The Memoirs

Whitney looked at the other two people at the table. Chloe was fidgeting nervously with his cup of coffee, and he absolutely could not catalogue the look on Clark's face. His and Chloe's backpacks were slung over the back of the table, and Clark's was in the floor. "We're early, guys, c'mon. Relax. It's not like Pete's not gonna show up. You guys always do this."

Clark wasn’t so much nervous... as agitated. He and Lex were on better terms, but it wasn’t a place he liked. He wanted to be on the best, BEST terms with his aushna', and while they were already getting there, he found himself unable to concentrate and zoning out. Even now he blinked, glancing up at Whitney and sighing softly before taking a little sip of his orange juice. "Yeah... we do. Every morning. But things are different, Whitney."

Chloe was anxious to see Pete, and her best friend. She wanted to get them here, so she'd stop thinking about Lana and bursting into tears. She'd already done it twice this morning, though in the privacy of her home and once in her dad's arms, but she... she didn’t think she could handle another crying jag. So she just smiled a little, crookedly, and nodded. "Yeah."

Whitney smiled at Clark. "Yeah, I know. But different is good, right? I know... I know you guys have been having it rough with Pete lately, Chloe told me a little, but c'mon. Chloe told you how he was at the mall the other day. He seemed to be gettin' to okay."

"With you guys. It still doesn’t excuse my behavior." Clark said softly. He'd been in the lab all day yesterday with his lover, and he'd found himself thinking about his friend at the oddest hours. He missed him, because he could feel the emotional distance. And it hurt him.

"Clark... stop beatin' yourself up, okay? You didn't know. Hell, I didn't know, and I was friends with both of 'em. Menkins--Grayson--what the fuck ever his name is and Pete."

"Yeah. But I’m--" An alien. "More intuitive about that stuff. I should have caught it--a best friend catches those things. But I didn’t, because I had Lex stuff, and… yeah." Another sigh, and he shifted in the brand spanking new jeans he'd bought yesterday. He'd asked Lex for a loan of a hundred bucks and gone on a mini spending spree.

The hundreds of curls he'd had just yesterday were gone. Cut short but modern, it was a good look for him and accentuated his long, full cheek bones and jaw line. Which, you know, he liked. He was wearing snug, dark blue jeans, deep brown leather shoes and a snug green t-shirt underneath his new jean jacket.

He looked nice. And he really liked that.

"Dick." Chloe said softly. "Its so sad and tragic, but oh, Pete and Shayla are so in love." She pushed her blond locks from her eyes and sighed softly.

Whitney nodded his head. "You got that right. Man. Be happy for him, Clark; you'll see 'em together and you'll see."

"Yeah, I’ve heard." He poked again at his red backpack plopped on the table in front of them, and smiled a little. "You guys ready for class?"

"Not even close, but what's new?" Whitney snuggled Chloe into his side. "Chloe's helped me a lot though."

"Guys, I'd rather stab a vital organ through and through then go sit in class today." Another heaved sigh. "Is it like this for everyone? I mean, I’ve got the Torch, and not even that is giving me happies. I just want… school... to be over. OVER over."

"Chloe, sweetie," And now Clark smiled. "We've got another six years, eight for a masters degree. We're going to be in class for a while."

"Yeah, but guys, college is soooo different."

Whitney shrugged his shoulders at that. "I gotta go with Chloe on this one. I just want it to be over, man. Least I get to graduate this year; you guys gotta hang in there one more. But you can do it. I have faith."

Clark ever so elegantly, demurely, sweetly, flipped Whitney the bird.

And it was the first thing Pete saw. Dressed to kill, in the damn tight jeans and sweater Shay had made him buy while in a sexual hazy lust, he was stepping in through the door to McDonalds, Shayla on his arm, and watching one of his very best friends in the world flick someone off. Which was insanely funny, because the last time Clark had done it, he'd been ten. Pete grinned at Shayla, unable to help it, winding his fingers through hers as they stepped around the tables, backpack in tow. "You look gorgeous, Shay. Don’t forget that."

Nervous was the least of the words that Shayla could use to describe how she felt.

She actually felt like her stomach was about to drop out of her body and into the floor so all the little butterflies could escape. It had taken an act of God to get her out of the house this morning, and it had only happened because she knew Pete was waiting downstairs to pick her up.

Pink jeans, of course, the peasant blouse that Megan had sent her to match it, black boots, and blonde hair. "I'll try not to," she said, gripping his hands in a death grip.

Whitney just snickered and flipped Clark back, but then nudged Chloe with his elbow and nodded towards the door.

Chloe stood up, waved down Pete, Shayla, and have of Smallville, and grinned as she walked around the table and enveloped her friend in a big tight hug. "Oh, we are so going to be the cutest girls in class today! May all the boys wither and die at our cuteness." But she was grinning, broadly, pulling Shayla away from Pete so she could sit by her. "Come on, I saved you a seat from these big lunk heads."

"Hi, Shayla." Clark smiled warmly at her, than glanced up at Pete with a crooked one too. "Hey, Pete."

"Hey, Clark." He said easily, nodding towards him... but not giving any other outward affection. "Saw you flippin' Jocko off here, man. Excellent."

"Hi," Shay said, waving. This, she could do. She knew everybody. Chloe was cool, and Whitney was if you didn't mind the whole blonde thing--which she really didn't, seeing as how she was one herself now--and Clark was... well, Clark. And she still hadn't spoken to him since she'd found out he was friends with Dickhead. She hugged Chloe back desperately tight. "Cutest girls in school, right."

Whitney looked distressed. "I didn't do anything. I just pointed out that school would be over for me come June, but you poor saps gotta go another year."

Clark noted the distance from Shayla, and it wasn’t anything he could do. And from Pete. God, dammit, he'd fucked up big time. "Yeah… Whit was just rubbing it right on in."

Pete took a seat on the other side of Chloe… as far away from Clark as he could get, actually. It wasn’t intention... or, not all intentional, but he found himself sitting and smiling at the two of them. "Yeah, Whitney, we fucking hate you man. You know exactly what you can kiss. You abandoned me at the clothes store, dude. We are so not cool." But he said it with a grin.

Whitney raised his eyebrow at that. "Come on, Pete," he said, grinning back. "Don't make me trot out exactly what I abandoned you to."

Shayla flushed. Bright red.

It clashed with her pink.

"Shayla, please. You look so outrageously cute. Come on, okay? I so wanna borrow that shirt." Chloe grinned at the blush and hugged her again. Last night, right before bed, she'd had a realization. Shayla was the girl she'd been waiting to be her friend. She needed this in her life-- a girl friend who could talk about clothes and makeup and periods and boys and sex with, and it was okay. Hee! She was just tickled… well, pink.

