AN: Sorry for the delay. I've been posting my fiction onto my LJ so that I could get better feedback from my fans. So far I've come up with some really great things, like pictures of what I think Jason looks like as he grows up! I also decided to record a section of the text so that I could better show my readers how I "hear" Jason. If you are interested in following the fic over on LJ, please come and visit me! alphielj dot livejournal dot com.

This chapter isn't as angst riddled as some of the ones on the past. I thought it would be nice for Jason to have a good day for once. The betas agreed with me. In case you are wondering, Jason plays Chopin's Nocturne in E flat Major Op. 9. I have a link to the song at my LJ should you like to hear it. I chose this piece because it is the only piece I ever took to contest, so it has special meaning to me.

Many thanks to Hellish Red Devil for her undying encouragement. She write the best e-mails! And to htbthomas for chatting with me on the phone about plot devices and how to work an LJ. LOL! You both totally rock!

Age 14 – Clear as Crystal

Meredith Madison was looking at me. Meredith-quite-possibly-the-most-beautiful-girl-in-school-Madison was looking at me. She smiled and flipped her perfectly curly, dark auburn hair over one shoulder. Her rich, brown eyes briefly glanced down, away from me, and then met mine again. She blushed, and I was certain I was blushing, too. She bit delicately at her full, pink bottom lip and I nearly came undone. Oh, good Lord, she was so pretty! Did she have any idea what kind of an affect it had on a guy to watch a beautiful girl bite her lip while she looked at him like that? Probably not. Then again, maybe she did.

To my surprise, she got up out of her chair and walked over to me, smiling that flirty, feminine smile of hers. My eyes fell from her face, down her body, to her hips. She had the most perfectly shaped hips and they swished just enough as she walked. Oh, man. Maybe I shouldn't have looked at her hips. Maybe I shouldn't have looked at her at all for now I was in a right dreadful state that was sure to get me in trouble.

"Hi, Jason," she said in a lilting, musical voice.

"Hi, Meredith," I said with an embarrassing squeak. Being fourteen really did suck. I wasn't sure which was worse; uncontrollable hormones or waiting for my voice to change.

"I saw you looking at me." She bit her bottom lip again, and my mind went fuzzy.

"Was there something you wanted?" Her eyes were doing that puppy-dog thing that girls were so good at.

"I wanted—"

She leaned closer to me, and I was immediately drawn to her breasts.

"You wanted…?"

"I wanted to—"

She gently brushed my bangs out of my face, letting her fingers run down the side of my face and linger on my neck. "You wanted to what?"

I was speechless. I was immobile. I couldn't do anything but stand there and look at her and let my body react the way it wanted to react.

"Jason," she sighed.

"What?"

She tugged on my arms. "Come on."

"Where?" I would go anywhere with her right at that moment.

"JASON!" she yelled suddenly. "COME ON!"

"Huh?"

"WAKE UP!"

I woke with a jerk, closing my eyes once again as I listened to my mother pounding on my bedroom door.

"You told me not to let you sleep past nine this morning. Well, it's nine, so get out of bed."

I moaned, wanting to fall back into my dream where Meredith Madison was flirting with me rather than deal with my mom shouting at me. But I had asked Mom to wake me up. Today was a pretty big day for me. I would be participating in my first piano contest and I had planned on getting up early enough to practice my piece and still have time to relax before the event. Still… it was only nine, so I figured I could afford a few more minutes of my sleepy, imaginary fantasy. It may have only been a dream, but my reaction was very real.

I'd had a crush on Meredith all year long - ever since she moved to Metropolis. She could play piano, too, but she also sang. She was in choir and had a solo in the winter concert. I wasn't that good of a singer. I mean, I could hold my own, but I wouldn't be singing a solo any time soon! If it meant being able to get to know Meredith better, I would be in choir in a heartbeat! As it was, I hadn't spoken so much as five words to her. She would say hi to me in the hallway and my insides would turn into an unmanageable pile of goo. One of these days, though, I would talk to her. I'd make sure of it.

