“Chloe,” Clark called down through the hallway. She glanced up from her locker and smiled back, waving. He jogged up to her, dodging past groups of students as he did so. School had just let out and the hallways were packed.

“Hey there,” Chloe said as he got near. “I was just going down to the Torch, want to come with me?”

“Sure, still working on that article about Sarah?” She nodded, adjusting the backpack straps on her shoulders. “So how was she doing?”

“I don’t know how to describe it,” Chloe admitted, frowning slightly. “At first she seemed kind of nervous that I was there, and then her dad burst in and that just made everything worse. But then she just said a few words to him and he completely caved in.”

“He didn’t want you to do the story?” he asked, puzzled.

“Ehh, he’s a lawyer,” she shrugged if off. “You’d think a lawyer would be able to argue better,” Chloe wondered. “Anyway, after he backed off, Sarah was kind of… I don’t know, different. Kind of distracted, you know?”

“Pete said she wasn’t in class today.”

“Maybe she’s still not feeling better,” Chloe said. She stopped and turned to Clark. “I mean, after all, she did have a pretty bad fall. That could shake anybody up.” He started to answer when he suddenly noticed someone running down the hall behind her. Clark yanked Chloe aside as a burly looking boy dashed past her, his hands waving wildly in the air. Everyone stopped and stared at him, primarily because he was only wearing his boxers. “Was that Alex Rohmen?” Chloe asked, astonished.

“What does he think he’s doing?” Clark echoed.

“I’d say he’s running around in his underwear,” someone observed dryly from behind them. They turned around and received their second shock of the afternoon. “I wonder who put that idea into his head? Not that it matters, he was always a jerk to everyone,” the girl remarked. She was medium height, with long brown hair that looked like it had been recently permed. She wore a tight fitting t-shirt that left a good inch of skin on her belly visible. Her jeans were tight and looked right off the rack of Fordmans. Clark stared at her for a moment, trying to place her face, then she smiled at him and something clicked in his mind.

“Sarah?” he gaped.

“Clark,” she smiled at him, toying with the belt straps on her jeans.

“Wow,” Chloe said. “You look… different,” she stammered.

“I feel different,” she said. “I don’t know, empowered or something. And I was tired of my old look. Decided to try out a new one.” She leaned over and gestured at her clothing. “Like what you see?” she asked them, her eyes on Clark.

“Uhh…,” he hesitated, glancing at Chloe and trying to think of an answer that wouldn’t get him in trouble. “It looks… good,” he said finally. He instantly regretted it as Sarah frowned at him.

“Very trendy,” Chloe told her. “Stylish.” Sarah ignored her, still looking at Clark.

“Just ‘good’?” she asked him. She leaned in close to him, making Chloe frown a bit at how close she was to him. “Don’t you like it, Clark?” she asked him, her face intent.

Clark opened his mouth to disagree, when suddenly he found himself saying, “Of course I love it. It looks great on you.” Chloe seemed to choke on something beside them, but he didn’t notice. All that mattered to him was that Sarah was smiling, that she was happy. Seeing her smile made him happy, he thought. Of course it did; she was after all, one of the best girls in that he knew, the best now that he thought about it. She was the pinnacle of-

“Excuse us for a minute,” Chloe said, yanking Clark away by his arm. He blinked suddenly, his vision blacking out for a second. He rubbed his temples lightly, trying to clear his mind. “Could you wipe the drool of your chin, Clark?” Chloe hissed at him. “Just what were you doing right there?”

“What are you talking about?” he asked her irritably. For some reason he had a major headache all of a sudden. It felt like it was pounding away at his skull with a jack-hammer.

“What am I talking about?” she repeated. “You were practically fawning over her for a second back there.” She gestured at Sarah, who stood there, watching them stonily.

“What?” he tried to respond. “I was just…” he trailed off as he realized that he couldn’t remember. “What was I doing?” he asked again.

“Chloe,” Sarah spoke up, “I’d really like to talk to Clark alone for a while. Why don’t you just go away?” she said off-hand. Chloe froze up for a moment, and then slowly turned around to face her.

“Excuse me?” she asked, her voice dangerous. “What did you just say?” Sarah raised her eyebrows in astonishment for a second, and then looked nervously at her.

“Go away,” she said again. “Somewhere, anywhere, I don’t care.”

