Summer StoryThree, part two
10/16/04 06:23 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
roxyDon't ask why this is late,oy! Just everyone thank god I'm no where near the button that unleashes nuclear hell.
This runs a bit long,by the way.Read, hopefully enjoy, tell me what you tthink. *eyes all big and wondering*
Lana stood in the hallway in shock and let the crowd part around her, staring at the piece of paper in her hands. There was no other way to describe it. Clark’s note made it clear: he liked her, and liked her a lot. What was she supposed to do about that? Out of all the guys, Clark was the one she saw as a brother—the only one she couldn’t really think of in any other way. Or could she?
Pete was coming toward her, big smile on his square sweet face. She smiled warmly at him. She did like Pete, he was so sweet, but Whitney was the one she was most moved by. There was something about him, something that called out to her.
Before she could stop him, Pete had playfully grabbed the note from her hand.
“Hey, Lana, what’s up,” he said, eyes drifting over the paper before getting ready to hand it back. , And suddenly his eyes jerked back to it. Clarks handwriting … He looked at Lana, his brown eyes full of hurt.
She opened her mouth once, twice, but the words stuck in her throat.
She knew she didn’t like Clark like that, but would it hurt anyone if she let Pete think otherwise? It would give her an out. She wouldn’t have to turn Pete down anymore while she waited for Whit to notice she wasn’t a guy and that she liked him a lot, that she’d be good for him. “Pete, I--”
“Hey, don’t worry Lana, I know that you don’t think of me like that. I’ve known you for a million years and I know the deal. I keep hoping-” Lana put her hand on Pete’s arm and he smiled down at her elegant little fingers clutching at him. “But it’s ok,” he continued. “The only thing is, how are you going to let Clark know it’s Whitney you want?”
Lana was shocked. “You know?” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and stared at the ground, blushing slightly. “Who else, no—don’t tell me, everyone knows, right?” She looked up at Pete with a strained smile.
He replied with a sigh, “Well, everyone but Clark, I guess. Red’s been trying to tell him, but you know him, he only hears what he wants to hear sometime. I’ve never seen anyone as stubborn as Clark—yeesh.”
Lana chuckled. She had to agree. Clark’s show of stubbornness wasn’t frequent, but the occasions that streak manifested were … legendary to say the least. She and Pete grinned at each other and the tension ebbed—they were friends first, no matter what.
“Look, I’ll tell Whit to take you to the dance this Friday, ok? I’m going, Clark and Lex are going—I set them up with some friends of mine…shut up,” he said to Lana’s raised eyebrow. He crooked his arm towards her and she took it. They walked off to lunch, Lana holding onto Pete’s extended arm. “Don’t ever forget, the Mousekeeteers look out for each other.”
She grinned. “That’s Musketeer, Pete.”
“Did I say shut up before? I’m kinda sure I did— ow. You’re elbows are sharp, do you know that?”
*********
Friday night was an exercise in frustration and sadness for Clark. He was moping around, moaning and groaning over Lana, driving his folks crazy, his friends, hell—he was driving himself crazy. She was perfect, a shining example of what women should be—and he did not have her on a pedestal like Red kept saying. She was too a real girl, damn it, and very approachable, or she would be if she wasn’t all tied up in Whitney, that is. Now here he was at the school dance from hell, on one side a real pissed off friend of Pete’s glaring at him—he felt bad ignoring her but she was just too boring—and a real pissed off Lana on the other side, cause Whit was being a jerk, hanging with the jocks and acting obnoxious.
Clark got up and sat next to Lana. “I’m sorry Whit’s being kind of an a-hole, Lana.”
She looked down her nose at him. “Clark. There is no way that you should apologize for Whitney at all. Whitney is being an idiot all on his own.”
He looked back at her, and searched for something to say, and wished he were as smart about this stuff as Pete. Pete had a way of getting to the heart of a matter, not full of psychological stuff like Le—Red, just—truth. What was right. What was real.
