Hi guys!
Thanks for all the wonderful support you gave me when I posted the first chapter of this story! I especially want to thank Missy G and Catherine Bruce. Catherine, in addition to sharing wonderful anecdotes about sexy teachers, shared with me her extremely helpful opinions and comments.
And Missy, my beta reader (*excited about having one*) totally saved me. She picked up on all my little mistakes and gave me some great comments and help for the rest of the story. Here's part two! I'm going out of town next Thursday for a week, so I'll probably try and post one more chapter before then. Hope you guys like part two!
Just joining?
Part 1 ______________
Clark let himself into his small apartment, simultaneously flipping on the light switch and depositing his briefcase on the floor. He let out a breath as he looked around at his empty home and shuffled into the kitchen to make himself dinner. He didn’t super speed through it today—he really had nothing better to do. Twenty minutes later, Clark sat down at his spacious kitchen table and quietly speared a piece of asparagus as he graded papers. He was glad that Kaitlin had decided to join the Ready Writing team. And if the way her heartbeat had sped up when he mentioned Garrett’s name, then the more power to her. He’d invite Garrett to join too. In fact… he could orchestrate some meetings… Be late a few times…
As Clark’s musings shifted farther, he reeled himself in. God, he was a wreck. He was actually planning to play matchmaker for a couple of 17-year-old kids. These were not the signs of a healthy man. But things had been hard. The kids he taught were his lifeline. They kept him sane, all the while steadily driving him insane. It was a knife sharp line and he thrived on it. Besides, he earned a steady income and got summers off. What more could he want in his life?
His subconscious answered that one quickly. Anything but that. There he was, thinking about her again after he had promised himself he would stop. Clark grabbed onto the couch. Not again. He couldn’t deal with any more tears. Why couldn’t he stop? He was a grown man, not some child.
He would take a shower. Let the hot water scald away all the painful memories. Clark moved silently to his bathroom, stripping as he went. He shoved the water temperature all the way to hot and stepped in, not waiting for the cold water to turn blistering.
His shower. Not hers. Not theirs. His apartment. Not theirs. Oh God. It had been theirs. They had had their life together. They had made the deepest commitment to each other. They had returned to this very apartment. He had carried her over the threshold and made passionate love to her for hours. Tears blistered in his eyes and he squeezed them shut, willing the memories to leave him. His wife. His eyes shot open as he threw his left hand in front of his face. There. His ring. He still remembered her slipping it on his finger and the way her small hand had felt in his.
The way she had giggled when he playfully threw her down on the bed. How she had forbidden him to get dressed. The beautiful year they had together. He rested his head against the cool tile behind him and let the memories wash over and soothe his body and soul. The notes she used to leave for him, all over the apartment, in the most unlikely of places. The way they used to be able to finish each others sentences. The day she had suddenly clutched her chest and dropped to the floor.
And not even super speed had managed to save her.
Sudden Cardiac Arrest it was called. He couldn’t have known, the doctor had said. It wasn’t his fault. There were hardly any warning signs. The survival rate was less than five percent. Platitudes. Illogical, unreasonable platitudes meant to soften blows he deserved. He who could *hear* heartbeats should have been able to save her. He who had promised to love and cherish his wife for as long as they both lived had failed her when she needed him most.
His perfect, wonderful life. Shattered. He had let loose a barrage and he welcomed it, letting the terrible memories overwhelm him as he slumped to the floor of the shower, sobbing.
_________________
“Lucy, are you *sure* this is what the high school kids are wearing these days?” Lois held up the leopard print blouse and short leather skirt. “I feel like a hooker.”
“Lois, come on. Would I steer you wrong?” At Lois’ pointed look, Lucy relented. “Okay, so sue me, that’s not *exactly* what kids are wearing.”
Relieved, Lois threw down the outfit in disgust. “Lucy, why do you even own that?”
“Hey! I said not all the kids are wearing it. The dorks aren’t, but the cool kids are.”
“Don’t call them that.”
“Oh Miss High and Mighty, I forgot. You were the founding member of the chess team.”
“You are so full of it.”
“And you are such a prissy brat.”
Lois and Lucy glared at each other amidst the wreck of Lucy’s closet.
“I don’t *have* to help you. I’m doing you a favor!” Lucy shouted at her sister. “Put this on and don’t complain.” Lucy shoved a red shirt from Hollister and some Abercrombie jeans at Lois.
“I’ll take the shirt, but I have some jeans from the Gap already,” Lois said, examining the tiny pair of jeans.
“Oh no you don’t. I’ve seen those jeans. They’re fully intact. You will wear those Abercrombie jeans and you will like it, Lois!”
“What do you mean they’re fully intact? You think I’d want jeans like this?” Lois roughly shook the ripped, battered and paint splattered Abercrombie jeans at Lucy. “What did you do, get chased by a pit-bull in a paint factory?”
