Chapter 5

As I lay on the grass, in the shade of the big tree, I find myself very conflicted. For the first time in my life, I wish I was like Pam Troy… Someone with absolutely no morals, who had no problem making a play for somebody else's boyfriend… who could take without a thought of the consequences…

Just thinking about yesterday morning, I can feel my face heat up…

"Clark, this is my cousin Liz."

"Hi," he smiled.

What a beautiful man… Is it right to call a man such as this one beautiful? Was the word too effeminate? The thought raced across my mind as I gave him a small wave.

"Hi Clark," I whispered, feeling… what… embarrassed… shy? What happened to the extroverted girl from yesterday, the one who had been openly eyeing this guy as if he was going to be her last meal? The one who imagined performing all sorts of sexual acts on his body? Looking into his eyes, I could see hints of amusement and figured that he was probably wondering the same thing. At this point, I just knew I was blushing, but I couldn't help myself.

Over the course of the night, I had wondered if he really was as hot as I had thought or had my eyes been playing tricks on me, but in the light of day… way better, almost indescribable. Dimly aware that I was staring but unable to stop, I found myself drowning in his eyes.

"Clark, why don't you sit and join us for breakfast?" Aunt Nell spoke, interrupting the staring contest we had going.

He turned towards Aunt Nell, breaking eye contact with me and I experienced an inexplicable feeling of loneliness. I didn't understand… why does this guy affect me so? When I was going out with Max, I thought that the feelings I had then; the intense stares, the need to touch, was the epitome of love – that it was the be-all and end-all and that I would never experience anything like it ever again, and I sincerely thought that I was doomed to an existence without love. Well, quite clearly, I was wrong… I haven't even touched Clark yet, but I imagine and I yearn and I want desperately, I feel something coming alive inside of me and an urgent need to touch.

So, what's holding me back? Well the obvious answer is Lana. I know the hurt I felt when Max threw me over for Tess, and I certainly wouldn't want to be responsible for placing anyone, especially my own flesh and blood, through that type of pain.

So, does this mean that what I felt for Max wasn't true love? What about the whole 'soul-mate' thing? Is what I'm feeling now only hormones, purely lust? How can I know? How can I find out? What if we kissed? What if –

My thoughts come to an instant stop as I see Lana looking up at Clark with apparent adoration in her gaze. On the one hand, I feel an almost primal need to rip her away from him, and declare that he belongs to me… On the other hand, I know that I cannot make any such claim, and I feel a sharp pain at the thought that I will have to watch them together… hugging… touching… kissing… Oh God, I think the bottom dropped out of my stomach, and I feel a sharp pain in my chest… Maybe I should stop thinking – maybe they aren't serious…

"Um, thanks Mrs P, but I already ate, and I have chores to do at home." He turned to Lana, kissed her lightly on the lips and said, "Bye Babe, I'll see you later."

I slowly unclenched my fists, and move towards to the table for breakfast.

"Nice to meet you, Liz. Bye Mrs. P," he called out as he left the house.

I still cannot recall what we spoke about, or what we had for breakfast, but I do remember the jealousy I felt on seeing Clark kiss Lana… But what right did I have, he belonged… belongs to Lana – she met him first. He doesn't even know me. He barely even looked at me when he left. Lana had all his attention. Shit… It doesn't seem to matter how much I try to reason with myself, none of these intense emotions seem to be going away.

Sighing I sit up and look at the open journal and pen lying next to me. I still couldn't write in it, and I wondered if I would ever be able to do so. Ever since Alex's accident, I haven't been able to write down any of my thoughts. Probably because they are all over the place, and I can't seem to focus – look at me now, obsessing over a guy I hardly know, alternating between possessive and yielding, fighting the urge to claim and then backing down to leave him to his girlfriend. Sighing again, I close my journal. I need to get back before dark to prepare for my first day of school tomorrow.

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A/N: Sorry, this one is so short.... the next is much longer, promise. ;-)