The Love of His Life - Chapter Four

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Chapter Four

Chloe pretended to be asleep when Clark returned home. It wasn't out of anger over the whole scene with Lana. She genuinely needed to get to sleep to start the next day bright and early. Well, early if not exactly bright. He stood beside the couch for a moment and Chloe was sure he could tell she wasn't really asleep. He undoubtedly thought she was mad at him. She was glad when he opted to walk away quietly without trying to wake her.

Of course the next morning neither of them mentioned Lana's visit in front of Martha. That would have only brought on a fight and Chloe wanted to keep the peace as much as Clark did.

It wasn't until noon that Clark came in from the fields. While Chloe and Martha were exhausted and pouring of sweat, and their faces were flushed from work, Clark looked cool and energized.

"I'm going in to make some tuna salad sandwiches," Martha said. "Want to come in and cool off?"

"Nah, I'll sit down in the shade for awhile," Chloe said.

"I'll call you to come and wash up when it's ready."

Chloe grabbed the hose and dumped water over her head and lightly sprayed down her chest, arms, and back. She'd cut off the old jeans she'd worn when she arrived in Smallville and now her bare legs looked lightly burned. She sprayed them down too.

Clark made no attempt to hide the fact that he watched her every move and then joined her at the tree. He held out a hand and she took it. Not that she needed the help to sit down, but he was being a gentleman, and she wanted to touch him.

"Your hands are smooth as a baby's bottom. Odd for a man who does as much hard labor as you do," she said.

"I've noticed something about you, too," he countered.

"I have great tits?" she joked.

"That's without a doubt. No, I was talking about scars. You don't have a single one."

"That's not unusual."

"Everybody has scars."

"You don't."

Clark smiled coyly.

Chloe looked toward the back forty. She didn't seem to see the field as much as she saw something else -- the past and the many terrible things it held.

"I have plenty of scars, Clark. They're just where you can't see them."

His smile faded. Chloe had obviously had a tough life and he didn't want to make her think of the bad times, whatever they were, that she was trying to escape.

"I want to show you something tonight after dinner when it's cooled down."

"Oh yeah? What's that?"

"You'll see."

She smiled. "Okay."

"Kids! Come on in and wash up!" Martha called.

Clark got up but Chloe remained seated.

"You're not hungry?" he asked.

"I'm starving but I don't want to go into the air conditioning. I'll just get cool and sleepy, and I won't want to come back out."

"I'll bring your lunch out, then."

"Thanks. A couple of bottles of water wouldn't hurt, either."

"Better. I have some Gatorade."

Lunch was eaten in companionable silence. Martha had stayed inside but she looked out of the dining room window and smiled at them several times when she thought they weren't looking.

"I think Mom's getting ideas about us," Clark said, helping Chloe to her feet.

"I doubt that. She knows you're with Lana."

"She's never said it but I can tell she doesn't approve of my relationship with her," he said, and then walked away.

I don't either.

After that day's work Chloe took a cool shower. Dinner was a boring affair since she and Martha were too tired to talk. With all the rain they'd been getting lately the days were often stiflingly humid. The humidity and the heat, paired with a long day of hard physical labor, left Chloe and Martha drained.

After ice cream for desert she and Clark washed the dishes while Martha resumed her knitting on the back porch. At nightfall Clark came to get Chloe and took her toward a windmill not far from the house and they climbed up.

Once seated, he pointed to the distance. Under the clear night sky the lights of Metropolis glittered serenely. Chloe thought of Rita and Hazel in Gotham and wondered how they were doing. She hoped they were okay.

"I always think of the Daily Planet when I come up here," Clark said.

"I used to be able to see the globe clearly from the top of my building," Chloe said. "The sun would gleam against the polished brass and I'd fantasize about being a reporter there."

"Maybe you will be some day. Maybe we both will," he said.

"Sullivan and Kent?" Chloe said, and immediately cursed to herself for slipping and telling him her real last name. Then she shook it off.

What does it matter if he knows my last name?

