The Chronicles of Smallville: X-Ray
* * * * *
Lana coughed, hard, and blinked her eyes open, feeling her sore throat. She couldn’t see anything but herself in the dark space, whatever it was, and she rolled her head—
“AAAH!” She shoved the skull away, freaked out – then realized as she pushed upward where she was. She was in a coffin! She’d been buried!
She pushed desperately against the heavy stone lid, feeling utterly confined, utterly trapped – she had to get out, had to escape…but it didn’t look like she could at all.
Elsewhere in the cemetery, Clark ran through the night, looking around desperately. There was the gravestone for the Langs, but no Lana—
“Clark,” said a voice he didn’t really care to hear. He turned to see Whitney standing a couple of yards away, shadowed by nearby trees. “What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” Clark said, noting that the jock sounded more surprised than anything else. “Where’s Lana?”
“I dunno,” Whitney said, glancing around as he walked forward. “Nell said she came out here, but I can’t find her.”
But a sudden horrible feeling had overtaken Clark, giving the lie to those words. Within a pocket of the jacket, “Whitney” had stored the meteor rock necklace, which Nell had provided “him” with after a visit to her house, believing the claim that “he” wanted to surprise Lana with it as part of making up with her.
Clark struggled to keep his balance, his stomach roiling – as if he didn’t already have enough to worry about!
“What’s the matter, Clark?” The not-jock didn’t sound or seem concerned, though. “Not feelin’ well?”
Too fast for Clark to dodge, a long metal pipe whipped out from behind the not-jock’s back and crashed over his own, dropping him to the ground with a cry of pain. “There – does that help?” came the scornful yet eerily calm voice.
Clark grimaced, trying to push himself to his feet. “I know it’s you, Tina,” he groaned, his voice weak.
“Tina?” echoed “Whitney” as if in confusion. “Who’s that? Never heard the name before.” “He” swung the pipe down again, knocking Clark back down.
The farm boy didn’t give up, though the blows from the metal only made the agony of the necklace worse. “Where’s Lana?” he groaned, pushing as hard as he could against the ground.
“I am Lana!” the disguised Tina yelled, losing her cool. She smashed the pipe into his chest, and he cried out as he flew high into the air. He crashed down hard, smashing a tombstone to rubble, and groaned as he lay stunned for a moment.
Tina was coming towards him in Whitney’s shape still, and he struggled to get up, weakened. “You don’t have to do this,” he groaned. “I know what it’s like…to live with a secret. I know what happened to your mother.”
“Oh, please,” Tina scoffed, sticking the pipe into the ground and taking off Whitney’s jacket. “That was a lifetime ago. And don’t worry about the old Lana – you’ll be joining her soon.” She tossed the jacket away—
—and as it landed, the meteor rock lost its grip on Clark once again, frustrated in its inanimate desire to slowly destroy him.
“I thought I killed you last night,” Tina continued in Whitney’s voice, picking up the pipe again. “But I won’t make the same mistake twice – I’ll make sure to kill you now.” She swung the pipe down—
—and it crashed onto empty ground. She stared in disbelief, then straightened up—
—and a steely hand clamped onto her broadened shoulder, eliciting a gasp of shock. “You’ve already made the worst mistake ever,” said Clark threateningly, twisting her around to face him, his eyes deadly. “You tried to kill Lana.”
With that, he grabbed the not-jock’s other shoulder and pitched firmly, sending her sailing into the air. She screamed in Whitney’s voice, the pipe falling away – and collided with a tree. She dropped to the base and lay senseless, her disguise melting into her true form.
Clark turned away from her, sucking in a deep breath. “LANA!” he bellowed, terror for her safety filling his voice as it thundered through the cemetery—
—and, as if on cue, his x-ray vision flashed on without being asked. He whipped around, looking quickly and desperately – there! A skeletal form struggled against the lid of a concrete coffin within a nearby tomb, but the struggle was already dying down—
“NO!!!” Clark shot forward at super-speed, smashing right through the metal gate of the tomb and inside. He punched at the lid of the coffin, smashing a big hole in the center, then grabbed the two large pieces that resulted and moved them aside.
Lana lay still in the coffin, and for a terrible moment he feared the worst – but then he heard her moan softly, her air restored. Gently as could be, he gathered her into his arms and carried her out of the tomb, whispering a near-silent thanks heavenward.
She stirred and blinked her eyes open, gasping as her breath returned completely. He knelt on the ground, still holding her effortlessly. “Lana?” he asked softly.
