Chapter 4 - Friendship

One advantage to living in a small town was that if Clark didn't get home until two hours after school finished, his parents wouldn't ask where he'd been. Most days, he didn't go straight home anyway. He hung out with Pete, or helped Chloe with the Torch, or did his homework in the library, or went to the Beanery. The other day, he'd walked over to the bridge to look out over the water—he wouldn't be doing that anymore, though.

Clark felt a little bad about disobeying his dad. They'd made up after their argument, kind of. They'd both apologized for yelling and confessed that they were on edge because of the car accident and the revelation about the storm cellar, but they hadn't talked about Lex.

There wasn't a doorbell at the mansion. Just a big gate and a uniformed security guy, who let Clark in without a question when he gave his name.

Lex was sitting at his desk staring at his computer when Clark entered the study. He glanced up as Clark approached his desk. "What time does school let out?"

"3."

He looked back at his computer screen. "It's 3:05. What, did you fly here?"

"I ran. I'm . . . fast." It was so incredibly relieving to be able to be open about that instead of lying.

"Save any lives on the way over?"

Clark shifted his weight a little. "You heard about Whitney."

"I've been assuming he's the one who crucified you. Am I right?"

It was true that Clark had come over to talk about the scarecrow incident, but he really didn't want to talk about Whitney. He glanced around the room. "This is a great place."

"Yeah? If you're dead and in the market for something to haunt."

That caught Clark off guard—Lex lived in a mansion big enough to house half the town, and he didn't even like it. "I meant, it's roomy."

"It's the Luthor ancestral home, or so my father claims. He had it shipped over from Scotland stone by stone."

"Yeah, I remember trucks rolled through town for weeks, but no one ever moved in."

"My father had no intention of living here. He's never even stepped through the front door."

"Then why'd he ship it over?"

"Because he could. Now he's exiled me here." Lex smirked. "But you didn't run over here to hear me go on about my father."

Clark shrugged. "I hear a lot about him from mine."

"Whatever he's said, it's probably true, and worse than he thinks."

Clark doubted that.

Lex took a step closer. "You ran here from school, right? Can I get you something to eat?"

"Sure." He was always hungry after school. Maybe food would make it easier to start the conversation.

Lex ended up sitting next to Clark in one of the dining rooms with a plate of snacks between them. The kid had cheap tastes, of course—it took a little while to find things in the kitchen that Clark had heard of—but Lex had managed to scrounge up some grapes and almonds, and he made a mental note to have a servant pick up some Doritos and Red Vines in case Clark decided to swing by again.

They were both quiet for few minutes while they ate. Lex wracked his brain, trying to figure out how to ask the questions he wanted to ask. They didn't know each other well, so Lex wasn't sure if he should be asking any questions, but then, Clark had come here to talk about his secrets, hadn't he? Besides, Clark seemed to want to be friends. This was how friendship worked, right? Lex didn't have anything to compare it to.

Finally, Clark looked up, his eyes piercing Lex's. "Do you think I'm a freak?"

Lex had to hold in a laugh. The most powerful being on earth was afraid of his judgement. "I've been bald since I was nine. I know what it's like to be judged by people who don't know anything about me. I don't know what you are, Clark, but . . . nah, I don't think you're a freak."

Clark let his breath out. "Thank you."

Lex decided to take a chance. "But who cares what I think, Clark? The question is, what do you think you are?"

Clark looked down. For a second, Lex worried he'd pushed too hard, but then Clark started talking again. "I've been this way for as long as I can remember. Before the accident at the bridge, I didn't know why. After it happened, my dad took me down to our storm cellar and . . . showed me my spaceship. I guess I arrived in it the day of the meteor shower."

Lex's eyes widened. He supposed he had been expecting something like that. It was startling to hear, but not as astonishing as his initial encounter with Clark. "You're an alien."

Clark swallowed. "You're not going to try to dissect me or anything, are you?"

This time, Lex let himself laugh. "Even if I wanted to, my car hit you and there wasn't a scratch on you. You think a scalpel's gonna hurt you?"

"I guess not." Clark squirmed. "Can I tell you a secret?"

"Another one?"

Clark smiled for a second, but it faded. "My parents are afraid of people finding out about my abilities because they think I'll get locked away in a lab and experimented on."

"I got that."

"I'm afraid of that, too, but . . . I'm afraid of people at my school knowing, because they'll think I'm weird."

Lex blinked a couple of times, shaking his head. He'd have given anything to have powers, and for everyone at his school to have known all about it. No one would have dared to try to torment him. "Why do you care so much what people think?"

He shrugged. "Do you know what it's like to go through school as a total loser?"

"Yes. But I'm bald, and the son of a world-class bastard. You have superpowers."

"I've lived in Smallville my whole life, I know how people think. If people at my school knew about me, they'd think I was some kind of freak. I'm a loser either way."

Lex raised his eyebrows. "Okay, but . . . you've got to be amazing at sports. Isn't that how teenagers get to be popular? Couldn't you have any girl you want?"

"My dad won't let me play football. And Lana won't even look at me."

The way Clark said her name was pretty unmistakeable. Lex was pretty sure Clark was talking about Nell's niece—Lex had met her at the stables. "Lana Lang?"

"Yeah. How'd you know?"