I exhaled deeply and then yawned into a long, back-bending stretch. Slowly, not really wanting to come out of my hazy, lustful thoughts, I blinked my eyes open and stared up at the ceiling. I'd have to get moving before mom came up here again. I'd have to get out of bed and start focusing on the reality of today rather than the hopeful longings of tomorrow… or next week. If ever I got up the courage to even talk to Meredith.

I cleared my mind of all things Meredith and focused on today. The dots on the ceiling looked like notes and for a moment I imagined I was looking at my sheet music. But only for a moment, for when I blinked again, the notes were gone. More specifically, the dots were gone. I squinted up at the ceiling, not quite believing what I was seeing. The white plaster faded from sight, followed by the wood of the house, and finally the tiles of the roof until I was looking up at the sky.

I blinked, shaking my head in disbelief. That hadn't just happened, I told myself. But when I looked back up at the ceiling again, everything slowly faded from view until there was nothing but blue sky and white clouds once more.

"Whoa!" I said, sitting up and immediately closing my eyes. I tried to shake it off again before opening my eyes. When I did, I chose not to look up but rather look around my room. I turned toward my door and fixed my gaze on the white paint of the wood until it became nothing more than a clear, see-through sheet of nothingness. Out in the hall I could see Mom coming towards me. I shut my eyes and groaned.

"Jason?" she said, knocking on the door. "Answer me so I know you're awake."

"I'm awake," I replied, once again looking around my room in uncertainty.

"Get dressed and come on down," she said before heading down the steps.

I sat on the edge of my bed, determined to ignore what was happening to me, and looked down at my hands. "Just don't look at the walls. Walls vanish," I said to myself. "Just… stay calm and… get a grip."

Yet as I tried to calm down, the skin on my hands started to thin and fade away, revealing bones and veins, until that too vanished through to my legs.

"UGH!" I screeched, shaking out my hands in repulsion. "That's nasty!"

My eyes darted all around my room. Surely there had to be something in this room that wouldn't vanish if I looked at it. But the harder I looked, the more things disappeared. If I kept my eyes moving, then things were fine. But the moment I paused and actually looked at something straight on, it would fade and I would see what lay past it. When I tried to stand up, the floor would fade away, which made me so dizzy I nearly fell down.

I cringed and fell face first into my pillow. "This is not happening," I mumbled to myself. "Not today. I need to be able to see today!"

There was no way I could look at my hands while playing the piano if all I was going to see were blood vessels and bones. I would vomit on myself if I had to look at that again.

"JASON!" Mom shouted at me, but this time she had actually opened up my bedroom door. "It is a quarter after and you told me to really lay into you if you didn't get up at nine today."

"I know," I moaned into my pillow.

"So, get out of bed," she ordered.

"I can't," I whined. "I've got…a little problem."

"So help me, Jason, if you say you want to drop out of the contest I'm going to—"

"No, that's not it."

"Then what is it? And will you please look at me when you talk to me?"

I groaned. "No, I can't. That's the problem."

"What?"

"I can't look at you."

"Why ever not?" She sounded irritated.

"Because I won't see you?"

With a huff she said, "What are you talking about?

"I won't see you. I'll see bones and blood and gross stuff like that."

She paused a moment. "What?" Her voice had dropped significantly lower.

"I'm seeing though things, Mom." I explained reluctantly.

"Oh, no," she said softly. "Is it…X-ray vision?"

"No, Mom, I just normally see people's bones," I answered sarcastically. "Of course it's X-ray vision. What else could it be?"

I heard her heart race increase dramatically. "Can you see… anything?"

"If I keep my eyes moving, then I'm fine. But the moment I focus on anything, it just sort of, well, disappears."

"Okay. Okay. Just don't panic." Panic? I didn't think I was panicking. Somehow, much to my surprise, I was much more calm about this than she was.

She hummed thoughtfully and said, "I'm going to get your father."

"What can Dad do?" I replied as I heard her footsteps retreating from my room. It took me a fraction of a second to realize that she wasn't talking about Dad. She was talking about…

"Wait!" I shouted, opening my eyes and taking what little time I had with normal vision to chase after her. "Mom, please!"

