Author's Notes: I apologize to the few of you out there who have been waiting for this chapter and perhaps even a conclusion to this little "what-if" story of mine. I see that a lot of other authors, people whose stories I enjoy reading, have had a little fun with the possibility of Lex being a girl. I hope they don't mind me continuing with my own version. I like the idea of there being many of them out there.
How soon is now: I have the next chapter uploaded now. I'm just tweaking it. As far as when next one will be posted… I'm deciding whether or not to continue episodically or do my own storylines with a few FotWs thrown in for kicks. We'll see. Hopefully the next chapters won't take so long to finish. And hopefully my real-life will give me some more time to write.
Future Chapters: Another spat with Dominic, a trip to the doctor, and Whitney. Woo!
Beta: This story hasn't been beta tested recently. I wrote this chapter about two years ago and had it beta'd but it's since doubled in size. I don't want to burden my trusted friend with it again, she's got enough to do, and I don't have time to find another one at the moment.
Feedback: Please feel free to point out my mistakes and tell me if it bored the heck out of ya. I appreciate all comments. I would also appreciate some references for beta readers.
Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to Smallville or most of these characters. They belong to The WB, DC, and MillarGough. I'm just playin'.
Liz woke just moments before her alarm went off at six in the morning. The huge curtains that covered the balcony windows to the right of her bed had been left open the previous evening and were letting in the first delicate rays of sunlight. She turned her head and looked straight up at the oak stained beams that were attached to the elevated ceiling. Lifting herself up, she glanced around the rest of the room. It was decorated in cold wintry shades that were a good match for her mood.
Although Liz hated the castle and its gloomy feel 99 percent of the time it currently seemed a lot more endurable than the cheery green expanse outside.
With a small sigh of discontent and a quick flick of her wrist, she threw the covers off of herself and forced her way out of bed to quickly close the drapes on the view outside.
The uselessness of one arm had not quite registered until Liz eyed the long sleeved dress shirt laid out for her to wear this morning. Despite the protests in her head telling her to always look professional at a place of work, she decided to go casual and settled on a pair of designer jeans, a cream-colored shell, and a loose, burgundy, silk over-shirt.
After laying out the more appropriate attire, Liz looked down at her cast and grimaced at the job at hand. She found the plastic bag and rubber bands that were laid out the night before per the doctors request and secured it around her right arm.
Liz turned on the shower then walked in to clean off the memory of having been in a hospital the previous day. The hot water soothed her aching muscles running over her bare scalp and down her back. In her attempt to not get her cast too wet, she discovered that she was able to move her arm more comfortably than before. She wondered how, in only 24 hours, her arm seemed to have progressed to this state. Surely if the doctor had noticed anything unusual he would have told her. She let herself be content with that knowledge, but resigned herself that if this continued she would have to make an appointment to see Dr. Tyner.
A few minutes later she stepped out of the shower stall and quickly dried off. She reached for her lavender terrycloth robe and placed it on her shoulders tying it securely at the waist then walked over to her clothes and began dressing. Liz managed to get the cast through the arm of her shell and she placed her left arm through the sleeve of the shirt and let the right remain empty, hanging over her cast.
Clothes in place, Liz sat down at her vanity and looked at her reflection. There had been a few small cuts and bruises on her cheek and brow the day before, but now she couldn't even tell she had been in an accident other than the cast on her arm and a grayish-blue tinge under her eyes. She applied a small amount of makeup to cover that up and reached automatically for her usual wig but remembered it was lost at the site of the accident.
Grabbing her replacement wig instead, Liz shook it gently to make the strands fall into a more natural look then positioned it carefully onto her scalp. She tugged the front hairline in position and pulled the back hairline down to the nape of her neck. Picking up a styling comb, she ran it through the strands to make them look looser. With a final check in the reflection to make sure every hair was in place, she made her way down the stairs to the dining area where the long mahogany table was set for one on the end nearest the entryway.