"Are you trying to say we made out in the dressing room, Fordman?" Pete cocked a brow.

"Megan sent it to me. From... Milan, I think. Wherever it is her shoot is." She held out her arms. "It's soft. Feel. And there's a bottle of pink glitter I got back at the house, nail polish, that Graham'll be bringing back in a couple months, that'll go great with this." She giggled. "Okay. I can do this, goddammit. I'm a Senatori."

Whitney cocked one right back. "No, I'm trying to say you had sex in the dressing room."

Shayla's blush?

Deepened.

"We did, actually." Pete offered a sigh, though he reached under the table and squeezed his girlfriends hand. "And you, eh? No sex in the dressing room for you. Pete and Shay-1. Jocko? Zeerrooo."

Chloe was ignoring the disturbing sex talk, just sighing as she touched the soft shirt, and let out a squeal. "I will beg you to borrow it, okay? Yes! Borrowing!" But she grinned again and set her elbow on the table, cupping her chin, and sipping her coffee. "You and I have homeroom, first and fourth period together, so we can totally chill out and write notes back and forth."

Shayla squeezed right back, tightly as she could. Which to Pete? Probably felt like nothing. But still. "Okay. Yeah. Homeroom, first, and fourth. By fourth, I should be a total basket case."

Whitney just raised his brow again. "Do we really want to get into comparing scores here, Ross?" Whitney asked gently. "Remember the whole discussion we had about comparisons sucking because you always came out on the... short end?"

Chloe just grinned. "You've got second and third with Clark, here," She pointed to the silent giant. "And then fifth and eighth with Whit, and Pete sixth and seventh. You’ve got it made home girl, and Whitney Fordman, I don’t want to HEAR that anymore, OSCAR MEYER!"

"Short my ass. If there weren’t ladies present, I'd give you an earful. And an eyeful." He glared, but it was out of amusement, and grinned again at Shay. "Alright, ya'll, I’m hungry. Lets eat!"

"This is going to be a relay race," Shayla lamented, still clinging to Pete's hand. "I can see this now. Yo, Chloe, meet me after third and pick Shayla up. Whitney, meet me outside of fourth to pick up Shay. Pete, can you take her after fifth?" She looked across the table at Clark, and tried a smile, but it just wasn't quite ready to come yet. "Yeah... yeah, eating would be good."

Whitney blinked innocently. "What? Me? I never used to talk this way, Chloe. Your fault." He picked up his coffee cup and hid his smirk behind it.

Clark wanted nothing more than to go home, curl under the sheets with Lex, and hug him as tightly as he could.

"Yeah, definitely." Chloe grinned cheerfully and climbed to her feet, grabbing Shayla's arm, and tugged her along, flouncing off as she shot back at her boyfriend, "It was all hiding under virginity. Good thing we got that taken care of." Sweet, wicked grin, before she tugged Shayla to the short line.

And Pete climbed to his feet and followed right after.

Whitney grinned at his girlfriend, and didn't move. Once it was just him and Clark at the table, Whitney leaned forward. "Okay, Clark... give." Under the table, he slid his hand over, and left it lying lightly on Clark's knee. "What's bothering you?"

Shayla let herself be tugged along behind Chloe, all the while grabbing Pete and dragging him along behind her. "Guys? Okay. I mean, Clark's not exactly my favorite person right now, but... what's up with the brooding silence thing?"

Clark just shook his head and took a drink of his juice.

"Don’t really know." Chloe shrugged a slender shoulder and tugged them both to stand in line. "He came in looking all I-was-just-on-the-Jenny-Jones-makeover-show, and he was a little upset over some stuff, but something… I dunno." She sighed. "Lesson one in Clarkese. He'll speak up eventually."

Pete shrugged. He was feeling strange over the entire situation… and something in him didn’t want to talk to Clark yet. Not for a while. There was bad grapes between them, and he'd have rather not ruined what was looking to be a good day, by Clark.

Whitney squeezed a little harder. "Don't try that with me, Kent. There's a little nagging buzz in the back of my head telling I know better, so cut the crap and tell me what's bothering you, okay?" But it wasn't said unkindly.

Shayla shrugged. "Don't know if I should bother draggin' it out of him or not," she said quietly. "He and I tend to... grate on each other. Think it's my fault though; I kinda popped off at him a few days ago for making nice-nice with Dickhead."

Clark shook his head again. "Just stuff. Its alright, Whit." He gave him a little smile, though it was felt. "I’m alright. Its just been a hard weekend."

"He was talking to Dick?" Pete asked it, softly, looking at her with his eyebrows furrowed. "Before we made up?"

Chloe just. Sighed. She took the money out of her wallet, stepping up to the cash register and offering her winning, dazzling smile. "Three waffle specials, one pancake, and Shay, what do you like to eat sweetie?"

At least just stuff was getting somewhere, Whitney thought wryly. "You want to tell what "stuff" is, Clark?" He returned the smile, but didn't move his hand. "Look. I know I'm not Lex, but hey... I'm here. You can talk to me, remember? You came to me when you needed to talk, and that hasn't changed."

"Yeah," she said softly. "He was. I listened through one of the little secret doorways." She turned to Chloe. "Um, God, you're kidding, right? Just... get me a Egg McMuffin and a coke."

"I know." But it was obvious there was nothing going to be coming out of his farm boy lips, because no matter what the package looked like, he'd always be a farm kid at heart. And there was just nothing coming out.

Chloe motioned, grinned at the lady, and offered the twenty dollar bill. Before Pete could utter a word, she tossed a glare at him and moved her weight to one hip. "I’m paying today, you pay tomorrow. Comprehende?"

"Aye, mamacita." Pete growled, but he give her hand a friendly squeeze as he looped an arm around Shayla's waist. "What... Uh… what kind of things did they talk about?"

Whitney didn't give up. "Look, if I have to take a crowbar--or a Chloe--to you to find out what's up with you, then I will. I fucking invented the strong and silent bullshit, okay? I know my way around it." He shifted in the booth so that he scooted close to Clark to give more room around the rest of the table. "Spill."

"I just had a hard weekend." But it was good for him, he knew, to talk about it, and the words filled his mouth before he could let them out. "Its complicated."

Shayla nestled back against Pete. "Um... that Dick was really upset too." She flicked her eyes up. "Dick hadn't figured out that you and I were... you know, together together, and Clark kinda clued him in. That upset him, selfish fucker. But... um... Dick said... that he and Bruce... hadn't. Been."

Whitney nodded. "Complicated. I can just imagine. How about a few details? And tell you what; we'll have a game at lunch, okay? You and me and the basketball court, and we'll talk more. Deal?"