She whirled around and I noticed the look of surprise on her face just before her skin started fading away. I closed my eyes tight. "Don't tell him," I pleaded.

"What?"

"Just don't. Please."

She took my hands in hers to steady me. "Jason, I know things haven't been smooth between the two of you, but this is not the time to—"

"This doesn't have anything to do with that," I said, even though I knew it did to some degree. "It's just that…" Oh, man, how to explain this to her. "Every time something weird happens to me, you run and fetch him."

"Because he's the only one who can understand what's happening to you!" I couldn't see her face, but I knew she had to be gaping at me.

"I get that, but have you ever stopped to consider how crazy that makes me? That it makes me feel as if I can't do anything on my own? Just once I want to be able to do something without having to run for help."

"But Jason," she took my hands, "when a baby is learning how to walk, the parents make sure he doesn't fall down. When a child is learning how to read, the teacher makes sure he knows what the letters mean. Everything we do we have to be taught."

She had a strong point, but my will was stronger. "Mom," I risked opening my eyes to look at her for a moment. "Every time I see him I feel like he's making a list of the things I can't do. Just once I'd like to show him what I can do."

She sighed. "But the contest today…?"

"I'll make you a deal," I said, once again opening my eyes for a moment. "I don't play until two forty-five. Give me until noon to see if I can get a grip on this. If I'm not getting any better with it, then I'll call him myself."

"You'll call him?" It wasn't hard to miss how enthused she sounded at the prospect of me being the one to go after him.

"I will. But you have to let me try this on my own for a while."

"Okay," she sighed in uncertainty.

"How's it coming?" Dad asked from the doorway.

"It's not. What time is it?" I asked bitterly with my eyes shut tight.

"Ten thirty."

I groaned in reply.

I heard Dad's footsteps as he came into my room. "Can you play the piano with your eyes closed?"

"I could," I sighed. "But I've never practiced it that way. Besides, I don't want to go in there looking like an idiot."

He sat down on the floor next to me. "Can you tell me why you are on the floor?"

"Because I get dizzy when I try to walk. The floor disappears, and you have no idea how difficult it is to walk when you can't see what you are stepping on."

"Like walking in the dark?"

"More like walking on nothing. I know the floor is there, but what I see is under the floor. I can see downstairs and even below the house to what's under the earth. It's annoying."

"I—" Dad started and stopped abruptly.

"What?" I said, taking a quick glance at him, which was just long enough to see him frown.

"I wish I could understand what this is like for you, Jason. I wish I could say that I know what you are going through, but I'm a little out of my field of experience here."

"It's okay," I sighed.

"No, it's not okay. You're my son – regardless of your biology – and I don't like it when you are faced with problems that I can't help you with. Losing your vision…"

I looked at him again. "Dad, it's not like I'm blind."

"I know, but you are having trouble seeing things, right?"

I nodded.

"If only I could give you something that wouldn't vanish. Something that you couldn't see through."

I gasped and immediately knew what I had to do. "That's it!" I exclaimed, gaping at him. "Dad, you're a genius!"

"I am?"

"Lead!" I said, taking the risk to look at him long enough to see the realization cross his face before I looked away again. "I should have thought of it sooner. Superman can't see through lead." My eyes darted around my room as I mumbled, "Lead… lead… anything made of lead…"

"LOIS!" Dad called out.

Mom darted into my room. "Did he do it?"

"Do we have anything made of lead?" he asked her while I continued my search.

I heard her inhale sharply. "Why didn't I think of that?"

Inspiration hit me suddenly, "What about a pencil – a lead pencil?"

"Pencils aren't made of lead," Dad said over his shoulder.

"They aren't?" I said.

"Nope, graphite. Ever heard of lead poisoning?"

"Then why do they call them lead pencils?"

I watched for a moment as my Dad shrugged and turned back to Mom. I shut my eyes tight just as everything started to fade again.