A small petite woman with hair the purest shade of white named Loretta Stanley introduced herself as the cook while she placed a silver covered dish on the table. She smiled and nodded then excused herself to leave Liz alone with her food.
As she lifted the cover and looked over the selection, Liz wondered if Ms. Stanley would take offense if she didn't consume more than a cup of black coffee. The thought crossed her mind that it wouldn't be wise to insult the cook who would be preparing the meals over the next couple of months. She sighed in resignation as she sat down and picked up her fork and knife, cutting a slice of tomato into bite size pieces. The taste that assaulted her mouth made her spit out her mouthful into her napkin. She wondered if this was what all vegetables tasted like here in Smallville.
The title on the front page of the newspaper placed next to Liz's plate made her close her eyes and forget momentarily about the dreadful tomato slice. "Luthor Daughter In Motor Accident."
Liz fought the urge to laugh. Making the front page wasn't a common occurrence for her but when she managed that menial task her full name was never printed, just the "daughter" label. That bothered her more than the absurd yet apparent fact that her accident was enough to make front page news in this small town.
With a sigh Liz took a sip of coffee then opened the paper up to the stock market section noticing that the Luthor Corp. stocks were up a half point. Not really enough to make her father ecstatic, but it was doing better than last week which meant he wouldn't take the headline quite so seriously when it reached him.
"Is everything alright, Miss Luthor?"
Liz looked up from her paper to see Mrs. Stanley smiling down at her expectantly. "Yes. And please, call me Liz. I'm not one to use formalities."
Mrs. Stanley's smile widened in what Liz thought might be relief. She could only imagine what it must be like to work for someone she only knew by reputation.
"Very well. Is there anything else I can get you… Liz?"
"No, thank you." Liz watched the cook turn to leave but thought she might ask about the tomatoes while she had the chance. "Mrs. Stanley?"
"Yes?"
"Who is currently supplying the vegetables for the meals?"
"We get them shipped from Metropolis."
Liz nodded. "I was hoping they would be local."
"No. But the Farmers Market is Saturday morning. Maybe you could check out the local suppliers and decide on a suitable one."
"Thank you. I might do that." Liz watched Mrs. Stanley turn and leave.
By the time Liz finished her paper, and what she hoped was enough food to make Ms. Stanley happy, it was time to leave.
On the drive to the LuthorCorp. building, Liz hoped she would get there before Dominic, her father's assistant. It had been three years since she had last seen him. Lionel had him escort her to England when he decided it would be best for her to go to school there. Dominic's job had been to make sure she was settled in her new home.
Just the move alone had been overwhelming for Liz. Going someplace new was never easy for her and the uncomfortable feeling was magnified with being in an entirely new country.
If she hadn't had an anxiety attack the night of her arrival, it might not have taken four weeks for Liz to finally have Dominic convinced, enough to tell Lionel, that she was stable enough to make it on her own without him being there.
Yet, the four weeks might have turned into months if she hadn't caught him using her apartment to entertain a guest while he thought she was away getting acquainted with the school.
Liz knew Lionel thought the motor accident was similar to the anxiety attack in England. A ploy in hopes of gaining his attention. And now she had Dominic there again as her punishment. But she would never try something like that to go back home. And even if she had, she knew Lionel would just send his assistant to handle the mess. Which was why the entire situation was frustrating.
The car slowly pulled into the company parking lot and came to a stop directly in front of the building. Liz told the driver to wait then made her way inside.
Many people stopped what they were doing to stare at Liz in what she assumed was the initial shock of her being here after the accident. Either that, or maybe her decision to go casual wasn't as good an idea as she had originally thought. But at least Gabe Sullivan gave her a small sympathetic smile and a quick good morning before she walked into her office.
It was with much frustration that Liz found the man she was hoping to avoid sitting comfortably in her leather chair, lazily typing on her computer. Her first impulse was to demand that he leave. But she couldn't let her emotions win out.