"Oh." Fuck. Pete looked at her and felt guilt, and as soon as he got home this afternoon he'd call Dick and apologize to him. A lot. And feel bad all over fucking again, and the thought of it soured his mood considerably. Now he just felt bad. But bad feelings were perpetual these days, and he just had to go with the flow.

"Dunno how much a game will help, but I'll take you up on the offer." Clark smiled a little at him. "Just stuff, with Lex and me, Whitney. Don’t worry too much about it. Its worked out, already."

Shayla caught the change in his mood. "Pete... c'mon. Don't. He's just a selfish motherfucker who's trying to keep you from feeling good and feeling happy about yourself, and just... don't let him do it, all right?"

Whitney nodded. "If it's worked out already, then why is it still nagging you? Why the new hair'n shit?" He looked around quickly, and then slid a quiet arm around Clark's waist and squeezed gently. "Please? Talk to me."

Pete shook his head a little, pulling her tighter to him and smiling crookedly. "Its all cool, Shay. Today’s gonna be fucking awesome, I’m tellin' ya. Lunch, we'll all meet up somewhere and chill, aight? Clark'll lead you to where we always sit."

And it comforted. A lot. He closed his eyes, letting his head fall a little, and sighed softly. "You're a good friend to me, Whitney. Thank you. It helps, so much more than you think." But then he shook his head, and heaved a heavy sigh. "Lex and I went out to a club this past weekend. Friday night. Hung out, drank some, had some sex. To make a long story short, Lex gave a doorman some crack as payment, along with some money… and I hit the fan. He left me in the club, but I got home alright, and shit. I made him... I yelled at him. And told him how disappointed I was in him, and how he wasn’t who I thought he was… it hurt him. Even this morning, when we woke up, I could feel it hanging around us like a cloud."

Whitney cringed slightly. "Yeah, but come on, Clark. You know, you had a right to hit the fan like that. I got more muscle in my head than I do brain cells, but even I managed to figure out that drugs are bad and not a form of currency." He shook his head at the rest of it. "Christ almighty. You leave Lex Luthor to me, Clark. Leaving you in a club like that? What the fuck was he thinking?" Whitney growled slightly. "Fucking idiot." He squeezed Clark's waist tight again. "You said what was on your mind, Clark, that's never a bad thing. And Lex... Lex needs to understand that you're not going to coddle him like the rest of the assholes he might know. You're there for him, and sometimes that means jerkin' his head outta his billion-dollar ass."

Shayla put her head on Pete's shoulder. "Wonder if anybody'd notice if I didn't show up today."

"No." Clark shook his head, firmly. "No. Its not like that. At all. Lex has so many more problems, Whitney. It wasn’t about the drugs, because he didn’t know it was wrong. Do you understand what I mean? He didn’t know that I'd flip… its just a basic thing for him." His heart spiked in defense for his beautiful lover. "He's such a badass, but so fragile inside. And I was angry, but I said all those things and I shouldn’t have." He shrugged one massive shoulder. "We talked for a long time, though. He forgave me for saying it, and I forgave him for not knowing. Things are alright." A low shrug. "Maybe its just me."

"I doubt it," Whitney growled again. "I understand what you mean, but we both know that Lex is smart. I don't care what he says about what he used to do, there's basic knowledge that everyone shares, and one of those thing is, drugs suck." He hugged Clark again. "No. Don't beat yourself up, and don't blame yourself, okay? You did right."

He shrugged again and hugged Whitney back, pressing his face into Whitney’s hair a moment before letting go. "Thanks, Whit. I needed someone who’s not related to me to talk to about it."

"You're going to school, missy." Pete was loaded down with things in his arms, and offered her a big grin as he picked the tray up, Chloe right behind him with drinks, and walked back to the table.

"Alllrighty," Chloe declared, reaching the Formica before Pete and setting down the tray of coke and coffee. "Here we are, guys." She grinned at Whitney, noticing his move but not saying anything, and began to unload the tray as Pete angled his slow ass over.

"You're welcome." He returned the hug, closing his eyes for a moment and holding Clark tightly, then letting him slide back as he stayed scooted close. "That's what I'm here for." He glanced up at Chloe, over at Clark, and then back up at her again as he reached out to help her unload the coffee and soft drinks.

"You know, I'm one of those people who completely humiliates herself on the first day of school by like, busting her ass in the cafeteria and spilling her tray all over, so please, c'mon, think it over?" Shayla pled, trying to help Pete with the tray.

The little blond nodded, and slipped in in front of Clark, offering him a grin as she passed out the various foodly things. "Waffles… waffles… didn’t forget your pancakes, baby." She offered them to her boyfriend, even as Pete was still setting the tray down.

"I am too, but lemme tell ya, Shay. That kinda shit is what makes'r breaks you. We're a boring town...if you play it off right, you're a hero." He grinned and glanced up. "Chloe, 'member when I spilled that glassa tea all over myself?"

Chloe snorted out a laugh. "Oh, God, Yes. Clark must have gotten you the entire napkin dispenser."

"Man, just tea everywhere." Pete smiled too, offering Shayla to slide into the booth first as he joined her. "But I played it off, snorted and burst out laughing over it, and it was cool. I wasn’t a total spazz."

Shayla slid in first, scooting down towards the bottom. "But I'm not cool like you," she whined. "I'll be the school idiot."

"Thanks, sweetie." He took the pancake stack and grinned at her, and then held his hand out again and put Clark's down in front of him. "There you go. Okay. Shayla? Relax. You had a public catfight with Chloe in the Talon. You're going to be fine."

Chloe grinned fondly. "You know, I really hated your guts, Shay." She reached over and squeezed her friends hand.

"It'll be alright, Shay." Pete nodded. "You've got me and C'lo, and Whit." A moment. "And Clark. So I think you're going to be just fine, you know?"

It was coming out of Clarks mouth before he could stop it. "Are you angry at me, Pete?"

...And Silence.

"I wasn't too wild about you either, you know." She grinned back at Chloe, and squeezed her hand back. Then she looked over at Pete, and pulled gently away from Chloe to wrap her arms around Pete's waist. "Pete... you don't gotta do this now. Clark..." and she just glared.

"Shayla... I say this with all the love in the world... and as someone who has seen you naked... shut the fuck up." Whitney glared daggers at her.

Oh, boy. Chloe froze, watching the boys look at each other, and gave Shayla one sharp look before looking back down into her food.

"What do you think, Clark?" Pete shrugged it and kept right on talking like it was nothing... then a blink. "Whitney’s seen you naked, Shay?"

