Clark wondered what Bryan could have done. Maybe it was something really serious. “Bryan was the one piloting the helicopter that crashed on our farm,” Clark said in a softer voice, hoping Lana would take the hint. “I think the storm caused him to lose control or something. Luckily, they landed in the mud and nobody was hurt.”
“The article I read didn’t give any names.” Lana had lowered her voice. “I bet his dad made some calls to keep his son’s name out of the paper. Anyone with him?”
“Bryan’s older brother, Corey. And some scientist named Dr. Wesley.”
“Dr. Wesley,” Lana muttered to herself. “Dr. Wesley. Why does that name sound so familiar?” She leaned toward Clark. “And why were they flying over your property in the first place?”
Clark shrugged. “They claimed to be taking atmospheric measurements.”
Lana laughed out loud. “Likely story.”
“You don’t buy it.” Clark knew it was a little odd. But the Mankins Corporation had made a fortune by being on the cutting edge of modern-day farming. The company had recently developed a top-secret “miracle” mineral that radically affected crop growth. And all the family-owned farms that were using Mankins’s genetically engineered seeds were reporting record harvests. So it didn’t seem implausible that Mankins might be taking atmospheric measurements of some kind.
Lana sat back. “Look, I get it. Mankins has done a lot of good in this community.”
“But…”
Lana stared at the table for a few seconds before looking up at Clark. “Do you ever wonder if the company is, like, a little too good to be true? I mean, Mankins is buying up a shit ton of family farms. Shouldn’t we be asking why?”
Clark leaned back in his chair. “You sound like my dad. He wonders what kind of chemicals Mankins might be dumping into our water.”
“A good reporter doesn’t take anything for granted.” Lana began pulling textbooks out of her bag, but Clark knew this conversation was far from over. “Now, let’s hear about this crash,” she said.
Clark gave Lana a play-by-play of the entire incident, leaving out, of course, the part where he’d caught the chopper with his bare hands and wrestled it to the ground. When he’d finished talking, she asked, “So, you basically rescued these guys from a burning helicopter?”
“I helped Bryan out of the cockpit, but that’s about it. Nothing was burning. Just a little smoke.”
“Work with me, Clark. This would make such a great lead story for the last paper of the school year: ‘Local Heartthrob Saves Three from Exploding Chopper.’ ”
Clark laughed to mask his embarrassment. Lana had a knack for coming up with silly headlines like that. But did she really think of him as a “heartthrob”?
“You’re getting dangerously close to fake news,” he told her. “Honestly, I was just in the right place at the right time. Or the wrong place. However you wanna see it. The point is, me and my dad were able to call in the crash, and they sent out Deputy Rogers and an ambulance and this special tow truck. Luckily, everyone was okay.”
Lana was shaking her head in disbelief. “I can’t believe you saved Bryan Mankins. You probably have a job waiting for you when you graduate.”
Clark laughed. “My dad said that, too.” Clark shook his head as he pulled his psychology book out of his bag and set it in front of him. He didn’t open it. “Anyway, me and Bryan are hanging out tomorrow.”
“Wait, what?”
His eyes met Lana’s. “Yeah. We’re going to All-American. The two of us and that guy Lex, who drove me here.”
“You’re going to dinner with Bryan? Clark, you buried the lede. We have so many questions for him.”
“ ‘We’?” Clark couldn’t help smiling.
“Listen, after we get a little work done, I’m going to teach you everything I know about the art of the interview. By the end of dinner, we’ll know all about this kid and his mysterious family. Once you report back to me, that is.” Lana rearranged the textbooks on the table in front of her so that her math book was closest. She looked up at Clark. “You know, for a tiny little town, we sure do have a lot of strangers hanging around lately. This Lex guy with the sports car. Dr. Wesley. I even met a cute stranger at the coffee shop this morning.”
Clark was surprised to hear Lana describe someone as “cute.” Most of the time she hardly even noticed when someone was flirting with her. “So, who’s this coffee shop guy?” Clark asked.