The sound of the door closing shut was what finally caused the piercing blue eyes of Lionel Luthor's assistant to leap up off the computer screen he'd been looking at. A sardonic smile crept across his face as he rose from his seat to greet his guest. "Elizabeth!"
Dominic did up one of the buttons of his charcoal gray suit jacket as he walked around the desk. He folded his arms neatly across his chest and lifted his head slightly in an act of superiority that amused Liz rather than intimidated her. "Have you come to make sure I don't mess with your things?"
"Possibly." Liz gave Dominic a polite smile she used when handling strangers then started walking around her office making sure everything was still in place. She could feel Dominic's gaze on her as she moved some objects around a fraction of an inch from where they were.
"I'm going to assume you still have some ill feelings towards me after all this time."
Liz picked up an artifact she hadn't seen in the office before off of a glass shelf then spoke in a bored tone, "Now what would give you that impression, Dominic?"
"Well, I'm not allowed in the mansion for some unknown reason."
"I was just worried you might bring your girlfriend. What was her name?" Liz turned her head to garner Dominic's reaction. There was a slight pinkness high on his cheekbones that wasn't there earlier, and she thought his expression was priceless.
Dominic quickly cleared his throat then asked, "How is your arm feeling?"
Liz let out a quiet laugh at the abrupt change in subject. "It's fine, thank you for asking." She immediately began rummaging, one-handedly, through the file folders in a string of file cabinets that lined the wall. She became distracted from her search when she heard Dominic stepping up behind her.
"I was informed about the incident with Mr. Gaines," Dominic paused and reached around Liz to take the folder she had just retrieved. After looking through the folder for a few moments, he continued, "Did he threaten you?"
It only took a moment for Liz's annoyance to subside long enough to remember the encounter. She turned to face her father's assistant and answered as calmly as she could. "Of course he was very angry at the time. But I'm not worried about him trying anything radical."
Dominic nodded and gave Liz back the folder he'd taken. She could see the doubt lingering in his eyes when he spoke again. "Still, it's best to be safe in situations like these. I'll let your father know about it and see to it you have the proper security at the mansion."
The last thing Liz needed was an army of people lurking around the castle. She could hardly stand the fact that there were maids and butlers to bump into at any moment as it were. She missed her simple, little one-bedroom apartment in England now more than ever. Even a small dorm room sounded like heaven to her right now. Also, she couldn't bare the thought of Dominic staying here longer because of there being a threat to her safety. She squared her shoulders and looked Dominic in the eye with the most demanding look she could manage. "I don't think that's necessary. There is enough security at the mansion, and I would certainly know if I was in any danger."
A look of determination was etched across Dominic's face as he looked at her. "I'm not taking any chances."
It was difficult to reason with Dominic when he had his mind set on something, and Liz was well aware of that fact. With a sigh, she conceded. "Just talk to my father before you make any decisions."
"I think he would respect my wishes."
Before Liz could stop herself, she rolled her eyes and replied sarcastically, "Your loyalty astounds me."
Dominic grabbed Liz's right arm firmly and looked at her with a fierce expression. "You could be hurt. While I'm here I will do everything in my power to make sure that doesn't happen. When I'm gone you can do whatever you wish."
Liz's mouth opened slightly in shock. She was surprised by this sudden display of emotion. Whether it was brought on by an ingrained fear of Lionel should the man's daughter be hurt under his watch or something more; Liz wasn't sure, but she wasn't going to push the issue any further.
Schooling her features, Liz shook the arm in Dominic's hand in an attempt to free it However when he did not take the hint, she spoke in an icy voice, "Let go."
Dominic's eyes widened in panic as if he had just realized what he had done and immediately released his hold on Liz's arm. "I'm sorry…"
Liz cut him off with a swift wave of her hand and an exhausted tone, "I'm going home. Call me if there's an emergency."
The door was slammed shut on the next apology out of Dominic's mouth.
"Earth to Clark!"
