The Fic Formly Known As DustBowlClex
2/7/05 01:54 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
roxyAhA! I have a title-- thanks for the advice ladies--I now call it Stand By Me--what? What? Shut up! No, really, it's a good title! Not the Ben E. King thing-- this one's different, it's a spiritual, and it fits Lex and Clark to a tee, in my mind any way. *g*
So-- Stand By Me.(stop that!)
School was boring—school was *always* boring after the first week when they got their books and Clark read all of them the first night. After that it was a long slow *boring* slide into summer. At least on this day, he was getting out of Math class to help Lana and a few other students paint a banner for the game Saturday. He was excited and a little nervous at the prospect. Lana might live right next door, he might see her everyday but still--she was his secret true love. Chloe may be pretty and smart and funny, and fun to talk to—but Lana was …special. Different. She was beautiful, in a delicate fairy tale kind of way, like one of Mom’s porcelain dolls kind of way, perfect and fragile. And just like a princess in a fairy tale, she’d had suffered heartbreak too, she’d lost both her parents in the meteor storm in ‘24. She was an orphan, like he was until Mom and Dad found him. For a long time he believed that he’d lost his parents the same way Lana did, and that it was sign they were meant to be. Just because he’d been wrong about that didn’t mean they weren’t still meant to be, he thought. At least, they were meant for each other in*his* mind--she was *everything* a girl should be. He sighed. And he knew darn well he stood no chance with her.
Lana was ole Prince Whitney Fordman’s girlfriend. They were the perfect couple, everyone said so. Lana with her long fall of black hair, so silky looking it was a struggle not to run his hands through it, her pink little mouth, Whitney and his gold hair that shone in the sun and his deep blue eyes, that quirky smile he had—Yeah, he thought they looked good together, but so what-- if she could really see me, just look at me for just a minute, she’d know, she’d see it in my eyes—we should be together.
“Clark! Pay attention!” Lana chided as she mixed paint.
Clark fell to earth again, blushing and stammering in embarrassment. “Oh! Sorry…did you want me to--” and quickly gestured toward the banner hanging on the gym wall. The design had been penciled in-- ‘Go Crows’ dominated the center and stylized Crows stood at either end. Lana nodded.
“If you start on the Crows, I’ll do the lettering when I come back. I think my hands are a little steadier than yours, Clark.” She smiled and little dimples that he thought were really cute appeared on each cheek. He watched her walk away. admiring how graceful she was, before turning and quickly slapping paint on the banner.
He was off in another world, humming to himself as he slathered paint on the paper. Suddenly warmth and weight pressed against him and a heavy arm draped around his neck.
“Hey,” a friendly voice said. “Are you thinkin’ about my girl?”
Clark blushed and cursed himself himself for it. “I—I--?”
Whitney squeezed his arm tighter, then let go and pushed him a little. “Just ribbing ya, Kent.”
Clark turned to him and he was right there and smiling, looking over his shoulder at Lana. “I can’t blame you, she’s worth looking at.”
Clark nodded jerkily and continued painting---he was aware of Whitney standing too close to him—but if he moved he’d feel uncomfortable, and if he didn’t move he’d feel uncomfortable. He felt his face flaming and he swore that Whitney could hear him blush. And did he—did he just move closer, did he just touch his—
“Clark! You were hiding something from me!” Lana moved around until she was at Whitney’s side and leaned against him, wrapped her arm around his. She pursed her lips and surveyed Clark’s work with a critical eye. “I didn’t know you had such talent. The Crows look wonderful. Great job.” She smiled and held her cheek up for a kiss as Whitney rolled his eyes at Clark and planted a solid kiss on her. Whitney smiled fondly at her and Clark felt a flare of jealousy.
“You’re making me look hen-pecked “ he laughed and stepped back just a bit from her, bumping Clark’s arm and making him apply a yellow mustache to the Crow’s bill. He looked at Clark with big eyes and said “Oops,” in a low voice. Clark felt his cheeks coloring, and grit his teeth. Go chase yourself, you creep!
Whitney and Lana laughed and walked away. Clark chanced a quick look, and was embarrassed Whitney caught him, but he just smiled. He never seemed to get angry that Clark had a crush on Lana. Well, I wouldn’t worry either if some sorry looking scrub had a crush on my girl. Not like he’s got to worry about me stealing her away. After all, girls just weren’t interested in him. Did it mean he was never going to have a date? Ever?
Pete always assured him that he just hadn’t bloomed yet. He said that a lot, but lately he was looking doubtful. Last time he’d asked him, “Clark, are you trying at all? Are you talking, smiling …anything?” Clark had just shrugged. He wasn’t very good at talking to girls. Or anybody much, besides Pete and Chloe, and Lana and Whitney…and his parents. Boy. He really was a mope.
