The quiet stillness just before dawn is pierced by the shrill ringing of the alarm clock. The heavy dread of facing another day in this purgatory she's been living seems almost too much to bare. Yet, the sanctuary of her pillow cannot suppress the flood of thoughts that have already begun to flow through her mind. She no longer has the luxury to live simply for herself, for she had to wake, depended upon by her father to be the strength for both of them.

In a single movement she flicks the alarm off, setting her feet on the ground. Stumbling through the darkness, she finds her way to the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

As she gazes into the mirror at her own reflection she gently rubs the blackness of her day old mascara away from under her eyes. If only everything was so easy to clean up. The cold splash of water shocks the remnants of sleep out of her system, like the slap of reality recent events had given her. Ready or not she had to face another day, hiding behind the facade she had created, the smiling, bubbling girl who seemed to be taken for granted by everyone, including herself.

The walk to the store was actually one of the few things that Chloe enjoyed about her new living situation. She was actually beginning to relish the opportunity to be alone with her thoughts, warmed by the morning sunlight. It was hard to not be able to drive her car as much, having to continue bumming rides and making excuses. However it didn't make sense to sacrifice precious money on gas considering she was able enough to walk.

Making her way through the market she grabs a dozen eggs, a loaf of bread, some peanut butter and a pound of ground beef, feeling those ingredients would go the farthest, and were easy enough to prepare. The one thing she did not enjoy was having to count change and pinch pennies, but she had been lucky so far at hiding the fact that she had to use loose change to pay for things when the eyes of her friends were around. Of course the clerk at the counter didn't seem to appreciate being the one who Chloe unleashed her change on. When Chloe notices the snide clerk's obvious eye roll, Chloe grabs a snickers bar, adding it to her stack, hoping the gesture would suggest that she wasn't poor, just cleaning out some excess change from her purse.

Keeping a close eye on the clock, Chloe fries up two eggs for her father in the skillet, browning some bread under the broiler for some toast.

"Dad!" she calls out, turning over one of the eggs with a spatula, busting the yolk. "Your breakfast is almost ready."

Gabe grumbles out of the bedroom, silently passing the kitchen for the bathroom. Chloe, quite used to his non communication, simply places the eggs on the plate near two slices of toast, laying the meal on the bar for her dad to take.

He shuffles out of the bathroom, and passes the kitchen without even glancing at the meal which was prepared for him. The bedroom door shuts, not loud enough for a slam, but with enough force for him to make a point.

Chloe, far too used to this dance, scoops the egg on to one piece of toast, covers the eggs with the other and stuffs the hastily created sandwich into her mouth. Working down her first bite full while snatching up her things for school.

Senior assemblies often serve as a fun escape from the mundane routine of class, but when the lecture was revolving around a woman in a lab coat illustrating proper prophylactic placement on a banana, Chloe, like most, was actually longing to be in physics class.

Reporting on this joy of an assembly meant she had to give each method of protection its due. Always a pillar of journalistic integrity, Chloe was having a little trouble keeping her feelings out of this one. Her emotional attachment to the subject unsettling her. Every time the speaker echoed the word abstinence, Chloe felt as though a spotlight shined down upon her forehead. Interrogated by the woman's constant use of the words 'wait' 'saving' and 'virgin', Chloe slid farther down into her seat, praying for the bell to ring.

Sitting with her self inflicted scarlett letter, Chloe was trying her best to record the main points of the presentation, all the while reliving the awkward moments she spent fumbling around with the guy who made her laugh last summer in Metropolis.

The regret felt the moment it happened she had been able to hide beneath the weight of the thousand burdens she had at home. But, the reality of her actions came flooding back to her as the woman continued to hammer home the finality of such a decision. Her emotions quickly ranged from regret, to shame to anger, as she furiously scribbled notes down for her article.

She remembered the night well, how could she forget? Not that it was unforgettable in the way people like to imagine their first time will be. It was unforgettable because of how uneventful it felt at the time considering it was supposed to be one of the greatest moments of your life.