Clark looked up with a start into the sparkling green eyes of Chloe Sullivan's serious face. He didn't know how long he had been caught staring at the computer screen, but he was certain it had been a while judging from the slightly annoyed look on the head writer's face. "What?"
"Are you through checking the article for grammatical errors yet or do I have to sic Pete on you?"
Clark replied honestly, "Oh, No. Not quite… almost though."
"Clark! Principal Kwan is already on my tail about getting this paper finished on time." With a sigh, Chloe shook her head in defeat at the blank expression on Clark's face. "Five minutes, no more. Or I'm screwed."
With a small grateful grin, Clark replied, "Thanks, Chlo."
Chloe rolled her eyes in return. "Whatever. I want to see that," she tapped her fingernail noisily on the glass screen of the monitor for emphasis, "done in five." She then turned on her heels and started sorting papers.
Exhaling slowly, Clark tried to go back to concentrating on what he was doing but the words, "Luthor Daughter In Motor Accident" kept flashing across his vision. He knew he shouldn't be looking at the front page of the Smallville Ledger's Website. In fact, he shouldn't even have been online when he was supposed to be working, but he was curious if the accident would be reported. Though, he never imagined it would be front page news.
At first, Clark thought that maybe this wasn't the same accident, but there weren't that many motorcycles in Smallville, and it was too much of a coincidence that this accident happened the same day he saved a young woman from crashing against the bridge.
After finishing the article, Clark decided that the most troubling aspect of the whole thing was that it was a well-known individual instead of a wandering stranger. Not to mention that this 'celebrity' of sorts was taking up residence here for the next six months at least, quoted from Nell Potter, Lana's aunt. The idea of running into Liz on the streets of Smallville made Clark extremely nervous. Not because he did anything wrong, but because he didn't want to face the situation right now or at all if he could help it. Even if it meant avoiding Lana, school, the Beanery, and anywhere where there were people.
The one thing about the accident that troubled Clark the most was that it happened so fast he didn't have time to control his strength or speed. If he had been normal, Liz Luthor would be in a coma at the very least. And if she remembered anything, she would know that was true. Which meant, he had just shown his abilities to a complete stranger.
Thankfully, there was no personal statement from Miss Luthor. He just hoped it stayed that way. The only statement that could possibly link him to the scene had been made by a nurse at the hospital saying that Miss Luthor had been delivered to the hospital by a young man. No identifications were made and Clark couldn't have been more relieved. Maybe he wouldn't have to become a recluse.
"Isn't that amazing! A Luthor back in town. Just what we all need."
Pete's spiteful voice caught Clark off guard, and he swerved around in his chair to look up at the angry face of his friend. "What do you mean?"
"This girl's father forced my father and uncle into selling their creamed corn factory over to him for practically nothing only to turn it into a fertilizer plant."
Clark searched his mind for the few conversations he had overheard about the Ross' factory. "But I thought that they were well compensated."
"Yeah, that's what the Luthors want you to think." Pete rolled his eyes and let out a sigh. "If my family had been able to keep their factory we would have been millionaires."
Clark shook his head. "I didn't know that, Pete."
Pete shrugged. "Hey, it happened a long time ago but it brings all of the memories back when I see the 'L' name. Anyway, I heard that the plant is doing badly. That's why Mr. Luthor sent his daughter here to fix the problem. But I really doubt she'll stay here long after that accident. It doesn't look like it was pretty."
Chloe peeked in between the two heads blocking her view of the computer screen. "Hey! Stop reading the Ledger, Clark, and get back to work." The feisty blonde reached up and grabbed the top of one of Pete's ears gently and tugged a little. "And Pete, stop distracting Clark. I need you over here."
Pete gave out a loud yelp of pain and replied, "Yes, ma'am!"
Clark chuckled and then tried his best to get through the day without thinking about the newspaper article.
For Liz, the nightmares always start disguised as a fond memory. Simple, pleasant thoughts would lull her into a deep slumber before everything changed for the worse. Usually it was the caw of a crow that signaled the change, but this time was different.
