Chlark Fanfic: All The Way, Chapter 11

[babydee1]

Back with another Young!Chlark offering.  It's so sweet to write them at this tender age! :-)

Enjoy!  Awesome banner by summerstar882. Thanks a ton, Jen!  :)

Title:              All The Way 
Author:          BabyDee 
Pairing:          Chlark 
Rating:           PG13 (for now) 
Warnings:     None 
Timeline:      All Seasons.  Works as a sequel to Daisychain.  
Disclaimer:   All characters belong to the CW & DC comics.  
Summary:     Chlark: as they were, are and ever should be. 
Feedback:      …makes me squee. :) 

Author’s note: written for ellyfanfiction, the greatest Chlark author in fandom :) 

Read previous chapter here.  
Read story from the beginning here.

Chapter 11 
Challenger

He really had to stop the fainting thing. 

Clark had avoided Lana like the plague for the rest of the day yesterday.  He had peered into the Torch about an hour after his ‘fainting’ spell, but she’d still been there, and from the look of things she would be there for a while because she was being interviewed by Chloe. 

Well, he’d had no interest in fainting or feeling ill again, so he’d scarpered.  Chloe wouldn’t be too pleased with him, as she’d specifically asked him to help prepare today’s edition for print.  Perhaps he could apologise with a muffin from The Beanery…she seemed to have a fondness for the blueberry ones. 

So the following morning, he’d walked into school with her Daily Planet newspaper under his arm and a large blueberry muffin in his hand, only to stop short at the sight that greeted him from the front yard. 

Everybody had a copy of the school paper.  And they were reading it, including the jocks. 

Especially the jocks, he noticed.  The cheerleaders, too – and they never read anything. 

Clark gulped fearfully.  Had Chloe been so upset with him for bailing on her yesterday that she’d made good on her threat to write up an article on him fainting at the sight of  Lana’s undies? 

He walked cautiously through the throng of students, relieved when none of them seemed to be paying him any attention.  All except one. 

“Kent!” yelled Whitney Fordman, his teeth bared in rage as he scrunched up his copy of the paper into a tight ball.  “Tell your fat friend to keep her opinions to herself if she knows what’s good for her!”

Clark blinked at the venom in the older boy’s voice.  “I…what?”

“You heard.”  The balled-up paper hit the side of his head and fell to the ground. 

“Chloe isn’t fat!” Clark shouted at the quarterback’s retreating back as he stormed off. 

His heart thudded with dread.  Surely she hadn’t gone after the jocks?  He glanced at the cheerleaders again, noticing for the first time that they were all wearing a hard scowl; which meant they were either not too pleased at what they were reading, or they couldn’t actually read.  Curiously he bent to pick up the scrunched up paper and smoothed it out as best he could, and began to read.

His eyes widened in horror as he read her headlining article.  No wonder they were so miffed.  As soon as he was done he dropped the paper in the nearest trashcan and headed into the building in search of Chloe. 

***

One look at the doorway of the Torch confirmed his suspicions.  The words ‘NOSY BITCH’ had been spray-painted on the door in bright red; not too long ago either, if the still-wet drip-marks were anything to go by. 

“So whaddaya think?” Chloe said gleefully as her blonde head appeared around the edge of the door.  She held up the Torch publication with the bold headline: Athletes? Lead by Example! emblazoned on the front. 

 “What do I think?” he echoed as he stepped into the room and closed the door behind him.  “I think you have a death wish, that’s what I think!  Didn’t I tell you to leave well enough alone?”

“You should know by now that I never do what I’m told, Clark,” she said dismissively.  “And there’s nothing wrong with making a name for myself around here, or with ruffling a few feathers amongst the It-crowd.” 

“Really?” he said incredulously, and read aloud from the article.  “ ‘School buses to the rear are approximately 77 paces from the front of the building; a distance which, say, a quarterback or his team-mate should be able to make with considerable ease.  If they can’t (or won’t) be bothered to take those few extra steps, then I would seriously reconsider their position on the squad, as such individuals would most likely not be willing to go the proverbial extra mile that is required of them.’ ” 

He put the paper down and fixed her with a grave look.  “This isn’t ‘ruffling a few feathers,’ Chloe – it’s waking a sleeping giant.  You really do not want to mess with these guys.  You should do a retraction, or else---” 

“Or else what?” she smirked as she tacked a large poster over the front of the door to cover the spray-painted message.  “They’ll scarecrow me in the fields?  Ooh, I’m soooo scared!” 

