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The Chronicles of Smallville: Cool
SIX
Cool
“See, this is what I love about high school parties,” said Chloe, in full sarcasm mode. “People will gather anywhere as long as there’s illegally purchased alcohol and even the slightest chance of hooking up.”
In tonight’s case, “anywhere” meant the shores of Crater Lake, out in Burnham Woods, one of the forests in and around Smallville. The water was completely frozen over – winter had hit hard and early this year. It was just as well – true to its name, the lake had been hit by several large meteors, and now the bottom was strewn with the green-studded fragments they had left behind.
Right now, though, Clark’s mind was far from the meteors or the damage they had caused. There was plenty of trouble as it was in his home town, thanks to the normal bad behavior of teenagers – illegally purchasing alcohol was among them. He gave Chloe a look. “Don’t act like I wanted to come out here,” he chided her. “If I recall correctly, you had the idea of coming to this thing.”
He had her there – his recall was near-perfect. “Well, yeah,” she fumbled for a moment, “but – that was before I knew how cold it was going to be. It’s like twenty thousand degrees below zero out here.”
He shrugged – that wasn’t a reason he had been against this. “I don’t know, it doesn’t feel that cold to me,” he said.
“What are you, from an ice planet?!” Chloe exclaimed; for all he knew, he was, but of course he couldn’t tell her that. “It’s freezing! I’m gonna go thaw out by the fire.” She promptly headed towards it, half-jokingly adding, “Have fun.”
He sighed and pushed his hands into the pockets of his near-black jacket, looking around without any real interest. Have fun? At this? Yeah, right. He’d much rather have been curled up in a chair reading a good book, or standing out in his loft marveling at the stars…or, best of all, having a quiet moment with Lana.
Alas, this party had no books, no telescopes, and no Lana. It had more than a few people walking around, chatting with each other, and hooking up – not necessarily in that order. He hardly saw the appeal – but then, he wasn’t exactly the average high school kid, though God knew he tried to blend in. He had no need to hook up with anyone, only two of his friends were here to chat with, and he only liked aimlessly wandering around when there wasn’t a lot of noise.
Why had he even let Chloe talk him into coming here? Why had he let Pete latch onto the idea, for that matter? What good did being such a pushover ever do?
His gaze tracked over a couple sitting in the back of a truck, a thick red blanket draped over them, and he barely hid a grimace. It was Whitney and his new trophy, the blonde girl he’d been talking to at the Halloween party. Clark hadn’t recognized her then – now he did. Her name was Alicia Baker, and though Pete seemed impressed by her looks, from her dark brown eyes to her athletic curves, Clark wasn’t moved. He’d already seen far, far better on his own – and without any clothes in the way of his view.
He looked away, smirking at the thought – just a couple of weeks ago, it would’ve been sufficient to set this whole place on fire. But thanks to Lana, he’d mastered his heat vision by now. He noticed Chloe sitting on a log by the fire, trying to warm herself, and wondered if he could discreetly give the fire some assistance.
Eh, probably not – the extra heat would likely arouse her suspicions. Shame. Had it been Lana, he wouldn’t have hesitated to warm her up – and not just because she knew about that surprisingly useful ability of his.
“Hey, Kent,” a would-be-friendly voice broke into his thoughts. He looked to see one of the jocks standing there – Sean Kelvin, one of Whitney’s cronies. As far as Clark knew, he hadn’t been one of the Scarecrow Team who’d ambushed him on September 1st – even so, he didn’t think well of the guy. Sean had played with the affections of multiple girls in Smallville High – just last week, and at the Halloween party no less, he’d dumped Jenna Barnum. No doubt he was seeking a new squeeze.
“You’re friends with Chloe,” the jock continued, unaware of Clark’s thoughts. “Is she flying solo tonight?”
Oh, no. Bad enough he was a skirt-chaser, but to go after Chloe? “I wouldn’t try it if I were you, Sean,” Clark said calmly but firmly. “You’re really not her type.” For one thing, she’s not that desperate for affection.
Sean glanced at Chloe, then smirked back at Clark. “Well, you’d be surprised,” he said mildly, patting the taller guy’s arm, and headed towards Chloe anyway.
I’m pretty sure you’re the one who’s going to be surprised, Clark thought grimly. He wandered casually over to the fire, keeping his ears peeled.
“If you want, I could rub them for you,” he heard Sean say to Chloe. He glanced discreetly at them and saw her looking up at the jock as he stood over her. “Well, nothing heats up a body like friction.”
Yuck! Clark had to fight to suppress his gag reflex. Was that really supposed to be charming? It sounded like a perversion of science class!
“Wow,” Chloe laughed, bemused, after a stunned moment. “I can’t believe you just delivered that line with a straight face.”
She gave as good as she got, that was for sure. “Well, all I did was offer to keep your hands warm, Chloe,” Sean tried to recover.
“And he knows my name,” she said airily, unimpressed. Clark smiled proudly – so far, so good.
“I’ve read your editorials in the Torch,” Sean said, moving to sit beside her. “Pretty cool.”
Funny – I thought all you ever read were Playboy magazines, Clark thought dryly. And don’t say it was for the articles.
“Well, thank you, Sean,” said Chloe, still not showing any signs of true flattery. “I sit next to Jenna in Bio class. Remember, you dumped her last week?”
Clark glanced towards the girl in question. She sat in a blue jacket and shirt on a truck bed, a pretty blonde with soft blue eyes and a dazzling smile. She looked fairly animated as she chatted with her friends, and he hoped that she was indeed over the jerk who’d dropped her.
“It was mutual,” that jerk said. Well, it almost certainly was by now, Clark thought.
“So you’re here trolling for fresh meat,” said Chloe, still not impressed.
“Don’t worry, Chloe,” Sean said, “I’m not gonna make a move on you…no matter how pretty I think you are.”
Chloe blinked at that, then dipped her head, smiling a little. That set off a mild alarm in Clark’s head – surely she wasn’t buying—
“Yo, Sean!” Whitney called, having apparently ditched Alicia for the moment; he was holding a football and standing with another jock. “Hail Marys down by the lake!”
Clark was all but certain that the king of the jocks avoided locking eyes with him as he ran towards the lake. Good. It was a lot better than the guy thinking he could just walk over anyone he pleased.
“Yeah,” Sean said, then trailed off. He looked to Chloe and asked, “Can I get your number?”
She laughed a little. “Why? You’re never going to call.”
“I’ll call you tomorrow,” he said gently. “I promise.”
She looked at him a moment longer, then reached into her pocket. “Well, I won’t hold my breath.”
Clark grimaced as he saw her take out a red pen and write the number on Sean’s palm. Despite her words, he didn’t like the sight of that at all – and he didn’t trust Sean even a fraction as far as he could throw the jock. Sean looked rather pleased with himself as he hopped up from the log and hurried after his buddies, past the sign to Crater Lake and into the trees.
Clark waited a moment more, making sure Chloe hadn’t noticed him eavesdropping – she seemed rather focused on briefly touching the pen to her lips, then putting it away. He walked over and sat down beside her, taking note of the odd smile on her face. Oh, boy. How to approach this?
He rubbed his hands together for a moment, inhaled silently, and decided to just come out with it. “Did you just write your phone number on Sean Kelvin’s hand?” he asked, even though he knew the correct answer.
Chloe didn’t look startled – if anything, she looked smug. “Don’t sound so shocked, Clark,” she said with a grin. “Guys do find me attractive even though I don’t have raven hair and the initials L.L.”
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it,” he cut her off sharply, not appreciating the dig at Lana in any way. She actually looked taken aback, and he toned himself down. “I’m just saying…I would call Sean a dog, but I actually like dogs. He’s a weasel – always playing with girls’ affections.”
She snorted. “And that makes him so much different from a certain mutual friend of ours how, exactly?” she said dryly. He looked at her in disbelief, and she laughed. “Relax, Clark. I just gave him my number to get rid of him.”
He wasn’t convinced of that, but he didn’t think arguing with her about it would do any good right now. He only hoped that his earlier thought had been right, that she really wasn’t that desperate for affection. “Go get our own player,” she said, tapping his arm with the pen and standing up. “The taxi’s leaving.”
Clark sighed a bit and rose as well, wondering what mischief Pete had gotten into in the short time they’d been here. His best buddy was definitely developing a way with the ladies, but he wasn’t a rake like Sean – at least not yet. Clark shuddered at the thought that Pete could ever become like that, then drew his jacket tighter over his blue shirt as he walked towards the trees, deciding to see if the errant guy had joined the other jocks.
A preliminary check with x-ray vision suggested he hadn’t – none of those passing Hail Marys were the right height. Clark was about to head closer and make sure when Whitney’s voice brought him up short: “So what’s with you and that Chloe Sullivan chick?”
“What do you mean?” Sean half-answered. From his position behind a thick tree, Clark could see the guy catch the ball as Whitney threw it back.
“The girl from the Torch – you into her?” Whitney clarified, almost laughing at the idea.
Sean backed up a bit to aim the ball, his tone casually callous: “Another notch, dawg.”