He started slapping paint like mad on the stupid birds. Why can’t I look like Whitney, blonde and blue eyes and a smile all the cheerleaders faint for—he’s everything, has everything, plus he’s a foot ball hero and—and—it’s not fair. It stinks!
Even Chloe thought Whitney was handsome, and geez knows she never said anything like it to him! He was a freak, and no matter what Mom said he knew he was ugly, googly eyed and fat lipped and too many teeth–and--and --crap. He’d made the crow look like Frankenstein’s monster…nuts.
The sun was already beginning to set by the time the group doing signs had cleaned up and left for home. He trudged across the school’s lot, humming to himself, stopping when a flyer skimmed across the ground and wrapped around his foot. Peeling it off he read the bold type, ‘Revival!’ Yep, That’s what I’ll be doing Saturday, while all the guys and gals are at Lover’s Lane…he knew in reality most of the kids he was having a jealous fit over would be right with him, drug along by their parents—but it felt good to pout.
######
Friday night, and Clark lay comfortably on the porch roof. He liked being out on the roof, looking up at the stars. He enjoyed the heat the roof was giving up from the day and the soothing sound of his parents talking in the kitchen and the soft drone of the radio in the background. He sighed and felt pretty…content actually. He wished on the first star he saw—Star light, Star bright, first star that I see tonight—he sighed—please let me be normal—he wished that same wish every night, the same wish since he first knew he wasn’t like other children. It didn’t mean anything anymore, not really, it was just habit now. Obviously the wish fairy wasn’t paying attention to him, not when he could set fires with his eyes and see through things—not when he could fly,well almost fly. His parents didn’t know about that. He was sorry they knew about the rest.
Out in the fields, in the middle of their land, was a…something—buried deep in the ground. Something out of Amazing Stories, a spaceship--a ship that had dropped him here.
When he was fourteen, frozen with fear, so terrified he couldn’t move from his room because *horrible* things were happening to him, his dad explained to him what he…wasn’t. He wasn’t a normal human. Maybe not a human at all. And if he wasn’t human…
His folks assured him that he was their child, God loved him and sent him to them, a baby boy to raise in the word and to love as surely as the sun rose. But after Dad and he took the ship up from the cellar and buried it deep in that field, he never spoke of it again and Clark didn’t know how to ask. He didn’t know *what* to ask.
Clark looked up at the sky. Dusk had slipped into star filled night while he was thinking. The moon made shadows and patterns of silver light across the yard and it was beautiful, and more importantly, Lana was on her porch.
He watched her swing slowly back and forth on the wicker swing. She was such a pretty picture, graceful and serene as a princess. He wished he were sitting with her on the swing instead of sitting alone on the gravely rooftop.
“Psst!” a harsh whisper came from the bushes lining the road to Nell’s house and Lana jumped, and then started to smile.
Out of the dark came Whitney and Clark twitched. Why did he torture himself like this endlessly?
So-- Stand By Me.(stop that!)
School was boring—school was *always* boring after the first week when they got their books and Clark read all of them the first night. After that it was a long slow *boring* slide into summer. At least on this day, he was getting out of Math class to help Lana and a few other students paint a banner for the game Saturday. He was excited and a little nervous at the prospect. Lana might live right next door, he might see her everyday but still--she was his secret true love. Chloe may be pretty and smart and funny, and fun to talk to—but Lana was …special. Different. She was beautiful, in a delicate fairy tale kind of way, like one of Mom’s porcelain dolls kind of way, perfect and fragile. And just like a princess in a fairy tale, she’d had suffered heartbreak too, she’d lost both her parents in the meteor storm in ‘24. She was an orphan, like he was until Mom and Dad found him. For a long time he believed that he’d lost his parents the same way Lana did, and that it was sign they were meant to be. Just because he’d been wrong about that didn’t mean they weren’t still meant to be, he thought. At least, they were meant for each other in*his* mind--she was *everything* a girl should be. He sighed. And he knew darn well he stood no chance with her.
Lana was ole Prince Whitney Fordman’s girlfriend. They were the perfect couple, everyone said so. Lana with her long fall of black hair, so silky looking it was a struggle not to run his hands through it, her pink little mouth, Whitney and his gold hair that shone in the sun and his deep blue eyes, that quirky smile he had—Yeah, he thought they looked good together, but so what-- if she could really see me, just look at me for just a minute, she’d know, she’d see it in my eyes—we should be together.
“Clark! Pay attention!” Lana chided as she mixed paint.