Clark looked over to where Whit was laughing with some guys and Lex was standing next to him—stone-faced and definitely not happy, which meant that Whit was planning to do something stupid. Clark looked over at Lana, she looked really sad, and when she turned her eyes to Clark, he could see tears in her eyes.
That was it! He was going to have to talk to Whit—he looked around—damn. Well, as soon as he could find him then.
“Lana—I—I’ll be right back,” He said, smiling a little weakly at Lana.
She grimaced and stood. “Clark, don’t worry about it. I’m going to go,” she said.
Clark touched her shoulder. “Lana, you deserve to be treated better. You need someone who gets that. Someone who puts you first.” He looked down on the top of her head and got the strangest feeling …
He wasn’t that person. He felt really bad for her, and angry with Whit for being an insensitive jerk, but he wasn’t angry that Whit was with Lana and that surprised and even confused him a little. He had no desire to jump in for himself and what the hell was wrong with him?
All summer he’d dreamt of her, practically stalked her, and now was the perfect moment, his chance to get in good with her, and he hesitated. Maybe what Red kept saying was right, maybe it did have more to with worshipping an ideal, and less wanting the real girl-- Suddenly she was just Lana, his good friend, not the unattainable object of his desire.
What happened to change his feeling about her? He sighed to himself. God, how could people confuse themselves so?
At least Red seemed to understand him.
Clark walked off in search of Whitney, leaving Lana sitting in a miserable little heap all alone. He ran into Pete, who was having an animated conversation with one of the guys from the team, and they both yelled out to Clark. Clark looked at Pete, back at Lana, and looked back at Pete and there it was; it hit him like a bolt of lightning. He grabbed Pete’s arm. “Lana’s all alone, Whit ditched her.”
Pete was instantly furious on Lana’s behalf. “That asshole! Wait until I get hold of him—I ought to call Sam and--” He blew out a puff of air, and forced calm on himself. “Look Clark, go sit with her, why don’t you? She needs a friend--”
“Yeah, “ Clark cut in, “She does. Someone who cares about her more than anything else in the world. Pete. It’s time for you to make her understand, y’know?”
Pete looked up into Clark’s eyes, searching for some reason for his words, trying to get Clark’s meaning, looking hopeful and yet still concerned about Clark’s feelings too.
“Pete. You’ve liked Lana since forever, you’ll come up with the words to tell her… I think you guys belong together… She just doesn’t know it yet.”
Pete blushed, his cheeks flushing red, and Clark grinned. Pete whirled around to face the gym doors, and Lana was looking at them and she smiled when she caught Pete staring at her, she ducked her head down a fraction, but she just kept … smiling.
Clark felt pretty good, and a little sad, too, but it was a good kind of sad. It was the right thing to do. Pete needed Lana and even if she didn’t know it, she really needed Pete. She was pretty, sweet and very kind, a perfect girl—just not his perfect girl. All he could think of when she sat and cried over Whitney was how Pete would have handled it, and what he’d say to make her feel better and you didn’t have to be a genius to figure out Pete was way better for her than he was … he didn’t think he could ever feel the same way, to want to give everything of yourself to one person. He mulled the thought over in his mind a bit and then headed down the hall. Red had looked pretty upset with Whit, he better find him and then they could figure out what to do with Whit. He froze—shit. Red was leaving. He was leaving again.
Clark had been pushing the thought into the back of his mind, but it kept creeping out and kicking him in the gut. It was even harder somehow now that they were older, they had to act like it was something they could deal with easily, but crap! He really didn’t want Red to go. Who was going to help him keep Whit from killing himself, him and his stupid stunts.
He looked up and down the halls, but still couldn’t find Whit or Lex, and no one had seen either of them for a while. Some kids thought they might have gone out to the woods with some juniors, there was supposed to be a party out there. Rumor was that someone got a keg.