Not knowing any personal details about her, Chloe realized, would do nothing to protect Clark and Martha from her uncle if he found her on the farm. She didn't think it was fair to let them risk their lives for someone who insisted on remaining a complete stranger to them.

"Sullivan and Kent. Has a nice ring to it," Clark said.

Chloe nodded and consciously reminded herself that he was speaking professionally, not personally.

"Yeah," she agreed.

"Our names would become legendary," he joked dramatically.

Chloe laughed. "Me, a legend? It'd be a change from being a nobody, that's for sure."

It was all a dream that could never come true and they both knew it. Well, it could come true for Clark but not for her.

She looked over at him. His smile was so open, so sweet, and he was so incredibly good-looking. She felt something blossom in her chest and wished like hell she could make it stop and go away. She didn't want to have feelings for a man who would never look at her the way she'd seen him look at Lana Lang.

"May I ask a personal question?" she asked.

"Shoot."

"Martha said you've had a life-long crush on Lana. Does the reality of the girl live up to the fantasy?"

Clark stared out at the distant lights of the city and gave the question thought. "Lana was out of line last night. I told her so when I took her home. You just have to look at it from her point of view. It had to be upsetting knowing there's a pretty girl staying in the house with her boyfriend."

"Lana doesn't think I'm pretty."

"I do."

"Thanks, but that doesn't answer my question."

Clark shrugged. "No, the reality is nothing like the fantasy. Does it make you happy to hear that?"

Chloe shook her head no. She was earnest when she said, "That doesn't make me happy to hear at all."

He regarded her silently and then said, "I want to ask a personal question."

"Okay."

"Did you leave someone special behind at…wherever it was you came from?"

"No. I was allowed to have sex but I was never allowed to know love."

Clark looked genuinely sympathetic. "I'm sorry."

"So am I."

"Nobody ever -- you know -- raped you did they?"

"No, nothing like that ever happened. I've always wanted to know what it was like to have a boyfriend, though. We weren't allowed to have contact with the same person more than twice. They didn't want us to form personal attachments. I've always wanted to know what it's like to know someone was falling in love with me. I want to know what it's like to get flowers. I like roses with the thorns because their thorns are a part of them. I'd like to make out during a movie, slow dance, go skinny dipping. I'd like to be kissed just…just to be kissed."

She bit her lip and felt tears sting at her eyes. Clark covered her left hand with his and squeezed softly.

"Someday you'll get to know all those things," he said.

She looked at him, feeling his hand cover hers, and saw something in his eyes. There was longing there -- or so she thought. He looked from her eyes to her lips. Maybe it was wishful thinking but it seemed Clark was leaning toward her for a kiss. She blinked and he took his hand from hers. The air felt unusually cool without his touch.

Clark cleared his throat and the moment turned awkward. "We should go in. We have a lot to do tomorrow. You need your rest."

You need your rest.

She wasn't ignorant that Clark hadn't bothered to lie about needing to rest after a hard day of work. She had a feeling he never got tired. Was he some superhuman with the ability to never tire out? Did he have an inexhaustible supply of energy? She imagined Sam Lane would have loved to study a meta like that.

She followed him back to the ground and they returned to the farm house. She noticed that Clark walked closer to her going back than he had when they first came out.

Sleep came easy for Chloe. She dozed off seconds after her head hit the pillow. She dreamed she and Clark were slow dancing by the lake. The stars glittered brightly, and he kissed her just because.

When she awoke the next morning there was a bouquet of long stem red roses, elaborately tied together with a twisted vine, lying on the table beside the couch.

They still had their thorns.

*****

"I need to leave Smallville," Chloe said, a few weeks later when she came into the living room where Clark and Martha were watching TV.


She'd decided that it was time to open up to them both, especially since she knew she'd have to leave them soon. Her uncle was undoubtedly close to discovering her location. Even if he wasn't, she knew he'd get to Smallville eventually. She didn't want it to look like he'd just missed her. She didn't want him to have reason to think that the Kents knew the truth about her and had helped her escape capture. If he thought that, the Kents were as good as dead. She needed him to believe she'd been gone for quite some time.