Rolling her eyes, Lucy continued to dig through her closet, throwing articles of clothing at her sister. “You are so clueless. I bought them like that. It’s the in thing. God, you’d think you were thirty, not twenty three for all you know.”
“You say thirty like it’s a bad thing.”
Lois struggled to pick up the mountain of tops and skirts and pants Lucy had sent her way. “You honestly think I’ll need all of this? I do have my own clothes.”
Lucy gave her sister a slow once over. “If you’re going to fit in at this school, you’d better. I can’t believe you’re doing this, by the way, you know you’re doomed to fail. Do you think you’re just going to be able to waltz into high school and have Lexy and Jill spill their secrets to you?”
Lois shrugged. “I’m a good listener.”
“Well hate to break it to ya, Sis, but I think you’re sorely under experienced for this sort of thing. High school is no child’s play.”
“Lucy I was in high school six years ago, I remember it just fine. I was the Student Council President,” Lois said smugly. She had ruled high school. Lucy was worrying over nothing.
“Ut-uh. The only thing that matters at Metropolis High is Jill and Lexy. Cheerleading captain? No sway. Student Council President? Nothing. Football captain? A little.”
“Why does he get a little sway and the cheerleaders don’t?” Lois asked indignantly.
Lucy grinned at her slightly clueless older sister. “He and Lexy sometimes…” She twisted her fingers together and Lois got the message. “Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“Let me see your schedule. I can tell you about some of these teachers.”
Lois handed over her schedule and leaned over to read over Lucy’s shoulder.
“Brown? Good. Kingsley? Blech. Garza? So-so. Redwick. Evil. West? Okay. Kent…” Lucy trailed off as she started squealing. “You have Mr. Kent for English Lit! Oh you lucky dog.”
“Huh? Why?” Lois grabbed her schedule and reread it. “‘C. Kent, English Lit. Room 203.’ What’s the big deal?”
“What’s the big deal? Lois! Mr. Kent is gorgeous! Every single girl in the school would kill for your schedule! Oh God, I would kill for your schedule.”
Lois rolled her eyes. Great. Sixth period lit would be a blast. She’d have to deal with moony eyed senior girls.
“So he’s good looking. Wonderful. Anything else to enlighten me?”
“Lois you do not even understand! This man… every girl at school absolutely loves him to pieces. He’s fair and apparently a really good teacher. At the end of the year he writes every single student in his classes an entire letter full of well wishes for college and anecdotes about the year.”
“So? He probably has three or four written and he mass produces them. Lucy, I appreciate that the man might have some passing good looks, but come on, be serious.”
“I’m not kidding! They’re all completely different. He’s so cute,” Lucy sighed off, looking a little lovelorn. “Oh! There’s a candid picture of him and his wife in my yearbook from last year, let me get it.”
“His wife?” Lois asked in the general vicinity of where she last saw her sister. Lucy was digging through her closet, nearly swimming in messy piles of clothes. “See? The guy’s married. I don’t know what everyone is lusting after.”
Lucy was hastily flipping through her yearbook and only disjointedly heard Lois speak. “Oh, his wife’s dead.”
At Lois’ gasp, Lucy looked up. “What?”
“Jeez, you don’t have to be so cavalier about it! What happened?”
“Sudden Cardiac Arrest. It happened about two years ago, but some of the kids who had Mr. Kent before his wife died are shocked at how much more listless he is now. There he is,” Lucy pointed to a picture and Lois moved over to get her first look at the mysterious Mr. Kent.
“Sudden Cardiac Arrest, really? So young?” Lois was musing as she craned her neck to see the picture. Her breath caught in her throat slightly. There was a beautiful blonde woman cheering at a Tigers football game. The photographer must have caught a private moment, because the man in the picture was staring at his wife with a huge smile and a slightly adoring gaze. Both were decked out in full Tigers regalia and Lois was startled by how handsome the man was. How terrible for this Mr. Kent, to have lost his wife so suddenly and so young. Kent didn’t look much older than she was, probably 25 or 26, 27 at the most. Lois couldn’t tear her gaze from the contented expression in his eyes as he watched his wife cheer. He couldn’t have known his life was going to turn around so much in such a short time. Lois glanced at the caption.
English Literature teacher Clark Kent and his wife, Lana, cheer for the Tigers at the Oct. 5 football game against Boehm High. Kent has taught at Metropolis High since he graduated from college in 2000. “Metropolis High is my home. It really means a lot to me to be able to impact students in any way,” Kent said. “And the football games are fantastic.”
“That’s terrible,” Lois said softly. “I’m so sorry.”
Lucy had already lost interest, however. “Yeah. It’s a shame. But you are so lucky, girl!”
Lois let Lucy’s familiar chatter wash over her as she continued to stare at the picture, suddenly feeling an ache in her heart for the man she hadn’t even met.