A spike of icy fury stabbed through Clark, his jaw and fists clenching. He knew it – Sean Kelvin was nothing but a slippery, heartless weasel. For a single crazy moment, he wanted very badly to march out onto the lake shore and pound the stuffing out of the bastard.
“Hey, hold on, pizza’s here,” Whitney noticed, having caught the ball. Clark glanced sharply around, saw several guys indeed carrying pizza boxes over, and darted further into the trees so he wouldn’t be spotted – of course, his super-speed allowed him to cheat a little. He heard the ball being thrown again and bouncing and sliding over the ice, and snorted – how careless.
“Go ahead,” Sean called to his fellow jackasses. “I’ll get the ball.” Clark watched via an x-ray until he was sure they had left, then walked slowly and steadily towards the lake, stopping just out of sight. His eyes tracked Sean as the weasel stepped cautiously over the ice, and he began considering how best to punish him when he got back.
Sean picked up the ball and turned to go back…but as he stepped, the ice let out a sudden warning cracking sound. He froze in place, and Clark’s eyes widened a little as the sound continued, thoughts of punishment leaving him for the moment.
Sean looked around nervously, not moving his feet…then the cracking died down. He took several careful steps—
CRACK! The ice shattered underneath him, and he plunged underwater before he could so much as cry out. Clark began to run forward, seeing that the spot had already iced over again. His x-ray vision flashed back on, and he dashed towards the flailing figure under the ice.
He all but slid over the thick white surface, skidded to a stop, and punched downward, smashing right through. His hand whipped around and quickly grabbed Sean’s, but as he pulled, he felt a sudden hint of sickening burning. Dammit! The meteor rocks on the lake bottom were close enough to affect him a bit. He struggled to hold on, seeing that the ice was quickly reforming.
With a surge of angry determination, he hauled upward – and Sean came out of the water, completely soaked and gasping for breath. Clark hauled him to his feet and led him over the ice, kicking the football the jock had dropped and sending it spinning onto the shore.
Sean was shivering violently, and Clark grimaced – he didn’t like the guy, but he wasn’t going to let him freeze to death. “I need some help here!” he called, his voice carrying easily over the ground—
—and several people came running, Whitney among them. The jock king’s bright blue eyes went wide with shock. “Sean?! What the hell—”
“He fell into the ice,” Clark explained hurriedly. “We need to get him wrapped up and by the fire.”
The others helped him do just that, with Whitney trailing behind and looking bewildered. They got Sean’s soaked letterman jacket off and wrapped him in a couple of thick blankets, and he sat by the fire, shivering despite its presence. Clark winced – he was still wet, and it didn’t look like he was warming up quickly enough. He backed away a bit, made sure that nobody else was watching him, then aimed his eyes directly at Sean, imagining that it was Lana sitting there and needing warmth.
The heat flowed out in a wide, invisible blanket, drifting through the wintry air and over the soaked jock. His shivering died down, his breathing becoming more normal. Then he sighed softly, looking much better already – some of the water steamed above him.
Clark kept it on until Sean truly looked dry, then turned it off, smiling softly. A hospital visit was probably still in order, but at least Sean was out of immediate danger. Then he sighed and looked around.
Chloe had come over, looking concerned. “What happened?” she asked.
“He went under the ice,” Clark admitted. “I think I got him out in time, but we should get him to the hospital.”
She nodded and pulled her cell phone out of her long fluffy-collared jacket, dialing for an ambulance. Whitney spotted her doing that and moved as if to snatch the phone away, but Clark stepped between them. “No, Whitney,” he said quietly but firmly. “He needs medical attention. It’s just to make sure.”
The blond jock stared at him, then backed down without a word. As he hurried off, Clark heard him giving orders to dispose of the beer post-haste. He sighed, feeling more than a little annoyed with the guy for thinking less of his own teammate’s health than the none-too-legal party going on.
“Pizza?” a gentle female voice asked, holding out a slice of plain cheese, and he looked to see Jenna standing there. “I think you’ve more than earned it.”
He chuckled slightly. “Thanks, Jenna.” He accepted it and ate eagerly, though not without giving it a quick and discreet once-over to make sure there was nothing wrong with it. It wasn’t a matter of not trusting the girl – he simply wasn’t sure he trusted whoever had ordered the pizza.
Jenna smiled at him. “Maybe it’s just me, but you’ve really become something of a local hero, Clark,” she remarked. “Saving all those people, standing up for those who can’t defend themselves, never taking any credit for it…” She shook her head in awe. “Makes me wish more guys were like you.”
He blushed even as he swallowed his latest bite. “Um, well…I’m really nothing special,” he hedged. “I just want to do the right thing.”
“But that is special,” she gently insisted. She glanced at the shivering Sean and frowned – though Clark wasn’t sure if it was in concern or remembrance or both. Then she looked back to him, brightening. “Not many people would save someone they didn’t even like.”
Clark shifted a bit, his blushing tightening its grip on his face. “Am I really that obvious?” he asked. He supposed he was – he’d never made a big deal of it, but he didn’t exactly hide the fact that he wasn’t fond of Whitney Fordman or any of his cronies.
“Afraid so,” Jenna said sympathetically. “Sorry.”
“Doesn’t take a reporter’s eye to see it, Clark,” Chloe agreed, holding her phone’s mouthpiece away but keeping the receiver to her ear. “The ambulance is on the way. No doubt the jockstraps will have ditched the beers before they show up.”
Jenna grimaced. “Just as well. I don’t think I could ever drink.” She glanced at Sean again, then sighed. “I should get home. Let me know how he’s doing, Chloe?”
“No problem,” the reporter assured her, and moved the mouthpiece back into place as Jenna walked away. “Yes, I’m still on the line.” A pause. “He looks mostly okay, but it’s hard to be sure.”
Clark frowned a bit, knowing that was true, and decided to give Sean an x-ray once-over. He didn’t see anything particularly alarming, though – hopefully those meteor rocks at the bottom of the lake hadn’t done anything to him. If they had, he would probably be able to tell.
Chloe rolled her eyes a bit and moved the mouthpiece away again. “I know that emergency staff are supposed to ask questions, but this is a little silly,” she muttered to him. “You’d think they’d know by now what to do about this.”
He shrugged – he wasn’t medically-inclined, so he wouldn’t know. “Well, I don’t wish almost drowning or freezing on anyone,” he replied softly, “even him. But it’s probably just as well.”
She gave him a sharp look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He winced, then cleared his throat. “I overheard him talking with Whitney while I was looking for Pete,” he said, keeping his voice low. “Whitney asked Sean if he was into you.”
She looked excited at the idea, though she tried to hide it, and he felt his gut twist a bit. “Chloe, his exact response was, ‘Another notch, dawg.’”
For a moment, she stared at him as if in shock…then she scowled. “I don’t believe this,” she muttered.
He glanced down sadly. “I know,” he whispered. “I’m sorry, Chloe.”
“You should be!” she snapped, and he looked up at her in surprise. “Putting words in people’s mouths like that?! What’s your problem, huh?!”
His eyes widened in disbelief. “I’m not lying!” he exclaimed, feeling rather indignant. “I wish I were, but I heard him plain as day!”
“Yeah, sure,” Chloe drawled, rolling her eyes again. “You just have a hard time accepting that any guy could find me attractive, even one who’s a little intellectually-challenged.”
“That has nothing to do with it!” Clark insisted, trying not to feel angry at her sudden extra stubbornness.
“Spare me,” she said coldly. “I don’t want to hear you make any more crap up – I can get that from tabloids.” She stalked off, holding the phone to her ear still.
He looked after her, bewildered and upset, then shook his head, sighing, and looked back to Sean. The jock looked too out of it to have heard them, and Clark noticed that he was shivering again. Grimacing, he sent another gentle heat wave to warm the guy – it was probably more than he deserved, but who was Clark to make that call?
Once Sean was toasty again, the farm boy rubbed at his eyes, trying to calm himself. Chloe could be damned proud and stubborn – she and his father had that in common – but this was a little extreme, even for her. Why would she doubt the word of her friend over Sean’s slick charms?
He sighed again, the breath fogging out into the cold air, and looked around idly. This party definitely hadn’t turned out well.
* * * * *
The next morning, something else wasn’t turning out well – namely, the Kents’ finances. Clark stood in the living room all dressed up in red plaid and blue jeans for school, watching and listening as his parents worked to balance the books in the kitchen. So far, not so good. “The distributor gets twelve five,” his mother said, typing on her calculator.
“Mm-hm,” his father murmured, leaning next to her. “The feed bill over six months at five percent.”
“Plus the mortgage at eight point two,” Martha continued as he moved away. “Plus the harvester repairs gives us…”
“Fifty four thousand, five hundred and one dollars and thirty-eight cents,” Clark provided. While he was known for having straight A’s, his aptitude for math was arguably the strongest – it always had been.
His parents looked surprised to see him. “Hey, uh, son,” Jonathan said, sounding a little guilty. “Look, I’m sorry, we didn’t mean for you to hear all that.”
“You don’t have to protect me,” said Clark gently as he came into the kitchen. “Is it that bad?”