“Clark,” she whispered, her beautiful face showing such quiet joy and relief that he felt it could stop the world. “Thank God for you.”
He smiled, feeling very warm inside, then bent down and kissed her softly. She moaned and slipped her arms around his neck, feeling so wonderfully alive after her brush with death.
Tina herself wasn’t dead – but her shifting ability seemed to have been knocked out for good. She was loaded into an ambulance that drove to Lana’s house along with the police – Deputy Sheriff Ethan Miller, a heavily-mustached man who was an old friend of Jonathan Kent’s, took Clark and Lana’s statements himself. He’d been one of the two men to discover the money in Tina’s locker, and he quietly praised Clark for both the anonymous tip and the timely rescue. Clark took it in good grace – Lana had already given him all the thanks he could ever ask for.
They leaned against the white picket fence and watched as the police spoke with Clark’s parents, whom he’d called over. “Hey!” a voice suddenly said, and they looked to see Chloe in a long gray jacket and red-and-black scarf. “I heard what happened.”
“Did you come to see if I was okay?” Clark asked with a wry smile.
Chloe smiled back. “Actually, as concerned as I always am about your physical well-being, I’m not here to see you.” She turned to Lana, fishing in her pocket – and drew out a small tape labeled “Graduation Address 1977”.
Lana stared in amazement as she accepted it. “Oh, my God,” she whispered. “How did you find this?”
Chloe smiled wryly. “If I told you, I’d have to kill you, and it looks like you’ve had enough trauma for one night.” She glanced around meaningfully.
Lana smiled widely, feeling deeply moved. “Chloe, thank you,” she said, touching her heart.
“No problem,” Chloe said, and Clark had to smile himself at her civility. Maybe more than one relationship had changed lately.
As she walked away, a new arrival appeared – Lex. “I came as soon as I heard,” he said. “Are you two okay?”
“We’re fine, Lex,” Lana assured him. “Clark stopped Tina and got to me just in time.”
Clark looked modest, and Lex smiled knowingly, unsurprised. He glanced into the ambulance and shook his bald head. “So that’s the one who impersonated me and started this whole thing off,” he mused. “Amazing what some people will do.”
“Tell me about it,” Clark sighed. He looked sympathetically at Lana, who leaned against him.
“Still,” Lex said, brightening, “like Lana said, you got there in time.” He smiled at her. “Sometimes, I think we’ve been touched by the hand of God.”
“I know the feeling,” Lana whispered, smiling up at Clark, and he couldn’t help but grin. Lex moved off, figuring it was best to leave the two alone.
Unfortunately, nobody had told Nell that – she came over and all but pulled Lana away from Clark, giving him a cold look. Lana shot her a glare, then looked apologetically towards Clark, who assured her with a smile that it was okay. She nodded, and as Nell walked inside with her, she mouthed, “Meet me here later.”
He smiled and mouthed, “Okay,” then straightened up from the fence as his parents joined him. “How’s Tina?” he asked aloud.
“Not seriously hurt,” Martha reported, “but she won’t be able to hurt anyone else.”
Jonathan sighed. “I still don’t understand why a girl would do all that.”
“I think I do,” Clark said. “Sort of. You go through life with a gift you have to keep a secret, and when you see everyone around you being normal, you get jealous.” He shrugged sadly. “You just want to be somebody else.”
He glanced towards the door of the house, watching as Nell guided Lana inside, not wanting to let her niece go after nearly losing her. He couldn’t blame the woman – but did she really have to view him so negatively? He’d never do anything to hurt Lana – he’d sooner kill himself.
Jonathan had moved away, but Martha noticed her son’s gaze “You really like her, don’t you?“ she said softly.
There was that word again – like. That word that could never, ever do justice to what Lana meant to him. He looked at Martha seriously. “Mom,” he said, voice little more than a whisper, “I love her.”
Her face revealed only sympathy – somehow, she didn’t doubt his words. He glanced towards the house, his vision peeling away the outer walls to show Nell hugging Lana. He sighed and looked away. “If you could see anything,” he asked his mother, “what would you do?”
“Learn to close my eyes,” she said sagely.
He nodded, seeing the wisdom in that. There was no point worrying about the things he could see but not change. He would simply have to settle for the things he could change, one at a time.
He walked away from the house with Martha, leaving the girl he loved and her aunt to their reunion. Despite Nell’s unspoken wishes, he wouldn’t be gone forever – not even close.