Liz should have forced herself awake the moment the dream started to take shape, but she wanted to try and control her fear and possibly end the dreams once and for all.
This time she wasn't a little nine-year-old girl, but twenty-one and reliving the entire experience of the meteor shower from 1989 as if it was happening at that moment.
Wearing a dark gray business suit, Liz stood in the middle of a deserted street in the middle of the day as the sun beat down on her shoulders. She tried to open the doors of the different stores lined up along the street, but they were all locked.
With her heart pounding, Liz let out a cry of frustration when the last door was bolted shut. As she walked back into the street, she felt the heat of the sun vanish as a dark shadow loomed over her head. Looking up, she saw a huge meteor rock falling towards her at a very fast pace.
Liz started to run away but the tip of her shoe got caught in a crack on the road causing her to trip and fall painfully hard onto the black pavement.
Just when she thought the meteor should have crushed her, a gush of wind enveloped her in a thick green fog.
As Liz came to, a young man walked through the pale green dust that surrounded her. He wore well-worn jeans and a flannel shirt, but his hair was black, not strawberry-blonde like she usually remembered. His eyes were a deep green yet there was a familiarity behind the kindness shown there. He spoke softly as he picked her up, "You're going to be fine. I'll protect you."
Liz woke with a jolt and opened her eyes. She lay still for many moments as she tried to become aware of her surroundings. Her hand grazed the back of the blue, velvet settee she was laying on. The action caused the light to reflect on the face of her wristwatch and she noticed the time. It had only been an hour, but it seemed like much longer to her.
As Liz tried to collect her thoughts about the dream, her hand itched to reach for the phone. Aaron had always been there to help her with that task, saying that every dream means something, even if it's a reoccurring one, it's just the mind's way of helping us organize our thoughts.
The man who had helped her in 1989 was Jonathan Kent, but in her dream he had changed into the young man who had saved her on the bridge two days ago. Mr. Kent had rescued her in Smallville, and now this person had, but Liz couldn't help but think there was more of a connection than that.
Liz got up and walked over to her writing desk to retrieve some paper and a pencil. She began sketching the features of the male she saw in her dream, careful not to leave out any details. When she had finished, she looked at the drawing and shook her head. She knew she was making too much out of this. In fact, she would be chastising Aaron for doing this exact thing if he had been here. With a sigh of resignation, she sat down her sketch and made her way to the powder room.
A few minutes later, a light rap on the door startled Liz as she was splashing cold water onto her face with her left hand.
The voice of one of the maids came through from behind the door. "Miss Luthor, Lana Lang is here to see you."
With a small sigh, Liz called out, "Just give me five minutes and then bring her into the living area, please."
"Yes, Miss Luthor."
Liz gently patted her face dry with a powder-blue hand towel then stood and checked her reflection in the mirror. Her hair was in order and a quick glance down showed that her clothes weren't wrinkled too badly. She refrained from taking the time to replace her make-up and opened the powder room door to make her way to the living area. A moment later she heard Lana's footsteps coming down the hall.
"I hope I didn't come at a bad time."
"No, I'm not busy at all. In fact, I was getting bored. Please, have a seat."
Lana looked nervously at the basket in her hand for a moment then handed them over to Liz. They were full of brightly colored Gerber daisies in seemingly every shade of the rainbow. "These are for you. Nell sends her love."
While holding the basket by its white wicker handle, Liz lifted it up to her face and smelled the peppery scent of the flowers then smiled. "Thank you, they're lovely. I'll set them here," she said as she set the bouquet in the middle of the coffee table.
There was an awkward moment of silence before Liz looked up from positioning the daisies. "Not that I mind the company, but what brings you here, Lana?"
Dressed casually in a yellow sweater and beige slacks, Lana sat down at the edge of a pale gold colored chair and crossed her legs before clearing her throat and speaking. "I was worried about you. I saw the article in the paper and had to see if you were all right."