"I'm going to go find something he can use. Anything. If it costs a fortune, I don't care. I'll be back as soon as I can. In the meantime, you two look around the house and see if we already have something." His feet pounded on the steps as he raced down the stairs. A moment later I heard his car pulling away from the house.

"Well, we obviously don't have lead paint on the walls or I wouldn't be seeing through them," I said to Mom.

"No, but I do have something." Her voice was soft and hesitant.

"We have something made of lead?"

She took my hand and started pulling me towards the steps. "We have to go outside."

I let her lead the way, opening my eyes every few seconds to make sure I wouldn't trip and fall over anything. Once we were on the deck, she maneuvered me over to the side of the house were her "garden" was kept. "Right here," she said.

I opened my eyes to see her pointing at one of the large planters that Dad thought were ugly. "The planter?" I asked, fixing my gaze on it and expecting it to vanish. But it didn't. It remained solid. I squinted harder at it, willing it to disappear, but to my great relief, it didn't. I stole a quick glance at Mom. "Awesome!"

Squatting down on the ground, I fixed my eyes on the planter and tried to determine what it was about the lead that made it impossible for me to see through. There had to be something, right? I wondered about the properties of lead and if there was something I just didn't know.

"Hey, Mom, do me a favor, will you?"

"Anything."

"Can you do an Internet search on the properties of lead and read to me what you come

up with?"

"Sure thing."

In another few minutes, Mom was sitting on one of the lawn chairs with her laptop in front of her in the middle of a Google search. "Let's see, according to the Wikipedia encyclopedia, lead has an atomic number of eighty-two. It's a heavy, toxic poor metal… bluish-white when freshly cut… used in construction… has the highest atomic number of all the stable elements..."

That caught my attention. "What was that last one again?"

"It has the highest atomic number of all the stable elements."

I thought about that for a moment, putting all my science skills to work in the process.

"Does that mean something to you?"

"Yeah, it does. The atomic number of an element is equal to the number of protons in the nucleus. Maybe that's what keeps me from seeing through it. My vision is based on the density of the nucleus." I took a quick glance over at Mom to find her with a look of total confusion on her face.

"You're not speaking my language, honey. Sorry."

Mom never was good in science. "My vision has nothing to do with the objects. It's the basic molecular structure that causes me to see through things." It was then, as I looked at my mother, that I realized she was still solid. I blinked and looked harder, waiting for her to begin to fade from my sight, but it never happened.

"I can see you," I said in amazement.

"That's good then," Mom said in relief, but she spoke too soon.

I shut my eyes tightly and shook my head in frustration. "I thought I had it – that maybe it was gone."

"Or maybe it was looking at the lead that made you able to look at something else without seeing through it," Mom hypothesized.

"Maybe," I drawled, opening my eye to look at the lead planter again. "It's interesting that we have this thing. How did you even know it was made of lead?"

"Well, see, that's um… that's um…" Her heart rate started to increase, which tipped me off to her answer.

"He told you it was made of lead, right?"

"Yes," she answered quietly.

I nodded wordlessly, curious as to just what he had tried to see on the other side of the planter that would have made him aware the object was made of lead, but for some reason I didn't ask. I didn't really like hearing stories about Mom and him, and I was sure from the way her heart fluttered that it was something she remembered fondly.

Going off of Mom's idea, I spent a good amount of time focusing on the planter and then looking away at various objects to test how long I could go before the X-ray vision kicked in again. As time went on, the interval between the times I needed to look at the lead increased to the point that I was ready to try to play my piano piece. I took a good, long look at the planter and then darted into the house to my piano. After a deep breath, I started in on my piece.

I lasted through the first movement and was well into the second when my normal vision began to fail me. I swore under my breath, hoping Mom wouldn't hear me, and snapped my eyes closed again before continuing the piece. I found that I could get through the piece without looking at my hands on the keyboard, but it was difficult. The nocturne my piano teacher had selected for me had several big jumps, and even though I knew the feel of the jumps from all my rehearsing, I didn't trust myself to be able to hit the correct notes every time without the aid of my eyes to guide me.

