Back at her desk in The Torch office Chloe finds it difficult to concentrate. Still confused by the emotions stirred up by the awkward assembly, she can only stare blankly at her computer screen. Even if she wanted to it's doubtful her fingers could find the keys to type the words spelling out the importance of practicing abstinence. If she were to accurately detail the points of the lecture, and embrace the views of the guest speaker in her column, she would undeniably be stepping into the role of hypocrite. Bound to always speak the truth, most especially in print, Chloe sat wondering how exactly she could force herself to write an article that she did not believe in. She could not put out an article encouraging her peers to limit the experiences in their lives, when she, herself, had stepped outside the lines.

Regardless of how she felt about that night in Metropolis, she simply could not label the experience a regret. With all her heart she clung to the fact that experiences, however great or tragic shape you into the person you are to be. If she learned nothing else from her first experience with sex it was the importance of carrying in emotions for the person before engaging in such an act. Yet, if she were to use her column to challenge the views expressed in the lecture it would mean opening a very large can of worms; one so big that she might be called a name much worse than hypocrite by the conservative bible belt that snugged the waist of Smallville.

Chloe's status in Smallville society seemed to be plummeting, her father's black listing by Lionel Luthor undeniably affecting every facet of her life. She couldn't help but fear that it might spiral down to the high school hierarchy. It's clear she has to be more than a responsible journalist, she has to be a responsible daughter.

"Chloe," Clark says, startling her out of her own mental debate. "What's up?" he asks, instantly observing her distance, the absence of her trademark smile clueing him in immediately.

"Shouldn't you be at lunch?" she asks, quickly closing the window on her computer screen with only the word 'sex' existing on the page. However, just behind that window resides a much more telling piece. Despite her olympic speed in x-ing out of the window, Clark still catch a glimpse of what she so desperately does not want him to see. Still saved on her hard drive, and opened earlier to bring her solace, are the pictures of she and him arm and arm at the spring formal. Memories from a time when happily ever after still seemed like a real possibility. How much she disliked herself for clinging to the past, for it made it so incredibly hard to look to the future.

"I was coming here to ask you why you weren't eating," Clark says taking a seat on the corner of her desk, searching her eyes for both the reason she was skipping lunch for the third time this week, and why it seemed she was hiding something.

"Ever hear of a working lunch, Clark?" Chloe says, jumping out of her chair, crossing the room to put some distance between herself and Clark after being caught displaying her heart on the screen of the computer.

"Working lunch?" Clark asks, pretty sure he didn't see her working on anything dire as far as The Torch went.

"Deadlines Clark. Sometimes your stomach has to come second to the reality of your surroundings," Chloe says, her tone back to the no nonsense editor who thrives under stress, and delights in giving it.

Clark cocks his eyebrow, not sure he fully understands what sort of deadline Chloe was put under that she couldn't find a moment to eat a sandwich. What he didn't know was that the snickers in her desk drawer would have to serve as lunch and possibly even dinner that night. Although money hadn't gotten quite that tight yet, Chloe knew that pretty soon it would be. If she could help keep the power on in the apartment an extra month by skipping meals, then that's just what she would do. It's what she would have to do.

"Come on Chloe, it's lunchtime. Take a break," he says, tugging on her sleeve, trying to maintain levity, yet all the while his blue-green eyes full of compassion and concern.

Despite the fact that he normally was quite oblivious to the subtle changes in appearance that girls put so much stock in, the recent change in Chloe's weight had begun to peak his interest. He couldn't help but notice that the color had faded from her normally rosy pink cheeks. She was beginning to look pale, and Clark was beginning to worry about his friend.

Always observant, and particularly on guard these days, Chloe could sense concern in Clark's tone, feel him searching her face for answers. Determined to set his mind at ease, even it meant lying to his face, she slips into the comfortable routine of pushing him away. "Clark, I already ate, so go on back and eat with Lana. I'm sure she's saving you a seat."

Chloe wasn't sure why she felt compelled to always test Clark's friendship. It was beginning to seem that just like she had to breathe in air to live, she likewise had to throw out the name Lana just to see how Clark would react. It actually was becoming exhausting to play such games, but like an addiction she found herself unconsciously doing it, like reflex, or more accurately a defense mechanism.

The mention of Lana's name by Chloe was something that always made Clark feel awkward. Despite how well she thought she hid her feelings for him, he could always sense something more behind her words. Honestly, unsure how to tread around the delicate feelings of females, most especially those of his childhood friend, he could only sit there quietly. However, the instant blush upon his cheeks couldn't help but confirm how he feels about being the point of a love triangle.

Feeling the need to fully prove her strength to him, she saw no choice but to change the subject from her eating habits, or lack there of, to that which she still maintained control of.

"Clark, I need you to write up a cover piece on the assembly today," Chloe says, intentionally placing him in a position that would make him uncomfortable.

If the name Lana Lang hadn't brushed a crimson hue upon his cheeks, this assignment would've indeed done the job. The site of this huge guy glowing red at the thought of having to pen a paper on sex was humor not lost on Chloe.

"Me? Write an article about ssseee..." he says, stopping short, not able to speak such an intimate word so casually.

"The word is sex, Clark. The assembly was on sex. I need three-hundred words from you preferably by tomorrow morning. I need to slip it into this week's issue," Chloe orders matter-of-factly.

Pawning off this assignment to Clark not only spared her of having to face her own demons and air them out in public, it would provide her with an invaluable insight into the mind of Clark Kent; most importantly in the realm of how he felt about those who engaged in premarital sex. The opportunity to watch him squirm at the prospect was just an added bonus.