“If you think I’m going anywhere,” Chloe snapped, “you’ve got another thing coming.” She stepped up to Sarah, making the other girl scramble back frantically. “Just what do you think you’re doing? We’re trying to be nice to you and all of a sudden you’re telling me to run off? I don’t think so. What is with you today? I mean, aren’t you a little late for school now?” she demanded.

“Maybe I had better things to do,” Sarah snapped back.

“Yeah, well,” Chloe shrugged, “maybe we do too.” She grabbed Clark’s arm and stormed off, tugging him behind her. Although she was small for her age, Chloe could move surprisingly quickly when she wanted to, and now she definitely wanted to. Tripping slightly, Clark glanced back at Sarah as Chloe pulled him, muttering savagely under her breath. Sarah stood rooted in place, watching them go in shock.

A few other students watched as well, no any less surprised. Lana slowly worked her way through a crowd of people over to Sarah, doing a double take as she saw her new outfit. “What was all that about?” she asked, glancing back down the hallway. Sarah rolled her eyes and gave Lana a withering look.

“Perfect. Just what I needed,” she grumbled. Without another word she turned around and stalked away, other students making way for her. Lana stared after her, astonished.

“I can’t believe her!” Chloe almost screamed. She flung the door to the Torch office open so hard it hit the sidewall and rebounded in Clark’s face. He managed to stop it before the frame smashed into his nose, shutting it quickly behind him. She went on, stomping around her desk furiously, oblivious to anything else. “Did you hear her? She told me to run off, like I was some five year old. I can’t believe that!

“Chloe, calm down,” he urged her. She waved him away, still fuming.

“You be calm!” she snapped. “You weren’t the one who was told to shove off.” Her eyes narrowed and she glared at him. “No,” she said, coming closer to him, “you were the one hanging off her every word! You didn’t even try and defend me! I mean,” she finished huffily, turning away, “don’t you care about me anymore?”

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“Chloe, that’s enough,” he told her finally. He took hold of her shoulders and gently, but firmly, turned her around to face him. She put her head down, refusing to look at him. “You’re my best friend and more,” he told her, lifting her chin up with one finger. “You mean more than the world to me. If I didn’t say anything, it’s because I don’t remember anything happening. The last thing I remember is Sarah standing in the hallway, and then all of a sudden you two are shouting at each other and I’ve got a big headache. Alright?” he asked her. She tried to hold up her glare, but finally she shook her head, smiling at him.

“Alright,” she said. “You’re forgiven this time. But sometimes a girl likes a knight in shining armor, remember that.”

“And whatever happened to empowerment?” he asked, raising one eyebrow at her.

“Sometimes, Clark,” she laughed. “Sometimes.”

“I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” Pete asked, cracking the door open. Clark and Chloe took a step back from one another awkwardly, giving each other a shy smile. Pete grinned wickedly at them, and then assumed an innocent expression. “Of course, if you two were doing important Torch work, I could always come back later…” he trailed off.

“Get in here,” Chloe remarked. He laughed and sauntered in, turning one of the office chairs backwards to sit down in.

“So I guess we know what the lead story in the next Torch is going to be,” he commented, leaning forwards against the back of the chair.

“What: ‘Semi-Nude Student Runs Wild Through Hall’?” Chloe asked. “Forget it, maybe a blurb or a corner column, but it’s hardly front page material.”

“I’ll say. Alex’s not exactly the first person I would have wanted to run through school in their underwear.”

“And if you continue that thought any further,” Chloe warned him, “we’ll just see what winds up on the front page of the next Torch.”

“What are you talking about? My past is an open book, totally clean.”

“Fifthgradedance,” Clark coughed into his fist. Pete jumped and glared at him. Clark shrugged innocently, trying not to smile.

“Okay, that was a long time ago,” Pete remarked.

“Yeah, but I still have the pictures,” Chloe laughed.

Pete glanced between the two of the nervously, leaning back in the chair. “So what are we going to run for the next issue?” he said, changing the subject quickly. Chloe smiled and swiveled around in her chair so she could access her computer. She brought up a file with a template for the front page on it.

“I was thinking we’d lead with Sarah’s little accident,” she said, biting the name off when she came to it. “Then an update on the state of the Plant buyout, explain it to kids…” her voice trailed off suddenly.

“What?” Clark asked her.