“He was ahead of me in line, and when I got up to the counter, the barista said, ‘The customer ahead of you is covering your order as well.’ And when I turned around, he gave me this little wave and came over and told me he liked my dress.” She mimed the little wave with a smile. “We only talked for a few seconds before he got a call on his cell and said he had to go. He seemed a tad ‘business smarmy,’ but he was definitely cute.”
Clark felt oddly protective all of a sudden, and he wasn’t sure why. A part of him wanted to head straight to the coffee shop and conduct an interview of his own. He couldn’t have a smarmy guy messing with his best friend. “You didn’t even get his name? What kind of reporter—?”
“We didn’t have time to introduce ourselves,” Lana interrupted. “My point is, what’s up with all the mystery men in Smallville lately? Seems kind of odd, don’t you think?”
“Speaking of odd,” Clark said, eager to steer their conversation someplace else, “have you heard anything about people in Smallville…disappearing?”
“Disappearing?” She was back to her loud voice.
“I’ll take that as a no. Someone mentioned it to me in passing, and I thought—”
“If anyone in Smallville disappeared,” she said, hastily putting her hair in a ponytail, “I’m pretty sure I’d know about it.”
Clark gave a sarcastic nod. “Right. Kind of like you knew Bryan Mankins was the one piloting the helicopter that crash-landed on my farm.”
She shot him a playful glare. “Whatever, Clark. That’s different.” She opened her math book and began flipping through the pages. “I mean, we can definitely look into any kind of possible disappearance. I just haven’t heard anything.”
Clark grinned as he opened his math book, too. Any chance he had to give Lana a hard time, he took it. It was often the other way around.
“Interview strategies to come,” Lana said, looking up at Clark. “But first…what should we start with today? Extreme Value Theorem or Newton’s Method?”
Clark pulled a folded homework sheet from his math book and flattened it out. With everything going on in Smallville, it was a relief to be temporarily turning to math.
The All-American Diner was famous for two things: cheap, massive portions of french fries and a generous owner who never seemed to stop smiling. The owner, however, was not as all-American as the name of his restaurant might suggest. David Baez was one of Smallville’s first-ever Mexican immigrants. He’d moved to town in the 1960s, from Oaxaca, and never left. He eventually married a local woman and had a large family and became a citizen. Dave’s constant jokes, his tendency to give away free milkshakes, and the restaurant’s proximity to Smallville High School meant that the place was almost always busy. Especially after school and on weekends.
Tonight was no exception.
The first thing Clark noticed as he walked through the front door was that every single table was taken.
And then he noticed Gloria Alvarez.
She was serving a table at the far end of the loud diner, smiling brightly at a group of football players. Most of them were Clark’s former teammates, including Tommy, Paul, and Kyle. If he were still on the team, he thought, he’d be sitting right there in the middle of their booth. Joking with everyone. Talking to Gloria.
But he couldn’t play anymore, so here he was, on the outside looking in.
Like always.
/> Clark successfully focused his super-hearing on their conversation for a few seconds, and sure enough, they were vying for Gloria’s attention. She snapped something right back at them that made the whole table of football players burst out laughing.
He felt a tinge of jealousy watching her laugh along with his ex-teammates. But at least she seemed happy. The last time he’d seen her, she was wiping away tears.
Gloria picked up a couple of empty plates, then turned and hurried off toward the kitchen. Clark must have stared just a little too long, because now Tommy was waving him over. Clark headed to their table reluctantly.
He noticed that Paul was wearing a much lighter shoulder sling. That was a good sign. His condition was improving.
“Clark,” Tommy said, “wanna join us?”
“Or can you not even sit with us anymore?” Paul joked.
A couple of the players chuckled.
Clark smiled good-naturedly and looked around the crammed booth. Even if he’d wanted to join them, there was nowhere for him to sit. The booth was designed to hold five normal-sized humans, but it was currently stuffed with four hulking varsity offensive linemen, a fullback, a six-four quarterback, and a pit bull of a running back. They all had big pops in front of them. “I would,” Clark said, “but I’m meeting a friend.”