Great, Clark thought. That meant that Whit was going to be staying in the barn again tonight. He sighed and went into the restroom. He walked over to the sinks and checked himself out in the mirror. Sometimes he felt as though ‘sucker’ was written on his forehead. Here he was alone at the dance, hooking up one of his best friends with another one, a girl that he’d liked. He stood and stared at himself, trying to see what it was that people saw when they looked at him. What was in his face that made people treat him like an idiot.
And then he began to be aware of a myriad of sounds. His body heard it before his brain made any kind of connection, a little gasp, a groan. A bump against the stall wall. Geez. Eew, someone was getting busy in the stall.
There was another groan and gasp, and a smack, like someone hit the wall of the stall and a curse: “Fuck, my elbow.” And oh my god—that was Whit! He’s got a girl in the boy’s bathroom—god. He’s trying to get expelled, the idiot.
Clark was turning to knock on the stall and let Whit have it when he heard another voice: “Shut up, you big girl—shit, stand still, you’re pushing me across the floor.”
Clark froze.
Whit’s voice curled into his ear like a snake: “ Shhh. Quiet! Oh—fuck! That’s good!” It was low and rough, and sent shivers down Clarks back. A vision of what was going on in the stall flashed through him like flames, and his face and ears were on fire.
The other voice cursed, and then the sounds got breathier, kind of wet, and Clark tried to leave fast, and silently, but sweat was running down his face, and rolling down his back, he felt like he had a fever and his eyes were hot and scratchy. He rubbed them, and bit his lip hard when a low moan echoed against the tiles. The sudden pain in his lip helped break the spell, and his feet could move again.
Just as his hand touched the restroom door handle, he heard Whitney groan like he was dying, and it made him groan inside.
“Wade! Oh, fuck, fuck…”
Clark escaped and sped out to the lawn of the school heedless of someone seeing him. He leaned up against a post and gasped, trying to regulate his breath. He felt too hot,his eyes burned and itched, and he rubbed them until tears wet his hand and he needed to get home. He needed to talk to Red. But when he thought of Red, he just felt even more miserable and upset, and he pushed all thought out of his mind. Forget the dance, forget Pete’s friend, forget everybody. He was going to go home, have cookies, watch TV and go to bed and *not* think a whole lot. He was going to make it his goal, this not thinking.
TBC, very soon.
This runs a bit long,by the way.Read, hopefully enjoy, tell me what you tthink. *eyes all big and wondering*
Lana stood in the hallway in shock and let the crowd part around her, staring at the piece of paper in her hands. There was no other way to describe it. Clark’s note made it clear: he liked her, and liked her a lot. What was she supposed to do about that? Out of all the guys, Clark was the one she saw as a brother—the only one she couldn’t really think of in any other way. Or could she?
Pete was coming toward her, big smile on his square sweet face. She smiled warmly at him. She did like Pete, he was so sweet, but Whitney was the one she was most moved by. There was something about him, something that called out to her.
Before she could stop him, Pete had playfully grabbed the note from her hand.
“Hey, Lana, what’s up,” he said, eyes drifting over the paper before getting ready to hand it back. , And suddenly his eyes jerked back to it. Clarks handwriting … He looked at Lana, his brown eyes full of hurt.
She opened her mouth once, twice, but the words stuck in her throat.
She knew she didn’t like Clark like that, but would it hurt anyone if she let Pete think otherwise? It would give her an out. She wouldn’t have to turn Pete down anymore while she waited for Whit to notice she wasn’t a guy and that she liked him a lot, that she’d be good for him. “Pete, I--”
“Hey, don’t worry Lana, I know that you don’t think of me like that. I’ve known you for a million years and I know the deal. I keep hoping-” Lana put her hand on Pete’s arm and he smiled down at her elegant little fingers clutching at him. “But it’s ok,” he continued. “The only thing is, how are you going to let Clark know it’s Whitney you want?”