* * * * *
The sky was no longer clear – it was cloudy. Furthermore, it was raining.
Clark stood in the small amount of shelter provided by the overhanging roof, waiting patiently. He’d sneaked out after his parents had gone to bed, figuring that Lana would do the same with Nell.
His instinct proved correct again – she appeared at the window in a pearly white nightshirt and pants, gesturing to him. He walked over and helped her get outside, then over to the cherry-red truck sitting in the driveway. They climbed inside, and he shut the door behind them, sitting in the navigator’s seat while she took the driver’s seat.
She took the tape out of its plastic case and held it up, then gingerly put it into the player. He touched her shoulder gently as sound came over the speaker – a microphone being adjusted. Then a man’s voice said, “As principal of Smallville High, I would like to introduce the valedictorian of the class of 1977 – Miss Laura Potter.”
Applause followed the announcement, and Clark watched Lana as she watched the speaker, already seeming affected. Then a dulcet female voice, clear despite the age of the tape, came over the speaker – and Lana found herself crying as she heard her mother speak. Clark held her close, rubbing her side, and listened just as intently.
“Ladies and gentlemen, graduating seniors: good evening. Those familiar words open every graduation address at Smallville High, and I use them deliberately, because the rest of my speech will not be so reassuring.
“I never made a difference here, but maybe my children can.
“When I first came to Smallville High, I was full of hope – hope that I could make an impact, that it would be different for me. But of course, it wasn’t. I had thought that I could change Smallville instead of letting it change me. Unfortunately, four years later, I stand before you as valedictorian of the graduating class of 1977, and all I can tell you is that you should be ashamed of yourselves.
“I know these speeches are supposed to be about memories, about shared moments that will last a lifetime. But my best memory of Smallville is the day I realized I could leave this town behind.
“Though my memories are few, my regrets are many. I regret that I didn’t stand up for James Alexander when he was bullied in the cafeteria, that I didn’t speak up when Sally Adams left town because she was socially excommunicated by a group of girls she called friends. I should have spoken out, should have said something, should have raised my voice in protest. But I didn’t. I sat quietly with my mouth shut, just like the rest of you.
“I put on my cheerleading uniform and my false pompom smile, and when the going got rough, I recessed into a book. That’s probably what got me here in front of you today. But I’d happily give it all back if I could. I’d trade in the pompoms and the straight A’s and the college acceptance for just one thing: the chance to stand up for what was right. So you see, you should be ashamed of yourselves, but no one is more ashamed than I.
“Good luck with your futures. I hope that you leave the cruelty and ignorance behind – I know I will.”
* * * * *
The very next day, that speech was reprinted in the Torch under the headline “THE MOST CONTROVERSIAL SPEECH EVER GIVEN IN SMALLVILLE”, where many read the following introduction courtesy of Chloe Sullivan and then the speech itself:
Twenty-four years ago, the SHS prom theme was “Saturday Night Fever,” Styx was voted band of the century, and in an unprecedented event, SHS valedictorian Laura Potter (mother of current SHS student Lana Lang) delivered a graduation speech that was never transcribed in the Torch due to its “controversial nature.” Well, today, since the Torch is all about controversy, we have decided to reprint the address in its entirety, because, as with most censored speech, it contains the words that most forcefully speak the truth. We hope you get as much from it as we did here at the Torch.
One copy of the paper found itself torn apart, twisted up into a ball, and plunked straight into a trash can. The enraged reader stormed off in a huff, her heels threatening to stab through the floor. She had gotten a lot more than the Torch had hoped – or perhaps a lot less.
This was no longer a mere contest of wills and words – it called for a massive re-strategy. As far as Dawn Stiles was concerned, Chloe Sullivan had just declared war – and she was going to fight back with every dirty trick in the book.
But she wasn’t only going after Chloe. Whitney had told her what had happened last night with him and Lana – and what Lana had told him about Clark Kent and Tina Greer. And now the ex-cheerleader had flip-flopped and was insisting that Kent had saved her from Greer and that she’d never even seen Whitney that night! Ugh, she was such a lying hypocrat!
She was gonna pay, though. Oh, yeah – they were all gonna pay. Kent, Lang, Sullivan – they were all frauds, just like everybody else. Nobody was good at all – it was just a lie they used to cover their dirty tracks. But Dawn swore, by every blonde hair on her head, that she’d find those tracks and throw the mud right where it belonged, where everybody would see it. She smirked at the idea – genius.