Neither Clark nor Martha looked happy at her announcement.


"Why?" asked Martha.


Chloe switched off the TV and took the chair across from the couch. "It's time I opened up with you about who I am. I'm on the run from my uncle. His name is Sam Lane and he's had me held captive at a place the inmates call the Facility since I was 14 years old. There's a lot to tell you that I don't want to get into right now. I will say this. I'm not crazy. I'm not evil. I haven't broken any laws."


Martha studied Chloe closely. It was such an intense gaze that Chloe had the feeling she was being scanned or felt out. It wasn't exactly an intrusive feeling but it was a little disconcerting. Martha blinked and leaned back. "I believe you're telling the truth."


"What kind of facility were you in?"


"It's a hospital for...special...people. People who are different. I'm different."


"Different how?"


"That's not important. The important thing is my uncle found out where my father and I lived in Metropolis. He came in and shot my father right in front of me and then took me off to the Facility. I was put through one experiment, one test after another, from the time I arrived until I escaped. Please, don't question me about the Facility or the experiments. The less you know the better."


"We can protect you. You don't have to leave," Clark said.

"I'm not going to really leave. I just need to make people think I have," Chloe said. "Lana knows I'm here. She's undoubtedly told her friends so there are more people who know about me living on the Kent farm. My uncle will get to Smallville eventually. He'll probably have Lucy and Lois passing around photos, asking people if they've seen me around and some of them will recognize me. Lana has no reason to lie about my presence here, and frankly I don't think she would even if she knew I was on the run, so she'll give me away and that'll send my uncle straight here."

"What do you suggest, then?" asked Martha.

"Ask Lana for a lunch date, Clark. Make it a point to bring me with you and then we'll go to the bus station. I'll buy a ticket out of state."

Clark and Martha nodded and shared a look. "Clark can follow the bus and pick you up on the first stop, bringing you back to Smallville in secret," Martha said. "Good plan."

"No, that won't work. I need to actually go to wherever I buy the bus ticket and get a motel room. I need to be seen wherever it is I'm going. Sam Lane is thorough. He'll interview the bus driver to make sure I get off at the destination. Then he'll search whatever town I go to. I need to be seen. I may even get into a scrape with the law or get caught stealing on store surveillance. They need to believe I've really left Smallville."

Chloe looked at Clark.

"I don't know what secret you have, Clark, I just know that you have one. There's more to you than meets the eye but I'm not going to pry into your business. I don't know what amazing thing you can do that makes you think you're invincible but you're going to have to be careful with my uncle. If he thinks you're lying he'll try to kill you. His experiments are funded by a private donor. None of this is government approved, at least I don't think, but cops don't often stop to check that he's really with the Army when he goes after people. They usually help him because they think he's working with some higher authority. The police in Smallville need to know he's here as a private citizen. I'll give you detailed descriptions of Sam, Lucy, and Lois. If you see them in town come home. If you see them coming to the farm try to get the cops out here."

Clark looked at Chloe with something akin to pride. She knew he wasn't just an ordinary man but she wasn't going to press him on it. He wore an unconscious half-smile that eased the intensity of his gaze which bore into her like he could see directly into her mind and heart. Even better -- he seemed to like whatever he saw there. He liked her, with her problems and her pain and her many hang-ups.

Chloe ignored the swell of affection she felt in return for Clark.

"But you said the cops will just try to help them," said Martha.

"Make up some story about a looter. Tell them you've been robbed. Make up some story to get them out here. Try to have them here when Sam, Lois, or Lucy get here. The cops need to see them. Tell Sam you know his name, that when I stayed here I said I was on the run from an uncle who sexually abused me and that his daughters knew and helped him get away with it. The police need to be suspicious of him and they need to believe he's not here on official government business. They need to have suspicions that he's trying to use his clout with the Army to cover up dirty family business. My biggest fear…"

Chloe swallowed over the lump of fear that suddenly constricted her throat.