It was around eleven thirty when Dad came home and was able to provide me with the very thing I needed to be able to get through the rest of the day.

"You wouldn't believe how difficult it is to find anything made of lead!" he announced, entering the house with a bright smile on his face. "But have no fear, I was able to come up with a few things and I settled on this." He handed me a rather heavy, bulky object shaped like an elephant.

"What is it?" I asked.

"It's a paperweight! I also found an antique set of little revolutionary toy soldiers that I thought were a bit overpriced, but I could go back and get them if you think those would work better."

"No, this is great," I assured, looking closely at the lumpy bit of lead in my hands. "I can keep this on the piano while I play so that if my sight starts to fade, I can look over at this and refocus."

"Is it getting any better?" he asked, placing a hand on my shoulder.

"A little. I think I'll be okay long enough to play my piece."

He smiled warmly. "I'm proud of you, Jason, for working this out on your own."

"Thanks," I shrugged. "I did have some help."

Mom came around the corner. "How's it going?"

"Dad found a lead paperweight." I showed it to her.

"Oh, well that works perfectly."

Dad seemed to stand up a bit straighter. "You mean… I saved the day?"

Mom leaned into him. "My hero." And then she kissed him.

I rolled my eyes and groaned. "Yuck. Please, take it into the other room before I get nauseous. One complicating health problem today is enough."

Dad ruffled my hair before he and Mom left me to practice my piece in solitude.

By three thirty that afternoon, I had somehow managed to make my way through my nocturne without looking like an idiot. The paperweight stayed in my pocket and came out from time to time when I just couldn't hold on to a solid image any longer. And, of course, it sat on the piano right where I could see it while I played. It had been about a half hour since I had finished my piece, and now all that was left to do was wait for the scoring.

One of the judges approached with the list from the last set – the list my name would be on. Next to me, Mom squeezed my hand in a reassuring parental gesture. Once the judge moved out of the way, teenagers everywhere swarmed around the list, each trying to read their score. Standing at the back of the crowd, I wondered if my newfound ability would actually come in handy for the first time.

Squinting through the mass of people, I ignored any internal organs that came into focus and concentrated on what was just past them – on the wall – the thin piece of paper.

"Jason?" Mom said beside me.

I held up a finger and said, "Shh."

The paper came into view… along with the list of names printed on it. It took all my might to stop right there and not see what was on the other side of the wall, but somehow, incredibly, I managed to do it. I scanned the list, finding my name near the bottom. Next to it was a number nine.

"Nine," I said under my breath.

"Nine?" Mom repeated.

I shifted my focus to her face, blinking back the urge to see past her in the process. "Yeah, I got a nine."

"Ninth place?"

"No. Just nine. A seven is a perfect score. There are seven areas that we are judged on earning one point in each area if it's perfect and up to five points if it's not so perfect. Nine means that I only got marked down on two things. It means I got a first place."

"So this is good?" Dad smiled.

"This is… really good." It was more than good. More like amazing. Considering it was my first time at solo and ensemble competition and I competed in division one… and the fact that just a few hours earlier I couldn't exactly see correctly. In fact, while Mom was hugging me, I realized that this meant I would be going on to the state competition. This was wonderful!

"Congratulations, Jason," a soft, high-pitched voice said from behind me.

I spun around too quickly and very nearly fell over in the process. "Hi, Meredith," I squeaked. Damn changing voice.

"You got a first, right?" Her green eyes sparkled like emeralds.

"Um… yeah. Yeah, I did," I muttered.

"On piano? Or did you sing?"

I nearly choked. "Piano. I don't, um, sing very well." She smiled and my brain went a bit fuzzy.

Somewhere in the back of my mind I registered that Mom and Dad had conveniently walked away from us.

"So that means you're going on to State?"

She stepped closer to me – close enough that I could smell the peachy scent of her shampoo.

"Um, yeah. Yeah. What about you?"

"Oh, I got a first, but I didn't compete in division one."

I frowned at her. "Why not?"