Those freaks were finished!
Lana coughed, hard, and blinked her eyes open, feeling her sore throat. She couldn’t see anything but herself in the dark space, whatever it was, and she rolled her head—
“AAAH!” She shoved the skull away, freaked out – then realized as she pushed upward where she was. She was in a coffin! She’d been buried!
She pushed desperately against the heavy stone lid, feeling utterly confined, utterly trapped – she had to get out, had to escape…but it didn’t look like she could at all.
Elsewhere in the cemetery, Clark ran through the night, looking around desperately. There was the gravestone for the Langs, but no Lana—
“Clark,” said a voice he didn’t really care to hear. He turned to see Whitney standing a couple of yards away, shadowed by nearby trees. “What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” Clark said, noting that the jock sounded more surprised than anything else. “Where’s Lana?”
“I dunno,” Whitney said, glancing around as he walked forward. “Nell said she came out here, but I can’t find her.”
But a sudden horrible feeling had overtaken Clark, giving the lie to those words. Within a pocket of the jacket, “Whitney” had stored the meteor rock necklace, which Nell had provided “him” with after a visit to her house, believing the claim that “he” wanted to surprise Lana with it as part of making up with her.
Clark struggled to keep his balance, his stomach roiling – as if he didn’t already have enough to worry about!
“What’s the matter, Clark?” The not-jock didn’t sound or seem concerned, though. “Not feelin’ well?”
Too fast for Clark to dodge, a long metal pipe whipped out from behind the not-jock’s back and crashed over his own, dropping him to the ground with a cry of pain. “There – does that help?” came the scornful yet eerily calm voice.
Clark grimaced, trying to push himself to his feet. “I know it’s you, Tina,” he groaned, his voice weak.
“Tina?” echoed “Whitney” as if in confusion. “Who’s that? Never heard the name before.” “He” swung the pipe down again, knocking Clark back down.
The farm boy didn’t give up, though the blows from the metal only made the agony of the necklace worse. “Where’s Lana?” he groaned, pushing as hard as he could against the ground.
“I am Lana!” the disguised Tina yelled, losing her cool. She smashed the pipe into his chest, and he cried out as he flew high into the air. He crashed down hard, smashing a tombstone to rubble, and groaned as he lay stunned for a moment.
Tina was coming towards him in Whitney’s shape still, and he struggled to get up, weakened. “You don’t have to do this,” he groaned. “I know what it’s like…to live with a secret. I know what happened to your mother.”
“Oh, please,” Tina scoffed, sticking the pipe into the ground and taking off Whitney’s jacket. “That was a lifetime ago. And don’t worry about the old Lana – you’ll be joining her soon.” She tossed the jacket away—
—and as it landed, the meteor rock lost its grip on Clark once again, frustrated in its inanimate desire to slowly destroy him.
“I thought I killed you last night,” Tina continued in Whitney’s voice, picking up the pipe again. “But I won’t make the same mistake twice – I’ll make sure to kill you now.” She swung the pipe down—
—and it crashed onto empty ground. She stared in disbelief, then straightened up—
—and a steely hand clamped onto her broadened shoulder, eliciting a gasp of shock. “You’ve already made the worst mistake ever,” said Clark threateningly, twisting her around to face him, his eyes deadly. “You tried to kill Lana.”
With that, he grabbed the not-jock’s other shoulder and pitched firmly, sending her sailing into the air. She screamed in Whitney’s voice, the pipe falling away – and collided with a tree. She dropped to the base and lay senseless, her disguise melting into her true form.
Clark turned away from her, sucking in a deep breath. “LANA!” he bellowed, terror for her safety filling his voice as it thundered through the cemetery—
—and, as if on cue, his x-ray vision flashed on without being asked. He whipped around, looking quickly and desperately – there! A skeletal form struggled against the lid of a concrete coffin within a nearby tomb, but the struggle was already dying down—
“NO!!!” Clark shot forward at super-speed, smashing right through the metal gate of the tomb and inside. He punched at the lid of the coffin, smashing a big hole in the center, then grabbed the two large pieces that resulted and moved them aside.
Lana lay still in the coffin, and for a terrible moment he feared the worst – but then he heard her moan softly, her air restored. Gently as could be, he gathered her into his arms and carried her out of the tomb, whispering a near-silent thanks heavenward.
She stirred and blinked her eyes open, gasping as her breath returned completely. He knelt on the ground, still holding her effortlessly. “Lana?” he asked softly.
