Thanks as always to Carol for the help and encouragement!
From Chapter 2
“Hi, Paul. This is Clark Kent. You left me a message earlier,” I said, wiping my sweaty hand on my jeans.
“Right, Clark. You were one of the freshmen who submitted writing pieces,” Paul said. “I read it. It was good. Really much better than we usually see from freshmen.”
I wasn't sure what to say. Did this mean I had a spot on the staff? “Thank you,” I managed to say quietly.
“Unfortunately, it's still not up to the caliber we expect for a staff reporter,” Paul continued and I felt my heart sink. “But I want to encourage you to keep trying. Maybe submit a piece again next year.”
“Thanks, Paul,” I said trying to hide my disappointment. It was silly. I had known my chances were slim. So why was I so disappointed?
“No problem, Clark. See you around,” he said before he hung up the phone.
I placed the phone back down and then sat back on my bed. I didn't get it. I hadn't really expected to land a spot and still… I had sort of hoped. I wondered if Lois got a spot. Not that I wanted to know right now. I thought I might just be disappointed if I found out.
Chapter 3
I looked around me one more time. I wasn't sure why, but I was much more nervous taking off from Met U than I'd ever been taking off before. I guess it was just different. At home I had acres of farm to hide in, and when I traveled for rescues, not only did I look for places where I would be alone, but I was amid a bunch of strangers that were likely to think they had imagined it if they saw a boy flying.
Here, though, I was starting to make friends. Not a lot yet, perhaps, but certainly people were getting to know me. Even if I blended in elsewhere, I didn't in my Journalism for Beginners class. I would have liked to have faded into the background there, just absorb what I could of Professor Matthews' knowledge. I mean journalism was about writing, it wasn't about being loud, was it?
Unless, of course, you were Lois Lane. How I managed to get into arguments with her in nearly every lecture, I have no idea. I didn't think I was that argumentative. But it always seemed that if I dared say anything, Lois felt the need to argue with it. To be fair, it wasn't just me. She argued with nearly everyone. It was just that I was the only one stupid enough to rise to her bait, and argue back.
Anyway, this meant there was no question that the other students in that class knew who I was. Even if they just thought of me as the idiot who argued with Lois, they still had a label for me. And if they happened to see that idiot flying over campus, they'd probably notice.
I took one more glance, but no one else was around. It wasn't that surprising. It hadn't taken me more than a week to discover that the math building was pretty quiet after about ten. I guess the math students were all snug in their beds that early? Or maybe they were secret party animals and all at one of the frat houses? I wasn't sure. But it was a convenient fact to have learned so early.
Okay, one more glance. Really, no one was around, so I took off. Still, despite all that, I breathed a sigh of relief when no one shouted as I took to the sky. Maybe I needed to start going off campus to do this. There were probably lots of alleys in Metropolis, but to be honest, I hadn't yet explored the city on the ground so much. Just taken in what I could from the air.
With a sigh of relief, I turned so I was heading east. The report had been of a school shooting in Lyon. I guessed I could thank my roommate for this one. If he went to sleep at a reasonable time, I would have missed it. But he stayed up late, and for some reason tonight when he had come back into our room at two, he had turned the radio on. Like I was invisible or something. I liked Steve, but I wasn't sure he was the best roommate ever.
Anyway, I had only caught a snippet of the report before Steve changed the channel to a rock station, but I had used the radio as my cover for getting up and going to the bathroom. I didn't think I needed much more than that. Steve would be asleep by the time I would get back normally anyway.
To be honest, I wasn't 100% sure where Lyon was – someplace in France south of Paris, I thought. Maybe a bit west as well? Or was it east? This was definitely one of the things I wanted to get better at. My geography was much better now than it had been before I started doing the Boy in Black thing, but I still felt like I had a lot to learn. The only place I could get to in France easily was Paris and it was like that in many countries – I knew where the major cities were, but not much else.
I didn't take me long to cross over the Atlantic – I always went faster in the dark. There was something eerie about crossing the ocean late at night – miles and miles of dark nothingness. During the day it was a much nicer journey. Sometimes, if I traveled north enough, I could see whales breaching or dolphins or porpoises playing.
For a moment, I had an image, a vivid image, of flying over the Atlantic to see one of these scenes with Lois in my arms. I bet she'd love it. Then I realized what I was doing. Was I crazy? Did I really think Lois Lane could stay still long enough to go for a flight over the Atlantic? Even with me, where the whole thing took less than a couple of minutes unless I hovered to watch something, I couldn't see her staying still that long.