Lana was shocked. “You know?” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and stared at the ground, blushing slightly. “Who else, no—don’t tell me, everyone knows, right?” She looked up at Pete with a strained smile.
He replied with a sigh, “Well, everyone but Clark, I guess. Red’s been trying to tell him, but you know him, he only hears what he wants to hear sometime. I’ve never seen anyone as stubborn as Clark—yeesh.”
Lana chuckled. She had to agree. Clark’s show of stubbornness wasn’t frequent, but the occasions that streak manifested were … legendary to say the least. She and Pete grinned at each other and the tension ebbed—they were friends first, no matter what.
“Look, I’ll tell Whit to take you to the dance this Friday, ok? I’m going, Clark and Lex are going—I set them up with some friends of mine…shut up,” he said to Lana’s raised eyebrow. He crooked his arm towards her and she took it. They walked off to lunch, Lana holding onto Pete’s extended arm. “Don’t ever forget, the Mousekeeteers look out for each other.”
She grinned. “That’s Musketeer, Pete.”
“Did I say shut up before? I’m kinda sure I did— ow. You’re elbows are sharp, do you know that?”
*********
Friday night was an exercise in frustration and sadness for Clark. He was moping around, moaning and groaning over Lana, driving his folks crazy, his friends, hell—he was driving himself crazy. She was perfect, a shining example of what women should be—and he did not have her on a pedestal like Red kept saying. She was too a real girl, damn it, and very approachable, or she would be if she wasn’t all tied up in Whitney, that is. Now here he was at the school dance from hell, on one side a real pissed off friend of Pete’s glaring at him—he felt bad ignoring her but she was just too boring—and a real pissed off Lana on the other side, cause Whit was being a jerk, hanging with the jocks and acting obnoxious.
Clark got up and sat next to Lana. “I’m sorry Whit’s being kind of an a-hole, Lana.”
She looked down her nose at him. “Clark. There is no way that you should apologize for Whitney at all. Whitney is being an idiot all on his own.”
He looked back at her, and searched for something to say, and wished he were as smart about this stuff as Pete. Pete had a way of getting to the heart of a matter, not full of psychological stuff like Le—Red, just—truth. What was right. What was real.
Clark looked over to where Whit was laughing with some guys and Lex was standing next to him—stone-faced and definitely not happy, which meant that Whit was planning to do something stupid. Clark looked over at Lana, she looked really sad, and when she turned her eyes to Clark, he could see tears in her eyes.
That was it! He was going to have to talk to Whit—he looked around—damn. Well, as soon as he could find him then.
“Lana—I—I’ll be right back,” He said, smiling a little weakly at Lana.
She grimaced and stood. “Clark, don’t worry about it. I’m going to go,” she said.
Clark touched her shoulder. “Lana, you deserve to be treated better. You need someone who gets that. Someone who puts you first.” He looked down on the top of her head and got the strangest feeling …
He wasn’t that person. He felt really bad for her, and angry with Whit for being an insensitive jerk, but he wasn’t angry that Whit was with Lana and that surprised and even confused him a little. He had no desire to jump in for himself and what the hell was wrong with him?
All summer he’d dreamt of her, practically stalked her, and now was the perfect moment, his chance to get in good with her, and he hesitated. Maybe what Red kept saying was right, maybe it did have more to with worshipping an ideal, and less wanting the real girl-- Suddenly she was just Lana, his good friend, not the unattainable object of his desire.
What happened to change his feeling about her? He sighed to himself. God, how could people confuse themselves so?
At least Red seemed to understand him.
Clark walked off in search of Whitney, leaving Lana sitting in a miserable little heap all alone. He ran into Pete, who was having an animated conversation with one of the guys from the team, and they both yelled out to Clark. Clark looked at Pete, back at Lana, and looked back at Pete and there it was; it hit him like a bolt of lightning. He grabbed Pete’s arm. “Lana’s all alone, Whit ditched her.”