Clark fell to earth again, blushing and stammering in embarrassment. “Oh! Sorry…did you want me to--” and quickly gestured toward the banner hanging on the gym wall. The design had been penciled in-- ‘Go Crows’ dominated the center and stylized Crows stood at either end. Lana nodded.
“If you start on the Crows, I’ll do the lettering when I come back. I think my hands are a little steadier than yours, Clark.” She smiled and little dimples that he thought were really cute appeared on each cheek. He watched her walk away. admiring how graceful she was, before turning and quickly slapping paint on the banner.
He was off in another world, humming to himself as he slathered paint on the paper. Suddenly warmth and weight pressed against him and a heavy arm draped around his neck.
“Hey,” a friendly voice said. “Are you thinkin’ about my girl?”
Clark blushed and cursed himself himself for it. “I—I--?”
Whitney squeezed his arm tighter, then let go and pushed him a little. “Just ribbing ya, Kent.”
Clark turned to him and he was right there and smiling, looking over his shoulder at Lana. “I can’t blame you, she’s worth looking at.”
Clark nodded jerkily and continued painting---he was aware of Whitney standing too close to him—but if he moved he’d feel uncomfortable, and if he didn’t move he’d feel uncomfortable. He felt his face flaming and he swore that Whitney could hear him blush. And did he—did he just move closer, did he just touch his—
“Clark! You were hiding something from me!” Lana moved around until she was at Whitney’s side and leaned against him, wrapped her arm around his. She pursed her lips and surveyed Clark’s work with a critical eye. “I didn’t know you had such talent. The Crows look wonderful. Great job.” She smiled and held her cheek up for a kiss as Whitney rolled his eyes at Clark and planted a solid kiss on her. Whitney smiled fondly at her and Clark felt a flare of jealousy.
“You’re making me look hen-pecked “ he laughed and stepped back just a bit from her, bumping Clark’s arm and making him apply a yellow mustache to the Crow’s bill. He looked at Clark with big eyes and said “Oops,” in a low voice. Clark felt his cheeks coloring, and grit his teeth. Go chase yourself, you creep!
Whitney and Lana laughed and walked away. Clark chanced a quick look, and was embarrassed Whitney caught him, but he just smiled. He never seemed to get angry that Clark had a crush on Lana. Well, I wouldn’t worry either if some sorry looking scrub had a crush on my girl. Not like he’s got to worry about me stealing her away. After all, girls just weren’t interested in him. Did it mean he was never going to have a date? Ever?
Pete always assured him that he just hadn’t bloomed yet. He said that a lot, but lately he was looking doubtful. Last time he’d asked him, “Clark, are you trying at all? Are you talking, smiling …anything?” Clark had just shrugged. He wasn’t very good at talking to girls. Or anybody much, besides Pete and Chloe, and Lana and Whitney…and his parents. Boy. He really was a mope.
He started slapping paint like mad on the stupid birds. Why can’t I look like Whitney, blonde and blue eyes and a smile all the cheerleaders faint for—he’s everything, has everything, plus he’s a foot ball hero and—and—it’s not fair. It stinks!
Even Chloe thought Whitney was handsome, and geez knows she never said anything like it to him! He was a freak, and no matter what Mom said he knew he was ugly, googly eyed and fat lipped and too many teeth–and--and --crap. He’d made the crow look like Frankenstein’s monster…nuts.
The sun was already beginning to set by the time the group doing signs had cleaned up and left for home. He trudged across the school’s lot, humming to himself, stopping when a flyer skimmed across the ground and wrapped around his foot. Peeling it off he read the bold type, ‘Revival!’ Yep, That’s what I’ll be doing Saturday, while all the guys and gals are at Lover’s Lane…he knew in reality most of the kids he was having a jealous fit over would be right with him, drug along by their parents—but it felt good to pout.
######
Friday night, and Clark lay comfortably on the porch roof. He liked being out on the roof, looking up at the stars. He enjoyed the heat the roof was giving up from the day and the soothing sound of his parents talking in the kitchen and the soft drone of the radio in the background. He sighed and felt pretty…content actually. He wished on the first star he saw—Star light, Star bright, first star that I see tonight—he sighed—please let me be normal—he wished that same wish every night, the same wish since he first knew he wasn’t like other children. It didn’t mean anything anymore, not really, it was just habit now. Obviously the wish fairy wasn’t paying attention to him, not when he could set fires with his eyes and see through things—not when he could fly,well almost fly. His parents didn’t know about that. He was sorry they knew about the rest.
Out in the fields, in the middle of their land, was a…something—buried deep in the ground. Something out of Amazing Stories, a spaceship--a ship that had dropped him here.