"What?" Martha asked softly.

"My biggest fear is that none of this will be enough. That he'll just keep coming after you despite the suspicions of the cops. My biggest fear is that I've ruined your lives and you'll have to go on the run like I am."

"That won't happen," Clark said resolutely. "He's in over his head if he messes with us. I'll destroy him. I know you don't know any of my secrets, and I'm not ready to tell them to you yet, but trust me when I say I'm more than your Uncle Sam can handle."

Clark spoke with such intensity, such confidence, that Chloe found she couldn't doubt him. She was glad. It made it easier to accept she'd ruined their lives because of a few moments of selfish weakness.

I should have left Smallville the night Clark came to the tree house.  

It was too late for self-pity now. None of that would help the Kents. It wouldn't help her, either.

"Let's set the plan in motion, then. Clark, try to get Lana to agree to lunch with you today. There's no sense putting this off."

"Chloe, you are going to come back, aren't you?" Martha asked. It was the closest Chloe had ever heard her get to timidity.

Chloe hugged her before going to pack a bag. "I am. I promise."

*****

Clark and Chloe drove into town to look for Lana. She wasn't home; she wasn't answering her phone or replying to his texts. Her aunt, Nell, said she went into town to meet up with some of her girlfriends.

Why is she ignoring me?

"I'm sure she's just out having fun, Clark. She meant to include you but she forgot," Chloe said, as though she could read his mind and she wanted to ease his fears.

"Yeah, I'm sure that's all it is," he said.

He wondered, at times, what Lana's game was. He'd liked her since he first laid eyes on her. As he matured from a child to a young man, puberty had brought changes to his body and his mind. His innocent affection for Lana remained but his maturing body had added a layer of something else: lust.

Do I really love Lana? Or am I chasing a dream?

He sometimes wondered if she even really liked him. Sure, she liked being with him, but did she like him as a person? They never really went anywhere for the sake of being together. They'd hung out a few times, had one real date, but everything else had been clandestine trysts. They had a lot of sex but Clark felt like there was very little love, at least on her part.

He'd been grateful for what Lana was willing to give him until recently, when Chloe Sullivan had entered his life. She didn't want anything from him. Hell, he doubted she wanted his friendship at first. That had all come to change over the past couple of weeks.  

Clark could feel warmth radiating from Chloe's body. She smelled of shampoo and soap and some flowery perfume his mother must have picked up for her on one of her trips into town for Chloe.

He caught her looking at him sometimes. It was easy to see she appreciated his physical appearance but her attentions seemed to go deeper than that and he liked it.

The older he got the more attention he got from girls but it was never for the person he was. It was always about his looks. He didn't think he was anything special when he looked in the mirror but the girls apparently thought otherwise. Unfortunately the outside was all they saw. It was all they wanted to see.

Lana said he was a stud. Since they'd started dating he'd gotten a crazy amount of offers from all of Lana's girlfriends. They all said the same thing--they won't tell if he doesn't. He figured Lana knew she was surrounded by backstabbing sycophants but that didn't seem to bother her. Perhaps she thought that was what friends were supposed to be like.

Chloe was different. When she looked at him she looked at him. She saw Clark for who he was. No one in his life had ever figured there was more to him than met the eye. Chloe, however, figured out he wasn't the average guy in only  a couple of weeks after meeting him. She didn't understand him, that was clear, but she wanted to, and that made her different from any girl he'd ever met.

I wish Lana was like that.

She'd started popping up in his dreams, completely replacing Lana. No matter how much Clark got of Lana physically, in his dreams it was never about sex: It was about love. His dreams were always of them holding hands, dancing under the moonlight, and saying I love you a lot.

With Chloe he often just repeated the experiences they'd already had; talking on the windmill, washing dishes together, or sitting under the tree to eat lunch. Sometimes they held hands and walked around Crater Lake.