Pete was instantly furious on Lana’s behalf. “That asshole! Wait until I get hold of him—I ought to call Sam and--” He blew out a puff of air, and forced calm on himself. “Look Clark, go sit with her, why don’t you? She needs a friend--”
“Yeah, “ Clark cut in, “She does. Someone who cares about her more than anything else in the world. Pete. It’s time for you to make her understand, y’know?”
Pete looked up into Clark’s eyes, searching for some reason for his words, trying to get Clark’s meaning, looking hopeful and yet still concerned about Clark’s feelings too.
“Pete. You’ve liked Lana since forever, you’ll come up with the words to tell her… I think you guys belong together… She just doesn’t know it yet.”
Pete blushed, his cheeks flushing red, and Clark grinned. Pete whirled around to face the gym doors, and Lana was looking at them and she smiled when she caught Pete staring at her, she ducked her head down a fraction, but she just kept … smiling.
Clark felt pretty good, and a little sad, too, but it was a good kind of sad. It was the right thing to do. Pete needed Lana and even if she didn’t know it, she really needed Pete. She was pretty, sweet and very kind, a perfect girl—just not his perfect girl. All he could think of when she sat and cried over Whitney was how Pete would have handled it, and what he’d say to make her feel better and you didn’t have to be a genius to figure out Pete was way better for her than he was … he didn’t think he could ever feel the same way, to want to give everything of yourself to one person. He mulled the thought over in his mind a bit and then headed down the hall. Red had looked pretty upset with Whit, he better find him and then they could figure out what to do with Whit. He froze—shit. Red was leaving. He was leaving again.
Clark had been pushing the thought into the back of his mind, but it kept creeping out and kicking him in the gut. It was even harder somehow now that they were older, they had to act like it was something they could deal with easily, but crap! He really didn’t want Red to go. Who was going to help him keep Whit from killing himself, him and his stupid stunts.
He looked up and down the halls, but still couldn’t find Whit or Lex, and no one had seen either of them for a while. Some kids thought they might have gone out to the woods with some juniors, there was supposed to be a party out there. Rumor was that someone got a keg.
Great, Clark thought. That meant that Whit was going to be staying in the barn again tonight. He sighed and went into the restroom. He walked over to the sinks and checked himself out in the mirror. Sometimes he felt as though ‘sucker’ was written on his forehead. Here he was alone at the dance, hooking up one of his best friends with another one, a girl that he’d liked. He stood and stared at himself, trying to see what it was that people saw when they looked at him. What was in his face that made people treat him like an idiot.
And then he began to be aware of a myriad of sounds. His body heard it before his brain made any kind of connection, a little gasp, a groan. A bump against the stall wall. Geez. Eew, someone was getting busy in the stall.
There was another groan and gasp, and a smack, like someone hit the wall of the stall and a curse: “Fuck, my elbow.” And oh my god—that was Whit! He’s got a girl in the boy’s bathroom—god. He’s trying to get expelled, the idiot.
Clark was turning to knock on the stall and let Whit have it when he heard another voice: “Shut up, you big girl—shit, stand still, you’re pushing me across the floor.”
Clark froze.
Whit’s voice curled into his ear like a snake: “ Shhh. Quiet! Oh—fuck! That’s good!” It was low and rough, and sent shivers down Clarks back. A vision of what was going on in the stall flashed through him like flames, and his face and ears were on fire.
The other voice cursed, and then the sounds got breathier, kind of wet, and Clark tried to leave fast, and silently, but sweat was running down his face, and rolling down his back, he felt like he had a fever and his eyes were hot and scratchy. He rubbed them, and bit his lip hard when a low moan echoed against the tiles. The sudden pain in his lip helped break the spell, and his feet could move again.
Just as his hand touched the restroom door handle, he heard Whitney groan like he was dying, and it made him groan inside.