Oh. Blown off. Heh. Clark straightened again, ached for his lover, and shook his head. "Don’t ignore me, Pete. We've been friends for a long time, and I--"

"If you say you know me, Clark, I swear to God I’m getting up and leaving."

"Yeah. He did. Long story; I'll tell you this afternoon, okay? I didn't do anything with him; he just watched." She rubbed his arm. "Calm. Clark's your friend, remember that."

"Shayla, could you stop talking to him like he's a four year old?" Clark said it softly. "He's not. Don’t dumb him down."

"Don’t talk to my girlfriend that way, Clark."

"Don’t let her talk to you that way, Pete."

"You know," Pete shifted. "Since when do you get off telling me what I can and can’t do? Since when have you been, at all interested in my life? What, the fun with Lex is over, and now you're back? it doesn’t work that way."

Oh. Oh. That stung. Clark swallowed and shook his head... even though it was the truth. Not all the truth, but most. "I’ve always been interested. I’m always worried."

"Oh really? Than why didn’t you know about me and Sam until it was over and I was fucking miserable? And not even then did you come and see if I was alright."

"I was trying to leave you alone." Clark said softly. "I didn’t--"

"Man, I really don’t want to hear your excuses, alright?"

Shayla didn't let go of her grip on Pete's waist. "I'm not dumbing him down, Clark, I'm telling him the truth. He doesn't have to deal with this now if he doesn't want to. Like it or not, I'm here to protect Pete and give him a fucking backbone, so if he wants to walk away, he can, instead of being walked all over like Dickhead Fucking Grayson did to him!"

Whitney glared again. "Shayla, sweetie... butt out, okay?"

Pete stopped a moment… looked at her. "You don’t think I have a backbone?" A moment...and he looked back to Clark. "You have not been interested in my life ever since you escaped all day that one time. You haven’t come back. What, because you fucked Lex you think it gives you the right to cut everyone out of your life? Not ask if they were still alive and breathing?"

"Watch where you tread, Pete." Clark said it softly, but there was an edge as sharp as a knife on it. "What is mine is mine, and you won’t be going into it for whatever point you want to make. Yes, I went and had sex with Lex, because I'd been in love with him for a long time. Yes, I wasn’t as attentive, to any of you, for a long time. And I’m sorry. I’m sorry for it, and there’s nothing I can do."

"I don’t hold on to hurt, Kent, but this cut deep." Pete shook his head. "Man, I thought you were more about shit. But all you are is a liar. As soon as Lex says 'c'mere', you're gonna be there. Ignoring again. How long would this bridge last? A week? A month? Till after school?"

"That’s not fair."

"Yeah. Yeah, it is. Its truly fucking fair. You screwed up, and I'll be damned if I'll feel bad about it."

"I said I was sorry." Clarks voice was even softer. "I’m not going to beg for your friendship, Pete. I thought we knew each other better then that, and that we've been friends long enough to see these things. You knew I was crazy over Lex from the get-go."

"Doesn’t mean you gotta ignore the rest of us. I really needed you, Clark, and you weren’t there for me. That’s not cool, man." Pete shook his head and pulled his stuff together. "I’m gonna go."

"I think you let people walk all over you because you care about them," she said quietly. "And that even includes me sometimes." She stroked his arm. "Pete... come on. Sit back down. Listen to Clark. You were the one that told me how upset you were that you guys weren't friends anymore. So, listen. It's not going to be pretty, but you guys need to do this. Clark... you ain't my favorite person right now, but the same thing goes for you. It ain't going to be pretty, but get your ass off your shoulders and just listen."

Pete… just stared at her. She looked so innocently up at him, but the wound of it struck very, very deep. While she was sleeping with him, letting him caress and touch her, she thought he didn’t have a backbone? That he wasn’t a man? His ego and masculinity screamed at the blow, but he didn’t say anything for the moment. He just looked at Clark, who looked like his puppy had just been eaten.

"I don’t know how to fix this." Clark ignored Shayla, completely, still speaking. "I don’t. I’m not trying to make you feel like the bad guy, because you're not. I just… I got involved with Lex, and the plant, and everything that happened and it all just sort of...it got away with me. And its not an excuse, but I’m just telling you… I’m sorry."

"Don’t be sorry." Pete said softly. "Don’t wanna hear your apologies no more. I’m sick of being second fiddle to Lex Luthor, Clark. I won’t do it anymore. I hate him, and the fact that you love him so much makes me wonder what’s inside of you. So… I’m gonna go." He stood again, gathering his things even as his heart trip hammered. "Chloe, you mind taking Shay to class?"

Chloe glanced up… swallowed, shook her head.

"Good. I'll see you guys later."

Shayla's jaw dropped. Just... dropped. She left her backpack and jacket draped over the back of the chair as she got up to follow her boyfriend. Her throat was tight, and she could barely call out to him. "P--Pe--" She had to clear her throat again. "Pete."

He'd never been more furious, or hurt, in his life. He couldn’t quite pin point it, though, in his screaming, ranting brain, so he just pulled his backpack tighter around his shoulders and walked out into the cold weather. it was freezing, at least 25 degrees, but they'd said it would warm up before the day was through.

Just like his temper.

Pete heard her loud and clear, and just kept right on walking.

She shivered in the cold air, ran out the door a few steps, still calling his name, and when she saw he wasn't going to answer her, she just stood there. Arms wrapped around herself, calling his name softly and teeth chattering in the cold wind. "Pete."

He ignored her, completely, and walked right down the street, around the corner, and he was gone.

Gone.

He'd... he'd left her. Couldn't figure out why. He'd ignored her. Left her. She didn't even realize she was crying as she leaned against the brick wall. She wanted to run after him, but she couldn't. She was cold, her jacket was inside, and... God, she really didn't want to go to school now. All she wanted to do was hide.

"I know, sweetie." And because Chloe knew her very much now, she wrapped her arms tightly around her, hugging her close as she slipped Shayla's jacket onto her little pink shoulders. "Its alright, c'mere." She hugged her, tightly, and pulled her close to go back inside. "Come on, honey. Lets go inside...I'll explain to you the physics of the complex male brain."

Shayla shrugged into the jacket, but didn't say anything except, "I don't want to go to school today, Chloe."

"Yes, you do." She hugged her again. "Shay, sweetie, all you did was bruise his pride. And since he's a prideful guy, you'll just have to let him have his temper tantrum, kay?" Chloe kissed her cheek gently and squeezed her hand. "Come on, let’s go back inside."

And Clark was sort of... shell shocked. He stared after Shay and Pete as they ran off, and looked back down to the table.

