Author's Note: I apologize if any of the days seem off, but they never really specify whether or not it is a weekend, though they do tend to spend three or four days in a row out of the classroom. Anyway, I have been improvising. I hope that's okay. So far, things are following Smallville pretty accurately, but the more Chloe does, the more things she will change until some pretty big events get altered. That is the plan anyway. I also apologize for taking so long to update. Things have been a little crazy for me, and on the rare occasions that I actually had time to write, I had writers block. I think I am clear now though. Enjoy Chapter Six.

Chapter Six

When I woke up on Monday, I was a little surprised to find Lana still asleep. Normally, on a school day, she would be up and ready to go by now. At least, that's how it's been since I got here.

"Lana," I said, gently shaking her.

She stretched out a little and yawned. Her hair was splayed out on her pillow, but even with bed head, she was strikingly beautiful. Sometimes I hate girls like that.

"What?" she said through her yawn.

"We're going to be late for school."

Lana turned over and checked her alarm clock, "School doesn't start for three hours." She said, and then turned back over.

"What?" I asked, surprised.

"Sorry. I keep forgetting you're new. See, in Smallville, during harvest season, the school opens late on Monday because so many of the students come from farms and they need to help their parents out at the farmers market."

Backwards hick-town. Oh well, no school. And Clark came from a farming family, so if I went to the farmers market, I could probably run into him.

"Well, are we going to the farmers market?" I asked eagerly.

Lana nodded, "but not this early. I'm not a farm girl. Nell does like to pick up some produce, but buyers do not have to go in as early. Don't get me wrong, the farmers market can be fun, but I like to take advantage and sleep a little later on farmers market Mondays. I'll get up soon, get dressed, grab some cereal, and then we'll go."

I nodded understandingly. Okay, so I had some time to kill. It occurred to me that I could go on ahead, but seeing as this was my first farmers market, I might be safer tagging along with Lana.

When we left, it was not with Nell. It turned out Lana wanted to catch a ride with her boyfriend, Whitney. I sat in the back, brooding, and shooting daggers at Whitney. By now, Lana knew how talkative I could be, so she was a little thrown by my sullen sulking.

"Is everything okay?" she asked, turning to me.

I shrugged bitterly.

Lana nudged Whitney, implying she wanted him to attempt to make conversation with me. Maybe she was worried I was feeling like a third wheel. Nope. I just really hated the second wheel.

"So," Whitney tried, clearing his throat, "You're new right?" Real clever this guy. I remained silent, "Made any good friends, I mean, other than Lana?" he asked, trying again

"Actually, yes." I responded, venom in my voice, "Clark Kent is my friend."

Whitney shifted a little uncomfortably, "Really. He's that freshman, right?" Jerk. Pretending he did not know who Clark was.

"Clark's a sweet guy." Lana said.

Whitney nodded, "He seems nice."

That's when I snapped, "Really, because when I think somebody seems nice, I rarely strip them down to their boxers and hang them up in a field with an S painted on their chest!" I huffed. I heard Lana gasp slightly. I admit, my anger got the better of me. I was trying to keep quiet about it; it was a bit humiliating for Clark and he probably did not want it made public knowledge, but Whitney just made me so mad. Besides, Lana could keep it to herself. I think she would if I asked her to. And she should know what her oh-so-sweet boyfriend was capable of.

"Whitney, stop the car." she said.

"Lana-" Whitney started, but she cut him off.

"Pull over now!"

Whitney did as he was told, pulling over at the side of the road. Once we had pulled over, Lana got out of the car, slamming the door behind her. Whitney got out, and I watched them argue for twenty minutes. I could not hear them, and I cannot read lips, but there were a lot of exaggerated hand gestures so I am guessing it was serious. When Lana got back to the car, Whitney was running after her.

She opened my door and said, "I'm walking the rest of the way; do you want to come?"

There was a little irritation in her voice, but I knew it was not directed at me. As much as I preferred the comfort of a car to hoofing it, riding with Whitney had been bad enough with Lana there.

I quickly hopped out and joined Lana on the road. Whitney chased after her a little, but finally gave up and returned to his car.

Walking was a lot more painful than I would have thought. Sure, it was a small-town, but there was a reason we had been driving. It was a far way to walk, and I was not exactly what you would call athletically inclined. My feet were killing me. I decided to try and distract myself.