“Yeah, it’s pretty bad,” Martha admitted. “We might have to take out a bank loan.”
“Another one?” he exclaimed. “The interest alone would put us up to—”
“Clark, don’t,” she interrupted him softly but firmly.
“Sorry,” he murmured, backing off and putting a strawberry pop tart into the toaster. Then a thought struck him. “Maybe I can help.”
“You already have,” Jonathan said proudly. “Last season, you saved us four part-time hands.”
Clark shook his head. “I’m thinking bigger picture. If trying out for the local baseball team works out, maybe I could forget about this whole high school thing and try out for a professional team. I could make a ton of money in endorsements.” He looked between them, took in their expressions, and gave up. “Just kidding.”
“As much as we’d love to see your face on a cereal box,” his mother said, her tone turning pointed, “we’d settle for you getting to school on time.”
“Right,” he murmured, grabbing his light tan jacket and his backpack and blurring away. A moment later, the toaster dinged and shot the pop tart up—
—and he reappeared, grabbing it deftly. “Forgot,” he said sheepishly. He stepped around the table and glanced at the calculations. “That’s sixty-five thousand, two hundred—”
“Go!” Martha exclaimed, aggravated.
“—and one,” he finished, smiling apologetically, then sped off again. Fortunately, he was on time for once, and shortly after, he was walking with Pete and Chloe towards the bus stop. “Any word from the hospital?” he asked.
“Negative,” Chloe reported crisply, not looking at him. He winced – she clearly hadn’t come to her senses yet.
Pete glanced between them, then shrugged. “I’m sure Sean will be fine,” he said comfortingly. “You got him out of there pretty quickly, man. That’s, what, the fifth time you’ve saved someone?”
Clark blushed – he tried not to keep count. It felt too much like preening. Chloe glanced at him, almost relaxing. “True,” she admitted softly.
“And you kept him warm until the medics got there,” Pete added. “I bet the hospital will let him out in no time.”
A hint of a smile touched Chloe’s lips. “Thanks, Pete,” she said, voice still soft. But then she shook herself a little and added more loudly, “Not that I was waiting by the phone or anything.”
Clark knew what she was trying to do, and he wasn’t buying it. “I know what I heard, Chloe,” he said firmly. “Sean’s not interested in you. He just wants to break another heart.”
She pointedly ignored him, and Pete sighed. “I dunno, Clark,” he said, trying to be reasonable. “I mean, I do trust you and all, but you could’ve misheard him – or just heard what you wanted to hear. He may be a jock, but he’s always been cool to me.”
Clark gave him a look. “I’d think it would be better to be warm than cool.”
“You know what he means,” Chloe chided him. “Look, just because you can’t get over your Lana fixation, don’t try to stop me from making a connection.”
He felt more than a little angry at that – not to mention annoyed that, once again, someone was severely underestimating his feelings for Lana. “That’s not what this is about,” he said firmly, locking eyes with her. “But while we’re on the subject, I don’t have a mere ‘fixation’ on Lana. If I were any other guy, maybe – but I’m me. And I’ve been crazy about her for as long as I can remember.”
She glared right back at him, haughty and challenging. “If you’re really so crazy about her, then why don’t you ask her out?” she demanded. “Go ahead and get that disappointment over with! Because believe me, she might be your friend now, but that’s the most she could ever be.”
“Hey!” Pete snapped, getting between them. “Back off, Chloe! This isn’t helping anything. And chill out, Clark,” he added. “I know how you feel about Lana. Chloe does have a point – you should suck it in and ask her out.”
Why? Clark thought. I already know how she feels about me. We’re already secretly seeing each other. We may not be letting it become public yet, but in a way, we are dating.
Then again, he realized as the bus pulled up, they hadn’t done anything truly date-like yet aside from the Halloween party. Maybe they could find a way to do something of that nature. He smiled at the thought as he walked onto the bus, immune to Chloe’s resentful look.
* * * * *
Chloe did not speak to him at all during school, and his irritation gave way more and more to sadness as the hours went by. It didn’t help that he wasn’t able to talk with Lana very much – she’d been busy the past week working on a project for a class they didn’t have together. As much as he admired her determination to stay ahead of the academic curve, not to mention her diligence and hard work in doing so, it meant that they could only afford short meetings.
Today, though, he was hoping that they could talk a bit longer – long enough to arrange some kind of date, anyway. He did manage to ask her about such a talk, and she suggested that he drop by the Beanery after school. Soon enough, he was walking down the street to do just that.
He reached the small restaurant and glanced in a window, seeing her sitting alone reading a book – Doctor Zhivago, to be exact. For a long moment, he just stood there, admiring her beauty. Her long dark brown hair flowed around her head, her body fitting perfectly into a light purple turtleneck and a pair of khaki jeans, her delicate hands holding the book firmly. He smiled softly, marveling at how such a simple sight could touch him so deeply.
“You know, she’s free tomorrow night,” quipped a familiar friendly voice. He turned to see Lex walking over to him from the entrance of the Beanery. “Hey, Clark. Admiring the view?”
“Every chance I get,” Clark agreed, glancing back at her. “It’s funny you should mention that – I was thinking of taking her on a proper date sometime soon.”
“I see. Well, from what she just told me,” Lex revealed, grinning, “she’s been thinking of doing exactly that with you.”
Clark blinked, then grinned back, delighted. “Really?”
“Really,” Lex nodded. “And if I may make a suggestion, there’s a Radiohead concert in Metropolis this Saturday night.” He pulled something out of his pocket – actually, two somethings. “You ask her right now, and I’ll give you the tickets.”
Clark’s eyes lit up. “Wow,” he breathed, almost laughing – things were already shaping up to be great! He recovered and asked, “Not that I don’t appreciate it, but…”
“Why am I doing this for you?” Lex finished, smiling softly. “Well, I figure someone should benefit from my experience. Besides…” His smile softened even further. “Truth be told, Clark, you’re like the younger brother I never had.”
For a moment, Clark was too touched to speak. Then he smiled back. “Thanks, Lex.”
“De nada,” Lex said, beaming. “Now go on in. You ask her now, and I’ll even throw in a round-trip limo ride.”
Clark didn’t need telling again – he took the tickets and walked into the Beanery, heading towards Lana. She looked up at him, giving him one of those smiles that lit up her whole face and made his heart just completely melt. “Hey,” she said softly.
“Hey,” he returned, smiling back in the same way, and her own heart melted. “Are you busy?”
“Completely swamped,” she said wryly. “That’s why I’m sitting in a coffee shop, attempting to wade through a Russian classic.”
He chuckled at the joke. “Let me rephrase that. Are you busy this weekend?”
“I shouldn’t be,” she said, smiling. “That project’s on track.”
“Good,” he said, taking the seat across from her, “because there’s something I was hoping we could do tomorrow night. There’s a concert in Metropolis – Radiohead, to be exact – and I have a couple of tickets.”
Her eyes widened as he handed said tickets to her. “Wow! Where’d you get these?”
“Lex gave them to me,” he admitted readily. “I guess he figured it’d be a good first date for us.”
She smiled wryly. “I was wondering why he was so curious about my schedule for the weekend.” Her nose crinkled in that adorable way of hers as her smile widened. “I’d love to go with you, Clark.”
His own smile blossomed into place, his white teeth gleaming. “Great.” He glanced around, then admitted softly, “But I’m not sure how public we can be about it.”
Her brow furrowed for a moment…then she sighed and nodded, seeing his point. “We need to let people think we’re easing into this,” she agreed.
“Especially Chloe,” he said softly. “She actually gave me a bit of a push to asking you out properly, but she didn’t seem to think it’d work out.” He grimaced a bit. “Not to mention that she doesn’t believe me about Sean.”
Lana nodded, her face sympathetic. He’d called her cell phone that very night and told her what had happened at Crater Lake. “She probably just doesn’t want to think that the first guy to show any interest in her was lying. Give her time – she’ll realize you’re looking out for her.”
“I hope so,” Clark murmured, looking sad. “I just…” He shook his head. “I know it’s selfish of me, but I kinda wish she could’ve realized that last night.”
Lana’s hand slipped onto his, and he felt a deep calm settle into him. “It isn’t selfish, Clark,” she said gently. “You’re just being a good friend. Chloe will see that soon enough.”
He nodded, smiling a little. He truly hoped that she was right…he didn’t want Chloe to be at his throat, let alone vice versa.
* * * * *
“Wait – you’re serious?”
At the moment, Chloe seemed too shocked to be at anyone’s throat. She, Clark and Pete were walking along the lawn outside Smallville High as students hung around for after-school activities, including sports practice. “So let me get this straight,” she said, gesturing with her hands. “You walked in to get a cappuccino, and walked out with a date with Lana Lang?”
Clark shrugged, hands in the pockets of his jacket. “Well, it’s not actually a date,” he said. It wasn’t entirely true – he and Lana had agreed to act around everyone else like they were only going as friends, but once they were away from prying eyes, all bets were off.
“Even with the ‘just as friends’ rider, I have to admit I’m impressed,” Chloe said. It looked like she’d misjudged Lana Lang again – maybe the girl really did return Clark’s interest in her, even if they weren’t being explicit about it yet. Maybe she actually had something to offer him.