Well, the dreams started out like that but they always ended with him aggressively undressing her and fucking -- not making love to -- her at any given location. He'd always tried to make love to Lana. He'd tried to have something with her that was just affectionate since they didn't have that in their relationship. With Chloe there was plenty of friendly affection so in his dreams he indulged in hot lust with her.

After he'd gone out to find some wild roses for Chloe, because he wanted her to know what it was like to get flowers from a guy, Clark had returned only to have a dream unlike any other he'd ever had: he flew with Chloe in his arms. In the dream he stopped over the dome of the Daily Planet, the place they both wanted to have in their future, to hold her in his arms and kiss her softly.

Clark loved flying. He'd learned to do it the night his father died. He'd taken flight, trying to reach his dad in time to save him from a thief's bullet, but he'd been a fraction too late. The trip from China was a long one, even for him, but he'd gone anyway to try to save a village from a flood.

I put the lives of strangers over my own father…

He'd never forgive himself for that. Because of him his mother was a widow. She'd lost her soul mate because her son -- her adopted son no less -- had failed her.

He knew that's what she thought and felt. He could see the disappointment, the anger, the accusation, whenever he looked into her eyes. She'd never said it but he knew that deep down she blamed him for her husband's death.

Chloe, always at the back of his mind, came to the surface again. He'd flown with her in his dreams. He knew, from the look in her eyes, that she felt as free as he did when they were in the air. Her body was soft and warm in his arms, in every dream he had of her, and it was so vivid it was more like a memory than a dream.

Clark felt his heart swell. He also felt something begin to swell below his belt and he shifted on the seat.

"Nervous?" Chloe asked.

"Nah, not really," he lied. He was nervous all right. Nervous he'd get a full on erection with Chloe sitting right next to him. He had to get his mind off her and how he thought that she was better girlfriend material than Lana.

Clark put such thoughts away and turned onto the main street in downtown Smallville. The Talon was open, serving coffee and muffins and today was Lana's day off from the Talon so she probably wasn't in there. He parked the truck, fed the meter, and leaned on the side of the truck.

"I'll find her and we'll be back soon."

Chloe nodded. "Okay."

He started walking the streets, looking for any sign of her or her friends. He peered into shop windows but she wasn't in sight.

Concentrating, Clark pretended to look in the window of a shoe store and opened his ears, searching through the hundreds of nearby voices until he located hers.

He finally heard her, up the street. It sounded like it came from the small, empty apartment above the Talon.

"I told you, Whitney, I have to meet Shawna and Dakota for lunch."

"Come on, Lana. You can blow them off for me."

Whitney Fordman.

Clark's blood boiled as he heard kissing noises.

"Enough, Whitney. I have to go."

He heard a zipper. He heard Lana shuffling into clothes. The boiling in his blood suddenly cooled to ice.

She was screwing Whitney.

"You gonna spend the night again?"

Again?

"I've been here every night since you moved in. What's the matter? Are you afraid to sleep in your new place alone?"

"No. I just like waking up with you in my arms."

"Oh, my God!"

A woman stood next to Clark with a look of horror on her face.

"What's the matter?" he asked.

She pointed at the window. "Can't you see what's wrong, boy? Look!"

Clark looked. There was a massive hole in the glass directly in front of where he'd been standing and the shoes on the other side were on fire. He'd been so angry, so lost in thought, he hadn't noticed he'd burned a hole through the window. The edges of the hole were melted and blackened.

Inside the shop the proprietress, Mrs. Moody, rushed over with a fire extinguisher to put out the flames.

"What happened, young man?" Mrs. Moody asked in alarm. "My God, you're not hurt, are you?"

"No, I'm fine. I don't know what happened. I hadn't even noticed anything."

"You were standing right there, looking at the shoes, when suddenly the glass began melting," she said.

"I swear I don't know what happened," he said.

"I've heard there are sunspots that can set things on fire," the woman next to him said. He struggled to remember her name but couldn't.

"Oh, Henrietta, don't be silly. No sunspot did this."