When he was fourteen, frozen with fear, so terrified he couldn’t move from his room because *horrible* things were happening to him, his dad explained to him what he…wasn’t. He wasn’t a normal human. Maybe not a human at all. And if he wasn’t human…
His folks assured him that he was their child, God loved him and sent him to them, a baby boy to raise in the word and to love as surely as the sun rose. But after Dad and he took the ship up from the cellar and buried it deep in that field, he never spoke of it again and Clark didn’t know how to ask. He didn’t know *what* to ask.
Clark looked up at the sky. Dusk had slipped into star filled night while he was thinking. The moon made shadows and patterns of silver light across the yard and it was beautiful, and more importantly, Lana was on her porch.
He watched her swing slowly back and forth on the wicker swing. She was such a pretty picture, graceful and serene as a princess. He wished he were sitting with her on the swing instead of sitting alone on the gravely rooftop.
“Psst!” a harsh whisper came from the bushes lining the road to Nell’s house and Lana jumped, and then started to smile.
Out of the dark came Whitney and Clark twitched. Why did he torture himself like this endlessly?
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
2/7/05 07:17 pm (UTC)(no subject)
2/7/05 08:15 pm (UTC)(no subject)
2/8/05 06:17 am (UTC)(no subject)
2/8/05 06:21 am (UTC)(no subject)
2/8/05 06:49 am (UTC)(no subject)
2/8/05 07:03 am (UTC)(no subject)
2/8/05 07:56 pm (UTC)(no subject)
2/7/05 07:48 pm (UTC)(no subject)
2/7/05 08:16 pm (UTC)(no subject)
2/8/05 03:12 am (UTC)(no subject)
2/7/05 07:59 pm (UTC)and lana *shudders*
(no subject)
2/7/05 08:19 pm (UTC)(no subject)
2/7/05 08:08 pm (UTC)Poor boy, all down on his edible self...
*pout*
He needs Lex to come tell him how very fuck- a...how very pretty he is.
*bounce*
Yay!!
Good name!
:)
(no subject)
2/7/05 08:20 pm (UTC)and Thank you--glad you like the name.
(no subject)
2/7/05 08:12 pm (UTC)And
If anyone's looking for a short-term writing gig to pay a few bucks and contribute to a good resource, Harvard's looking for contributors to the African-American National Biography.
http://www.fas.harvard.edu/~aanb/
You never know.
(no subject)
2/7/05 08:22 pm (UTC)(no subject)
2/7/05 08:35 pm (UTC)Give it a try.
:)
*hugs you back*
(no subject)
2/7/05 08:21 pm (UTC)*wanders off to read again*
(no subject)
2/7/05 08:24 pm (UTC)(no subject)
2/7/05 08:33 pm (UTC)Need to go off for my daily Roxy fic worship. Excuse me.
(no subject)
2/7/05 08:46 pm (UTC)(no subject)
2/7/05 10:52 pm (UTC)Poor Clarky! Supermope in every universe. *sigh* Yep, he needs Lex to come along and tell him how beautiful he is.
(no subject)
2/8/05 12:07 am (UTC)do you have any idea how much I love you?
(no subject)
2/8/05 03:40 am (UTC)(no subject)
2/8/05 12:48 am (UTC)When he was fourteen, frozen with fear, so terrified he couldn’t move from his room because *horrible* things were happening to him
Tentacles?! Tentacles?!!! Is this a tentacle story?!!!!!!
Also - Clark is totally clueless about Whitney. Hee! Oh the things he has to learn!
Him and his tentacle. *EG*
(no subject)
2/8/05 01:36 am (UTC)tentacles--*snorffle*
(no subject)
2/8/05 03:21 am (UTC)(no subject)
2/8/05 04:18 am (UTC)(no subject)
2/8/05 06:03 am (UTC)Oh, I think you know where, my friend!
*BEG*
(no subject)
2/8/05 06:03 am (UTC)Yay!!
(no subject)
2/8/05 03:20 am (UTC)and Clark didn’t know how to ask. He didn’t *what* to ask.
psst! Think you meant 'didn't know what to ask'
(no subject)
2/8/05 04:20 am (UTC)And thank you for the heads up--oy! *whacks self*
(no subject)
2/8/05 09:03 pm (UTC)(no subject)
2/8/05 11:38 pm (UTC)(no subject)
2/9/05 01:37 am (UTC)(no subject)
2/9/05 10:30 am (UTC)Another great part, and I like the title.
(no subject)
2/11/05 02:27 pm (UTC)Will come back tomorrow to worship at your feet. Whee Clex <3 <3 <3 <3 <3
(no subject)
2/11/05 03:40 pm (UTC)(no subject)
8/16/05 08:34 am (UTC)Lisa
(no subject)
8/19/05 01:35 am (UTC)