Sometimes
                a Smallville fanfic 
                  by Serenade 
                  Disclaimer: Not mine. I only wish. 
                  
                  
                Sometimes, Clark misses the bus on purpose. It's not that hard: 
                  all he has to do is linger behind at his locker for another 
                  fifteen minutes, pretending to be looking for that misplaced 
                  English textbook. If he's lucky, he'll catch a glimpse of Lana 
                  when she comes to open her own locker; if he's very lucky, he'll 
                  manage to look away before she sees him, so he won't have to 
                  witness the closed expression settle over her face. The expression 
                  that says, I know, but I can't. Because I don't. Not you. 
                 Clark's not good at looking away. 
                 Lex would tell him that his eyes give him away. Lex would tell 
                  him that he needs to learn to be subtle. Or would he? Lex doesn't 
                  seem to go for subtle himself. Limousine rides and expensive 
                  concerts in Metropolis hardly qualify as low on the radar. Or 
                  maybe they are subtle, on the Lexian scale of things. The man 
                  lives in a frigging castle, after all, and gives away trucks 
                  like Halloween candy. 
                 To Lex, a friend isn't someone you hang out with; a friend 
                  is someone you bend your world around. Since Lex found out that 
                  Clark likes Lana, he has done just about everything short of 
                  desert island shipwreck to get them together, and Clark still 
                  can't be sure the desert island thing isn't on the agenda somewhere 
                  down the line. But Clark already knows deep down that it doesn't 
                  matter if Lex has a million clever plans, because the one thing 
                  you can't buy with money is someone else's heart. 
                 There's a line Clark read in a book once--"You can't make anyone 
                  love you and you can't keep anyone from dying." It's stuck with 
                  him ever since, the impossibility and heartbreak in those dozen 
                  words. 
                 You can't make anyone love you. 
                 And Lana's never going to look at him the way she looks at 
                  Whitney. 
                 Clark knows that if he but asked, Lex would set him up with 
                  any number of attractive, amenable girls. Or even--even the 
                  women, the dark-eyed, slow-smiling women Lex has hanging 
                  off his arm at every function. All of them classy and gorgeous 
                  and smart, and all of them smiling in that slow, secretive way, 
                  as if there is something special they know. 
                 But maybe Lex just has that effect on people. Clark has lost 
                  count of the times he has felt that same slow smile creep onto 
                  his face at Lex's voice or Lex's gaze. Lex has a way of making 
                  you feel like you are the focus of all his attention. When his 
                  eyes fix on your own and that intense expression falls across 
                  his face. The expression that says, Anything I can, I will. 
                  Because. 
                 Lex isn't like anyone else Clark has ever met. 
                 And Lex doesn't believe anything's impossible. 
                 You can't keep anyone from dying. 
                 But isn't that what Clark did, that day at the bridge? When 
                  he pulled Lex from the water, and breathed life back into his 
                  lungs. Maybe, sometimes, you can keep someone from dying, 
                  if you want badly enough to save them. Not all of the time, 
                  but sometimes. And maybe that's all you need, to make a difference 
                  to one person's life. 
                 And maybe, sometimes, you don't have to make somebody love 
                  you. 
                 Because maybe they already do. 
                 Clark slams his locker door shut and walks out into the late 
                  afternoon sunshine. The sky overhead is summer blue; the air 
                  smells of baked asphalt and melting ice cream. Sunlight gleams 
                  from the surface of the silver Porsche as it slides up beside 
                  him with a purr. 
                 "You look like you could use a lift, Clark. Want a ride home?" 
                 Clark smiles at Lex smiling at Clark, pretty certain he looks 
                  like an idiot but not caring anymore. 
                 "Sure." 
                 Sometimes, Clark misses the bus on purpose. 
                 - fin - 
                 Note: The quote Clark is thinking of comes from the Kinsey 
                  Millhone novel H is for Homicide, written by Sue Grafton. 
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