As I got closer to France, I started listening. Usually this was how I found the places I needed to go. I had gotten good at tuning out the unimportant sounds and listening for what I wanted to hear. In this case, it was the sound of crying adults. Maybe some crying teenagers as well.
It only took me a moment to hear them and when I looked down, I could see the crowd gathered around the school. This had to be it. I looked closely and could see that no one was in the back of the building, so I landed there. Then I just stood there for a moment, listening to the talk on the other side. Had the shooter come out yet? Were there more students inside?
No, the shooter was still in there, and it sounded like he had a classroom of students and one teacher hostage. Without waiting to hear where he might be, I slipped inside the building. The fire alarms were all going off, making the inside loud. So much for using my super-hearing.
Instead, I used the vision gizmo thing – I had never figured out what to call it, but it was sort of like x-ray vision. I found the shooter in a classroom on the third floor. There were police and firemen all around the door. How was I going to get in?
Sometimes, and I hated this, the best thing for me to do was to do nothing. Just wait for the authorities to handle it and then help them get people out. This was starting to look like one of those times, unless I was ready to let the French know that there was a boy who was impervious to bullets around. At least, I thought I was. To be honest, no one had ever shot at me, so I wasn't sure. But since nothing else had been able to hurt me yet, I just assumed bullets wouldn't do the job either. Regardless, I wasn't ready to let people know what a freak I was yet.
I flew up the stairs so I wouldn't make any noise and stayed hidden in the stairwell. I tried to block out the sounds of the fire alarms so I could hear what was going on in the classroom, but it was no use. It was way too loud.
I have to admit, what happened next surprised even me. I had been watching the door to the classroom from the stairwell using my vision gizmo, when I saw one of the policemen ram it open. From the rescues I had seen before, this seemed like a bad idea to me, but I wasn't going to go out there and say anything. Who would listen to an eighteen year old boy anyway?
Unfortunately, I was right. The shooter turned towards the sound and without thought, fired off a shot. The students in the classroom were all huddled behind desks, some of the bigger students sheltering the girls. The policeman fell to the ground. A fast check with my vision showed him to be wearing a bullet-proof vest, but at that close range, the shot would have still been plenty painful.
A series of shots were exchanged – I counted seven in total – before it was all over. I guess the good news was that only one of those shots hit a student. I snuck in after the police and tried to blend in with the other students, checking out the girl who had fallen.
Her blond hair fell over her eyes, and I pushed it aside gently as I listened for a heartbeat. It was faint, but there.
“Who are you?” a voice asked harshly in French.
I looked up, suddenly thankful for the Berlitz lessons my parents had suggested after I started doing this. Combined with a facility for languages, I was passable in most major languages and close enough to fluent in French to pass when I was only having a short conversation.
“I was just…” I floundered, not sure what to say. I had been about to say I had been passing by, but that was insane. They had clearly evacuated the other students, so passing by from where? Then an idea came to me. “I didn't leave with the alarms. I was in the bathroom when they went off. I was waiting outside.”
The girl nodded at me as she took me in. She stilled seemed a bit suspicious, but didn't press things further. “Is she going to be okay?” she asked me.
I shrugged. Without the benefit of my super-hearing, I had done nothing that would make it seem like I had any knowledge. “I don't know, but I feel a pulse,” I said, lifting up the arm in my hand.
Tears filled the girl's eyes as she sat down. “She's my best friend. I bet her parents are outside.”
“Yours probably are, too,” the teacher said as she approached us. She was young, maybe in her late twenties and, despite her calm words, I could hear her heart beating wildly. I wondered how she did it, how she stayed so strong for her students.
I looked up and realized that most of the students had been evacuated now. Really, there was little I could do. I didn't want to move the girl for fear of hurting her more.
This was the most frustrating thing about not using my powers. I could have prevented her from getting hurt. I could have burst in here and… I'm not sure what, but done something to the gun long before shots were fired.
With a sigh, I got up and followed the injured girl's friend outside.
************************
“I'm not sure,” I told my parents over a stack of pancakes and a glass of buttermilk.
“Going public with your abilities is a tricky thing,” Dad pointed out. I wanted to smile at his choice of words. He had never been comfortable with the help I provided, always worried I would get caught. But the only thing he said anymore was that he was proud of me. This was the closest he would come to asking me to stop – to ask me to consider if I was really ready to go further.
