Since it is already 30 November in Australia, HAPPY BIRTHDAY, TRICIA!!!!!!!!!! Hope you have a great day!
Clark's Secret (Happy Birthday, Tricia!)
by Alicia U.
"Mom, don't you and dad have to be up early tomorrow morning?" Clark tried to pull the large photo album out of his mothers' hands.
"Clark, honey, it's only six pm! Even your father and I don't go to bed that early."
"Maybe Lois and I should go . . . um . . . milk the cows?"
"Milk the cows? I am NOT going out to milk any livestock. I didn't come all the way here to . . ."
"Don’t worry, Lois, Jonathan's taking care of it now."
"Maybe we should go, um, investigate . . . something."
"Clark, what else is there for us to find in Smallville? Don't tell me this town has two crazed maniac government agents searching for things to kill Superman!"
"Well, no, but . . ."
"You both need to rest tonight. Lois wanted to see pictures of you when you were younger, and I'm not going to deny our guest."
"Mom! Don't do this to me, please."
"Oh, honey, they aren't that bad. You were so cute." She flipped to the first page of pictures and spread the book across Lois's lap.
"Mom, those aren't my baby pictures. Those are pictures of me in high school."
"Here's his football picture. Wasn't he handsome?"
Lois looked at the younger version of her partner. It felt like his familiar dark brown eyes were fixed only on her. He really was a handsome kid. No, who was she kidding. Clark wasn't handsome. She didn't have a small crush on Clark. Wait, who said that? No, no crush on Clark. He wasn't even slightly pleasing to the eyes.
What could she say about the picture to give him that impression without offending his mother?
"Oh, Clark, look at your hair!"
Clark smiled slightly and rubbed his hair self-consciously. "Hey, it was in a helmet."
Martha flipped the page and exclaimed, "Oh and here's a picture of Clark in his dance recital."
"Dance recital?" Lois's jaw dropped. Clark had danced? No. It wasn't possible.
Martha touched Lois's shoulder happily and said, "He danced for years!"
Too bad his mother was here. She could really have fun with this one. Making a mental note that she needed to use this for future ammunition, she said, "Years? You don't seem the type."
Clark blushed terribly and tried to hide behind his own book. "Yeah, I did ballet in high school."
"You did ballet?"
"For football. Coach thought it would give us better agility."
"He did tap, too, didn't you, honey?"
"And tap was for what, making beautiful music with your feet when you tried to scare the defense?"
"Well, um . . ."
"He had a crush on the teacher. What was her name?"
"I don't remember."
"Tricia, wasn't it? She was about your age, wasn't she, and teaching dance classes as a favor to her teacher?"
"Yes," Clark said, almost under his breath.
"Aw, that's so cute! Clark, you took tap classes just because you had a crush on the teacher!"
"And remember when you met her at the Corn Festival and won her that little teddy bear?"
"MOM!"
"Wait, Clark took *me* to the Corn Festival and won *me* a teddy bear."
The End
