Author's Note: Part of the following chapter is told in the third person. That is because it is a scene that happens when Chloe is not present, thus, she could neither narrate nor be informed of it. Scenes of this nature will likely surface again, but I will try to avoid it as much as possible unless specifically asked to do otherwise.

Chapter Three

After school, I was hanging out in The Torch office. There had to be some reason Clark was not interested in reporting. It was just too bizarre. Getting home would have to wait until this was fixed.

I searched the school directory and got Clark's home number.

"Hello?" a kind female voice said on the other end. That must be Mrs. Kent, I thought.

"Hello, is Clark there?" I asked. There was a pause.

""Hold on a minute, please," said Mrs. Kent. Then, I heard her call out, "Clark, can you come here."

I assume he came, then there was some muttering, and then, his voice, "Hello?" he said. He seemed very unsure. Judging from the ruckus it created, I am guessing he does not get phone calls often.

"Hey, it's Chloe." I said.

"Chloe?" he sounded confused. That was when I realized I had never actually told him my name.

"Um, the girl you hit with your truck."

"Oh. Hey." He seemed a little more relaxed now that he had identified me, "Um, what's up?"

"Well, nothing really. It's just I'm new, and I don't really have any friends. I was thinking we could hang out sometime. Like I could come over and we could work on homework together or something."

"You want to come over and do homework?"

"Yeah, sometime. I mean, you know, if it's okay." I think he only partially heard me, because I heard some noise in the background.

"Um, my mom wants to know if you plan on staying for dinner?" he asked, uncomfortably.

"No, I didn't mean … um, sure." I said. I had only meant it as a general statement, not necessarily a right now thing, but why wait.

"Okay. When should we expect you?"

I looked at my watch, "I can be there in fifteen minutes. I'm at the school, so I'll have to stop at home first."

"Okay, well, you just take a right and-"

"I know where it is. I've been there before, remember?" Actually, I had been in such a rush to get out of there at the time, I had not really taken much note of where it was, but considering I was living with Lana now, I figured I could find my way across the street.

I heard Clark chuckle. "Right." He said. "Well, see you then."

"See you." I said. I felt giddy. I was going over to The Clark Kent's house for dinner.

Mr. and Mrs. Kent were staring at Clark suspiciously. He fidgeted a little uncomfortably, "I have friends." He said defensively.

Martha Kent smiled, "Oh, we know that sweetie. It's just that a girl has never called for you before."

"So. Look, it's that girl I hit the other day. She's new in town."

Martha nodded, "So, you two are … friends now?" she asked, curiously.

Clark shrugged, "I don't know. I barely know her. Maybe we'll be friends."

"Well, do you think she's cute?"

"Mom!" he said in that embarrassed way teenage boys do when mothers are prying into their personal lives.

"Sorry." she said, "I'm just curious. Doesn't a mother have a right to be curious?"

Clark shrugged again and slinked upstairs.

Jonathan looked at Martha. "What?"

"He's a teenage boy, Martha."

"I know what he is, Jonathan."

"I certainly never spent time talking to my mother about you."

"Well, I should hope not." Martha chuckled. Jonathan pulled her in and kissed her.

I knocked lightly on Lana's door.

"Hey," she said, opening the door, and flopping back onto her bed. She had been reading something. I could not see the title, but I had come to see that she was a pretty avid reader, and I decided it did not really matter what she was reading. "How was your first day?"

"Full of surprises." Lana looked at me curiously, "Anyway, I'm having something of a wardrobe malfunction, and I was wondering if I could borrow something."

Lana and I did not exactly have the same taste, but remember, I had not exactly been expecting this little trip, so I had no money, and pretty much only the clothes I had on me. Lana and her Aunt had let me use their washing machine, but there are only so many ways you can change the same outfit to make it look different. Besides, I was dining with the Kents tonight. I needed to look special.

"Sure. Closets over there, take what you like." Lana said, pointing in the direction.