“Clark,” she whispered, her beautiful face showing such quiet joy and relief that he felt it could stop the world. “Thank God for you.”
He smiled, feeling very warm inside, then bent down and kissed her softly. She moaned and slipped her arms around his neck, feeling so wonderfully alive after her brush with death.
Tina herself wasn’t dead – but her shifting ability seemed to have been knocked out for good. She was loaded into an ambulance that drove to Lana’s house along with the police – Deputy Sheriff Ethan Miller, a heavily-mustached man who was an old friend of Jonathan Kent’s, took Clark and Lana’s statements himself. He’d been one of the two men to discover the money in Tina’s locker, and he quietly praised Clark for both the anonymous tip and the timely rescue. Clark took it in good grace – Lana had already given him all the thanks he could ever ask for.
They leaned against the white picket fence and watched as the police spoke with Clark’s parents, whom he’d called over. “Hey!” a voice suddenly said, and they looked to see Chloe in a long gray jacket and red-and-black scarf. “I heard what happened.”
“Did you come to see if I was okay?” Clark asked with a wry smile.
Chloe smiled back. “Actually, as concerned as I always am about your physical well-being, I’m not here to see you.” She turned to Lana, fishing in her pocket – and drew out a small tape labeled “Graduation Address 1977”.
Lana stared in amazement as she accepted it. “Oh, my God,” she whispered. “How did you find this?”
Chloe smiled wryly. “If I told you, I’d have to kill you, and it looks like you’ve had enough trauma for one night.” She glanced around meaningfully.
Lana smiled widely, feeling deeply moved. “Chloe, thank you,” she said, touching her heart.
“No problem,” Chloe said, and Clark had to smile himself at her civility. Maybe more than one relationship had changed lately.
As she walked away, a new arrival appeared – Lex. “I came as soon as I heard,” he said. “Are you two okay?”
“We’re fine, Lex,” Lana assured him. “Clark stopped Tina and got to me just in time.”
Clark looked modest, and Lex smiled knowingly, unsurprised. He glanced into the ambulance and shook his bald head. “So that’s the one who impersonated me and started this whole thing off,” he mused. “Amazing what some people will do.”
“Tell me about it,” Clark sighed. He looked sympathetically at Lana, who leaned against him.
“Still,” Lex said, brightening, “like Lana said, you got there in time.” He smiled at her. “Sometimes, I think we’ve been touched by the hand of God.”
“I know the feeling,” Lana whispered, smiling up at Clark, and he couldn’t help but grin. Lex moved off, figuring it was best to leave the two alone.
Unfortunately, nobody had told Nell that – she came over and all but pulled Lana away from Clark, giving him a cold look. Lana shot her a glare, then looked apologetically towards Clark, who assured her with a smile that it was okay. She nodded, and as Nell walked inside with her, she mouthed, “Meet me here later.”
He smiled and mouthed, “Okay,” then straightened up from the fence as his parents joined him. “How’s Tina?” he asked aloud.
“Not seriously hurt,” Martha reported, “but she won’t be able to hurt anyone else.”
Jonathan sighed. “I still don’t understand why a girl would do all that.”
“I think I do,” Clark said. “Sort of. You go through life with a gift you have to keep a secret, and when you see everyone around you being normal, you get jealous.” He shrugged sadly. “You just want to be somebody else.”
He glanced towards the door of the house, watching as Nell guided Lana inside, not wanting to let her niece go after nearly losing her. He couldn’t blame the woman – but did she really have to view him so negatively? He’d never do anything to hurt Lana – he’d sooner kill himself.
Jonathan had moved away, but Martha noticed her son’s gaze “You really like her, don’t you?“ she said softly.
There was that word again – like. That word that could never, ever do justice to what Lana meant to him. He looked at Martha seriously. “Mom,” he said, voice little more than a whisper, “I love her.”
Her face revealed only sympathy – somehow, she didn’t doubt his words. He glanced towards the house, his vision peeling away the outer walls to show Nell hugging Lana. He sighed and looked away. “If you could see anything,” he asked his mother, “what would you do?”
“Learn to close my eyes,” she said sagely.
He nodded, seeing the wisdom in that. There was no point worrying about the things he could see but not change. He would simply have to settle for the things he could change, one at a time.
He walked away from the house with Martha, leaving the girl he loved and her aunt to their reunion. Despite Nell’s unspoken wishes, he wouldn’t be gone forever – not even close.