Yeah, right, thought a dark, cynical part of her. Like she could actually be anything more than a pretty face with a plastered-on smile and a dumb outfit. Wake up and smell the bad coffee, Chlo. Once a pompom, always a pompom.
“How’d you score the tickets?” Pete asked Clark.
Chloe shook off the dark thoughts without drawing attention to herself, reaching to take Clark’s jacketed arm as she climbed onto a low stone wall. “I’m guessing a certain follically-challenged individual was behind it,” she quipped, walking over the wall.
“Lex did hook me up,” Clark conceded. “But really, Chloe, I have you to thank too.”
“Me?” she muttered. “What did I do?” She reached the end of the wall and hopped down.
“Well, you were right,” Clark elaborated. “I just had to get it out there.” He didn’t mention her last words, about ‘getting that disappointment over with’ – he wanted to let bygones be bygones.
“Well, good,” Chloe nodded as they came to a stop near the steps up to the double doors. “I’m glad.” She looked away as Pete asked Clark another question, her face not really showing that emotion. Only if this is Opposite Day and ‘glad’ means ‘mad’ or ‘sad’, her dark inner voice retorted. Face it – you want him, and he’s too loopy over Little Miss Perfect to notice or even care.
Why should that matter? she thought self-chidingly. I already have a guy who’s interested in me. I don’t need to keep pining over Clark.
Bullsh*t! her other half spat. So long as that hot piece of meat is stuck in the hospital, you don’t have anyone else to pine over!
Hey, that’s not Clark’s fault! she protested. He might not like Sean, but he did save the guy’s life!
Oh, yeah, sure, he just happened to save Mr. I-Like-Blondes from turning into a Popsicle after learning that you gave the guy your number, her pessimistic side scoffed. Get a clue, Sullivan! He just made it look like he saved Sean! There’s no way he’d save a guy who beat him to hooking up and then try to sell you some story about that same guy not wanting you at all!
She rubbed at her head, groaning in frustration, and Clark and Pete shared a puzzled and concerned look. No, she thought firmly to herself. That’s just insane. Clark would never pull that kind of crap.
Open your eyes, Chlo! It’s right there in front of you! He’s not looking out for you – nobody looks out for Number One but Number One! He can’t be happy with what he has, so he’s trying to make you miserable!
SHUT UP! she all but cried aloud, gritting her teeth. Unable to let her face whatever silent distress she was suffering alone, Clark risked touching her arm. “Chloe?” he said gently.
“Fine!” she snapped, jerking away. “I’m fine.” She took a deep breath, trying to calm her turbulent thoughts and feelings. Then she shook her head and began to move off – she had a paper to put to bed. “See you later,” she said crisply.
Clark looked at Pete, who shrugged in perplexity, then tried once more. “Chloe, what’s wr—?”
“No!” she exclaimed, rounding on him with flashing eyes. “I don’t want to hear it, Clark. Just drop it.” See? her cynical side sneered. If he’s not trying to hurt you, why does he keep trying to bring it up?
He felt stung and bewildered, but he didn’t try to push the question – at least, not with her. He let her walk into the school, then turned to Pete. “What’d I do now?”
“Uhhhhh…nothing, as far as I can tell,” Pete admitted. “I guess it’s just her.”
Clark sighed, exasperated. “Well, this could be better,” he muttered. “First she doesn’t believe me about Sean and gets upset, then she gives me the silent treatment after saying that Lana will never go out with me, and now she won’t even let me ask her if she’s okay.” He shook his head. “I really don’t understand her sometimes.”
“What man ever does understand a woman?” Pete said sagely, patting his arm. “If we understood them, we probably wouldn’t find them so fascinating.”
Clark snorted a bit, but his buddy had a point. “Touché. I just…I just wish she’d hear me out. Is that really too much to ask?”
“I wouldn’t think so, especially given her job,” Pete remarked. “But you are being pretty insistent about something you may or may not have he—”
“Pete,” Clark interrupted him warningly, though he never raised his voice, “don’t start. I know what I heard. Believe me, I wish that Sean hadn’t said that. But he did, and I heard him.”
Pete backed off, seeing from the look in those green eyes that his friend wasn’t joking or lying at all. “Alright,” he said softly, glancing toward the school. “But I don’t think she’s in a mood to listen.”
Clark couldn’t argue that point. “No,” he sighed wearily, “she’s not. Maybe I should give her a chance to cool down.”
“Probably,” Pete agreed, and patted his arm again. “I’ll catch you later, alright?”
“Sure thing,” Clark nodded, and they walked off in different directions. But even then, they were bound by a pressing question: Why was their friend acting like this?
* * * * *
Why was his body acting like this? What was wrong with him? Why was he so freaking cold?
Sean Kelvin’s teeth chattered together intermittently, his body shivering fitfully, his skin horribly blue. Despite the layers of material covering him, he felt no heat, no warmth at all. Even the electric blanket that the hospital staff had put over him was no longer working. In short, he was freezing.
He had no idea why. Not a damn clue. Neither did the doctors and nurses – they were stymied. His body seemed simply incapable of holding heat – but it clearly hadn’t always been that way.
He wanted the heat back. He didn’t care where he got it from – he just wanted it, now. He was sick of freezing.
But it didn’t look like he was going to get any better. Damn it, he’d give anything for a nice warm fire – hell, he’d take an explosion! He’d take anything at all – but no more freezing! No more teeth-chattering!
Alas, they chattered over and over again, the absolute cold keeping him awake and shivering all night long, just as it had last night. A nurse checked on him several times, and each and every time, there was clearly no change for the better – he was only becoming more and more miserable. She hated to admit it, but it didn’t look like the hospital could do anything more for him. There seemed to be no way of reversing his body’s inability to stay warm. All that anyone could do was provide him with another source of heat, and if they kept it up themselves, they’d run out soon enough.
The sun was just beginning to creep over the horizon, heralding the dawn of Saturday, when Sean’s door opened. He didn’t bother to look – he knew it was just that nurse again. Why couldn’t she have been a young and pretty nurse, at the very least? At least then he might have felt more comfortable with this.
“Good morning,” she said, though the words sounded awkward even to her. He didn’t respond. She cleared her throat. “We’re going to let you go home today. You’ll probably do better there than here.”
That did get a response from him – albeit a marginal one. He grunted a bit, his head rolling slightly, but still did not look at her. “Yeah, sure,” he murmured, unconvinced. His teeth were no longer chattering, but only because he held them apart.
She sighed inaudibly. She couldn’t blame him for being so down about this, but that didn’t mean he had to give up all hope. There wasn’t any reason for that.
Oh, well. In a few minutes, his parents would arrive to take him home, and though the hospital would certainly keep in contact, they wouldn’t have to deal directly with him anymore – unless, God forbid, his condition got so much worse that his life was in danger. So far, that didn’t seem to be the case – he was extremely uncomfortable from the lack of heat in his body, but he wasn’t freezing to death yet.
She walked toward him with a small thermometer in hand, having been told to take his temperature one last time before they let him go. “Here we go,” she said gently. “Just one last check.”
He grimaced a bit, but didn’t stop her from putting the thing in. What was the freaking point anymore? He’d never be warm again. He closed his eyes miserably, and he felt her hand touch his forehead—
—her warm hand. Her very warm hand.
He gasped, the thermometer falling out of his mouth as he sat up in the cot, and the nurse suddenly couldn’t pull her hand off his skin. Her eyes widened in shock – his skin was shifting color, the strong blue tint fading to a healthy human pink, and her hand was turning blue in its stead – it was getting cold—
With a sudden desperate motion, she wrenched away from him and all but crashed to the floor. Her breathing came in and out heavily, and she shook her head to clear it – then again, just to make sure. Then she looked at him – his color had returned, and he didn’t look cold at all anymore. She checked her hand—
—and saw nothing out of the ordinary. It seemed fine. But she could’ve sworn it was ice-cold a minute ago!
She shook her head again and looked at him. “How do you feel?” she asked, keeping her voice steady despite her confusion and recent shock of terror.
Sean rubbed his eyes a bit, glanced at his hands, then grinned at her. “Much better,” he said, climbing off the cot. “Thanks.”
The nurse nodded, feeling a bit queasy – that grin looked more like a leer. She glanced after him as he walked to a small closet where his clothes from Thursday night hung dry, then looked away, rubbing her hand uncertainly. Had she really seen all this right, or was she losing her mind? Maybe she hadn’t gotten enough sleep lately, she mused as she walked out of the room.
Sean, on the other hand, hadn’t felt this good since his plunge into the lake. He chuckled to himself as he got dressed – he should’ve figured that body heat would be the fix he needed. And he’d wasted so much time thinking that he’d never be warm again – hah!
His chuckle turned nasty as he pulled his shirt on. He had to wonder just how much body heat he needed – how long could he go between fixes? Well, he was sure to find out soon – his parents had spared some time from their business-stuffed schedule to come pick him up.
He tugged on his letterman’s jacket and turned to go, feeling quite certain that dear old Mom and Dad wouldn’t mind donating a little to the cause.