"I have to say." I said, trying to make conversation, "I am surprised by your hospitality. I did kind of just show up on your doorstep and basically invite myself in."

"Sometimes you just need a home. Lord knows I know what that feels like. Nell took me in; it would not be very grateful of me if I didn't pay it forward."

"Yeah, I've been meaning to ask you about that. Why do you live with your aunt?"

Lana looked down, "My, um, parents passed away." She said quietly. Oops.

"Oh."

"So, what's the special occasion?" She said. Suddenly, she was all smiles. No wonder she was a cheerleader, she could fake pep with the best of them.

"I'm going over to the Kents for dinner." I said, trying to sound casual.

"Oh." Lana said, fairly uninterested. It was not as big a deal to her as it was for me, but she tried to act interested, which I guess was nice. "How do you know them?"

I considered telling her about Clark hitting me with his truck, but I decided that would be pretty bad press for the future Man of Steel. "Well, Clark goes to school with us."

Lana nodded, "Yeah, he does."

"Are you two friends?" I asked curiously. I knew they were supposed to have a thing in high school, so they probably knew each other a little.

"Not really. I mean, he seems nice, but he doesn't talk much."

I nodded and assembled a suitable outfit. Next thing, I was off.

Mr. Kent opened the door. Well, I assumed he was Mr. Kent. I recognized him from before. He smiled at me warmly.

"Hi Mr. Kent." I said politely. I had wanted to bring a pie or something, you know, to make a good impression, but I did not really have anything to work with. "I'm Chloe." I say, putting my hand out.

"It's very nice to meet you Chloe." He said, taking my hand, "Clark will be right down. You can wait in here for him, or you can wait in the loft if you'd like."

"The loft?" I asked, raising my eyebrow curiously.

He nodded, "Let me show you." He walked me out to the barn. Everyone knows Superman grew up on a farm, but you never really think about that bit when you are focusing on The Man of Steel. Mr. Kent pointed up some steps, "Clark likes to do his homework out here." I surveyed the loft. There was a couch, a desk, and a telescope. There were some books piled up on a coffee table. It seemed like as decent a place to work as any. "Martha will holler when it's time for dinner, so you kids can feel free to stay out here until then. If you need anything, feel free to come in and ask." He headed back into the house, and I settled into the couch. I looked at the books on the table. They were mostly on astrology, which I guess explained the telescope. There were also a couple sports books, and a few schoolbooks. If I did not know any better, I would think Clark Kent was just your average teenage boy. Although, I did not see any copies of Playboy, which made me smile.

"Hey." I heard a voice behind me say. I turned to see Clark in all his glory, all decked out in flannel plaid again.

"Hey. I see you're into astronomy." I say, pointing at the telescope. He squirms a little, "I wasn't trying to snoop, or anything, I just noticed it. It's not a bad conversation piece." I see him relax a little. He climbs up the steps and I notice him casually turn the telescope slightly. Hm. "So, what's your favorite constellation?" I ask, trying to make conversation.

He smiles awkwardly, "I like Gemini, one of the zodiac constellations."

"Why?"

"Well, it looks like these two identical people holding hands sort of, which is where the name came from. And I figure, having somebody just like you out there, a family member you can never get separated from, you'd never be lonely." He gets a sort of far off look, then clears his throat, "So, what do you want to work on?" he asks, taking his books out.

"Well, the math is giving me a bit of a headache."

"Well, you are in luck then; math and science happen to be my specialties, just don't ask me to explain poetry to you or anything."

I chuckle. We spent the next few hours basically just doing the homework thing. I mean, I want to help him find his way to journalism, but I do not want to scare him or anything.

Dinner with the Kent's was pretty amazing. They really go all out, rolls, meats, and vegetables. They all sit down together and eat and talk. They are like the picture perfect family. It is like being in a fairytale, but then I remember I kind of am.