"I'm just a freshman, and I'm not that good of a singer."

"Are you kidding me?" I said before I could stop myself. "You have a great voice."

She blushed, turning the most beautiful shade of pink. "Thanks, but I wanted to wait until next year. I guess I just wasn't brave enough to try for it this year." She looked up at me from under her thick, black lashes. "Not like you."

I gaped at her, not knowing what to say. "Thanks," was all I could think of.

She smiled brightly and gave a cute, little shrug. "Well, I have to get going. Congratulations, again."

To my utter surprise, she went up on her toes and pressed her soft lips against my cheek, kissing me. My head was spinning, my heart beating more fiercely than it had ever beaten before. And my body… well… there was no way to stop the response from happening.

She walked away from me, glancing at me once over her shoulder before darting off down the hall to where her family waited for her. Her skirt flourished behind her, and I couldn't help but notice the slight bounce of her chest as she stepped. Oh, man, she was so pretty. More than pretty. She was beautiful. The perfect body. Which my brain suddenly told me I could have a look at if I really wanted to.

A quick, piercing slap on my cheek snapped me out of my lustful thoughts.

"Stop that right now," Mom ordered.

"What?" I tried to play innocent.

"I know what you are doing and you are not going to get away with that. So, stop it right now."

I felt my face grow hot as I tried desperately to play like I didn't know what she was talking about. Beside me, Dad started chuckling under his breath.

"Don't encourage him!" Mom scolded him before turning her back on us and leading the way out to the car. Dad gave me a quick wink before he followed behind her.

By eight thirty that evening, I'd come to realize three things about this newfound super power of mine. First of all, I could do more than just see through things. I could magnify them if I wanted to, which came in really handy when trying to see something at a far distance. Second of all, I found out that I had difficulty walking around while using it. I ended up bumping into people and various things more times than I cared to admit. After all, I wasn't looking at anything in front of me – I was looking past those things to what was just beyond. The last thing I learned was that if I used it too much, I got a splitting headache.

I'd just spent the last forty-five minutes or so wandering the streets of Metropolis looking into various apartment buildings trying to find the one man who would best appreciate what I had accomplished today. I wanted to surprise him with this news and I figured the best way to do that would be to show up at his front door, proving that I could see him though the walls of his building. However, that meant I had to use my visual powers pretty much nonstop until I found him. It was a great relief when I finally saw his familiar face.

Head pounding, I entered the lobby of his building to find a security officer sitting behind a desk.

"Can I help you, son?" he said in a gentle voice.

"Yeah, I wanted to see one of my friends."

"And your friend's name?"

"Clark Kent," I said rather hesitantly.

The guard looked at me rather suspiciously before he pulled out a booklet and began flipping though. "I'll have to see if you're on his list of permitted guests. What's your name?"

"Jason White."

His finger slid over the page, coming to a stop in the middle. "I'm sorry, son, but Mr. Kent only has one name listed here – Lois Lane."

"That's my mom!"

Again the guard eyed me with curiosity. "I'll have to call up to see if I can let you in the building."

I frowned. "But I was hoping to surprise him."

He smiled an odd smile at me. "Sorry, but those are the rules. No one gets into the building without prior authorization from a tenant." He dialed a number and pressed the speakerphone button. Clark answered after only one ring. "Mr. Kent, this is Frank Hudson down at the front desk. How are you this evening, sir?"

"I'm fine, Frank. What can I do for you?"

"You have a visitor, Mr. Kent. There is a Mr. White to see you."

"Perry?" he said instantly.

"No, sir, a Jason White."

There was a long pause of silence as the guard waited for Clark to respond. I felt the guard's eyes on my face and knew that I was turning red. Maybe Clark didn't want to see me. What would I do if he told the guard to send me away?

"Should I admit him, sir?" the guard asked.

"Yes, um, send him on up," Clark said rather casually.

I sighed in relief, exhaling the breath that I had been holding and headed to the elevator.

"Third floor, Mr. White," the guard called to me.