Cool
“See, this is what I love about high school parties,” said Chloe, in full sarcasm mode. “People will gather anywhere as long as there’s illegally purchased alcohol and even the slightest chance of hooking up.”
In tonight’s case, “anywhere” meant the shores of Crater Lake, out in Burnham Woods, one of the forests in and around Smallville. The water was completely frozen over – winter had hit hard and early this year. It was just as well – true to its name, the lake had been hit by several large meteors, and now the bottom was strewn with the green-studded fragments they had left behind.
Right now, though, Clark’s mind was far from the meteors or the damage they had caused. There was plenty of trouble as it was in his home town, thanks to the normal bad behavior of teenagers – illegally purchasing alcohol was among them. He gave Chloe a look. “Don’t act like I wanted to come out here,” he chided her. “If I recall correctly, you had the idea of coming to this thing.”
He had her there – his recall was near-perfect. “Well, yeah,” she fumbled for a moment, “but – that was before I knew how cold it was going to be. It’s like twenty thousand degrees below zero out here.”
He shrugged – that wasn’t a reason he had been against this. “I don’t know, it doesn’t feel that cold to me,” he said.
“What are you, from an ice planet?!” Chloe exclaimed; for all he knew, he was, but of course he couldn’t tell her that. “It’s freezing! I’m gonna go thaw out by the fire.” She promptly headed towards it, half-jokingly adding, “Have fun.”
He sighed and pushed his hands into the pockets of his near-black jacket, looking around without any real interest. Have fun? At this? Yeah, right. He’d much rather have been curled up in a chair reading a good book, or standing out in his loft marveling at the stars…or, best of all, having a quiet moment with Lana.
Alas, this party had no books, no telescopes, and no Lana. It had more than a few people walking around, chatting with each other, and hooking up – not necessarily in that order. He hardly saw the appeal – but then, he wasn’t exactly the average high school kid, though God knew he tried to blend in. He had no need to hook up with anyone, only two of his friends were here to chat with, and he only liked aimlessly wandering around when there wasn’t a lot of noise.
Why had he even let Chloe talk him into coming here? Why had he let Pete latch onto the idea, for that matter? What good did being such a pushover ever do?
His gaze tracked over a couple sitting in the back of a truck, a thick red blanket draped over them, and he barely hid a grimace. It was Whitney and his new trophy, the blonde girl he’d been talking to at the Halloween party. Clark hadn’t recognized her then – now he did. Her name was Alicia Baker, and though Pete seemed impressed by her looks, from her dark brown eyes to her athletic curves, Clark wasn’t moved. He’d already seen far, far better on his own – and without any clothes in the way of his view.
He looked away, smirking at the thought – just a couple of weeks ago, it would’ve been sufficient to set this whole place on fire. But thanks to Lana, he’d mastered his heat vision by now. He noticed Chloe sitting on a log by the fire, trying to warm herself, and wondered if he could discreetly give the fire some assistance.
Eh, probably not – the extra heat would likely arouse her suspicions. Shame. Had it been Lana, he wouldn’t have hesitated to warm her up – and not just because she knew about that surprisingly useful ability of his.
“Hey, Kent,” a would-be-friendly voice broke into his thoughts. He looked to see one of the jocks standing there – Sean Kelvin, one of Whitney’s cronies. As far as Clark knew, he hadn’t been one of the Scarecrow Team who’d ambushed him on September 1st – even so, he didn’t think well of the guy. Sean had played with the affections of multiple girls in Smallville High – just last week, and at the Halloween party no less, he’d dumped Jenna Barnum. No doubt he was seeking a new squeeze.
“You’re friends with Chloe,” the jock continued, unaware of Clark’s thoughts. “Is she flying solo tonight?”
Oh, no. Bad enough he was a skirt-chaser, but to go after Chloe? “I wouldn’t try it if I were you, Sean,” Clark said calmly but firmly. “You’re really not her type.” For one thing, she’s not that desperate for affection.
Sean glanced at Chloe, then smirked back at Clark. “Well, you’d be surprised,” he said mildly, patting the taller guy’s arm, and headed towards Chloe anyway.
I’m pretty sure you’re the one who’s going to be surprised, Clark thought grimly. He wandered casually over to the fire, keeping his ears peeled.
“If you want, I could rub them for you,” he heard Sean say to Chloe. He glanced discreetly at them and saw her looking up at the jock as he stood over her. “Well, nothing heats up a body like friction.”
Yuck! Clark had to fight to suppress his gag reflex. Was that really supposed to be charming? It sounded like a perversion of science class!
“Wow,” Chloe laughed, bemused, after a stunned moment. “I can’t believe you just delivered that line with a straight face.”
She gave as good as she got, that was for sure. “Well, all I did was offer to keep your hands warm, Chloe,” Sean tried to recover.
“And he knows my name,” she said airily, unimpressed. Clark smiled proudly – so far, so good.
“I’ve read your editorials in the Torch,” Sean said, moving to sit beside her. “Pretty cool.”
Funny – I thought all you ever read were Playboy magazines, Clark thought dryly. And don’t say it was for the articles.
“Well, thank you, Sean,” said Chloe, still not showing any signs of true flattery. “I sit next to Jenna in Bio class. Remember, you dumped her last week?”
Clark glanced towards the girl in question. She sat in a blue jacket and shirt on a truck bed, a pretty blonde with soft blue eyes and a dazzling smile. She looked fairly animated as she chatted with her friends, and he hoped that she was indeed over the jerk who’d dropped her.
“It was mutual,” that jerk said. Well, it almost certainly was by now, Clark thought.
“So you’re here trolling for fresh meat,” said Chloe, still not impressed.
“Don’t worry, Chloe,” Sean said, “I’m not gonna make a move on you…no matter how pretty I think you are.”
Chloe blinked at that, then dipped her head, smiling a little. That set off a mild alarm in Clark’s head – surely she wasn’t buying—
“Yo, Sean!” Whitney called, having apparently ditched Alicia for the moment; he was holding a football and standing with another jock. “Hail Marys down by the lake!”
Clark was all but certain that the king of the jocks avoided locking eyes with him as he ran towards the lake. Good. It was a lot better than the guy thinking he could just walk over anyone he pleased.
“Yeah,” Sean said, then trailed off. He looked to Chloe and asked, “Can I get your number?”
She laughed a little. “Why? You’re never going to call.”
“I’ll call you tomorrow,” he said gently. “I promise.”
She looked at him a moment longer, then reached into her pocket. “Well, I won’t hold my breath.”
Clark grimaced as he saw her take out a red pen and write the number on Sean’s palm. Despite her words, he didn’t like the sight of that at all – and he didn’t trust Sean even a fraction as far as he could throw the jock. Sean looked rather pleased with himself as he hopped up from the log and hurried after his buddies, past the sign to Crater Lake and into the trees.
Clark waited a moment more, making sure Chloe hadn’t noticed him eavesdropping – she seemed rather focused on briefly touching the pen to her lips, then putting it away. He walked over and sat down beside her, taking note of the odd smile on her face. Oh, boy. How to approach this?
He rubbed his hands together for a moment, inhaled silently, and decided to just come out with it. “Did you just write your phone number on Sean Kelvin’s hand?” he asked, even though he knew the correct answer.
Chloe didn’t look startled – if anything, she looked smug. “Don’t sound so shocked, Clark,” she said with a grin. “Guys do find me attractive even though I don’t have raven hair and the initials L.L.”
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it,” he cut her off sharply, not appreciating the dig at Lana in any way. She actually looked taken aback, and he toned himself down. “I’m just saying…I would call Sean a dog, but I actually like dogs. He’s a weasel – always playing with girls’ affections.”
She snorted. “And that makes him so much different from a certain mutual friend of ours how, exactly?” she said dryly. He looked at her in disbelief, and she laughed. “Relax, Clark. I just gave him my number to get rid of him.”
He wasn’t convinced of that, but he didn’t think arguing with her about it would do any good right now. He only hoped that his earlier thought had been right, that she really wasn’t that desperate for affection. “Go get our own player,” she said, tapping his arm with the pen and standing up. “The taxi’s leaving.”
Clark sighed a bit and rose as well, wondering what mischief Pete had gotten into in the short time they’d been here. His best buddy was definitely developing a way with the ladies, but he wasn’t a rake like Sean – at least not yet. Clark shuddered at the thought that Pete could ever become like that, then drew his jacket tighter over his blue shirt as he walked towards the trees, deciding to see if the errant guy had joined the other jocks.
A preliminary check with x-ray vision suggested he hadn’t – none of those passing Hail Marys were the right height. Clark was about to head closer and make sure when Whitney’s voice brought him up short: “So what’s with you and that Chloe Sullivan chick?”
“What do you mean?” Sean half-answered. From his position behind a thick tree, Clark could see the guy catch the ball as Whitney threw it back.
“The girl from the Torch – you into her?” Whitney clarified, almost laughing at the idea.
Sean backed up a bit to aim the ball, his tone casually callous: “Another notch, dawg.”