Everything he touched lately seemed to get destroyed. "I shouldn’t have said anything." He said softly, looking up at Whitney. "I’m sorry breakfast got ruined."

"No, I don't," she said stubbornly. "I just... want to go home. Figure out what I did wrong. Make it so he doesn't... he's not mad at me. That's all." She leaned tightly against Chloe. "What did I do wrong, Chloe? I was just trying to help."

Whitney slid his arm back around Clark. "You didn't ruin anything, Clark. Okay? Pete's got issues; that's not your fault. It's not your fault he doesn't like Lex for whatever reason he doesn't. You can't... you can't take all this on you when it's not your fault, okay? We'll work it all out."

She sighed and held her close. "You didn’t do anything wrong, sweetie. Guys... let me try and explain it to you. Guys pretend to be macho, when they’re actual totally sensitive mush brains. They like love and romance and blah blah blah. But at the same time, they expect to be treated like they don’t, to preserve masculinity, ego, and pride." She took Shayla’s hand and walked back to their table, where Whitney and Clark had just finished speaking as they plopped back down. "Isn’t that right, guys? Why is it that you don’t like it when someone calls you on being a total mushhead?"

"Pride. Guys got his pride." Clark said softly. "Its different for me, but before, when I dated girls... I dunno. You don’t want them calling you on being weak. Its different with a guy, but you know."

"But... I don't... I didn't... ah, fuck it." She shook her head. "Never thought I'd hear myself saying this, but I shoulda listened to you, Whitney. Should have listened to you and kept my fucking trap shut. Morgan always told me my mouth was gonna get me in trouble." She snapped her mouth shut at that, and took a drink of her Coke.

It was the only thing that'd go down her throat.

Whitney looked sympathetically at Shayla for just a second before flicking his glance to Chloe and swallowing the "I told you so" that was dancing on the tip of his tongue. Now obviously wasn't the time.

She smiled, gently, and shook her head. "You just hurt his pride, sweetie. Did you ever see the Halloween episode?” And wasn’t it sad that she was such a Buffyholic that she could do that. "And Buffy saved Xander from a bully related demise, and he was angry at her for the whole episode? This is the same exact situation. To quote Willow, boys are so fragile."

"Hey!"

Shayla shook her head. "Never seen it. Pete was trying to get me caught up on the stuff I missed, but we didn't get that far." Her mouth closed again as she sucked coke through her straw, and shoved the cold muffin into her backpack.

"Don’t let it get you down, sweetie." Chloe smiled at her, though it was tinged with helplessness, and squeezed her hand. "We'll take you to class, okay? Me and you, we've got homeroom together and all those other classes, so we'll hang out. I'll introduce you to some of the girls I talk to sometimes, we'll have fun. And hopefully, by the time lunch is over Pete'll have gotten his head out of his ass."

Clark was half tuned in, listening to them even as he searched for Lex. He swept out with his mind, looking for him, so he could get strength from Lex's own. Things were still rough between them, but he needed his lover so much right now.

Whoever said depending on someone wasn’t good could suck his dick.

"It's cool, Chloe... I'll just stop saying shit." She gave a brittle smile. "I used to be a flaky twit, I can be that again. At least when I was a twit, people got over being pissed off because I was a twit." Easy shrug.

Lex felt a calm sweep over his mind as he was setting up the laptops for the press conference. Soft gossamer threads that tickled and teased him, and he could help but smile as he felt Clark there. His own consciousness grabbed onto one of those silver threads and tugged, as though playfully saying Hi!

"No, now you're just being an idiot." She glared. "You mean to tell me you're going to sit here and completely change yourself around, all the progress you've made, because Pete's being an asshole and letting his pride get in the way of what you were trying to say?"

Clark grabbed onto it and yeah… oh. He sighed, softly, in contented pleasure, holding on, hugging him in their hearts and imitating the strength Lex always carried with him. Strong. He could be strong. He kept them close now, and would for the rest of the day. It was comfort, lovely, and subconscious. He just felt his baby there, felt his emotions, and in turn… it made him feel better as well.

"It's not like I'm going to run home and dunk my hair in a vat of pink dye again--though come to think of it that's not a bad idea--but hey... it worked for... a good five or six years."

Whitney squeezed Clark's knee again at the happy sigh, and it made him smile.

Lex smiled once, feeling the tight hug and returning it as tightly as he could as he worked.

Chloe kept right on staring. "You mean to tell me you're going to let a GUY tell you what to do, how to feel, and what to be? You’re going to let him hurt you, because you had a little pride? Shayla, don’t be an idiot, alright? You’re wonderful as you are, and if he got his panties in a twist, its his problem.”

Clark smiled at Whitney, sharing the joy of having his friend close with his lover, and murmured his thank you to Whitney even as they gathered their things. "Come on, guys. We're going to be late."

"Not just a guy, Chloe... Pete." She straightened her jacket, picked up her backpack and slid out the booth. "I dumped the shit cause he didn't like it. Yeah, I like it better too, but... just don't know that it's worth it. At least if I have pink hair... you know, it's kind of a shield. People don't know what to think of you so they can't get pissy about what you say. I need that, I guess."

Whitney glared. "Okay, Shayla? Get over yourself. Pete's got his boxers in a bunch over something you shouldn't have said. So, apologize to him. Next time, don't say it." He squeezed Clark's shoulder as he picked up his own backpack and slung it over a shoulder, chugging down the last of his coffee.

"Exactly. Shay, there’s no need to get angry at yourself over it. Just apologize. That’s the way relationships work, the way things are. If I let myself revert back to wallflower Chloe every time Whitney was a bone head, we wouldn’t work. Do you understand? You’re your own person. You just need to apologize to him, and let it go."

Clark didn’t say anything. Partially out of guilt, partially out of contempt, partially out of sadness. Pete had completely and totally pushed him away.

Too bad Clark was the kind of guy who pushed his way back into peoples lives.

"I can't ever imagine you being a wallflower, Chloe. You're just too... energetic. Too something. You'd never be a wallflower. It's just not... who you are."

Whitney shook his head. "And you're missin' the point there, Shay. Point is... don't get dramatic about it."

Chloe watched, absently, as Clark rose to his full height, stepping out of the booth. His jeans fell... perfectly, around his hips and thighs, and yeah, who knew this hunk was underneath all the farm gear. The t-shirt was very... bumpy, to show off nice abs, and she almost had a sisterly affection for him, winding her arm around his waist and hugging tightly. He needed the change, and it looked good on him. And she conveyed that to Whitney, offering him a grin, before letting go and hugging Shayla. "I was a wallflower. Big time. But people change, and its about who you are, not who you're with."

