Just Shut Up Already!

Disclaimer: I don't own the story, the names, or the characters, except Bob. But I think Bon owns more of me then I own of him.

Summary: Whew! Chloe isn't dead! Aren't you relieved? You don't even have to read the chapter, just scroll down and look at all the fancy words while you think about how great it is that I haven't killed off any characters. For surely… LIFE IS BEAUTIFUL!

A/N: I love fanfictions about Clark and his friends becoming magicians (or even racecar drivers…). I don't read them or anything. But the summaries are pretty funny. (Also the reviews… "when be the time that clark and lana love each other w/ magik?" "i love that the story has puppies. CLRK & LNA 4EVR!") Sorry, I couldn't help myself.

I almost asked Dad if I could sleep in the car last night. But I don't want him to think that I'm crazy. So I parked the car where I could see it from my bedroom window. I stared at her for an hour before I decided to sleep. I love that car. I missed her so much. No more demon bus. No more taking rides from guys with daddy issues.

It was a bitch to find my car in the morning. Like an idiot, I forgot last night's sign of devotions, because today's a Tuesday, which is almost as bad as Monday. Only one day has passed from this horrible week and I'm already swamped with more work then I've had all year and have had a death threat on my life.

I'm not even going to worry about that death threat. A death threat doesn't have a Thursday deadline, but my English paper does. Not that I really believe that somebody wants to kill me. Sure, people have tried to kill me more then I can count, but this time I doubt it. Lionel Luthor wants me to be afraid. He wants me to beg him for help.

I won't do it.

I won't grovel. I won't beg. I won't be afraid of him. I was afraid to turn on my beautiful car, my best friend, my most trusted confidant. I learned that if I'm afraid, I'm not happy. I want to be happy. Life is beautiful and deserves to be treated as such.

That's my motto from now on. My other motto is To Smack Lana Lang Would Be Mean, Unnecessary and Possibly Hilarious.

I walk into my favorite place in the school, sit down in front of my computer and put my stuff down. If I start to work on the paper, I have an excuse for not being in first period, which, as Martha Stewart would say, is a good thing.

I begin to format the front page when Clark walks in. And what a nice walk it is. He has this strut like none other. He also always has that one backpack strap over his shoulder. He's so dreamy.

"Hi Clark."

"Hi Chloe. How's it going?"

"Good, good. You?"

"Good."

This is a nice conversation. He smiles, I smile. We just talk about normal stuff like normal kids in normal high schools do. But I'm about to ruin it.

"I got my car back."

"That's great, Chloe!" Is that real enthusiasm or is he mocking me? It seems genuine. Am I blushing? I hope I'm not blushing. Jeez, I'm such a girl.

"Thing is, I didn't pay for it."

"Lex?"

"Nope, guess again." He's stumped. He leans in closer. I want him to get far, far away from me before I jump him. "Our favorite murderer. Well he's at least a close second. I was always fond of Jack the Stripper."

"Jack the Stripper?"

"Nevermind."

"So, Lionel bought your car for you. That's nice of him."

What???? "What?"

"He's trying to atone for attempting to kill you."

"Oh, well that's nice of him" I say, punching him in the face with my sarcasm. It hasn't had a work out in a while but it still hits him hard.

I think about telling him about my supposed hit man, but I keep my mouth shut. Unless… maybe I can get a hug or two if I pull out some tears. No. Well if… No!

"Did you find anything out from that notebook he gave you?" I ask.

He shakes his head. "No. I was going to check out some leads but then Pete called. We were talking for a while and I lost track of time."

Ahhh Pete… Don't get me started on Pete. He left Smallville, and that was the last I heard from him. He told Clark to tell me his new phone number and his new address. He told Clark to say 'hi' for him every time he calls, but I've yet to get a phone call. I called once, left a message, and never got a phone call back. But I'm not bitter.

"Well did you at least finish the article about the renovations on the gym?"

"Oh, Chlo… I forgot." I take a deep breath. "I'll finish it tod-," he starts to say. But he's interrupted. Come on, people who listen into my thoughts. I know you're there. Can you guess who would walk in and take Clark's attention away from me? That's right, my mind readers! Lana.

"Clark! Chloe!" she says. At least she acknowledged my existence. Lets see how long that lasts. "Chloe, did you find anything on Jason?"

Crap! I talk to her all the time, but seldom anything I say sticks in her head. She has to go and remember this! I once had this long conversation with her in which I wasn't sure if she was listening to me, so I told her that I had been abducted by aliens the previous day. She nodded and smiled.

"Oh yeah." I say. "About that…"

She twitches a little. Oh God, she's going to explode. 'Chloe not doing everything I ask, why I never!'

"I didn't find that much." The twitching stops and I take in a deep breath. "Um…" I search around the rooms for answers, but I get nothing. "Well, Jason spoke to his mother the day before… and… um… he decided that he needed to find out who his family really is." That seems like a safe bet.

"That makes sense," she says. I guess I'm good at making things up. "Thanks, Chloe. You keep researching and I'll think about what you've told me."

She glances at Clark, flips her hair, and she's gone.

"Clark, finish that article and have it on my desk by-" But it's no use. He's gone.

I sigh and sit in front of my computer. I've worked my magic on the keyboard for about thirty minutes, when the room phone rings. I freeze. I'm not exactly suppose to be in this room without a teacher supervisor, but I don't even think that we have a supervisor.

I answer the phone, hoping it isn't somebody checking up on me. I can't deal with people right now.

"Chloe Sullivan?"

"Speaking."

"How many times have I told you not to have your mail sent to the school?"

Ouch. Right. I forgot to change my mailing address. I usually just use email but in the rare times that I need a hard copy of something, I have it sent to the school so that my dad doesn't accidentally throw my mail away.

"Sorry, Mrs. Talbot. I'll be right down. Last time, I promise."

She makes a noise of disbelief and hangs up. I make my way to the office, trying to remember if I've ordered anything. As far as I know, I haven't.

"Here," Mrs. Talbot says, as she hands me a small envelope. The envelope has my name on it, but that's it. I don't wait to leave the office before opening it.

The writing is neat. Beautiful even. The top is dated with yesterday's date. I read it. Read it again. And then read it again.

"Have a nice week," it says. "Because it's your last. See you on Friday."

Great. Just great.