She was never one of those girls foolish enough to believe those ridiculous claims that having sex made you a woman. She had been thrust into the role of adult at the tender age of five when the exit of her mom from her life forced her to grow up much quicker than most girls her age. Growing up knowing her life would always be a little bit different than the ideal that most take for granted, Chloe had steeled her will to not fall into the traps of being a statistic. She never wanted to be pitied, so she fought hard to create a life for herself that no one would ever see as lacking.

That summer internship at 'The Planet' was the pinnacle of all of her hard work and dedication paying off, moving her one step closer to the career she had so long dreamed of.

Being a journalist gave her control, something she relished considering her own life had been controlled by other's decisions seemingly without regard to the impact their repercussions would have on her. Being a Reporter gave her answers to questions, perhaps not the questions she had been asking herself for years, but none the less helped her feel a sense of power, and in her world full of chaos answers were something she had come to crave. Perhaps subconsciously she felt that exposing and reporting on other people's lives and secrets in essence kept her own out of the spotlight.

So as she desperately tried to not allow her mind to wander back to that night, those ridiculous moments that would forever link her to the goofy guy she thought was sort of cute, the annoying redundancy of the women's presentation seemed to make Chloe's mind want to go there.

The irony that recalling the details of the encounter lasted much longer than the event itself was not humor lost on her. She couldn't help but be tickled by it, remembering perfectly how much it embarrassed him when she failed to enjoy it as much as he did, not really having enough time to get into it before it was over.

All she wanted to do afterwards was get up and move on, feeling as though the act magnified the differences between men and women instead of bonding the two. He suddenly acted like he had climbed Everest, yet the act left her feeling a bit bewildered, not at all feeling like their hearts were united or whatever the cliché is. It still struck her as odd that women would ever desire to lay there and cuddle afterwards. Her mind would not allow her to, instantly feeling the need to move on and pretend the whole thing never happened.

The fact was that it had happened. She had done it. Not because she was in love, or even in lust. She had decided to do it because she had always viewed sex as a big empty box on her 'to do' list in life that she needed to check off. The older she got the more it felt like she had a long list of chores to be done, not a life to be experienced. Feeling that way she had rationalized in her mind that night was as good as any, and the boy who seemed to admire her would serve the purpose as good as any.

But from the second his inept hands begin to touch her in places no one had ever done, she swiftly felt the impact of her decision, fearing that her practicality had robbed her of the opportunity for this to be something special. Her mind had begun to cry out that this was wrong. but before she could even react, she found herself beyond the point of no return. The deed was imminent, to put a stop to it then would have been cruel. So in typical Chloe fashion, her own feelings were sacrificed for someone else's.

As Clark shifts in his seat, uncomfortable from the subject matter, and the cramped feeling of his large frame in the tiny seat, he accidentally places his hand on Chloe's knee instead of pushing off of the arm rest. The touch of his hand on her skin immediately snaps her out of her thoughts, drawing her to glance up at him, surprisingly met by that mysterious smile he offered her the night before.

"Sorry Chloe," he whispers, quickly unlocking his eyes from her stare, embarrassed by his seemingly forward gesture.

Feeling as though she was struck by a bolt of lightning, Chloe can't help but go crimson. The odd dizzying euphoria brought by his strong hand on her body intriguing her.

Suddenly she feels exactly like she did that night, recalling how it felt to long to be held securely in the strength of Clark's arms instead of those spindly ones which clung to her. How nice it would've been to delight in this exploration with someone who made her feel more alive than anyone else ever has. She couldn't help but wonder if she and Clark had taken the journey together would she still be sitting here ashamed of ever delving into the act. She wondered if it would have forever changed their relationship, making him the one she was so longing to forget.

Yet, it was the hopeful thought that walking with Clark down that intimate path could make the experience different. Maybe the feelings she felt for Clark, the electrifying chills his touch brought to her was what was lacking in her first experience. Perhaps the euphoric sensation of love was what it would take to make the experience magical. She began to think it was the presence of love that fused two hearts into one, not the physical act of sex, but the emotions you carried into it with you. The connection you have with the person that leads you to that crucial point.

Concentrating so hard on her thoughts of Clark, she failed to see him sneaking peeks of her out of the corner of his eye.