Clark accepted the hug gently, grabbing his bag and sliding it up onto his shoulder. "Come on, guys. I've got the truck, we don’t have to walk."

Shayla's eyes lit up. Escape. "I'll walk, guys. I gotta... you know, clear my head. Stuff like that. But I'll see you there, okay?"

Whitney barely had time to return Chloe's grin before he was hauling Shayla back. "Oh no, little girl. I know that look. Hell no."

Clark kind of looked at the tiny blond, smiling a little so maybe the bad blood could get cleared. "I'll carry you again, if you don’t."

"Just because I barely come up past your waist does not give you license to carry me over your shoulder!" she huffed, but gave a little smile back.

"Sure it does. They say it on TV all the time… men have redundant caveman tendencies. I'll haul you, cause you're little, unless you want to embarrass yourself in front of all these nice people."

"I am not luggage. I do, however, know better than to kick you, because the last time I did, I hurt myself and not you! You and my brother, fucking brick walls, both of you!"

She didn't notice she was being herded out to the truck.

Clark dropped his backpack into the bed of the truck and pulled open the door to the wide front seat. It'd be a squeeze, but the girls were slender and small and he was pretty sure they could fit. He offered Chloe a hand up, then Shayla, leaving Whit to climb in by himself as he went back around to the drivers side. "It helps being a brick wall, you know. When small creatures such as yourself come running to plaster themselves to you, it doesn’t quite hurt as much. Well, except Samson."

"Oh, the dog?" She balked when she realized she was at the truck, but then gave in gracefully and dumped her backpack into the bed as well, squeezing in between Clark and Chloe.

Clark nodded, settling behind the wheel and waiting till Whitney climbed in. It was a snug fit, but not as snug as he thought. He was a big guy, and Shayla barely a blip on the radar. It was cool. He nodded again and cranked the engine, getting the heat running as he rubbed his palms together to get them warm, and sighed softly. "The dog. He's my baby."

Chloe couldn’t help grinning. Sandwiched between her boyfriend and her best friend could definitely do wonders for her mood.

Whitney slipped his arm around Chloe and snuggled her close, kissing her hair and sniffing softly. He loved her shampoo, so much so that occasionally, he bought it himself to use. "I thought Lex was your baby," Whitney snickered evilly.

Clark flashed him a little smile as he pulled his seat belt on. "He said the same thing. Samson though… yeah." There was obvious love for his pup in his eyes, and the sideways grin of a guy talking about his dog. "You guys have to meet him. He's really, really cute." He pulled the truck out of park and into reverse, putting an arm over the back of the seat and looking over his shoulder as he slowly pulled out.

Shayla snorted. "He's like my little nephew. Small, brown, and drooly."

"No way." Clark shook his head, grunting an apology as he accidentally knocked her shoulder pulling his arm back down, and drove slowly out of the parking lot in case kids ran out from the parked cars. "Samson’s great. A little baby, and spoiled. I think Lex likes him a lot." He grinned at that, softly, and rubbed his knuckles of one hand with the other palm, as he stopped at a stop light.

And wondered if Lex was finding his notes yet.

"Just like Shane. Come on, tell me you haven't noticed a correlation there? Both small, both have brownish hair, both lick and drool a lot. And oh, could you please talk to your dog about not crapping in the house because Shane likes to eat it and that's just ick. So yeah. Please?"

Lex caught the stray thought. Notes? He started rifling through his briefcase, looking. What notes?

He grinned, crookedly down at her. "I'll talk to him tonight. Get it in his tiny puppy brain to stop pooping everywhere, despite his being only two months old. Oh! But he knows his name! Man, how cool is that?"

He caught Lex's wonder, too, and grinned broadly. He'd hid notes all over... one in his briefcase, which led to other notes, and still more. He'd hidden the notes all over the place last night, when he'd woken up at the crack of dawn to go to the farm and help his dad, and had started there.

"Thank you. Wait! No! Shane's gone! Never mind. The dog can crap anywhere he wants to." She sighed. "Forgot the little slobber machine was home with Graham."

Lex grinned in victory. Aha. He recognized Clark's handwriting on the note, and settled back in his chair with it. Cuteness filled his thoughts and tugged gently at Clark's mind, followed by a warm wash of love.

Oh. Clark saddened a little at it, giving her a little smile. "I miss him already. He was cute."

Clark ignored Whitney and Chloe sucking face and concentrated on his lover, smiling a little at the love that filled his heart, and thought of the note he'd written right before Lex had shifted and started to wake.

Hey, chicken butt!

Didn’t expect to hear from me, did you? Hehe! I know you're in Metropolis, and believe me, it gives me wicked amounts of glee knowing you're going to be chewing your nails thinking about why I wrote you a letter all day.

Maybe you should look for another little note at the mansion, though. Maybe I’m giving you a chance to blow my mind...because the eleventh hour quickly passed me by, and I'll find you when I think I’ve run out of time.

*coughcluecough*

I love you, AJ. You're the light of my life.

Clark

 

Lex's first reaction was outrage. I do not have a chicken butt!!! I have a very nice ass! He rubbed his fingertips over the letter. Another letter at the mansion, somewhere between eleven and noon... somewhere I've blown him but doesn't that leave a lot of open territory!!

Clark burst out laughing. He'd known his lover would be furious, and it just amused him endlessly. And cause he was bad, he amused himself sharing it with his lover... then blinked and winced at his three passengers. "That… uh. Little kid just flicked me off."

"What little kid?" Chloe rose a brow, glancing over her shoulder and peering.

"He's...gone now."

"I think our driver is hallucinating. This can't be good. Whitney... trade places with me? I need an airbag, just in case."

Whitney whooped once before sucking it back down under control.

Lex snickered himself as he tucked the letter into his breast pocket. All right, Mr. Smartybutt Kent, I'll head back to Smallville by chopper as soon as I can, and my non-chicken butt and I will find this next note.

Clark was grinning cheerfully at the three of them, shaking his head as he pulled into the school parking lot, and parked his dads old truck into a wide enough space for them to get out. He pulled the keys from the ignition and stepped out of the truck, offering his hand to the tiny girl as a soft blush stained his cheeks. "Sorry. It was funny."

"Right. Funny. Nearly getting all of us killed is funny." But she took his hand and slid out under the steering wheel.

"I think its pretty funny." Clark closed the door behind them and got his backpack and Shayla's out from the bed of the truck he could see easily into, handing it down to her and sliding his own over his shoulder. He was nervous, as back to school jitters usually were, but he straightened his spine and followed Whitney and Chloe.

"Thanks." She shouldered her backpack, and then stayed back beside the truck. She actually contemplated climbing into the bed and hiding until first bell and then sneaking back out again.