She shook herself and turned to both of them. “It’s just, well, suddenly Sarah’s acting all weird, right?” she asked them. “And we know that yesterday she was in this major accident.” She started to pick up steam. “And Clark, you said that when you pulled her out, she was covered in green dust, and we all know what that means.”

“Hold on,” he said. “You think just because she was in an accident and now she’s acting a little differently, the meteor rocks are to blame?”

“Clark, that’s practically our school motto. I mean, what else have we been doing the past year?” Clark frowned, but he couldn’t think of anything to say to dispute her.

“Maybe it is the meteor rocks,” Pete agreed, “but here’s a question for you. Has she done anything yet?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Has she done anything yet, Chloe?” Pete asked her.

“Discounting rudeness,” Clark told her firmly

“Well… no,” Chloe said finally, “but something is definitely different about her.”

“Of course it is,” Pete told her, “she was in a accident yesterday. She almost died. That has to shake things up for anyone a little bit. She’s always been shy, maybe she saw her life flash before her eyes and regretted it, I don’t know,” he shrugged. “Point is, there’s no real reason to go after her. Even if something did happen, it’s not like she’s hurt anyone yet.”

“Yet,” she pointed out. “Yet.”

“If it makes you feel any better, why don’t Pete and I go talk to her?” Clark offered her. Chloe frowned a little and started to say something, but he continued over her. “She might not even know what happened to her and maybe she’ll feel more comfortable telling us about it then the Torch’s editor.”

“I don’t know,” Chloe hesitated. “Maybe I should go with you?”

“Just us two, Chloe,” he insisted, “at least at first. Let’s not try and have a repeat of back there in the hallway.”

“Fine,” she said, exasperated. “You do that.” Clark and Pete stood up and walked out the door, listening to her grumble behind them. “Just leave me here, I’ll be fine. Go find her. She’s probably off somewhere living it up with her freaky, new powers!” she yelled as they shut the door behind them.

“Well this is certainly exciting,” Sarah grumbled to herself, sitting alone in the old bleachers of the football field. She picked idly at a splinter in the wooden seats, watching the track team warm-up for practice. One of them, Frank Meldy, she recognized, started running towards the high jump, calling to his friends. He leapt agilely over the bar and his friends erupted into applause. “Yeah, whoo hoo,” she mumbled under her breath. “You jump over a piece of wood and people love you. Me, I can make people do what I want, but still nothing goes right.” She frowned, prying a splinter from the seat and turning it over in her fingers.

“Maybe not ‘people’,” she corrected. “My voice works on guys, but apparently not girls, or just not nosy, arrogant little reporters. It’d be easy to take care of her then, maybe make her reveal all her darkest secrets in the next Torch, huh? Or make her carve her initials in every car in town?” She smiled. “Or strip down to your underwear and run through the school,” she laughed, remembering Alex’s face when she’d spoke to him this morning. He’d been more than happy to do it, almost eager. It had frightened her a little bit, how easy it had been; what she could do to people. But it had also been exciting, a deep, dark exciting she knew she shouldn’t like, but did.

“Well if I can’t talk to her,” Sarah reasoned, “maybe I’ll just talk to her dad, or her friends. Make them believe something about her. Her dad could ground her,” her eyes brightened, “or send her to military school! I bet she’d look good in fatigues.”

There was a sudden burst of laughter out on the field. She turned idly, still mulling the idea over in her mind. One of the smaller freshmen was lying on the high jump mat, the bar across him. Frank and his lackeys were all laughing and pointing at the boy, who was hurriedly trying to put the bar back into place. “You’ve gotta be taller than the bar to jump it,” Frank yelled at him. Even from where she sat, Sarah could see the boy’s face go red with humiliation.

Sarah flicked the splinter away and got up slowly. Stepping down off the bleachers carefully, she made her way across the field, ignoring the different groups of students training around her. Her face seemed bored, disinterested, but she kept her eyes locked on Frank and the rest. One of his friends noticed her coming and elbowed him in the side. He eyed her bare stomach and started to grin. “Hi, boys,” she said, eyeing him and his friends with a smile.

“Something I can do for you?” he asked her, his eyes leering over her body. His friends chuckled, moving around her until she was encircled. She let them get a little closer, her eyes starting to smolder.