A spike of icy fury stabbed through Clark, his jaw and fists clenching. He knew it – Sean Kelvin was nothing but a slippery, heartless weasel. For a single crazy moment, he wanted very badly to march out onto the lake shore and pound the stuffing out of the bastard.
“Hey, hold on, pizza’s here,” Whitney noticed, having caught the ball. Clark glanced sharply around, saw several guys indeed carrying pizza boxes over, and darted further into the trees so he wouldn’t be spotted – of course, his super-speed allowed him to cheat a little. He heard the ball being thrown again and bouncing and sliding over the ice, and snorted – how careless.
“Go ahead,” Sean called to his fellow jackasses. “I’ll get the ball.” Clark watched via an x-ray until he was sure they had left, then walked slowly and steadily towards the lake, stopping just out of sight. His eyes tracked Sean as the weasel stepped cautiously over the ice, and he began considering how best to punish him when he got back.
Sean picked up the ball and turned to go back…but as he stepped, the ice let out a sudden warning cracking sound. He froze in place, and Clark’s eyes widened a little as the sound continued, thoughts of punishment leaving him for the moment.
Sean looked around nervously, not moving his feet…then the cracking died down. He took several careful steps—
CRACK! The ice shattered underneath him, and he plunged underwater before he could so much as cry out. Clark began to run forward, seeing that the spot had already iced over again. His x-ray vision flashed back on, and he dashed towards the flailing figure under the ice.
He all but slid over the thick white surface, skidded to a stop, and punched downward, smashing right through. His hand whipped around and quickly grabbed Sean’s, but as he pulled, he felt a sudden hint of sickening burning. Dammit! The meteor rocks on the lake bottom were close enough to affect him a bit. He struggled to hold on, seeing that the ice was quickly reforming.
With a surge of angry determination, he hauled upward – and Sean came out of the water, completely soaked and gasping for breath. Clark hauled him to his feet and led him over the ice, kicking the football the jock had dropped and sending it spinning onto the shore.
Sean was shivering violently, and Clark grimaced – he didn’t like the guy, but he wasn’t going to let him freeze to death. “I need some help here!” he called, his voice carrying easily over the ground—
—and several people came running, Whitney among them. The jock king’s bright blue eyes went wide with shock. “Sean?! What the hell—”
“He fell into the ice,” Clark explained hurriedly. “We need to get him wrapped up and by the fire.”
The others helped him do just that, with Whitney trailing behind and looking bewildered. They got Sean’s soaked letterman jacket off and wrapped him in a couple of thick blankets, and he sat by the fire, shivering despite its presence. Clark winced – he was still wet, and it didn’t look like he was warming up quickly enough. He backed away a bit, made sure that nobody else was watching him, then aimed his eyes directly at Sean, imagining that it was Lana sitting there and needing warmth.
The heat flowed out in a wide, invisible blanket, drifting through the wintry air and over the soaked jock. His shivering died down, his breathing becoming more normal. Then he sighed softly, looking much better already – some of the water steamed above him.
Clark kept it on until Sean truly looked dry, then turned it off, smiling softly. A hospital visit was probably still in order, but at least Sean was out of immediate danger. Then he sighed and looked around.
Chloe had come over, looking concerned. “What happened?” she asked.
“He went under the ice,” Clark admitted. “I think I got him out in time, but we should get him to the hospital.”
She nodded and pulled her cell phone out of her long fluffy-collared jacket, dialing for an ambulance. Whitney spotted her doing that and moved as if to snatch the phone away, but Clark stepped between them. “No, Whitney,” he said quietly but firmly. “He needs medical attention. It’s just to make sure.”
The blond jock stared at him, then backed down without a word. As he hurried off, Clark heard him giving orders to dispose of the beer post-haste. He sighed, feeling more than a little annoyed with the guy for thinking less of his own teammate’s health than the none-too-legal party going on.
“Pizza?” a gentle female voice asked, holding out a slice of plain cheese, and he looked to see Jenna standing there. “I think you’ve more than earned it.”
He chuckled slightly. “Thanks, Jenna.” He accepted it and ate eagerly, though not without giving it a quick and discreet once-over to make sure there was nothing wrong with it. It wasn’t a matter of not trusting the girl – he simply wasn’t sure he trusted whoever had ordered the pizza.
Jenna smiled at him. “Maybe it’s just me, but you’ve really become something of a local hero, Clark,” she remarked. “Saving all those people, standing up for those who can’t defend themselves, never taking any credit for it…” She shook her head in awe. “Makes me wish more guys were like you.”
He blushed even as he swallowed his latest bite. “Um, well…I’m really nothing special,” he hedged. “I just want to do the right thing.”
“But that is special,” she gently insisted. She glanced at the shivering Sean and frowned – though Clark wasn’t sure if it was in concern or remembrance or both. Then she looked back to him, brightening. “Not many people would save someone they didn’t even like.”
Clark shifted a bit, his blushing tightening its grip on his face. “Am I really that obvious?” he asked. He supposed he was – he’d never made a big deal of it, but he didn’t exactly hide the fact that he wasn’t fond of Whitney Fordman or any of his cronies.
“Afraid so,” Jenna said sympathetically. “Sorry.”
“Doesn’t take a reporter’s eye to see it, Clark,” Chloe agreed, holding her phone’s mouthpiece away but keeping the receiver to her ear. “The ambulance is on the way. No doubt the jockstraps will have ditched the beers before they show up.”
Jenna grimaced. “Just as well. I don’t think I could ever drink.” She glanced at Sean again, then sighed. “I should get home. Let me know how he’s doing, Chloe?”
“No problem,” the reporter assured her, and moved the mouthpiece back into place as Jenna walked away. “Yes, I’m still on the line.” A pause. “He looks mostly okay, but it’s hard to be sure.”
Clark frowned a bit, knowing that was true, and decided to give Sean an x-ray once-over. He didn’t see anything particularly alarming, though – hopefully those meteor rocks at the bottom of the lake hadn’t done anything to him. If they had, he would probably be able to tell.
Chloe rolled her eyes a bit and moved the mouthpiece away again. “I know that emergency staff are supposed to ask questions, but this is a little silly,” she muttered to him. “You’d think they’d know by now what to do about this.”
He shrugged – he wasn’t medically-inclined, so he wouldn’t know. “Well, I don’t wish almost drowning or freezing on anyone,” he replied softly, “even him. But it’s probably just as well.”
She gave him a sharp look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He winced, then cleared his throat. “I overheard him talking with Whitney while I was looking for Pete,” he said, keeping his voice low. “Whitney asked Sean if he was into you.”
She looked excited at the idea, though she tried to hide it, and he felt his gut twist a bit. “Chloe, his exact response was, ‘Another notch, dawg.’”
For a moment, she stared at him as if in shock…then she scowled. “I don’t believe this,” she muttered.
He glanced down sadly. “I know,” he whispered. “I’m sorry, Chloe.”
“You should be!” she snapped, and he looked up at her in surprise. “Putting words in people’s mouths like that?! What’s your problem, huh?!”
His eyes widened in disbelief. “I’m not lying!” he exclaimed, feeling rather indignant. “I wish I were, but I heard him plain as day!”
“Yeah, sure,” Chloe drawled, rolling her eyes again. “You just have a hard time accepting that any guy could find me attractive, even one who’s a little intellectually-challenged.”
“That has nothing to do with it!” Clark insisted, trying not to feel angry at her sudden extra stubbornness.
“Spare me,” she said coldly. “I don’t want to hear you make any more crap up – I can get that from tabloids.” She stalked off, holding the phone to her ear still.
He looked after her, bewildered and upset, then shook his head, sighing, and looked back to Sean. The jock looked too out of it to have heard them, and Clark noticed that he was shivering again. Grimacing, he sent another gentle heat wave to warm the guy – it was probably more than he deserved, but who was Clark to make that call?
Once Sean was toasty again, the farm boy rubbed at his eyes, trying to calm himself. Chloe could be damned proud and stubborn – she and his father had that in common – but this was a little extreme, even for her. Why would she doubt the word of her friend over Sean’s slick charms?
He sighed again, the breath fogging out into the cold air, and looked around idly. This party definitely hadn’t turned out well.
The next morning, something else wasn’t turning out well – namely, the Kents’ finances. Clark stood in the living room all dressed up in red plaid and blue jeans for school, watching and listening as his parents worked to balance the books in the kitchen. So far, not so good. “The distributor gets twelve five,” his mother said, typing on her calculator.
“Mm-hm,” his father murmured, leaning next to her. “The feed bill over six months at five percent.”
“Plus the mortgage at eight point two,” Martha continued as he moved away. “Plus the harvester repairs gives us…”
“Fifty four thousand, five hundred and one dollars and thirty-eight cents,” Clark provided. While he was known for having straight A’s, his aptitude for math was arguably the strongest – it always had been.
His parents looked surprised to see him. “Hey, uh, son,” Jonathan said, sounding a little guilty. “Look, I’m sorry, we didn’t mean for you to hear all that.”
“You don’t have to protect me,” said Clark gently as he came into the kitchen. “Is it that bad?”