I waved and thanked him, stepping into the elevator. My ride up three floors seemed incredibly short. There was a nervous knot in my stomach that I hadn't had until I heard Clark's hesitation to being asked if he wanted to see me. I just assumed that he would be excited to hear my news, but maybe he wouldn't. Considering that every assumption I'd ever made about him had been wrong, what made me think I was right this time? My headache pounded, only serving to further increase my worry.

When the doors opened, I found myself face-to-face with Clark, glasses and all. "Hi," I sighed, giving him a smile.

"What are you doing here?"

Not even a hello? I could understand him being upset, but at least he could say hello. "I came to see you," I answered.

"Why didn't you call?"

"Because I wanted to surprise you."

"Well, I'm surprised."

I felt like crawling back into the elevator and running out of the building, but I had come to tell him something and I couldn't leave until he knew. "Are we just going to stand out here in the hall or can we go into your apartment?"

"Oh! Sure, come on." He placed his hand on my shoulder, directing me down the hallway to the door marked Apartment D.

Once inside, I couldn't help but notice how sparsely decorated the place was. White walls, mismatched furniture, and nothing to embellish the walls. There were a couple of pictures on the mantel, but that was it.

"How long have you lived here?" I asked.

He shrugged. "Eight or nine years. Since I came back."

I gaped at him. "It looks like you just moved in."

"Well, I'm not here very often, Jason."

"Has Mom ever been in here?" I wasn't sure why I asked, but since her name was the only one on his list, it only made sense that she would have been here at some point.

"Once," he confirmed. "When I first moved in." He leaned against the back of his sofa. "It surprises me that she gave you my address and let you come here without calling to let me know you were coming."

"That's because she didn't give me your address," I said with a smile.

"She didn't?"

"Nuh uh," I said with a smug shake of my head. "She doesn't even know I'm here."

His brows furrowed together. "Where does she think you are?"

"Well, see, I had a really good day today and I told her that I wanted to go out and celebrate with my friends when I really wanted to come and find you so that I could tell you about everything that happened today. She thinks I'm out with Marcus."

"You lied to your mother?" he scowled.

I scowled right back. "I did it so I could see you. I couldn't really tell her that I was off to see Clark Kent, right? So, I had to lie."

"Why didn't you just tell her you needed to talk to Superman?"

"Because I wanted to surprise you!" I repeated for the umpteenth time. "The only way I could do that was to find Clark – not Superman."

"And how did you find me?"

"I looked for you."

"Looked?"

"Yes," I snapped. "With my eyes. Through the buildings. Looking for you."

Our rushed conversation came to a brief stop as he considered my words. "You looked through the buildings?"

"Yes! Like with X-ray vision!" I shouted. I'd wanted to tell him about my new ability in a good way, so I felt badly for having it burst out like that. I forced my voice to drop in volume and explained, "When I woke up this morning, I saw the sky instead of the ceiling and the earth instead of the floor. It took me forever to figure out how not to see through things."

He blinked, staring at me intensely. "Why didn't you call for me?"

I groaned. "Because I wanted to—"

"Surprise me," he sighed. "So you said."

"I thought you'd be impressed that I'd managed to figure it out on my own."

He closed his eyes. "I'm sorry, Jason. I shouldn't have been so hard on you. I'm just upset that you didn't tell your mom where you were going."

"She's the one who said I needed to talk to you, so in reality, I'm just doing what she said."

"But you didn't have to lie to her to do it."

"Why not? You do. You lie to her all the time."

I'd apparently hit below the belt on that one. "It's just that I don't like the idea of you being out at night without Lois or Richard knowing where you are. How long did you look for me, anyway?"

I shrugged. "I dunno, an hour maybe."

His eyes went wide. "You have been wandering around Metropolis alone for an hour?"

"So?"

"Jason! Good grief!" He threw his arms up in the air. "What do I have to say to you to make you understand that it isn't safe for you to do things like that?"

I was livid. Here I had come to share with him what I thought would be some exciting and wonderful news, and he was getting all high and mighty with me. "It wasn't like anything happened to me."