“Someone from the debate team?” Kyle quipped humorlessly.
“Careful,” Paul said, glancing down at his shoulder sling, “or he’ll blindside your ass, too.”
The football players all nodded in agreement, and a right tackle named Bobby Hanson said, “It’s all good if you don’t wanna play, Clark. But did you really have to take Paulie out like that? All we got is a damn freshman in the backfield right now.”
“I’ll be back soon,” Paul said. “Trust me.”
“Guys, can we give Clark a break?” Tommy said. “He’s only apologized, like, a hundred times for what happened to Paul.”
As the guys grumbled a little, Clark looked at his former friend. He and Tommy used to be close in freshman year. Back when Tommy was opening up holes in the opposing defense for Clark to pummel through. Back when they used to sit around after practice talking about how hard it was to balance football and farmwork. Tommy wanted to be a vet; Clark, a farmer, like his dad. They used to have so much in common. It amazed Clark how quickly things could change.
He glanced around the diner, looking for his escape. It wasn’t that he didn’t like these guys. He liked them a lot, actually. And deep down he knew they liked him, too. But this was the way it worked with a team. When you were in the trenches together, fighting for a common goal, you were brothers. But as soon as you left the team, they dropped you. It was even worse in Clark’s case, because he’d been their best player. And it’s not like he’d gotten hurt or been ruled academically ineligible. The way they saw it, he’d simply walked out on them.
Clark spotted Bryan at a table at the other end of the diner. Just as he was about to head there, quarterback Curtis Baker spoke up for the first time. “Clark, you’re gonna swing by Tommy’s on Friday night, right? His family sold their farm, so we’re throwing one last rager for old times’ sake. Giving the place a proper funeral.”
Clark knew all about the party. Everyone did. But he’d never expected any kind of special invitation. And because it was the starting quarterback who had offered it, everyone else was now nodding in agreement. “Yeah,” he said. “I’ll probably stop by.”
“Just let us know what you need,” Paul added. “Whole milk. Two percent. Skim. We got you covered, Clark.”
Everyone cracked up.
The “milk drinker” dig didn’t bother Clark. If anything, it made him feel nostalgic. He missed the team parties Tommy’s parents threw at their farm after every home game. All the pizza they could eat. And all the pop they wanted. But because Clark had never really liked pop, he always asked for milk instead. It quickly became a running joke with the team.
Clark slapped hands with Tommy and a few of the other guys and moved on.
He was happy to see he’d have to pass Gloria on the way to Bryan’s table. She looked up as he approached, their eyes locking for two or three butterfly-inducing seconds before she turned back to a table of old-timers. He watched her interaction with the Kellers and the Smiths, two couples who met at the diner nearly every night to eat pie and drink coffee and play cards. Most restaurant owners wouldn’t let a table sit occupied for hours like that, but David Baez loved these guests. He’d sometimes even join them for a hand or two and would occasionally pick up their check.
Clark swallowed hard as he passed Gloria, close enough to catch the faint scent of her flowery shampoo. She pulled a pencil from behind her ear, which was lined with piercings. She wrote down the old folks’ orders—as if she didn’t already know—and placed the pencil back behind her ear as she moved toward the kitchen. The whole thing made Clark’s stomach tighten. Was he really getting flustered by the way someone took an order? And stuck a pencil behind her ear?
“Clark,” Bryan called out as he stood up. “Glad you could make it.”
Clark slapped hands with him and sat down on the opposite side of the table. “Where’s Lex?”
“Canceled on me last minute. He tends to do that.” Bryan pointed to the menu sitting in front of Clark. “Guess he doesn’t appreciate the utter genius of the rubbery diner steak.”
“You ever had one here?” Clark asked. “They’re really good.”