“This isn’t a joke, Chloe, I’m serious!” he insisted.  “These guys are bad news!” 

“Oh, stop making such a fuss,” she said as she picked up her backpack and slung it into her shoulder.  “I told you, I can handle it.  Now let’s bounce before we’re late for History.” 

He sighed and followed her into the hall, and as they did he noticed both smiles and sneers coming her way.  Naturally, the sneers were all from the cheerleaders and football players, but regular students gave her a smile and a nod as they walked past. 

“See, Clark?” she whispered with a smile.  “Some battles are worth fighting.” 

“Even when you’re David against Goliath?” he asked, and she nodded with a twinkle in her eye. 

“Especially then.” 

*** 

Her statement turned out to be true.  Before the end of the day, Principal Kwan had announced that all front coaches be assigned to the middle-schoolers, whilst the high school students and athletes were to take the coaches to the rear of the building. 

“Victory!” she said gleefully.  “I was hoping the article would make an impact, but I can’t believe how fast it was.” 

“Okay, I admit it – I was wrong to doubt you,” he said grudgingly.  “You’ve made a lot of people happy today, Chloe.” 

“Yep – yourself included,” she said with a wink. 

He frowned.  “Me?”

“I talked to Lana earlier today; told her you like her.” 

Clark stopped dead in his tracks.  “You didn’t,” he breathed. 

“I did.  Turns out she’s quite a nice girl…for a cheerleader.” 

“What did you go and do that for?” he bellowed, startling her.  “I specifically told you not to do anything!” 

“And I told you, I can’t sit by and do nothing you mope around all day!” she retorted.  “You’ll be happy to know that she kinda likes you too, quarterback notwithstanding, and she’s willing to acknowledge you from now on.  You can thank me later, doofus.” 

“I’m not gonna thank you at---Lana,” he breathed, sounding fearful. 

“Oh, there she is,” Chloe said as the girl approached, pausing to speak to a fellow cheerleader.  “Now, be nice; I’ve put in a good word for you already, okay?” 

Clark didn’t answer, and she shrugged. 

“Whatever, dude.  Oh, hey Lana,” she said brightly as the smiling Lana appeared in front of her.  “What’s up?  We were just talking about you.” 

“I just wanted thank you for the articles, they were really interesting,” she replied, tucking a wisp of hair behind her ear.  “I’m more than happy to ride the rear coaches, and I’m sure the guys on the team will get used to it eventually.  But you were about to say something?” 

“Oh yes,” she said gesturing and glancing behind her.  “I was saying that Clark and I were---” she broke off, suddenly realising that she was speaking to empty space.  “Clark?  He was just here, I swear…”

“Yeah, he took off,” Lana replied.  “I think he got on a bus.  Listen, I have to go, I just wanted to say thank you in person.” 

“You’re welcome, come by anytime!” she said as Lana trotted off and climbed into the second to last bus.  Only when the vehicle trundled off did she realise that there was only one school bus left to take home…and it was full of the very people she’d banished to the end of the line. 

“Oh, Clark,” she muttered as she walked past steely-glared individuals, cautiously climbed in and took a seat.  “Where are you when I need you?” 

***

Clark hid behind the building and peeped out into the main courtyard.  Chloe and Lana were still there, chatting away like new best friends.  

He leaned back against the wall and sighed.  Chloe meant well in trying to set him up with Lana, obviously, but she had no idea that when he’d told her he couldn’t get near her, he’d actually meant it literally.  There was something about Lana that was, to put it bluntly, quite repellent.  Anytime he got within three feet of her, he felt shivery and sick, and he didn’t think it was nerves or butterflies.  This was something else, something he seemed to be allergic to.  Either that, or it was just Nature’s way of telling him that he and Lana were not meant to be in close proximity. 

