(3): There she is . . ., woman of my dreams?
"So there I was, standing in the middle of Smallville High's vast and crowded hallways. The world around me be seemed to be dragging through time, taking me along for the ride with its bland environment as the students headed to their respective classes. I tried to keep my borrowed tex books from the school's library from falling out of my arms. I had to get Chemistry before the bell rang. Jumping over my untied shoes laces as I traveled down the hall pushing through the thinning crowd of teenagers.
Physical ED was what I had just come from, Dad was proud that I had become the top of my class in this specific area of school, Mom was worried I wasn't focusing enough on my school work despite the fact that I told her that I was getting better in English and Algebra II. I was good at the nonphysical things so long as I keep myself focused on it and not on a certain person I admired from afar. She was the most beautiful person I had ever met; she's sweet, kind and giving (or at least she appeared that way), some of things I admired in a person regardless of their preference. Most of the time. Yawning, I straightened the stack of books in my arm as I tried to move my messenger bag to the front of me so I could drop them inside. It was almost near the chemistry class and I had managed to get two books in my bag. This time I figured I wouldn't have an accident.
Of course this was before I saw her. She was walking towards me, surrounded by her posse, wearing a skirt, blouse, a heart shaped necklace, rumpled socks and loafers on her feet, her face surrounded by her wonderful brunette hair. Her head towards me (or at least I thought she did) and waved franticly. She waved at me. ME! Not wanting to embarrass myself I looked around and spotted no one she would know; I waved back and got a negative reaction. Her face fell when her eyes focused on me, but it instantly lit up when someone from behind shoved against me to get to her.
My unruly hair fell in front of me, hiding the disappointment in my face. I should've know it was a stupid football jock -- he was stupid right now, because I was feeling stupid for ever thinking --- "Ah!" I found myself on the ground in a matter of seconds, I tripped over my untied shoe laces. I stood up quickly gathering what little pride I had left. All around me were faint giggles from girls and snickers from the boys as I leaned over to pick up my fallen books. When I reached over to pick up my book on manic depressive illness someone beat me to the punch. I looked up and there she was, the woman of my dreams handing me the book. "Here, I think you dropped this," She said with an amused smile. Well, she isn't the only one laughing, I thought to myself taking the book from her. "Thanks," I replied hastily.
I shoved the book into my bag standing up, she followed suit twirling a piece of her hair around her finger. She looked perplexed for a moment as she stared at me, I felt like a hamster in a cage. "What was your name again?" She asked suddenly. I looked dazed, wondering why she had asked for my name. She would just forget it, but I decided to humor her some more. "Uhh - I'm Jonathan Kent," I had said. "Your Hiram Kent's son," She stated, as though amazed. I fought the urge to roll my eyes as my face turned red. Everyone thought my Dad was cool or alright, teenagers included. "Nell Potter?" I said hesitantly. Nell nodded her smile getting bigger.
"Yeah that's it!" Nell Paused when she heard one of the cheerleader's calling her name. Turning back to me she gave me a genuine smile before trotting off. "I'll see you later," Nell said. I gave her a halfhearted shrug trying to look like I didn't care, the girl broke into a jog to catch up with her friends. I would've stay in that exact spot forever if it wasn't for the shrill ringing of the bell. I made a mad dash down the hall and around the corner just as the last student shut the chemistry classroom door. Someday I'll have my chance with Nell Potter. I'm sure of it. Then I'll tell dad I told you so :--) ---- Jonathan Kent (age 15)."
Clark jumped at the sound of the front door opening and the familiar jingle of Shelby's collar and his father's keys. Reopening the closet of his parents bedroom he tipped the old wooden box top open and slid the rustic looking journal back into its original place. "Clark, we're home," Came his mother's call. Clark too a look around the room to make sure he hadn't moved anything out of place, he then shut the closet door and headed down the hall to meet his parents down stairs. "Hi Clark, how was you day? Did you talk to Chloe?" Martha asked as she stepped over Shelby who was currently tugging at Jonathan's plaid shirt. This was a new found game the canine played with Jonathan whenever he got the chance.
Clark shoved his hands into his pockets, trying his best not to smile like an idiot whenever his eyes averted to his father. "I talked to Chloe; she said she's recovering from Nash's fake school incident. And my day was fine. I wrote a letter to Pete and bickered with Lois," He said. "Who is, thankfully out of the house and bothering the General Lane." Jonathan chuckled as he buttoned his plaid shirt (for Shelby wasn't releasing his sleeve anytime soon) revealing his blue T-shirt, Shelby released his sleeve and attempted to grab Jonathan's blue shirt. Acting quickly the blonde pulled his plaid shirt off his shoulders and draped it over the dog's face. "That's good to hear," Jonathan said heading into the kitchen. Clark hopped of the stair case and kneeled in front of Shelby, removing the shirt from off his head. The dog licked the young man's face in approval.
"Good Dog," He coaxed scratching him behind the ears. Shelby barked twice in agreement giving Clark's face another lick. The two of them averted their gaze over to his parents. In that moment Clark felt like a seven year old boy again as he watched his parents kissing. Or as Chloe would call it 'a lip lock each other' and hugging while doing so, he cringed in mock-disgust. Suddenly an idea hit him. Grinning from ear to ear he said in a loud booming voice (mocking his father's), "Someday I'll have my chance with Nell Potter. I'm sure of it. Then I'll tell dad I told you so. Jonathan Kent." Both parents broke away from each other to stare at their son; Clark especially noticed his father's cheeks turning red. A rare occurrence. Clark's grin widened when he saw Martha's eyes shift to her husband. "You couldn't've been any more than my age or younger," He laughed. Jonathan slowly scooted away from the island, advancing on the 18-year-old. "Clark what did we tell about, snooping in our very PRIVATE things?" Jonathan asked. Clark rocked back on his heels with a shrug of his shoulders. The next thing Martha knew both men were out the door and rushing across the yard, laughing and stumbling. She watched them through the window appearing astonished at their childish behavior. Martha prayed Jonathan wouldn't hurt Clark too much for reading his old journal.
(FIN)