The sky was no longer clear – it was cloudy. Furthermore, it was raining.
Clark stood in the small amount of shelter provided by the overhanging roof, waiting patiently. He’d sneaked out after his parents had gone to bed, figuring that Lana would do the same with Nell.
His instinct proved correct again – she appeared at the window in a pearly white nightshirt and pants, gesturing to him. He walked over and helped her get outside, then over to the cherry-red truck sitting in the driveway. They climbed inside, and he shut the door behind them, sitting in the navigator’s seat while she took the driver’s seat.
She took the tape out of its plastic case and held it up, then gingerly put it into the player. He touched her shoulder gently as sound came over the speaker – a microphone being adjusted. Then a man’s voice said, “As principal of Smallville High, I would like to introduce the valedictorian of the class of 1977 – Miss Laura Potter.”
Applause followed the announcement, and Clark watched Lana as she watched the speaker, already seeming affected. Then a dulcet female voice, clear despite the age of the tape, came over the speaker – and Lana found herself crying as she heard her mother speak. Clark held her close, rubbing her side, and listened just as intently.
“Ladies and gentlemen, graduating seniors: good evening. Those familiar words open every graduation address at Smallville High, and I use them deliberately, because the rest of my speech will not be so reassuring.
“I never made a difference here, but maybe my children can.
“When I first came to Smallville High, I was full of hope – hope that I could make an impact, that it would be different for me. But of course, it wasn’t. I had thought that I could change Smallville instead of letting it change me. Unfortunately, four years later, I stand before you as valedictorian of the graduating class of 1977, and all I can tell you is that you should be ashamed of yourselves.
“I know these speeches are supposed to be about memories, about shared moments that will last a lifetime. But my best memory of Smallville is the day I realized I could leave this town behind.
“Though my memories are few, my regrets are many. I regret that I didn’t stand up for James Alexander when he was bullied in the cafeteria, that I didn’t speak up when Sally Adams left town because she was socially excommunicated by a group of girls she called friends. I should have spoken out, should have said something, should have raised my voice in protest. But I didn’t. I sat quietly with my mouth shut, just like the rest of you.
“I put on my cheerleading uniform and my false pompom smile, and when the going got rough, I recessed into a book. That’s probably what got me here in front of you today. But I’d happily give it all back if I could. I’d trade in the pompoms and the straight A’s and the college acceptance for just one thing: the chance to stand up for what was right. So you see, you should be ashamed of yourselves, but no one is more ashamed than I.
“Good luck with your futures. I hope that you leave the cruelty and ignorance behind – I know I will.”
The very next day, that speech was reprinted in the Torch under the headline “THE MOST CONTROVERSIAL SPEECH EVER GIVEN IN SMALLVILLE”, where many read the following introduction courtesy of Chloe Sullivan and then the speech itself:
Twenty-four years ago, the SHS prom theme was “Saturday Night Fever,” Styx was voted band of the century, and in an unprecedented event, SHS valedictorian Laura Potter (mother of current SHS student Lana Lang) delivered a graduation speech that was never transcribed in the Torch due to its “controversial nature.” Well, today, since the Torch is all about controversy, we have decided to reprint the address in its entirety, because, as with most censored speech, it contains the words that most forcefully speak the truth. We hope you get as much from it as we did here at the Torch.
One copy of the paper found itself torn apart, twisted up into a ball, and plunked straight into a trash can. The enraged reader stormed off in a huff, her heels threatening to stab through the floor. She had gotten a lot more than the Torch had hoped – or perhaps a lot less.
This was no longer a mere contest of wills and words – it called for a massive re-strategy. As far as Dawn Stiles was concerned, Chloe Sullivan had just declared war – and she was going to fight back with every dirty trick in the book.
But she wasn’t only going after Chloe. Whitney had told her what had happened last night with him and Lana – and what Lana had told him about Clark Kent and Tina Greer. And now the ex-cheerleader had flip-flopped and was insisting that Kent had saved her from Greer and that she’d never even seen Whitney that night! Ugh, she was such a lying hypocrat!
She was gonna pay, though. Oh, yeah – they were all gonna pay. Kent, Lang, Sullivan – they were all frauds, just like everybody else. Nobody was good at all – it was just a lie they used to cover their dirty tracks. But Dawn swore, by every blonde hair on her head, that she’d find those tracks and throw the mud right where it belonged, where everybody would see it. She smirked at the idea – genius.
Those freaks were finished!
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