“It’s more what you all can do for me,” she told them. On cue, they started to smile blankly at her, their eyes adoring and absolutely trusting. “Now I’ve heard that track stars like to be known for their stamina. So why don’t you all just start running laps and don’t let anything stop you. Keep going until sundown, or whenever you can’t run anymore, whichever comes first.” They stared at her blankly and she shooed them away. “What are you waiting for? Get going!” Almost as one, they snapped to attention and started jogging towards the track, oblivious to other students as they ran through different groups. They completely ignored the coaches’ shouts as they tried to stop them. Sarah smiled as she watched some of the coaches try and catch up to them as Frank and his friends started their first lap. She glanced up at the sun, high in the sky, and sighed deliciously. “Just helping them get their practice,” she remarked. The small freshman they had been hassling stared at her from the high jump, still holding the bar in his hands. She shrugged at him and started to walk off the field. Halfway there, she noticed someone else who looked like they needed a little help.

A young man was standing alone by the end of the bleachers, looking out over the old practice fields. An old varsity jacket lay crumpled on the ground next to him. He was tall and athletic looking, with a shortly trimmed crop of blond hair. Though only a few years older than Sarah, his face gave the impression of being much older. His face was naturally handsome, but was now twisted into an almost perpetual look of despair by new worry lines and dark circles around his eyes.

“Whitney,” she said, sneaking up on him and pushing him lightly in the back. “I didn’t expect to see you out here all alone like this. Did Lana loosen the leash or what?” He stared at her, kneading a football in his hands, looking vaguely puzzled.

“I’m sorry,” he said slowly, staring at her face. “Who are you?” She frowned at him and felt a sudden urge to send him jogging along with Frank.

“Sarah, Sarah Sanderson?” she supplied. “I sat behind you in Pre-calc. Behind everybody, really; it was the last row.”

“Oh,” he said, “right.” He still didn’t seem very convinced though, eyeing her clothing. “Umm… new look?”

“New everything. I was just sitting there feeling sorry for myself when I saw you standing here doing pretty much the same thing. So I decided we might as well do it together. Wouldn’t you like that?”

“Yeah,” he said, his face brightening up. She smiled at him, but then turned away a little, looking out over the field. For some reason, she didn’t feel as good about this as she had with Frank and the rest.

“So,” she said, not wanting to see him staring blankly at her, “what was on your mind?”

He shook himself a little, coming back to his senses. Blinking his eyes quickly, Whitney gazed out over the field, his face somber. “I was just thinking about all the time I spent out here practicing,” he told her. “We had games back there,” he nodded over his shoulder, “but it was out here that we really spent all our time.”

“The football team?”

“Yeah, them and every other team I’ve ever been on. Pop Warner, middle school, even just me and my dad having our own pretend games,” he said quietly. “He used to drive me up here on weekends when I was little, and we’d toss the ball back and forth. Then sometimes we’d make up our teams and play against each other, just the two of us with our own imaginary squad. We’d pretend to throw the ball to ourselves and he’d say that one of my teammates had tackled him. The score would be close, but I’d always win.” His fingers were white around the football, clutching it desperately in his hands. She was surprised to see tears in his eyes. He noticed her looking and quickly dashed them away against his arm. “Sorry,” he told her quickly, “I don’t know why I told you that. Just forget it.”

“I’m sorry about your dad,” she said quietly. “I didn’t know him, but I’m sure he was great.”

Whitney looked up at her, his eyes red. “He was.”

Sarah stared at him for a moment, and then bit her lip fiercely, thinking. Finally, she reached out and took his head in her hands. He flinched back a little, but didn’t try and remove them. “What are you doing?” he asked nervously.

“Shhh…” she whispered soothingly. At once he was quiet, staring at her and waiting. “Whitney,” she asked, “what would you like more than anything in the world right now?”

“I’d want my father back,” he said immediately. Pain flashed across her face for a moment, and she shook her head.

“I can’t do that for you,” she told him sadly, “but what about this? How would you like to forget about losing him for a little while? To just be happy?”

“That sounds pretty good,” he replied, smiling at her. He really looked much younger when he smiled, she thought to herself. She nodded and released him. He staggered briefly and then regained his footing, looking around like he didn’t know exactly where he was. The football he’d be holding dropped to the grass and rolled away. He didn’t seem to notice it fall. Sarah smiled at him, that excitement worming it’s way up from her stomach again.

“Now why don’t we head into town and have some fun?” she asked him.