“I know,” I said. “And I'm not sure I'm ready.”
“You're still so young,” Mom said, a hand on mine. “Maybe you should at least let yourself get settled at school before you add a whole new level to the Boy in Black.”
I nodded. I agreed with what they were saying. They were right, I knew they were. I wasn't ready to go public with all I could do. Still… “That girl, though. And the man last week – his kids are orphans now and if I…”
“Clark,” Mom cut in, “the world and all its problems do not rest on your shoulders. What you're doing now, it's enough. It's more than enough.”
“Thanks,” I said quietly as I finished my pancakes, although I wasn't sure I believed her.
“So,” Dad said, eager to change the conversation, I'm sure, before I changed my mind. “What's the word on joining the paper?”
“Oh,” I said as I sat my glass down. The phone call with Paul which was just the night before, seemed like a lifetime ago. I had called the farm to let them know, but apparently one of the horses had gotten free, so they hadn't been home. “I didn't get it.”
“You didn't?” I smiled at how surprised Mom was.
“I told you no freshman has ever made it before,” I reminded her.
“Well, I know. But… well, you're good, Clark. I thought you might be the first.”
“You should meet Lois,” I told her with a chuckle.
“Who's Lois?” my dad asked with a twinkle in his eye.
“Stop getting ideas, Dad. She's just a girl. But one who is probably the first freshman to get on the paper.”
“Really?” Mom asked. “She's that good?”
I shrugged. “I don't know. I've never seen anything she's written. But she certainly seems to think she is.”
“So she thinks she is or she is?” Dad asked. “Did she get a spot?”
“I don't know,” I told them. “I haven't asked her.”
“Are you okay?” Mom asked me.
I nodded. “Disappointed, I guess. But I knew it was a long shot anyway. I just hoped that maybe… But anyway, yeah, I'm okay. The editor said my piece was good and he encouraged me to submit again next year.”
“That's great!” Dad said, smiling at me broadly.
“Maybe he says that to everyone,” I said quietly.
“Maybe,” Mom replied. “And maybe he only says it to the very best. Like you.”
“You have too much confidence in me, Mom,” I smiled. She was delusional about my abilities, but I had to admit that it felt nice to know that they thought I could do this.
“Well, I don't think so, but even if I do, it's my job as your mother.” She glanced at the clock. “It's also my job to remind you that you're running late for your poli sci class.”
I glanced at the clock, realizing she was right. “Sorry. Thanks, Mom,” I said as I got up and washed the plates and glasses at super speed. I slowed down to give my parents each a fast hug before taking off back towards Metropolis.
************************
“Lois?” I asked cautiously, not wanting to startle her.
She didn't answer for a second, and when she did, she looked annoyed. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to pick up a copy of my submission,” I told her. “Paul said he had provided some comments for me on how to improve.”
“Did you get in?” she asked and her eyes were challenging behind her tears.
“No,” I said as I took a seat on the ground beside her. “I'm guessing you didn't either.”
“How did you know?” she asked annoyed.
I reached out to brush a tear from her cheek. “Call it a lucky guess.”
She sniffled and then giggled a little. “Yeah, I guess it's a little obvious, isn't it?”
“You knew the chances weren't great,” I said gently. “It doesn't mean you're not a fantastic writer.”
“Of course, it doesn't!” she said angrily and I fought the urge to laugh. Maybe the arrogance-self-conscious thing wasn't as much of a contradiction as I thought. Maybe Lois wasn't arrogant at all, just really scared of failure. For a moment, I wondered why she would be that afraid of failing at something so trivial, but then pushed the thought aside. It wasn't important right now.
“Can I see your submission?” I asked her.
She thrust it at me, holding her hand out for mine and after a brief hesitation, I gave it to her.
For a few moments, we sat next to each other in silence, each reading the other's work. Lois had written an article on inefficiency of the cafeteria's buffet line. I was impressed by her ingenuity. I was even more impressed by her writing. She was good. Good enough that I was more than a little surprised she hadn't gotten onto the paper. Reading her article, I couldn't help but think that I could kiss the Planet internship goodbye.
I finished reading and looked over at her. She was still reading my article, but had the strangest expression on her face. Her jaw was hanging slightly open like she couldn't believe what she was seeing. Was it really that bad? Paul had been so encouraging.
She looked up at me a moment later, but said nothing, although she did close her mouth. She handed my article back to me without a word, grabbed hers out of my hand, stuffed it into her backpack and left, all without a word.