"No." Clark simply said. Had they been somewhere else other then school, he would have hauled her to his shoulder. As it was he grabbed her elbow, lifting her all but bodily off the ground and leading her towards school. "Are we alright, Shayla?"

"Me? No, I'm not alright, and you're starting to remind me of Graham," she said, sticking her tongue out at him.

"No.." His flush deepened. "I meant, you and me. Are we okay again?"

Yeah. We are. I guess." She sighed. "You... you wanna be friends with Dick, that's your thing. I don't like Dick, but that's my thing. We're cool."

"Alright. I get that." He let her go once they reached the front door, leaving her to Chloe as he clapped Whitney’s hand, squeezed, and snapped at him as was their little morning handshake ritual thing. He let go, waved at the girls, and disappeared into the throng.

Deep, heaving breath. Jesus Christ. "I think... I think I'll wait in the truck for you," Shayla said, starting to hyperventilate. She needed Pete, she wanted Pete, where the fuck was Pete... oh yeah. Pete hated her. Great. "Yeah. The truck."

Whitney watched as Clark disappeared into the milling student body, and shot a glance back at Chloe and Shayla. "C'mon. I'll walk you guys to homeroom."

"Breeeeathe. Remember! Breathe." Chloe instructed, smiling as she slipped her satchel up higher on her shoulder and grabbed Shayla's hand. "Come on, its alright. Sweetie, its just school, and you've got four friends who love you and we're not going to let anything happen. Way better then if you were alone, right?"

"I am breathing," she protested. "And no... there's three of you, and yes, it's better than if I were alone, but it would be even BETTER if I weren't here!!"

"Pete’s here, he’s just being a cock sucker. Come on, Shay, its alright, sweetie." She pulled her with her into homeroom, reached back, kissed her boyfriend soundly, and dragged her right inside.

"He is not! Ooff!" She tried to jerk away from Chloe but Chloe was stronger and jerked her into the classroom. She made a beeline to the pink and white bulletin board at the back of the room, trying her damndest to blend in with the scenery and NOT be noticed. Maybe if she held her arms up she could pretend to be a hat rack.

Steve, one Whitney’s jock friends, turned and blinked. His buddies did to, checking out the new girl like the bunch of mindless twits they were, and he gave her a look up and down, a nod, and turned back to the front.

"Yes, because this isn’t bringing attention to yourself." Chloe muttered, smiling at Steve and his various buffoons as she grabbed her friend and dragged her to two seats near the back. "Sit. Calm. Breathe. Shayla, I swear, if you go into cardiac arrest, I don’t know CPR. So just sit."

"I am breathing," she said through gritted teeth. "I just... I can't do this, Chloe. I'm not good with people! Why do you think I did the whole pink freak thing? So nobody would fuck with me! I am not good with people!" she hissed. But she plunked her ass into the desk and made herself as small as possible.

"You were fine with me." Chloe’s face broke out into a grin. "And Pete…and Whit... and Lex... and Clark…"

"I nearly ripped your hair out," she pointed out. "Clark I've nearly de-balled, Whitney left bruises on my fucking rib cage from where I rammed into his arm, and Lex won't stop calling me little girl!!"

"Its all out of love. Calm yourself. Breathe."

"I'm breathing. Deeply."

~ * ~ * ~

Class passed. Clark wasn’t too interested in it... he never really had been. School was kind of a thing to do, a place to be because he had to. But he'd noticed, freshman year, that the concepts covered in school were things he already knew... that things like math, English, science, came to him as easy as water. Like an eighteen year old sitting in a kindergarten class. He had straight A's... couldn’t think of a time when he didn’t. But he was bored silly.

So he wrote.

He'd been writing fanfic… stories for TV and shit, for years. He'd done a little Farscape, a little Buffy, some X-Files. Its where his tendencies for male/male relationships first came out, and where he discovered himself. He loved fandom, and he loved being able to be a part of it.

That was, until last summer, when an idea had struck him so hard it had woke him up. A story about love, and pain, but mostly love. Two characters, where everything in life went wrong for them, and yet they stayed together. A novel. No one, not even Lex, knew about it. He was halfway through with it, and so that’s basically what he did all morning. Wrote.

Shayla was a nervous... fucking... wreck. Fourth period was over, lunch was being served, and Christ. She hadn't seen Pete all day. Clark had been scribbling in his notebooks all through second and third, but still. He had been a very quiet, towering presence beside her during class because she'd stolen the seat beside him and had basically hidden. All day. She peeked over his shoulder, seeing his scrawly scribbly handwriting. "What's so consuming, Clark?"

"Hmm" He blinked up mind scrawl, looking at her and focusing not on Aiden and Samantha, but on Shayla. He offered a silly grin, shaking his head and grunting a apology as he closed his notebook and lounged back. Chloe and Whit were due in five minutes, and it was only out of luck that he found Shayla and took her with him to the lunch room. He was sitting right beside her, sprawled elegantly, his jacket on the back of his chair and his bag at his feet. "Nothing much. How are you liking class?"

"I hate it. But what's new? I hate school. I've always hated school. It sucks. I can't stand it. This place is making my skin crawl; Christ, there are a LOT of people in this damn school!!" She shivered. "I'm about to lose my mind, I'm dreading the last half of the day, and just... not fun, Clark."

Oh. And because he could see everything she said was a hundred percent the truth, he lay his palm gently over hers and gave her peace. It was almost unconscious to do it, but he tipped his head and smiled at her. "Its going to be alright. The teachers here aren’t bad... they make school fun sometimes. Boring, sure. But not bad. The people... all the guys, and girls, have been checking you out all day, cause you're beautiful, Shay. Don’t dread what’s to come... you tend to keep that mind set if you do."

Deep breaths. Calm. Right. She could do it. Calm. "I can't help it." She dug through her backpack and started nibbling at her uneaten Egg McMuffin from breakfast. "I'm just... not looking forward to the rest of the day. I mean, Chloe's not in any more of my classes, Whitney's going to take me to the next class, but okay. After that? I got two with Pete, and he's... avoiding me. Then I got one more with Whitney, thank God, because I'm going to be a complete and total headcase by the end of the day, and homework is just... the only thing that I'm not freaking over because I can do that shit in my sleep!!"

Oh. Clark tipped his head a little, gently nodding as he heard said Pete walking their way. His walk hadn’t changed in almost twelve years, and Clark gently took their hand as he heard him walk into the lunch room. "Calm down. Okay? Everything’s going to be alright, Shayla. And if its not, I'll kick his ass regardless." But he let her go, because he wasn’t sure Pete would appreciate him hanging on his girl, and stood. "I’m going to go buy a cock, want one?"