"No, but it could have!"

"What would have happened?" I shouted. "I would have heard anyone coming. I would have seen anyone coming. And it's not like anyone would have been able to hurt me, anyway. I mean, I don't feel pain like I used to." Except for the pain in my head right now from all this shouting, but I wasn't about to mention that.

"That doesn't excuse it or make it right for you to just—"

"Oh, God, just forget it," I sneered, going to the door. "I thought that you might like to know I did something right for once, but it looks like I was wrong."

"Jason," he said calmly, "come back and let's talk."

"No!" I growled. "You don't want to talk – you want to scold me." He always chose the worst times to try and act like a parent.

"That isn't what I was doing. I just need you to understand that it's dangerous—"

"For me to be around you. Blah blah blah – it's always the same thing. I just thought that for once I could tell you something nice and that you'd be excited about it. 'Cause you know, I did have a really great day. I mean really great… until I talked to you."

His face fell. "Oh, Jason, no. Please. I would like to hear about your day."

"Forget it," I opened the door. "I'm just going to go home now."

I was three steps down the hall when he said, "Will you call your mom and tell her where you are, please?"

I shot him a look over my shoulder. "Why don't you call her?"

He pursed his lips. "Why don't I take you home instead?"

"You mean Clark will take me home?"

He glanced around the empty hall, taking in the surroundings. I did too, trying to figure out what he was looking for. I could hear his neighbors in their respective apartments, watching TV and having normal family conversations. No one even knew we were out in the hall.

After what seemed like an eternity, he said, "It can't be Clark, Jason."

"That's what I thought." I turned and headed toward the elevator, pushing the call button and then crossing my arms in front of me.

"Was your contest okay today?" he asked worriedly.

I looked back at him, shocked that he knew about the contest.

"Lois mentioned it at work the other day – that you were playing a nocturne."

"Yeah," I answered after a moment. "It was fine… once I figured out how to stop things from vanishing. I got a first."

His eyebrows went up. "First place?"

"No, just a first. They don't give first and second place. It's like you compete against yourself for the best score possible. I got a first."

"Is that good?"

"Yeah, hence the fact that I had a good day," I answered sarcastically.

He smiled, but it was a sad smile. "I'm happy for you."

I wondered if I should tell him the rest of it – about Meredith. I wanted him to know that not everyone thought I was abnormal, so it just spilled out of my mouth. "And this girl I like, she gave me a kiss on the cheek."

He licked his lips in thought. "You're a little young for a girlfriend."

"It was just a kiss on the cheek!" I bit out.

"I know. I just – you should – be careful."

I rolled my eyes. "Whatever." As if he had any right to talk.

"Jason, I just—"

"When was the last time you got kissed?" I snapped. Instantly, I felt badly for having said it. The look on his face was gut-wrenching and he stopped talking altogether. At least I knew now where to hit if I wanted him to shut up, I thought half-heartedly.

The elevator doors opened and I stepped in. "I have to go. Bye."

"Bye, Jason," he whispered.

I slumped against the back wall of the elevator with my eyes closed, feeling incredibly guilty for saying something so hurtful. Yet at the same time, it angered me to no end that he hadn't been happier for me and my accomplishments. I honestly thought he would have said he was proud of me – that his son had done so many good things today. But I was horribly wrong. Dad said he was proud of me. Why couldn't Clark do the same thing?

Why did I even need to tell him, anyway? Why did his opinion matter? He wasn't there every day. He only popped in when things went wrong. If it really mattered to him what I did with my life, he would come around more often, right? So, it shouldn't matter to me what he thought…but it did.

I had had a great day. It may have started off badly, but I worked it out. I figured out how to use these alien powers on my own. I placed first in a competition and earned the right to go on to the next level. And the prettiest girl in school liked me. She kissed me. It was a fantastic day. I wasn't going to let someone like Clark Kent ruin it for me.

On my way out of the lobby, the security guard waved to me and said, "Have a nice night, Mr. White. We'll see you again."

Under my breath, I mumbled, "I doubt it."