“Yeah, it’s pretty bad,” Martha admitted. “We might have to take out a bank loan.”
“Another one?” he exclaimed. “The interest alone would put us up to—”
“Clark, don’t,” she interrupted him softly but firmly.
“Sorry,” he murmured, backing off and putting a strawberry pop tart into the toaster. Then a thought struck him. “Maybe I can help.”
“You already have,” Jonathan said proudly. “Last season, you saved us four part-time hands.”
Clark shook his head. “I’m thinking bigger picture. If trying out for the local baseball team works out, maybe I could forget about this whole high school thing and try out for a professional team. I could make a ton of money in endorsements.” He looked between them, took in their expressions, and gave up. “Just kidding.”
“As much as we’d love to see your face on a cereal box,” his mother said, her tone turning pointed, “we’d settle for you getting to school on time.”
“Right,” he murmured, grabbing his light tan jacket and his backpack and blurring away. A moment later, the toaster dinged and shot the pop tart up—
—and he reappeared, grabbing it deftly. “Forgot,” he said sheepishly. He stepped around the table and glanced at the calculations. “That’s sixty-five thousand, two hundred—”
“Go!” Martha exclaimed, aggravated.
“—and one,” he finished, smiling apologetically, then sped off again. Fortunately, he was on time for once, and shortly after, he was walking with Pete and Chloe towards the bus stop. “Any word from the hospital?” he asked.
“Negative,” Chloe reported crisply, not looking at him. He winced – she clearly hadn’t come to her senses yet.
Pete glanced between them, then shrugged. “I’m sure Sean will be fine,” he said comfortingly. “You got him out of there pretty quickly, man. That’s, what, the fifth time you’ve saved someone?”
Clark blushed – he tried not to keep count. It felt too much like preening. Chloe glanced at him, almost relaxing. “True,” she admitted softly.
“And you kept him warm until the medics got there,” Pete added. “I bet the hospital will let him out in no time.”
A hint of a smile touched Chloe’s lips. “Thanks, Pete,” she said, voice still soft. But then she shook herself a little and added more loudly, “Not that I was waiting by the phone or anything.”
Clark knew what she was trying to do, and he wasn’t buying it. “I know what I heard, Chloe,” he said firmly. “Sean’s not interested in you. He just wants to break another heart.”
She pointedly ignored him, and Pete sighed. “I dunno, Clark,” he said, trying to be reasonable. “I mean, I do trust you and all, but you could’ve misheard him – or just heard what you wanted to hear. He may be a jock, but he’s always been cool to me.”
Clark gave him a look. “I’d think it would be better to be warm than cool.”
“You know what he means,” Chloe chided him. “Look, just because you can’t get over your Lana fixation, don’t try to stop me from making a connection.”
He felt more than a little angry at that – not to mention annoyed that, once again, someone was severely underestimating his feelings for Lana. “That’s not what this is about,” he said firmly, locking eyes with her. “But while we’re on the subject, I don’t have a mere ‘fixation’ on Lana. If I were any other guy, maybe – but I’m me. And I’ve been crazy about her for as long as I can remember.”
She glared right back at him, haughty and challenging. “If you’re really so crazy about her, then why don’t you ask her out?” she demanded. “Go ahead and get that disappointment over with! Because believe me, she might be your friend now, but that’s the most she could ever be.”
“Hey!” Pete snapped, getting between them. “Back off, Chloe! This isn’t helping anything. And chill out, Clark,” he added. “I know how you feel about Lana. Chloe does have a point – you should suck it in and ask her out.”
Why? Clark thought. I already know how she feels about me. We’re already secretly seeing each other. We may not be letting it become public yet, but in a way, we are dating.
Then again, he realized as the bus pulled up, they hadn’t done anything truly date-like yet aside from the Halloween party. Maybe they could find a way to do something of that nature. He smiled at the thought as he walked onto the bus, immune to Chloe’s resentful look.
Chloe did not speak to him at all during school, and his irritation gave way more and more to sadness as the hours went by. It didn’t help that he wasn’t able to talk with Lana very much – she’d been busy the past week working on a project for a class they didn’t have together. As much as he admired her determination to stay ahead of the academic curve, not to mention her diligence and hard work in doing so, it meant that they could only afford short meetings.
Today, though, he was hoping that they could talk a bit longer – long enough to arrange some kind of date, anyway. He did manage to ask her about such a talk, and she suggested that he drop by the Beanery after school. Soon enough, he was walking down the street to do just that.
He reached the small restaurant and glanced in a window, seeing her sitting alone reading a book – Doctor Zhivago, to be exact. For a long moment, he just stood there, admiring her beauty. Her long dark brown hair flowed around her head, her body fitting perfectly into a light purple turtleneck and a pair of khaki jeans, her delicate hands holding the book firmly. He smiled softly, marveling at how such a simple sight could touch him so deeply.
“You know, she’s free tomorrow night,” quipped a familiar friendly voice. He turned to see Lex walking over to him from the entrance of the Beanery. “Hey, Clark. Admiring the view?”
“Every chance I get,” Clark agreed, glancing back at her. “It’s funny you should mention that – I was thinking of taking her on a proper date sometime soon.”
“I see. Well, from what she just told me,” Lex revealed, grinning, “she’s been thinking of doing exactly that with you.”
Clark blinked, then grinned back, delighted. “Really?”
“Really,” Lex nodded. “And if I may make a suggestion, there’s a Radiohead concert in Metropolis this Saturday night.” He pulled something out of his pocket – actually, two somethings. “You ask her right now, and I’ll give you the tickets.”
Clark’s eyes lit up. “Wow,” he breathed, almost laughing – things were already shaping up to be great! He recovered and asked, “Not that I don’t appreciate it, but…”
“Why am I doing this for you?” Lex finished, smiling softly. “Well, I figure someone should benefit from my experience. Besides…” His smile softened even further. “Truth be told, Clark, you’re like the younger brother I never had.”
For a moment, Clark was too touched to speak. Then he smiled back. “Thanks, Lex.”
“De nada,” Lex said, beaming. “Now go on in. You ask her now, and I’ll even throw in a round-trip limo ride.”
Clark didn’t need telling again – he took the tickets and walked into the Beanery, heading towards Lana. She looked up at him, giving him one of those smiles that lit up her whole face and made his heart just completely melt. “Hey,” she said softly.
“Hey,” he returned, smiling back in the same way, and her own heart melted. “Are you busy?”
“Completely swamped,” she said wryly. “That’s why I’m sitting in a coffee shop, attempting to wade through a Russian classic.”
He chuckled at the joke. “Let me rephrase that. Are you busy this weekend?”
“I shouldn’t be,” she said, smiling. “That project’s on track.”
“Good,” he said, taking the seat across from her, “because there’s something I was hoping we could do tomorrow night. There’s a concert in Metropolis – Radiohead, to be exact – and I have a couple of tickets.”
Her eyes widened as he handed said tickets to her. “Wow! Where’d you get these?”
“Lex gave them to me,” he admitted readily. “I guess he figured it’d be a good first date for us.”
She smiled wryly. “I was wondering why he was so curious about my schedule for the weekend.” Her nose crinkled in that adorable way of hers as her smile widened. “I’d love to go with you, Clark.”
His own smile blossomed into place, his white teeth gleaming. “Great.” He glanced around, then admitted softly, “But I’m not sure how public we can be about it.”
Her brow furrowed for a moment…then she sighed and nodded, seeing his point. “We need to let people think we’re easing into this,” she agreed.
“Especially Chloe,” he said softly. “She actually gave me a bit of a push to asking you out properly, but she didn’t seem to think it’d work out.” He grimaced a bit. “Not to mention that she doesn’t believe me about Sean.”
Lana nodded, her face sympathetic. He’d called her cell phone that very night and told her what had happened at Crater Lake. “She probably just doesn’t want to think that the first guy to show any interest in her was lying. Give her time – she’ll realize you’re looking out for her.”
“I hope so,” Clark murmured, looking sad. “I just…” He shook his head. “I know it’s selfish of me, but I kinda wish she could’ve realized that last night.”
Lana’s hand slipped onto his, and he felt a deep calm settle into him. “It isn’t selfish, Clark,” she said gently. “You’re just being a good friend. Chloe will see that soon enough.”
He nodded, smiling a little. He truly hoped that she was right…he didn’t want Chloe to be at his throat, let alone vice versa.
“Wait – you’re serious?”
At the moment, Chloe seemed too shocked to be at anyone’s throat. She, Clark and Pete were walking along the lawn outside Smallville High as students hung around for after-school activities, including sports practice. “So let me get this straight,” she said, gesturing with her hands. “You walked in to get a cappuccino, and walked out with a date with Lana Lang?”
Clark shrugged, hands in the pockets of his jacket. “Well, it’s not actually a date,” he said. It wasn’t entirely true – he and Lana had agreed to act around everyone else like they were only going as friends, but once they were away from prying eyes, all bets were off.
“Even with the ‘just as friends’ rider, I have to admit I’m impressed,” Chloe said. It looked like she’d misjudged Lana Lang again – maybe the girl really did return Clark’s interest in her, even if they weren’t being explicit about it yet. Maybe she actually had something to offer him.
