Poetry in Motion
            by Nymph Du Pave

            Chapter Six: The Day

            "I'm still not done.  I can't seem to grasp the ending here."

            "You're kidding?"

            "No.  When did you finish yours?"

            "Like, five minutes after I started."

            "Oh, God, Pete.  Tell me you're joking."

            "Nope."

            Chloe rolled her eyes at Clark.  "That's it.  I'm officially out of this poetry thing."

            Clark mockingly rolled his eyes back at his short, blonde friend. "You've been saying that ever since I told you I signed you up for this."

            "Those exact words, as a matter of fact," Pete chimed in.  "'That's it!  I'm officially out-"

            Chloe ignored him and looked up at Clark.  "And by the way, I never did thank you for doing such a noble and selfless thing, Mr. Kent."

            "Uh-oh," muttered Pete.  He grinned up at Clark and Clark instantly realized that his poor friend had been listening to Chloe rant since he informed them of their unwitting obligation.

            "I mean it wasn't enough that you sign Lex up without asking.  You, the ever-thoughtful farmboy, had to make sure your billionaire buddy isn't alone in his public debasing.  So you bring along two more of your friends, ex-friends depending on how embarrassing this is for us, for the humiliation round of your twisted little mind game."

            Clark laughed.  The thought of him being able to pull a mind game over Chloe Sullivan, or even Lex for that matter, was humorous to say the least.  She almost hadn't agreed to come.  The only reason she had was his shameless use of 'the Clark Kent Basset Hound eyes'.  It seemed to have an amazing effect on Chloe and his mother.  He'd even been thinking about trying it out on Lex, but the boy never gave him the opportunity.  He always either went along with anything Clark wanted to do, or came up with an even better idea.

            Chloe pulled out a chair at a small, felt-covered table near the stage.  "You have a sick, morbid, not to mention sadistic soul inside that innocent farmboy demeanor, Kent.  I still can't believe you didn't ask.  I mean two days warning to work on this?"

            Pete dropped into a seat on the other side of the table, his back facing the stage.  "Yeah, well.  Anything for Lana Lang, right?"

            Clark had been waiting for this but hoping it wouldn't come.  He gave Pete a little half-smile and dropped his eyes, blushing.  He hated lying to Pete, hated not letting his best-friend-since-forever know that he was no longer interested in what seemed like a life-long crush.  It was just that he was sure Pete would never understand.  Pete, the man of a million dates and the ever varying female interest.  There was no stopping Pete's flow of testosterone, and Clark had no intention of doing so.  He just wished he could be more confident that 'best friends forever, no matter what' actually meant 'no matter what'.

            Clark felt Chloe's gaze on his down-turned face and knew what she was thinking, the message she was trying to telepathically send him.  Something along the lines of 'you can't keep lying to him; you'll have to tell him eventually; the sooner the better'.  He knew all that.  He just didn't feel it in his bones.  Not yet.  But he'd tell Pete.  Eventually.

            "What?" Pete asked, looking first to Chloe then to Clark.  "Am I missing something here?"

            Chloe smiled and looked at Pete as if he were missing half a brain.  "Like what?  Other than the cappuccinos.  Clark, didn't you say we got free drinks and eats for being in this thing?"

            Pete rubbed his hands together.  "That's what I'm talkin' 'bout!"

            Clark threw Chloe a gracious 'I owe you' look for covering for him, then turned to Pete, clearing his throat.  "You know, Pete, there's a limit on the amount of freebees."

            "So?  A freebee's a freebee."

            "Yeah, Clark," Chloe threw in.  "What are you?  Crazy?  This is America.  The free meal, free drink, free car, free candy…  It's all part of us as Americans, as country-men.  We expect to be given things like free samples, or low-cost extras.  The illusory bargain.  The free twenty dollar heart-monitor that comes with the three-thousand dollar treadmill.  That little piece of plastic and silicon makes it money well spent, instead of that person buying just the monitor and running outdoors.  A free crappy movie that did well in theatres but sucked deformed cow milk comes with the DVD player that you just bought."

            Pete made a face.  "Tell me about it.  'Batman and Robin'.  Argh."

            Clark smiled.  "One-thousand free hours from AOL that you couldn't possibly use in the time they give you.  Not if you wanted to eat and sleep, anyway."

            Chloe nodded.  "It's what we're all about.  That's all we want.  We're a country of moochers."

            "Well," said a silken voice from behind Clark.  "That seems a little cynical."

            +_+_+_+_+

            Clark was so handsome sitting there in his red sweater and loose blue jeans.  Lex knew he wasn't mistaken when he noted enthusiasm and friendly content in Clark's eyes.  It had taken awhile, but he'd finally convinced himself that Clark was genuinely happy to see him most, if not all, of the time.

            "And you're complaining?"

            Lex smiled at the perky, school reporter.  "Not at all, Miss Sullivan.  May I?"  Chloe and Clark nodded.  Pete sniffed and looked away, finding the ferns at the back of the Talon more interesting.

            Lex sighed.  It was going to take a lot to win over Peter Ross, but he intended to eventually take hold.  He pulled the fourth chair out, sitting between Clark and Chloe, putting him directly in front of Pete.  He looked to Chloe.  "You've misconstrued my comment.  As a matter of fact, I find intellectual cynicism a rare and fascinating occurrence in one so young."

            Pete muttered something unintelligible and stood.  "I'll see about our free drinks."

            Chloe continued the conversation as if she hadn't heard Pete.  "I refuse to believe you were Mr. Optimistic at my age."

            "Anything but.  And I'm not saying you're anything like I was at your age.  You're far less jaded, far less infuriated.  You have your rage but your rage is one for the article.  The truth."

            "Truth, justice and the American way?"

            "Weren't you just speaking of the yank fashion?" he asked,  Deciding to covet her sarcastic tone instead of brushing it aside.  "Freebees and justice for all?"

            She grinned and Lex marked a score one for himself.  "Possibly."

            "Truth seems to be what motivates you.  I admire your strength and perseverance greatly, Miss Sullivan."

            Her left eyebrow quirked up.  "Really?"

            "Yes."

            She looked pointedly towards an oblivious Clark- watching Pete with a worried expression- then back to him.  "The truth about everything?"

            His gut stirred.  There were things he doubted about Clark, yes, of course.  He knew he'd hit the boy.  He'd unfortunately been in enough automobile accidents to know the feel of a human body crunching into metal.  But for someone else to share his doubts about the boy's normalcy, much less one of Kent's other best friends-

            She grinned.  "The truth about your unparalleled interest in a certain homestead commodity.  Member of the elite ultra-rural kibbutz?"

            Lex flushed and wished he had some sort of drink to hide it and clear his suddenly parched throat.  So that was the 'truth' she had been talking about.  He didn't have to wonder how she knew.  One too many heated glances- and many of them directed at more than just his face- gave way to the emotions inside.

            I might as well have worn an 'I Love Clark Kent' shirt in front of her.

            There was no use denying it and since Clark seemed to be paying attention to Pete's quest for free food,  Lex breathed in and out, sitting back comfortably.  "Chloe-vision sees all then."

            She looked surprised to hear his admission, but had the grace to rid the expression off her face seconds later.  "I'd hoped so."

            He couldn't for the life of him gather just what she meant by that.  Given a few minutes, he might have figured it out, but it was time he didn't have.

            "Hello, everyone!"  Lana spoke loudly from on the stage, mere feet from him.  "And welcome to the tenth weekly Poetry night at the Talon!"
 
 
 
 
 
 

            TO BE CONTINUED...