She was pretty. Definitely the kind of girl Lex would have gone after when he was Clark's age. "Can't knock your taste in women."

"She's with Whitney."

Ah. Lex thought back to the necklace he'd found that night in the cornfield, and the conversation he'd had with Lana, and he put two and two together. Whitney had tied up Clark out of jealousy. Lana must have given Whitney the necklace, who'd put it around Clark's neck to mock him, but Clark had dropped it when he fell from the pole.

Maybe Lex could help him. Clark wanted to be friends, and friends helped each other with things. Lex could help him get Lana, as kind of a wingman. He was pretty sure that was what a good friend would do.

"Stay here," Lex said. "I've got something."

He stood and made his way up to his study, finding the lead box with the green necklace, then brought it down to Clark.

He opened the box. "You give her the necklace and tell her what happened. That'll give you the power."

Clark stared at the necklace, but he didn't look thankful, or happy, or even nervous. Actually, he looked like he was going to throw up or keel over.

"Clark, you okay?"

He winced. "Can you . . . close the box?"

Lex closed it, keeping his eyes on Clark. As soon as the box was closed, Clark let his breath out.

"Uh, weren't you wearing this in the field?"

"Whitney put it on me when he and his friends dragged me out there."

"Huh. You think Whitney knows something you don't?"

"I doubt it." Clark nodded toward the box. "I want to make sure it's not a coincidence. Try opening the box again."

"You sure?"

"Just do it."

Lex opened the box, and Clark doubled over, gasping. Lex snapped it shut and reached out to put a hand on Clark's arm. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah." Clark straightened up. "I'm fine. But it's definitely the necklace."

"It's weird. It's like you have a weakness."

"I guess so. Maybe it's an allergy."

"So you're allergic to your crush's necklace, but it doesn't bother you when it's inside this box?"

"I guess."

"That's . . . really specific. Maybe it's the materials."

"Maybe."

"The box is lead. What's her necklace made of?"

"The meteor that killed her parents."

"Wow. That's . . ." Lex didn't want to say any of the words that came to mind, so he decided to keep to the subject. "Maybe it's the meteor rocks? Have you had problems around them before?"

"I . . . I'm not sure."

"Isn't Smallville basically covered in meteor rocks?"

"Yeah, but it's not like I keep track of what objects are around me every time I start to feel sick."

"Fair enough." He held the box out to Clark. "I still think you should give the necklace to Lana. You'll win her heart."

"I dunno. I'd feel like I was getting between her and Whitney."

Lex scoffed. "That's the idea. Eliminate the enemy."

"Whitney isn't my enemy."

"He crucified you. He asked to be your enemy. You think Lana should be with a guy like that?"

Clark frowned. "I guess not . . ."

Lex held out the box again, a bit more emphatically. "Take it. You want to play the noble hero, give it to Whitney, or just leave it someplace Lana will find it. She would want her necklace back either way."

"I know, but . . ."

Oh. Of course. "You don't want her to have it."

"I know it's selfish, but I feel so sick every time I'm around her when she's wearing it. It really hurts. And now that I know it's the necklace . . ."

Lex lowered the box. Clark looked so conflicted, Lex almost felt bad for even bringing it up. "Well, you don't have to decide right away. Want me to hang onto it for a bit?"

Clark nodded slowly. "Thanks."

Lex glanced down at his watch. "It's almost 4, won't your parents wonder where you are?"

"No, but they'll get upset if I don't get my homework and chores done, and I have a lot to do." Clark stood from the table.

"I'll walk you out." Lex stood, and they both headed out of the dining room. "I'm, ah, glad I could help you figure out what was causing the problem."

"Yeah, thanks for your help."

Lex bit back a sigh. Maybe he should have tried to make it so the mystery took more time to solve, so he could spend more time with Clark. He wasn't sure what bothered him more—the fact that he was letting such an incredible being, an alien, walk away without getting to learn more about him, or the fact that he might have had a shot at being friends with this kid. His first chance at a real friend in years.

Either way, groveling wouldn't help. "Well, see you around," Lex said.

Clark smiled. "Can I come back tomorrow?"

Lex's heart skipped. He was about to enthusiastically agree, but he held himself back. "Your parents really don't worry about you if you come home late from school?"

"I usually hang out with my friends."

Lex nodded. They had to get this right if he didn't want Clark to be kept away from him more effectively. "Your friends will wonder where you are if you ditch them two days in a row. They'll start to ask questions, and it'll get around to your parents."

"Well, how about I just come to see you on Mondays?"

"No, you can't make it predictable like that. They'll start wondering why you're never around on Mondays."

Clark's brow furrowed. "Then how do I know when to drop by?"

"Well, just come visit when you want to."

"That doesn't work. I want to come tomorrow."

Friendship, definitely. The friendship mattered more to Lex than the fact that Clark was an alien. This was like how he'd imagined having a little brother would be. He would have to keep that in the front of his mind, if he didn't want to let himself get carried away by his curiosity. "I'll let my security guards know that you're allowed to come in any time you like."

"Thanks!"

"But please be careful, alright? I already owe you my life."

"Not anymore. You saved mine, remember?"

"Still don't want you to get into trouble. I don't want anything to stand in the way of our friendship." Lex hoped, again, that he wasn't assuming too much. "Come by next Tuesday. Okay?"

Clark grinned. "Okay."