Liz sat across from Lana in an identical chair, smiling in an attempt to relieve the tension that seemed to be building. She could tell Lana was uncomfortable about something but chose to answer the question instead of asking one herself. "Other than my arm being broken I'm doing well. I don't think I'll be riding my motorcycle anymore. For which my father is eternally grateful."
A smile graced Lana's lips before she emitted a soft chuckle. She quickly became serious again with a glance at Liz's arm and scooted up further on her seat, her eyes filled with concern. "Are you in any pain?"
Liz paused, not wanting to seem weak. She self-consciously rubbed her left hand slowly over her bandaged appendage and exhaled slowly. "The pills the doctor gave me help. Other than some slight discomfort, I hardly feel a thing."
"That's good."
Liz watched Lana fidget for a few moments, noticing how distracted the girl seemed, before asking, "Lana, is everything all right?"
As if just realizing she had been caught staring, Lana quickly shook her head. "Yes. I just couldn't help but notice that drawing you have on the table."
Liz quickly looked down at the lacquered surface and spotted the piece of paper. She was embarrassed to have left it out in the open, but was encouraged at the idea of Lana identifying the face. "Do you recognize him?" She questioned, picking up the paper and handing it over to Lana.
Lana took the representation of the young man into her hands. "He goes to the same school as me. I know it's none of my business, but why were you drawing him?"
Liz could barely conceal her surprise when Lana said she knew him. She thought it too good to be true. "He saved my life. I thought if I could get his features on paper maybe I could find him and thank him."
Lana's eyes widened in shock. "Clark Kent was the person who brought you to the hospital?"
Liz's eyes mirrored Lana's at the mention of the name Kent. All of the pieces were finally coming together in her mind. 'Like father, like son,' she said to herself. "Yes, I believe he did."
Lana shook her head and furrowed her eyebrows. "I can't imagine Clark Kent being so chivalrous."
Liz paused and considered the comment. She thought maybe her drawing was off, but the name Kent still had to mean something. "Is it possible that I've exaggerated features? I'm not an artist by any means."
"No, I recognized him immediately. That's Clark." Lana grinned and tilted her head to look at the image again before saying, "I'm just shocked. He's such a quiet person."
With a grin of her own, Liz spoke quietly, "Sometimes people can surprise you."
People were already rushing around the large school cafeteria trying to find seating as Clark made his way to the long line of hungry kids.
Today's lunch was cheese pizza and salad. Clark didn't care for the salad but the pizza was definitely something he wanted and the line didn't seem to be getting any shorter. He peered over the girl in front of him and saw that there was an argument going on over the size of the slice of pizza a boy was getting compared to his friend's slice.
Clark scoffed at the idea of getting so worked up over food then sobered when he put himself in the kid's shoes. "Poor kid," he muttered to himself.
"I know. The lunch lady really should learn how to cut those things evenly."
The fake seriousness of the voice behind Clark made him start and almost lose the tray he was carrying. He quickly turned his head and did a double take. Lana Lang was speaking to him and kidding around. With him! Clark Kent! Not Whitney, who was currently looking at them from where he was sitting with his football buddies. Clark ignored the glare and looked back at Lana. He wasn't feeling nauseous like he normally did around the girl of his dreams, and chalked it up to finally having gotten over her. But he knew that was a lie as he dropped the tray he was carrying when she blinded him with the most beautiful smile he'd ever seen. Apparently his arms weren't adjusting as quickly as his stomach.
"Let me get that." Lana stooped down to retrieve the fallen plastic serving dish.
Clark could do nothing but stand and stare until Lana placed the tray back in his hands. "Thanks."
"No problem." Lana searched Clark's face for a moment before speaking again; "I was wondering if you would join me for lunch, Clark."
Clark's eyes bugged out and he looked over at Whitney to see him still glowering their way. He had to ask, "What about Whitney?"
Lana crinkled her nose up at him. "I don't have to eat with my boyfriend every day, do I?"