___________________
Lois slammed her locker shut in exasperation. Were the girls this dumb when she was in school? She had already endured three periods of First Day of School Torture. Funny, they should bottle it as a new kind of agony. Nuclear weapons had nothing on the scathing stares some students sent her way. Lois had spent the first half of the day being stared at. It took a great deal of willpower not to revert to the hard shell she chose for times like this. But Lois wasn’t a fool; she knew that when she slipped on that particular armor of sarcasm and contemptuous wit, she lost all approachability.
And despite the fact that she was with some idiots whose worst problem was how to sneak out of the house on Fridays, she needed them to like her. That would be the only way she could infiltrate deeply enough in Jill and Lexy’s gang. Lois looked at the clock and cursed. Two minutes to make it to history. Crap! She was so going to be late.
Lois slid into her seat in Mrs. Redwick’s class just as the bell finished ringing. As the old woman stared at her, Lois stared right back, refusing to be intimidated.
“Miss… Lane, is it?” She began. Lois tensed. This was never good. Throughout the morning none of her teachers had made her do anything too embarrassing. Miss Garza had told her to stand and say her name and where she was from, but that was easy enough. This woman, Mrs. Redwick, looked like she ate kids for lunch.
“Miss Lane, please stand and tell us about yourself and your expectations for this year.”
Inwardly rolling her eyes, Lois gave Mrs. Redwick her most polite smile—one anyone close to her would instantly recognize as totally fake—and stood to face her bored classmates.
All while she was talking, Lois kept her eye on Jill Reynolds. Lois had lucked out. Both Lexy and Jill were in her first period, and then Jill was in both third and fourth as well. She planned to spend the next few days evaluating them and how the other students acted around them. So far as she could tell, they acted like typical popular high school girls. She noticed them insulting a few girls behind their backs, they ate lunch with a table full of beefy looking football players and the rest of the time they giggled and passed notes. Lois didn’t get it. How had evolution failed them so? It was all so stereotypical.
Finally, after answering one rapid fire question after the other, Mrs. Redwick was satisfied. As Lois took her seat, a girl who looked vaguely familiar gave her a hesitant smile.
“Hi, I’m Dana Grisham,” she whispered.
“Lois Lane,” Lois gave her a tentative smile as well.
“I know, I heard the spiel in first period too.” Lois laughed slightly and straightened when Mrs. Redwick turned from the board to glare at her class. When the teacher turned back toward the lesson, Lois leaned toward Dana again.
“Those girls seem pretty popular,” she gestured to Jill and a few of her friends with a nod, playing dumb to their names. Dana’s smile turned wistful.
“Yeah. They are. Truly the top of the food chain here, if you know what I mean. That’s Jill Reynolds,” Dana pointed to the girl with sun streaked blond hair. “And there’s Nicole Fisher and Kylie Robinson. They’re all pretty popular in their own right, but Jill is really their ‘leader’ if you know what I mean.”
Lois nodded and Dana continued.
“I’d really like to be their friend. They have this group that they call the ‘Rosettes.’ If you get in, you’re automatically like… a legend.” Lois could feel the palpable waves of desire radiating off Dana. “You go to all these parties and you pretty much get your pick of any guy at school. It’s so awesome.”
‘Pay dirt,’ Lois thought gleefully. This was easier than she had anticipated. She shot another glance at Mrs. Redwick and then turned back to Dana. “Wow,” she said softly, trying to inflect a proper amount of awe in her voice. “That’s awesome. Do you think we could join?”
“Yeah right. Maybe, *maybe* if you could get either Jill or Lexy to like you a little they might put up your name for consideration. But even then, that’s just to propose you for their initiations. It’s a rough game.”
“But you still want to try it?” Lois asked softly. Dana’s hazel eyes darkened with anticipation and she nodded fiercely.
“I’d give anything to be one of them.”
Uneasy, Lois shifted back to her seat. Poor Dana, so intent on becoming popular she was missing the rest of high school. As Lois ignored Redwick’s lecture, she contemplated what she had learned so far. So the “Rosettes” were the big bad gang she had heard so much about. She needed to find someway to meet up with Lexy or Jill. And some way to get through three more months of school.
An hour and a half later, it was time for the infamous Mr. Kent’s class. Lois grabbed the Lit book she had picked up from the front office and headed down to room 203. She waved as she saw Dana in the hall and grinned in genuine pleasure when she realized the girl was headed toward the same class she was.
“Hi Lois! You’re in Mr. Kent’s class too?” Dana said as she caught up with Lois in the hall.
“Yeah,” Lois grinned and lowered her voice. “So I hear he’s pretty cute, what do you think?”
Dana’s jaw dropped. “You mean you haven’t seen him?”
“Not in person, no.”
Dana grabbed Lois’ arm and pulled her through the crowd. “Oh girlfriend, you are *so* in for a treat!”
_______________________
Just a note about Lana's death. I know she died young, but I actually know a boy who experienced Sudden Cardiac Arrest and died for a few moments at the age of 17. He was revived by a defibrillator, but it was a terrifying event for the whole town and the fact that he survived was hailed as a miracle.
Thanks for hanging with me.
Please let me know what you think.
--Laura