Mrs. Moody was eyeing Clark with suspicion now. "Tell me the truth, Clark. Did you use something to vandalize--"

"No ma'am, I swear I didn't."

"I was here, Liz," Henrietta said. "He was just standing here, same as me. This just happened."

Mrs. Moody sighed. "I'm not even going to try to explain it. We live in Smallville, after all. Strange things happen here all the time."

Clark felt guilty for the destruction of Mrs. Moody's property but it had been an accident and there was no way he could tell her the truth.

Clark left the shoe store and went to stand outside the Talon. He resumed listening in on Lana. The conversation between her and Whitney was over. She'd dressed and now she was leaving the apartment. He'd been such a fool. She'd been using him all that time, playing with him, and he'd willfully pretended that she really liked him. He was a piece of meat to her, nothing more. It was Whitney she really liked.

She stayed with him at night. She lay with him, woke up with him, and shared herself with Whitney in ways Clark knew she never would with him.

He wanted to march up to her and tell her off, embarrass her in front of everyone. He was storming across the room to do just that when he remembered Chloe. He needed Lana to think Chloe was gone.

He needed to use Lana to his advantage.

"Clark!" Lana said, putting on a bright smile. It amazed him how she didn't look the least bit shaken at his appearance when she hadn't even gotten all the way down the steps from Whitney's apartment. She must think him too stupid to put two and two together.

Apparently, she'd been right on that account.

He couldn't return her smile. She was so fucking phony. He was so pissed off he wanted to smash her face in and he never allowed himself to indulge in fantasies like that against girls.

She finally noticed something was off. Her smile turned to a frown. "What's the matter?"

You're a two-faced, lying, cheating whore, that's what the matter.

"Nothing."

"You look upset."

For a second the silence between them became tense. She looked into his eyes,  and as he stood there wondering what the hell he ever saw in her, he realized Lana knew that he'd found out, somehow, about her and Whitney.

"Clark…"

"I came to ask if you wanted to have lunch," he said, mellowing his voice. It took every ounce of discipline he possessed to give her a wan smile.

She visibly relaxed. "I'd love to. Want to eat here?"

"Nah, I was thinking we could grab some pizza."

She nodded and looped an arm through his. He couldn't smell cologne on Lana. She probably insisted Whitney didn't wear any when she was with him. She did smell vaguely of another man's sweat. Clark felt a wave of disgust for her. He wanted to pull away, to walk away and never see her again, but he couldn't. He had to ride this out.

"What's wrong, Clark?"

"I've had a bad day," he said truthfully.

"How so?"

He made up some excuses about trouble with the tractor and having a fight with his mother.

"Want me to cheer you up?" Lana said, reaching around to squeeze his butt.

How many times has she gone straight from Whitney to me? How many other guys is she screwing while she's supposed to be dating me?

Clark felt dirty for having ever touched her.

"Lunch, first. I'm really hungry."

"What's she doing here?" Lana asked, spotting Chloe in the truck. Her voice was hard, supposedly with jealousy, but Clark doubted Lana was jealous of Chloe.

Or maybe you are. Maybe you sense something in Chloe, a goodness, a sense of decency, that you know you'll never have.

"Oh, yeah. I'm taking Chloe to the bus station. Her parents have worked things out and she's going home."

"Good," she said. Clark resisted the urge to stick out his foot and trip her.  

When they approached the truck Lana put on a bright smile full of malicious glee. "Clark tells me you're going home. Couldn't be too soon, huh?"

"Lana!"

This time Lana's attitude toward Chloe really pissed Clark off.

"I mean she has to be sick of working the farm," Lana lied. "I'm sure you'll be glad to get home. Unless you come from a farm."

"No, I'm a city girl," Chloe said.

Clark pulled onto the road and headed toward the bus station at the other end of town.

Chloe made a point to take in a breath. "Have you and Clark managed to fool around just since he left the truck?"

"What do you mean?" Lana asked.

"You smell like sex," Chloe said bluntly.

Lana's face reddened and she glared furiously at Chloe.