Clark stiffened at the word boyfriend. He knew she and Whitney were serious, but he was hoping that they had split up. It didn't quite go along with his fantasy if Lana was still with the quarterback. Yet he mustered up a smile nonetheless, and replied, "Oh, well then, sure."
"Good." Lana smiled up at Clark again and then nudged his tray into his stomach gently. "I think the line is finally moving, Clark."
Embarrassed once again, Clark immediately turned back around and walked the short distance to where hot pizza was being served. Once he had his lunch, he made his way over to the nearest available table. Lana trailed behind him and sat down across from him.
Before Clark could grab his piece of pizza, Lana leaned over to inspect his slice then she looked down at her own. After a few moments, she nodded her head in approval and said, "Looks even to me. We can eat now."
Clark chuckled and then proceeded to dispose of his pizza, taking a big bite out of one end.
Lana did the same and the two simply enjoyed their lunch for a while before she said, "I was wondering if you had read about Liz Luthor moving into town."
Clark nearly choked on the pizza he'd just stuffed into his mouth as he inhaled sharply at the mention of Liz Luthor. After a quick swallow of water he nodded calmly. "Yes, I read the article."
Lana eyed him suspiciously but didn't comment on his reaction. "I spoke with her yesterday about the accident. She said a young man helped her to the hospital."
Clark picked at his salad trying not to seem nervous. "I think I read about that." Wanting to change the subject, but at the same time wondering just how close Lana was to Liz, he asked, "How do you know the Luthor's?"
Lana smiled. "I don't actually, but my aunt is friends with Lionel Luthor. Liz contacted us when she got into Smallville and we've remained close since."
Clark couldn't do more than nod and place a forkful of lettuce into his mouth. He chewed for a few moments trying to come up with something to talk about other than Liz Luthor.
Lana broke the silence. "Wouldn't it be weird if the young man was in this school?"
Thinking of nothing to say, Clark just nodded.
"I mean. Liz wants to reward the boy for his kindness. She's very wealthy. I'm sure she would give him anything if he would come forward."
Clark was beginning to get angry at where the conversation was heading and snapped, "What if this boy doesn't want to be rewarded? What if he just wants to go about his life as if nothing happened?"
Lana stared at Clark with an incredulous expression. "In this school? I don't think so. Maybe if the young man was you…"
Clark stared at Lana with a defiant expression.
"Are you trying to tell me something, Clark?"
Clark's face reddened when he realized how his words sounded. He stood, gathering up his trash then weakly stated, "I'm not saying anything, Lana. I'll see you later."
School went by in a blur for Clark after lunch and consequently his conversation with Lana. He had been shocked when she mentioned the accident. He had been hoping for a more friendly conversation about something silly like the latest South Park episode or even something boring like horses but apparently the only reason Lana had wanted to speak to him was because she thought he was the 'hero' that saved Liz Luthor.
It bothered him that Lana was so close to knowing. He wondered what kind of information Miss Luthor had discussed with Lana.
What if Liz did remember the speed he used and the strength with which he grabbed a hold of her arm and she told Lana about it?
Clark ran his left hand through his black hair and let out his breath slowly, pausing outside the school.
"Hey, Clark."
Clark turned around to see who called out to him and found Whitney and a group of football players standing behind him sneering. He knew something was wrong with this picture, but he couldn't quite figure out why. "Whitney. What's going on?"
Whitney walked closer to Clark and suddenly Clark started to feel woozy with each step. "Funny, that's what I was going to ask about you and Lana."
Clark grimaced and stared at Lana's necklace hanging around Whitney's neck. "Nothing's going on."
"Nothing, huh. Then why are you staring at her necklace? Do you want it? You can have it. Because that's all you'll be getting from her!"
Clark immediately looked up at Whitney, trying to plead with him. "No! I don't want it." His plea fell on deaf ears as the other football players circled him and knocked him to the ground. The last thing he remembered before passing out was Whitney kneeling in front of him and fastening the necklace to his neck.
...to be continued...