The next day, I am totally psyched to go over to Clark's. I will make a reporter out of him, I know I will. Aside from my mission though, I will admit I am just plain excited to see him. We do not really have a lot of the same classes or the same lunch period, so I did not get to see him much during the day. I spend a little extra time at The Torch, and then I head to the Kent's with my backpack.

"Hello." I call as I walk inside. The door was left open. Odd considering the huge secret that this family is keeping, but they probably have their reasons.

"Mr. Kent! Mrs. Kent!"

"Chloe." I hear a greeting from behind me.

I smile as I turn around, "Hi Mr. Kent. Is Clark around?"

"He's not home yet, but you're welcome to wait."

"Really? School let out over an hour ago." I say curiously. I myself would have been there earlier if it weren't for The Torch.

Mr. Kent chuckles and smiles at me, "Clark runs a little late sometimes." Well, that is ironic for the fastest man alive. "Please, sit." I plop myself down on the couch and take out a book as I wait. In truth, I would be much more interested in getting to know Clark's dad, but that might be a little too obvious, not that they could ever in a million years suspect the truth about who I am or how I got here.

The phone rings, and Mr. Kent answers. "Hello." I strain to listen, but unlike Superman, I do not have super-hearing. I can, however, use my journalist skills of reading body language and facial expressions. "Yes." His eyebrows turn down, not a positive sign, "What, where?" he says, his tone slightly louder than necessary. He also said it very quickly. Concern, alarm, possibly even fear. So far, that is my analysis. "What happened?" he sounds impatient now, frustrated. Mr. Kent is silent for a long time. What I would give to know what was being said on the other end. Mr. Kent's face clenches, and then he says, "Thank you for telling me. I'll be right there."

He hangs up the phone hard and heads to the door. Then, he seems to remember I am there, and he stops. He looks at me, and I smile and shift uncomfortably, "Um, is everything okay?" I ask.

"Yeah." He says as he puts his jacket on, "Some idiot drove their car off Loeb Bridge and Clark apparently fished him out. I have to go pick him up… feel free to wait for him in the loft."

"Is there anything I can do?" I ask. My mind is wondering if this is the first small-town hero act Clark has committed, but I am trying to act as concerned as possible.

"No, thank you, just, uh …" he pauses, "Just, don't tell my wife before I get the chance to tell her."

I nod understandingly.

About an hour later, I hear the Kent truck pull up the gravel. I have been working on my homework for the past hour, so I am glad for a break. Okay, that is a lie, because while I did do some homework, I also used my laptop to try and find out if Clark has any history of saves, but apparently, this is the first one. Still, it is exciting.

"Hey." He says to me as he walks into the loft, "my dad told me you were out here."

"Yeah. I figured we could work on homework together."

"Okay." He says. He seems distant as he plops his backpack down beside him and sits on the couch.

He just sits there, turning pages for a few eternal minutes until I cannot take it anymore.

"So," I say, "I thought reading to ladies in nursing homes would be acceptable community service to get me into a good college, but I guess you just raised the bar a little, huh."

"What are you talking about?" he asks, looking at me blankly.

"Hello, Clark, you saved someone's life." I say, standing up, "That's a big deal! It was your first big heroic act!" Okay, tone it down a little fangirl.

Clark looks at me, "I'm no hero."

My eyes get wide, "What are you talking about? Clark you saved someone's life, if that's not a hero-"

"I didn't do anything. Not really."

"You dove in after a stranger and saved them from an early watery grave. Do you know how many people would have just kept on walking?"

"Would you stop!" Clark says, his voice a little angry. He stands. For the first time since he walked in, I really look at his face. I scan his features, and get caught looking in his eyes. They look so strange, haunted almost. He is scared. Genuinely scared. He is terrified in fact. He is not just being modest; something about my words scares him. He looks so lost, so confused. He is not in any way the confident man I was expecting. I feel myself stepping back a little, but never breaking eye contact.

He sighs and looks down, "I'm going to go get us some snacks." He mumbles and then he heads down the stairs. What just happened?