“I’ve only had the burger. And the fries. You’re right, though—food’s not bad.” Bryan’s face grew serious as he set down his menu. “Hey, I wanted to say…I appreciate you helping me out after we crashed onto your farm. Not everyone would have reacted so quickly. So thank you.”
Clark smiled as he nodded. “You’re welcome,” he said, feeling a warmth rise up to his scalp. He picked up his own menu.
As Bryan went back to quietly studying the food options, Clark glanced across the diner at Gloria. She was picking up an order at the food pass. He watched her spin gracefully and somehow carry four heaping plates to a family, then set them down without dropping so much as a leaf of lettuce. She gave the family a genuine smile before heading over to another table.
When Clark turned back to his menu, he found Bryan staring at him. “What?”
Bryan motioned toward the front of the restaurant, near the table where Gloria was now refilling someone’s coffee mug. “Don’t tell me you have a crush on that hostess, too.”
Clark shifted his eyes slightly toward the hostess stand, where Moira DeMeyer, a tall, blond junior, was wiping down menus. She and Lana used to be close friends back in middle school, but they didn’t hang out anymore. Clark knew Moira was one of the most popular girls at school, and a few years back she’d abruptly dropped Lana as a friend in favor of a group of “mean girls.” And that didn’t sit well with Clark.
“Not even close,” he answered. “I was just thinking about how crowded this place is. Every single table is taken.”
Bryan laughed. “Good. It’s a little irritating watching every guy follow her around at school like a little puppy dog.”
“Exactly,” Clark said. He set down his menu and attempted to change the subject. “So, Lex cancels on you a lot?”
“He had some kind of emergency conference call he had to take. I don’t know. Honestly, that guy’s always wheeling and dealing, looking for a new way to take over the world.”
Clark studied Bryan, thinking back to Lana’s tutorial on how she thought Clark should approach this dinner. Now that it was just him and Bryan, though, the dynamic seemed different. So he simply went with his gut. “He doesn’t live here, does he?”
“Lex?” Bryan laughed out loud. “That’s a good one. No, Lex would never live in a place like Smallville. No offense.” Bryan leaned in closer. “To be honest, he got into a little trouble back in Metropo
lis. Nothing major, I don’t think. But his dad thought he should stay out of the city until stuff blew over. And he suggested our place.” Bryan leaned back. “Our dads went to college together.”
Clark was surprised how much Bryan was telling him. At school he mostly kept to himself. People assumed he was super private because of who his dad was. Clark pressed on. “Is he working for you guys while he’s here?”
“Lex doesn’t work for my dad, no. But neither do I.” Bryan picked up his menu, then immediately set it back down. “I’m not like my brother, who’s being groomed to take over at some point.”
“What about that scientist guy who was with you?”
“Dr. Wesley? My dad would never hire him.” Bryan looked around, making sure no one else was within earshot. “He’s pretty creepy. Before coming to Smallville, he spent a couple years in prison.”
This revelation surprised Clark. “For what?”
“I guess he had ties to some pretty shady mobsters back in Metropolis. They funded everything he did.” Bryan shook his head and picked up his menu again. “Anyway, he has his own company. Corey’s the one who insists on bringing him onto certain side projects. He has to do it on his own dime, though, because my dad would be pissed if he knew they were collaborating.”
The conversation was flowing, and Clark felt like he was learning a ton of information about Lex and the Mankins Corporation. But it was time to focus on Bryan. “So, why don’t you work for your dad? I mean, now that you’re back from Metropolis—”
“Look, Clark,” Bryan said, cutting him off, “I need to be up-front about something.”
“I’m prying too much,” Clark told him. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not that.” Bryan folded his arms and leaned back into the plush padding of the booth. “It’s just…when it comes to my dad’s company—”
Bryan was interrupted by a food server, who stepped up to their table and asked, “You two ready to order?”
Clark looked up at the woman with mild disappointment. He’d been hoping they were in Gloria’s station. They both ordered steak with fries. And Bryan asked for a cherry cola. The server wrote these things down and said, “I’ll get this started for you right away.”
Superman Page 5