“Wade! Oh, fuck, fuck…”
Clark escaped and sped out to the lawn of the school heedless of someone seeing him. He leaned up against a post and gasped, trying to regulate his breath. He felt too hot,his eyes burned and itched, and he rubbed them until tears wet his hand and he needed to get home. He needed to talk to Red. But when he thought of Red, he just felt even more miserable and upset, and he pushed all thought out of his mind. Forget the dance, forget Pete’s friend, forget everybody. He was going to go home, have cookies, watch TV and go to bed and *not* think a whole lot. He was going to make it his goal, this not thinking.
TBC, very soon.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
10/17/04 12:18 am (UTC)I'm also glad Clark finally figured out he didn't really like Lana in that way. I like what you are doing with her character, by the way. I like that she's having to work to get Whits attention. I also dig Pete (and OMG! Pete's brother? The BEST brother in the world!!! The Rosses rock! Wish we had seen more of them on the show.)
Er...Oh yeah! So, Clark's discovery in the bathroom? *total shock* Can NOT wait to see what he does with it! And speaking (again) of Lex not being the one in the bathroom, what happened to Lex after he was watching Whit get ready to do something stupid? Still loving this story! Fuck it. I'm totally and hopelessly in love with ALL your WiPs! You're like some kind of fic crack dealer parceling them out bit by delicious bit!
Sorry you had a shitty day, hon. *hugs*
I prescribe porn and chocolate!
Get
Your
Porn
Here
(no subject)
10/17/04 01:32 am (UTC)(no subject)
10/17/04 01:06 am (UTC)Unless Whit has a new nickname for Lex. :narrows eyes suspiciously at Roxy:
(no subject)
10/17/04 01:33 am (UTC)(no subject)
10/17/04 02:18 am (UTC)(no subject)
10/17/04 02:23 am (UTC)(no subject)
10/17/04 02:29 am (UTC)You are the master of the teh teen sexual angst!!!
*bounce*
Love it!
(no subject)
10/17/04 03:01 am (UTC)(no subject)
10/17/04 04:12 am (UTC)*bounce*
You ARE naughty!!!
*snerk*
(no subject)
10/17/04 03:29 pm (UTC)(no subject)
10/17/04 03:47 pm (UTC)Grrrrrrrrr....
(no subject)
10/17/04 02:41 am (UTC)Secondly - wow! Whitney and Wade in the men's room, and Clark getting incredibly turned on by it. I love him running home to his mom's cookies so he doesn't have to think about it.
(no subject)
10/17/04 03:07 am (UTC)And thank you so much for the hugs, but I actually kind of meant I'm such a klutz, that I'd trip the damn button by accident, not so much a desire to rain down nuclear fire,heh! I lost the story(again) and it took me a while to find it.*blush, grin, feel like an idiot*
(no subject)
10/17/04 03:56 am (UTC)I'd trip over a pair of shoes and bomb Europe or something. Otherwise it would just be "Hey what does this button do? It's all big and red and shiny! No one will notice if I give it a little push."
The Clue Bus Is Coming
10/17/04 09:12 am (UTC)And, also Hugs. I hope that the narrowly avoided nuclear meltdown is better, but if you need any thing, tell me or I shall be forced to flog you publicly. Or tease and or pester you.
Re: The Clue Bus Is Coming
10/17/04 03:31 pm (UTC)Thank you for the beautiful hugs!*g* And you know you're at the top of my list to whine on!
(no subject)
10/17/04 09:12 am (UTC)(no subject)
10/17/04 03:33 pm (UTC)(no subject)
10/17/04 09:48 am (UTC)Your current icon look like my OTP. Who are they, really?
(no subject)
10/17/04 03:39 pm (UTC)The icon is a panel from Hellblazer, one don't have, so I'm not completely sure*blush* The one not nude is John Constantine, though. I just thought it was a pretty picture!
(no subject)
10/17/04 10:42 pm (UTC)Hope you're feeling better, I've posted a little more of that thing I'm working on, if that helps.