceal her enormous pair of auburn wings. She carried her books under one greatly muscled arm, doing whatever she could to keep any weight off of her tightly folded wings. Slipping on her empty backpack over both shoulders as an extra layer, she took a deep breath, and confidently walked into the school.
The amount of kids in the hallway along was overwhelming, and she carefully scooted through the teeming mass of students to the wall, and slipped into the first open door as the bell rang through the hallways.
"Uh, hi, can I help you?" came a friendly voice from behind her. Spinning around, not expecting another to be in the room, she took in her surroundings. She was in a small office, it looked like, and one wall was entirely covered in jumbled newspaper clippings and pictures. She looked at the girl who was sitting at a computer, who had a head of short blond hair and friendly looking green eyes.
"Yeah, I'm new here. I was wondering if someone could show me around a bit," she said, trying to sound self-assured, though she knew she was only fooling herself. What had she been thinking? They'd probably think she was odd even without knowing about her wings.
"Sure, that's usually Clark's job, but he's got class right now, so I'd be happy to. If you can hold on one second, I just need to finish this," she said, starting to type something quickly. While she waited, the girl gazed about the room more closely, when she saw something that made her heart skip a beat—on the cluttered wall, there was an article that looked more recent than the others, only concluding this because it wasn't as faded as the others, and it covered up parts of the other clippings.
Winged Wonder: Smallville's Newest Hero?
As she tried to hide her surprise, she calmed herself, and quickly asked the blond girl who wrote it.
"You like it? That's one of my better ones, got the information from Clark. He said he saw a winged woman save another from falling to her death in a car that fell off of the Smallville Dam. Happened just a few days ago, but we seem to be the only observant ones around here," the perky girl replied, clearly very proud of herself. The new girl suppressed a quick breath of bewilderment, and continued on, putting the pieces of the puzzle together.
"Is that in the paper?"
"The school's newspaper actually, The Torch. I'm the president of it; Chloe Sullivan," she said, extending a hand.
"I'm Andy….Andy Falcon," she said, forcing herself to shake Chloe's hand.
"Well Andy, let's find your next class. You'll be late, but I'm sure Mr. Reynolds won't mind, seeing as how you're a new student and all," Chloe said, taking the schedule from Andy's hand. "Looks like you're in the same class as Clark—English with Mr. Long. He's not as mean as he appears to be," Chloe said, trying to be a good host. She brushed past Andy on her way to the door, at which Andy instinctively recoiled—afraid of even accidental contact with anyone.
"You OK?" Chloe asked, implying Andy's sudden and unexpected reaction.
"I'm fine, let's just get to class," Andy said quickly, walking out that door behind her new acquaintance.
Clark heard the door open before anyone else, and turned his head in the direction to see who was coming in late—probably another of the students who regularly was tardy but never seemed to have a relevant excuse. He was surprised when he saw Chloe walk in, who didn't have a class first period, but then saw another girl walk in after her. The girl looked down at the floor, her features covered under a wall of long brown hair cascading down her front and over her backpack.
"Uh, Mr. Long? This is Andy Falcon; she's new here, and asked me to show her to her first class…" Chloe said, getting the teacher's attention.
"Why yes, and late already. That can become a bad habit Ms. Falcon," Mr. Long pestered his student immediately, attempting to preserve his stern-teacher image throughout the school. Andy blushed at the comment, and silently went to take a seat. Clark noticed right away that she hunched when she walked, as if her backpack weighed her down, but which appeared to be empty as she was holding her books under one arm. She took the straps off her shoulders, and instantly slipped into her seat and slouched down low into the seat, looking around to see if she could recognize Clark, the one who had exploited her secret.