A sudden silence made him frown.  He looked out from behind the building and saw that all the school buses had departed and the school yard was pretty much deserted, save for a forgotten football. 

He got to his feet and went to pick it up, staring at hit for several seconds before heading for the football pitch.  He’d always wanted to play football, but his father had expressly forbidden it.   

“It wouldn’t be fair on the other children, son, what with your special gifts and all,” he’d said sternly. 

“But I wouldn’t use them, I promise,” he begged.  “You can trust me, Dad, I’ll be careful.  Please let me play.”

“Clark, I trust you; I do,” he said, giving his shoulder a squeeze.  “But what about the other kids?  If they clocked you at full speed, they could end up breaking more than a few bones.” 

“If that happened, I’d adjust; I’d let myself fall over,” he suggested, but his father shook his head. 

“I can’t take that risk.  Sorry, son, but my decision is final.” 

Clark stared at the goalposts wistfully.  With a quick glance around to make sure no-one was looking, he hurled the ball from one end of the pitch to the other using just a fraction of the strength he knew he possessed. 

The ball sailed through the air and whistled between the posts before dipping, and Clark whooshed over and caught it just before it hit the ground.  He did this several times, wishing with each throw that he could tell at least one of his friends about his extraordinary abilities.  But unfortunately, that was forbidden, too. 

With a sad sigh, he slung his backpack over his shoulder and zoomed off in the direction of home. 

*** 

The world was a blur of colour as he sped along, and he was almost home when he whooshed past her. 

Chloe.  She was sitting by the side of the road beside a fencepost.  What was she doing there? 

Quickly he doubled back and stopped a safe distance away from where she was, and then walked at a leisurely pace until she turned her head and saw him.  She had her backpack open, and was wiping her hands on a tissue. 

“Chloe?” he said, frowning as he approached.  “What are you d---? Oh, my God!” he exclaimed as he got a good look at her.  “You look terrible!” 

“Gee, thanks,” she drawled, wiping ketchup and some other unidentifiable gloop from her hair.

He shook his head.  “I’m sorry, that came out wrong.  You look…”

“Like I had a fight with a dumpster and lost?” she suggested, and shrugged.  “Huh; I guess you could call the jocks & cheerleaders trash, so you’re not too far from the truth.”

“They did this to you?” he seethed, and clenched his fists.  “Those bastards!”

“Calm down, dear,” she chuckled and patted his arm with her clean hand as he sat beside her.  “It’s not as bad as it looks.”  

“What exactly happened, Chlo?” 

“I had the misfortune of being stuck with the option of the last bus on the turf, or a very long walk home,” she said.  “Looking back, a solo trek would definitely have been cleaner, but I didn’t want to walk away from a challenge.  So I got on the bus.”

“And…?” he pressed. 

“…And found myself surrounded by disgruntled jocks and cheerleaders, who let me know in no uncertain terms that they didn’t appreciate me messing with their transport,” she said.  “They expressed this succinctly by dumping all their leftover lunch on my head.” 

“Oh Chloe, I’m so sorry,” he said, pulling a ketchup-covered onion ring out of her hair.  “Gosh, you’re covered in chocolate milk…” 

“I’ll live,” she said stoically, then experimentally sniffed her sleeve.  “Yikes.  I also reek.” 

“The Farm’s not too far from here; you can come clean up at my place,” he offered.  “I’ll give you one of my t-shirts to wear while yours get cleaned.” 

Chloe grinned through the chocolate streaks on her face and packed up her belongings.  “I accept,” she said.  “And this time, I get to test your Open Door theory.” 

Clark got to his feet and held out a hand to help her up, which she automatically took – with her sticky hand. 

“Oh darn!” she exclaimed.  “I’m sorry.  You want a tissue for that?  I think I have one left in my bag---”

“It’s fine,” he assured her. 

“But there’s no point in both of us getting dirty,” she argued, to which he simply smiled and wrapped an arm around her squelchy shoulder. 

“I don’t mind,” he said as they walked towards Hickory Lane.  “Besides…” his grin widened and he gave her a quick wink.  “Getting dirty with you sounds like fun.” 

***

To be continued…