Shayla blushed. "Do I want a WHAT?????"

Clark stuttered... fell silent. Turned eight shades of red. Sighed. "Don’t ask, alright? Just... don’t ask." He turned, took the long way around the lunchroom, and disappeared into the hall.

Pete saw him leave. He did. It didn’t make his good feelings towards him any better. He just pulled a seat out, from in front of Shayla, and sat. Because it was his seat, and no matter what...he sat in his seat. He shucked out of his backpack, setting it on the floor, and leaned back into his chair.

"I won't ask." She watched him leave, then watched Pete sit down in front of her. She fidgeted with her book bag, wrinkled her coat as she took it off, shredded a bit of her McDonald's wrapper, all waiting for him to say something. When he didn't, it kind of broke her heart, but she didn't look up at him again. "Pete?"

He glanced up, once, then back down to the table, arms slipping across his chest, crossed and resting against his chest.

"Okay." She crumpled her muffin up in what was left of the wrapper, no longer hungry. Her eyes were slightly blurry as she fumbled with the straps of her backpack, and finally, after about five tries, she picked it up and threw it over her shoulder, grabbing her jacket and knocking her chair over on the way out.

He looked up, watching her go, and alright. She was his girl, and he felt bad. She was making him feel bad! God, dammit! Pete glared again, a little deeper, and said, "Don’t leave."

"Pete... I... not gonna stay if you're not going to talk to me, okay?" She held her jacket against her chest and sucked down the tears. "I just... no, I can't. Okay? I'm sorry. Whatever I did, whatever I said, I am so sorry. I didn't mean to, you know that, but this... I can't. Just can't."

"Sit." Not a question. A command. "Sit down, right now."

She jumped. And responded, sitting back down, tangled straps over her shoulder as she perched on the edge of the chair.

He leaned forward, his eyes hard though not unkind, and looked at her. Just looked. "I’m very angry at you. You should know that by now."

"I do know that. That's why I'm leaving, cause I can't stand it."

"Do you know what you did?"

"I have no idea!" she hissed. "All I know is, I was trying to tell Clark to fuck off and leave you alone, and when I said that you let people you care about walk all over you, you just... you left me."

He looked past her a moment, at nothing... blinked a little, looked down. Then up, into her face. "Do you really think I don’t have a backbone?"

"Is that what this is about?" She stared at him. "You... Pete, you're just... you're fucking amazing. Okay? You are. I love you. You have a HUGE backbone when outsiders fuck with someone you care about. You really do. But... but when it comes to people you love... like Dick, and Clark, and Me and and Chloe and Whitney... you let them... you let them walk all over you. Cause you do love them and don't want to hurt them or their feelings. And it's okay to do that, and that's what I'm trying to tell you. Or was, this morning, anyway."

"When we're having sex, do you think of me as spineless? As a coward, as someone who can't stand up for himself, even with people he loves? When I’m in you, are you wondering if I could be more of a man?" Pete demanded, his eyes flashing with deep hurt and pride.

She shook her head. "When you're making love to me... only thing I think of you as is Pete... man I love and who loves me... who protects me and takes care of me."

"Why did you tell me you were giving me a backbone, then, Shayla? In front of my friends?"

She blinked. "Is... that's..."

"Yeah. I agree." He shifted and sat back, out of the intimate circle they'd pressed into while speaking. He crossed his arms again, and looked away. Pride wounded, ego smushed. "You said it, so you've got to believe it."

"No. I just... I can't believe that's what you're upset with me about." She jerked back as he leaned away, and wrapped her jacket around her. "I just... you... you know my family, Pete. You know Graham. You know how they are. You know... I just can't believe you think I think that. Yes... I do think you're too fucking nice for your own good sometimes. But if you... you think I think that... I don't. I wouldn't be with you if I thought that. You know my family, Pete, dammit! Shit like that? Doesn't even register on the scale."

"With anyone else, Shay, I wouldn’t have minded. But you're Shayla, and I didn’t think you'd ever think that about me. I opened myself up to you, and you think I’m spineless? Too nice? Alright, I won't be too nice anymore. And I'll tell you I’m angry at you, and I don’t really want to talk to you right now." Pride, fierce pride, leapt up and snagged him by the throat. "If that’s how you feel."

"Then why did you tell me to sit back down?" The tears wouldn't be held back this time, and she left her crap at the table as she ran for the door, the hall, the bathroom, somewhere, just to get the fuck out.

He watched her go. And kicked himself in the ass, letting his head drop down to his palms.

Clark swallowed, and handed Whitney the change left over from the drinks. He'd been short ten cents, and Clark was more then happy to oblige. However, what he didn’t expect was Shayla to run past him in a cloud of tears, Chloe follow, and he and his friend to stay standing in the hall. "Huh."

Whitney looked from the running female blurs, to Pete sitting alone at the table. "Okay. Here's the deal. You go find out what's wrong; I'll go find out what's up with Pete, and I'll meet you back here in... ten minutes and we'll compare notes, okay?"

"Here, take the c--..cokes back to the table. I'll...yeah. Think Principal Asskick will mind too much if I slip into the girls bathroom?" He grinned crookedly and walked his 6'4 self down the hall, to the bathroom who’s door was still swinging from the flying girls. He knocked… coughed... then kind of looked around and slid inside. Uht oh. Sobs. "Uh... Shay?"

Wow. How nice where the girls bathrooms? All pink and clean smelling.

"Go away, Clark," she choked out. "I don't... don't wanna talk to anyone right now. Just... get my stuff from the table, okay? Please? I... I uh, kinda left my stuff sitting there when I left."

~ * ~

Whitney took the drinks out of Clark's hand and wove through the tables until he got to Pete. He carefully set the six cans on the tabletop, picked Shayla's stuff up out of the chair, and turned it around, straddling it with his arms folded across the top. "Hey."

"Fuck you, Fordman." Pete muffled from his slump.

"Hello to you too." Whitney left his arms crossed on the back of the chair. "What's up?"

"Shayla. Shayla is up." Pete looked up, eyes flashing. "I made her cry and I can't deal with this shit and I’m tired and I just want things to be okay. I want her to think I’m a man, not a friggin spineless yellow coward."

Whitney nodded. "I'm dating Chloe, so, okay. Take this piece of advice for what it's worth but... next time? Tell her what she did wrong, instead of storming out on her. Might get a faster apology that way."

"I couldn’t. With the shit with Clark, it was too much, and why the fuck are you talking to me?" Pete glared at Whitney again, though it wasn’t felt.

Whitney shrugged. "Why shouldn't I be?"

 

-fin-

go on to the next part