Work Text:
“Clark.”
He looks up. She’s there. She’s smiling at him. “You ditched me.”
“Sorry.” He shakes his head. He can’t look her in the eye.
“It’s okay. I know you’re not good with lots of people… or loud noises… or, uh, school. It’s my fault, really.”
“No, it’s not. It’s mine, sorry.” He scrubs hands into his eyes. “These are supposed to the best years of our life, right? Why does it feel like they’re not?”
She doesn’t reply for a moment. She swivels around and sits down in the swing next to him. The playground is empty except for them, because it’s after dark.
She places her hands on her knees. “You know that movie I made you watch, earlier this year?”
They’ve seen plenty of movies. Her wording reminds him, though. “The one where we went… just by ourselves?”
“Yeah. With the high schoolers and the detention and all.”
“Uh huh. I remember.”
“I found out that one of the main guys—I guess the jock one—his actor is twenty three right now. Twenty three!”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah! And, um, you know. Sure, they say these are the best years of our life and all, but we have so many after this. You may not have come from outer space with superpowers destined to protect our world from, uhm, mean space guys or whatever, but it’s not like you’re going to fall over dead the second you graduate. You’ve thought about it, haven’t you? What you’re going to do after all this.”
He shrugs. “Sure, I have. But, not a lot…”
“Well, I’ve been thinking about it too.”
“Like what?”
“Oh… well, you first!”
“You know I don’t know.”
“Then I guess you’ll have to wait and see. Once you know, tell me, then I’ll tell you. How about that?”
“Promise?”
“Promise.” She stands, suddenly. “Wait, I have an idea. Let’s dance.”
“Here? Over the bark chips?”
“Yes, here! Unless you want to go back.” She reaches out and takes his hand. He follows. He always follows.
“You know I’m not a good dancer.”
“I’m not either.” He knows she’s lying. Or being humble. “Nobody’s here to watch, silly. It’s just us.”
“We’re just going to dance in silence? It’s getting dark.”
“It’s been dark.” She laughs.
“Well, it got lighter all of a sudden, a few minutes ago.” They stand facing each other. He holds out his free hand. She takes it. “Milady.”
She laughs, again.
They’re still dancing. They were supposed to be dancing, really. But not there, in that quiet, dark park, alone. He had an odd habit of fleeing to places he would normally be afraid of, as if he was trying to punish himself. Or as if he was trying to find solitude, even in the face of a girl who knows him better than anyone else possibly could.
They’re still dancing.
He can almost hear her laugh.