"Are you okay?" I asked Lana. She shook her head. "Look, I'm sorry you had to find out like that, I just got so mad, and-"

"Chloe, you have nothing to apologize for, believe me. Whitney's the one who … I mean, I have been with for almost a year. I thought I knew what type of person he was. I never would of thought he could do something so, so-"

"Juvenile, cruel," I offered, "malicious, immature, brutal, vicious, vile, inhuman, sadistic, depraved-"

"I get it." Lana said, stopping me, "I just… you know what his excuse was."

"'It was just a prank, lighten up.'" I said, in my best dumb jock voice. Lana laughed a little at my impression but her fury quickly returned to her face.

"Aside from that." the exasperation was clear in her voice, "He said that he saw Clark and I talking alone and he got jealous."

"So his natural response was a brutal and humiliating attack." I replied sarcastically.

Lana laughed bitterly, "Not only does he not trust me, but instead of talking to me about it, he takes out his completely unfounded jealousy on Clark in the worst way possible. He had absolutely no right to do that. Clark did nothing wrong. He's a sweet guy."

Something registered in my mind, "When did you talk to him?" I asked.

"What?" Lana asked, confused.

"You said he saw you guys talking at got jealous. When did you guys talk?"

"A few nights ago. He was upset about something, I think he ran off, and I ran into him. You know, it was the craziest thing." Her face started to soften at the memory, "I'm trying to comfort him, because he is so upset that he's run off, and somehow my parents come up in the conversation, and suddenly, he's comforting me, whatever was bothering him totally forgot." She seemed far away. Maybe she had forgotten I was there, "It was like the second he noticed I was upset, whatever was bothering him didn't even matter. How many people will just forget their problems to comfort someone else? And it was something big too, I could tell. He was really upset. But somehow, after he saw I was upset, it just didn't matter to him anymore. He just tried to make me smile again. He was so sweet." Lana shook her head, stepping out of her memory, "He did not deserve what Whitney did to him."

I was a little stunned. For a millisecond, I almost felt bad for Whitney. Almost. What he had done was wrong, and I still officially hated him, but he had been right about one thing. He definitely had a reason to be jealous. Lana might not see it yet, might not want to see it, but she was falling for him. I suppose I should not have been surprised. They were supposed to be high school sweethearts, after all.

"And you know what else?" Lana said, her fury back in full force, "I gave him my favorite necklace before the homecoming game, for luck. And he lost it. He knows what it means to me. I never take that necklace off. And he lost it. And he was not even going to tell me. He was just hoping I wouldn't notice until he was able to track it down."

Necklace! The necklace around Clark's neck! Lana had a kryptonite necklace! How was that possible?

"What does it look like?" I asked, "Maybe I've seen it."

Lana sighed, "It's a green stone on a chain."

"Well, that doesn't sound like anything unusual. Maybe you could get another one, go back to the same supplier?" I ventured, hoping to find out where she got it.

Lana shook her head, "No, it's one of a kind."

"Tons of people say things are one of a kind to get you to pay more. Where'd you get it from?"

"It was …specially made for me." Lana ventured slowly. I looked at her quizzically. She sighed, "I was hoping, since you are new and everything, maybe one person in Smallville wouldn't know my tragic tale, but, well, my aunt had it made from, um…" she paused. I could tell this was hard for her. Then, suddenly, I figured it out, and everything fell into place. Clark had told me that her parents had died in the meteor shower, so a big block of kryptonite had killed her parents. The necklace was made just for her, as a memento, to make her feel close to them. It was made from a piece of the kryptonite that killed them. That was how she got it. There was no evil plot, nobody out to get Clark, nobody knowing his secret. It had all been a coincidence. I sighed a little.

"It's okay." I said, putting my arm on her shoulder, "It's okay."

We kept going for a while, and I felt lucky to be with Lana, because otherwise, I would be terribly lost. I had not told Lana that I knew about her family. The anonymity seemed important to her, and she deserved it. I had not told her that I had the necklace either. I could not give it back. Intentional or not, her wearing that necklace could hurt Clark. I remembered what she had said about Clark last week, "Every time I see him, he looks like he is about to be sick." I had assumed that was just part of his act, so people would assume he was a weakling, but that had not been it at all. Being near Lana had made him physically ill, but now, her necklace was gone. Clark would be safe. I felt proud, protecting him, but my pride was soon replaced by pain as my sneaker caught on a rock and I fell forward.

I caught myself on my hands.

"Are you okay?" Lana asked, rushing to help me up.

"I think so." I said, but as she helped me stand, I found myself collapsing again. I looked down, and saw that the rock I had tripped on was in a cluster of rocks, all of which were sharp. I had twisted my ankle and my leg had a deep gash going down it, with gobs of blood pouring out. I winced. "Or, maybe not so much."