Yeah, right, thought a dark, cynical part of her. Like she could actually be anything more than a pretty face with a plastered-on smile and a dumb outfit. Wake up and smell the bad coffee, Chlo. Once a pompom, always a pompom.
“How’d you score the tickets?” Pete asked Clark.
Chloe shook off the dark thoughts without drawing attention to herself, reaching to take Clark’s jacketed arm as she climbed onto a low stone wall. “I’m guessing a certain follically-challenged individual was behind it,” she quipped, walking over the wall.
“Lex did hook me up,” Clark conceded. “But really, Chloe, I have you to thank too.”
“Me?” she muttered. “What did I do?” She reached the end of the wall and hopped down.
“Well, you were right,” Clark elaborated. “I just had to get it out there.” He didn’t mention her last words, about ‘getting that disappointment over with’ – he wanted to let bygones be bygones.
“Well, good,” Chloe nodded as they came to a stop near the steps up to the double doors. “I’m glad.” She looked away as Pete asked Clark another question, her face not really showing that emotion. Only if this is Opposite Day and ‘glad’ means ‘mad’ or ‘sad’, her dark inner voice retorted. Face it – you want him, and he’s too loopy over Little Miss Perfect to notice or even care.
Why should that matter? she thought self-chidingly. I already have a guy who’s interested in me. I don’t need to keep pining over Clark.
Bullsh*t! her other half spat. So long as that hot piece of meat is stuck in the hospital, you don’t have anyone else to pine over!
Hey, that’s not Clark’s fault! she protested. He might not like Sean, but he did save the guy’s life!
Oh, yeah, sure, he just happened to save Mr. I-Like-Blondes from turning into a Popsicle after learning that you gave the guy your number, her pessimistic side scoffed. Get a clue, Sullivan! He just made it look like he saved Sean! There’s no way he’d save a guy who beat him to hooking up and then try to sell you some story about that same guy not wanting you at all!
She rubbed at her head, groaning in frustration, and Clark and Pete shared a puzzled and concerned look. No, she thought firmly to herself. That’s just insane. Clark would never pull that kind of crap.
Open your eyes, Chlo! It’s right there in front of you! He’s not looking out for you – nobody looks out for Number One but Number One! He can’t be happy with what he has, so he’s trying to make you miserable!
SHUT UP! she all but cried aloud, gritting her teeth. Unable to let her face whatever silent distress she was suffering alone, Clark risked touching her arm. “Chloe?” he said gently.
“Fine!” she snapped, jerking away. “I’m fine.” She took a deep breath, trying to calm her turbulent thoughts and feelings. Then she shook her head and began to move off – she had a paper to put to bed. “See you later,” she said crisply.
Clark looked at Pete, who shrugged in perplexity, then tried once more. “Chloe, what’s wr—?”
“No!” she exclaimed, rounding on him with flashing eyes. “I don’t want to hear it, Clark. Just drop it.” See? her cynical side sneered. If he’s not trying to hurt you, why does he keep trying to bring it up?
He felt stung and bewildered, but he didn’t try to push the question – at least, not with her. He let her walk into the school, then turned to Pete. “What’d I do now?”
“Uhhhhh…nothing, as far as I can tell,” Pete admitted. “I guess it’s just her.”
Clark sighed, exasperated. “Well, this could be better,” he muttered. “First she doesn’t believe me about Sean and gets upset, then she gives me the silent treatment after saying that Lana will never go out with me, and now she won’t even let me ask her if she’s okay.” He shook his head. “I really don’t understand her sometimes.”
“What man ever does understand a woman?” Pete said sagely, patting his arm. “If we understood them, we probably wouldn’t find them so fascinating.”
Clark snorted a bit, but his buddy had a point. “Touché. I just…I just wish she’d hear me out. Is that really too much to ask?”
“I wouldn’t think so, especially given her job,” Pete remarked. “But you are being pretty insistent about something you may or may not have he—”
“Pete,” Clark interrupted him warningly, though he never raised his voice, “don’t start. I know what I heard. Believe me, I wish that Sean hadn’t said that. But he did, and I heard him.”
Pete backed off, seeing from the look in those green eyes that his friend wasn’t joking or lying at all. “Alright,” he said softly, glancing toward the school. “But I don’t think she’s in a mood to listen.”
Clark couldn’t argue that point. “No,” he sighed wearily, “she’s not. Maybe I should give her a chance to cool down.”
“Probably,” Pete agreed, and patted his arm again. “I’ll catch you later, alright?”
“Sure thing,” Clark nodded, and they walked off in different directions. But even then, they were bound by a pressing question: Why was their friend acting like this?
Why was his body acting like this? What was wrong with him? Why was he so freaking cold?
Sean Kelvin’s teeth chattered together intermittently, his body shivering fitfully, his skin horribly blue. Despite the layers of material covering him, he felt no heat, no warmth at all. Even the electric blanket that the hospital staff had put over him was no longer working. In short, he was freezing.
He had no idea why. Not a damn clue. Neither did the doctors and nurses – they were stymied. His body seemed simply incapable of holding heat – but it clearly hadn’t always been that way.
He wanted the heat back. He didn’t care where he got it from – he just wanted it, now. He was sick of freezing.
But it didn’t look like he was going to get any better. Damn it, he’d give anything for a nice warm fire – hell, he’d take an explosion! He’d take anything at all – but no more freezing! No more teeth-chattering!
Alas, they chattered over and over again, the absolute cold keeping him awake and shivering all night long, just as it had last night. A nurse checked on him several times, and each and every time, there was clearly no change for the better – he was only becoming more and more miserable. She hated to admit it, but it didn’t look like the hospital could do anything more for him. There seemed to be no way of reversing his body’s inability to stay warm. All that anyone could do was provide him with another source of heat, and if they kept it up themselves, they’d run out soon enough.
The sun was just beginning to creep over the horizon, heralding the dawn of Saturday, when Sean’s door opened. He didn’t bother to look – he knew it was just that nurse again. Why couldn’t she have been a young and pretty nurse, at the very least? At least then he might have felt more comfortable with this.
“Good morning,” she said, though the words sounded awkward even to her. He didn’t respond. She cleared her throat. “We’re going to let you go home today. You’ll probably do better there than here.”
That did get a response from him – albeit a marginal one. He grunted a bit, his head rolling slightly, but still did not look at her. “Yeah, sure,” he murmured, unconvinced. His teeth were no longer chattering, but only because he held them apart.
She sighed inaudibly. She couldn’t blame him for being so down about this, but that didn’t mean he had to give up all hope. There wasn’t any reason for that.
Oh, well. In a few minutes, his parents would arrive to take him home, and though the hospital would certainly keep in contact, they wouldn’t have to deal directly with him anymore – unless, God forbid, his condition got so much worse that his life was in danger. So far, that didn’t seem to be the case – he was extremely uncomfortable from the lack of heat in his body, but he wasn’t freezing to death yet.
She walked toward him with a small thermometer in hand, having been told to take his temperature one last time before they let him go. “Here we go,” she said gently. “Just one last check.”
He grimaced a bit, but didn’t stop her from putting the thing in. What was the freaking point anymore? He’d never be warm again. He closed his eyes miserably, and he felt her hand touch his forehead—
—her warm hand. Her very warm hand.
He gasped, the thermometer falling out of his mouth as he sat up in the cot, and the nurse suddenly couldn’t pull her hand off his skin. Her eyes widened in shock – his skin was shifting color, the strong blue tint fading to a healthy human pink, and her hand was turning blue in its stead – it was getting cold—
With a sudden desperate motion, she wrenched away from him and all but crashed to the floor. Her breathing came in and out heavily, and she shook her head to clear it – then again, just to make sure. Then she looked at him – his color had returned, and he didn’t look cold at all anymore. She checked her hand—
—and saw nothing out of the ordinary. It seemed fine. But she could’ve sworn it was ice-cold a minute ago!
She shook her head again and looked at him. “How do you feel?” she asked, keeping her voice steady despite her confusion and recent shock of terror.
Sean rubbed his eyes a bit, glanced at his hands, then grinned at her. “Much better,” he said, climbing off the cot. “Thanks.”
The nurse nodded, feeling a bit queasy – that grin looked more like a leer. She glanced after him as he walked to a small closet where his clothes from Thursday night hung dry, then looked away, rubbing her hand uncertainly. Had she really seen all this right, or was she losing her mind? Maybe she hadn’t gotten enough sleep lately, she mused as she walked out of the room.
Sean, on the other hand, hadn’t felt this good since his plunge into the lake. He chuckled to himself as he got dressed – he should’ve figured that body heat would be the fix he needed. And he’d wasted so much time thinking that he’d never be warm again – hah!
His chuckle turned nasty as he pulled his shirt on. He had to wonder just how much body heat he needed – how long could he go between fixes? Well, he was sure to find out soon – his parents had spared some time from their business-stuffed schedule to come pick him up.
He tugged on his letterman’s jacket and turned to go, feeling quite certain that dear old Mom and Dad wouldn’t mind donating a little to the cause.
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