"I do not! Clark, don't listen to her. She's just jealous that she's homely and poor and doesn't have anybody for herself."

Chloe hid it well but Lana's words stung. She'd never really felt very pretty, even if people told her she was. She was poor, that was undeniable, and she most definitely didn't have anyone to call her own.

Chloe shrugged as though Lana's insult hadn't offended her in the least. "My bad. I guess you just need a bath."

"Stop the truck, Clark. I'm not putting up with this," Lana insisted.

"No," Clark said, his voice hard. The days of Lana Lang bossing him around were over.

"What?" she looked genuinely surprised that Clark was showing a backbone.

"You insult Chloe all the time. Don't dish it out if you can't take it, Lana. Besides, we're almost at the station."

"She insults me and you're just--"

"Shut up," Clark said.

Lana's lovely green eyes widened.

"Shut up and sit there. I'm not in the mood for your shit."

To his surprise Lana didn't argue. Instead she sat back against the seat. Clark saw the smirk on Chloe's face and felt a grim sense of satisfaction.

*****

Lana waited in the truck. Clark wouldn't have cried if she was gone when he came back but he saw her sitting there, arms crossed, a pout on her face and her long red hair looking wild with the big curls she'd put into it that Whitney must have mussed when she'd taken a roll in the sack with him.

Clark watched the driver stow Chloe's bag and then walked her toward the front of the bus.

"You okay?" Chloe asked.

"She's sleeping with her ex. She's been spending nights there."

"I'm sorry," Chloe said. She looked genuinely sorry, compassionate, and Clark liked her even more for it.

"Me too."

Chloe touched his arm and then turned to leave.

"Hey, be careful out there."

"I will. I'll call when I'm ready for you to pick me up."

"Chloe…are you really going to call?"

Chloe was struck by the pleading tone in his voice. She understood Martha and Clark's fear that she was bailing for their safety but Clark's anxiety that she would leave and never return surprised her. He really wanted her to come back and she wasn't sure about his motivation. Did he just want to move on from Lana because she'd hurt him? Would he use her as a rebound girl? Or did he genuinely care about her and he wanted her to return simply out of friendship? Did he want something more? Chloe tried to reason all this out but the driver cleared his throat. It was time to go.

"I am. I promise you."

Chloe boarded the bus and Clark walked back to the truck.

"What's gotten into you today?" Lana said, once he was behind the wheel. He pulled out and headed back to the center of town toward Mia's Pizza.

"What do you mean?"

"You've never spoken to me that way before. And what was with that goodbye? I thought you were going to kiss her."

"Am I supposed to be flattered that you're pretending to be jealous?"

"Yes, and I'm not pretending."

"Well I'm not flattered. She's a friend. You know, Lana, it's possible for a guy to be friends with a girl and nothing more."

Lana smirked. "I've never known that to be true."

Clark pulled into the parking lot of Mia's and put the truck in park. He regarded Lana. She was gorgeous. She was tall, leggy, and curvy. She had cute freckles smattered across her nose and under her bright green eyes. Her eyes…they were lovely but cool.

"You're very beautiful," Clark said.

"Oh no, mister, flattery will get you nowhere this time."

"You're also very selfish and spoiled. Nothing matters to you but your own happiness."

Lana looked duly offended. "What?"

"You're spoiled."

"I am not!"

Clark didn't say anything else. He just looked out of the truck at the restaurant.

"You apologize right now!"

"I was raised not to apologize for speaking the truth."

"I know where this is coming from. Shawna told you about Whitney, didn't she?"

"I haven't spoken to Shawna but I know about the two of you. Get out of my truck and go back to him. I'm done with you."

Lana looked outraged and incredulous. "You're through with me? You think you're dumping me?"

Clark looked at her, his eyes as cold as tone. "Get out."

"Gladly. I never want to see you again, Clark Kent!"

She grabbed her purse and jumped out of the truck, slamming the door hard enough to rattle the frame. She stalked off down the street, heading for the Talon. Clark wasn't sorry to see her go.

--------------------

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