Triple Threat (Lois Lane)

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Triple Threat (Lois Lane) Page 19

by Gwenda Bond


  “Sam,” Mom said, “I’m so glad you made it.” She shot me a look. “I didn’t want to get your hopes up, but Dad called and said he was coming home early.”

  I looked at Clark, whose wide-eyed panic reflected my own.

  Or maybe this was going to turn into a complete disaster.

  CHAPTER 21

  Dad put his suitcase down by the living room wall, and turned to find that Jonathan and Clark had risen to their feet. Jonathan gave Dad a salute that was right on the money.

  “Oh, at ease,” Dad said, striding over to join us. “We don’t stand on ceremony with family. Were you in the service?” he asked Jonathan. He completed his journey to the table and took his seat.

  I wished he was in civilian clothes. The General cut a forbidding figure in his full uniformed majesty—especially when he wanted to. Poor Clark.

  Jonathan sat back down and, after a moment’s hesitation, Clark followed suit. “No,” Jonathan said, “but my dad and both grandpas were. Army.”

  “They taught you well,” Dad said.

  Mom cut in with introductions. “This is Jonathan and Martha, and that’s Clark. Everyone meet Sam.”

  “Young man,” Dad said, fixing a laser stare on Clark, “you can call me General Lane.”

  Clark was seemingly frozen in place.

  “Dad,” I gritted the word.

  “Yes, sweetheart?” he asked, tone light, and extended his plate for me to pass it.

  “Hey,” Lucy protested, “I’m usually your sweetheart. Lois is usually trouble.”

  “Sorry, sweetheart,” Dad said, the corners of his eyes crinkling with amusement.

  Lucy nodded, as if all right had been restored to the world.

  “It’s an honor to meet you, General Lane, um, sir,” Clark said. He pressed his glasses up his nose.

  “Sam,” Mom said mildly, “stop scaring the boy. Don’t worry, Clark, he can reduce an entire barracks to stunned silence with that look.”

  “Only when they deserve it,” Dad said.

  Argh. I tried to catch Clark’s eye, but he was clearly afraid to look away from Dad.

  “What part of Kansas are you all from again?” Dad asked, accepting his plate and lifting his fork.

  “A little town called Smallville,” Martha said. “Aptly named. You probably haven’t even heard of it.”

  “Really,” Dad said. “No, I have. And what a coincidence, I just came from there—well, there and a few other places in the area.”

  “That is a coincidence,” Martha said. “Most Kansans never even make it to Smallville.”

  She and Jonathan exchanged a glance. Clark finally shot me a panicked look. I wonder if they’d known why my dad was there or if they were only putting together now that he was the reason they were here.

  “Why’d you come home early?” I asked.

  “Would I miss this?” Dad asked. “We finished up what we were doing there.” He redirected his next words to Martha and Jonathan. “Beautiful little town. The kind I always thought we’d end up in. But instead here we are, at least for the foreseeable future. I worried there’d be too many distractions for Lois, but—for the most part—she’s been doing well here. Loves working at the newspaper.”

  “I love Metropolis,” I put in. And hate being talked about like I’m not even in the room.

  “It’s a little overwhelming compared to the farm,” Martha said.

  “You guys run the whole place yourselves?” Mom asked her. The two moms separated into their own sidebar about the farm.

  “The newspaper, hmm?” Jonathan watched me. “Clark, is this why we have a young heifer named Nellie Bly in the barn?”

  Clark was reaching for his water glass and splashed some onto the table.

  “Um, yes,” I said, blushing again. “Nellie Bly’s my hero. And also the cutest baby cow ever.”

  “You can tell Lois hasn’t spent much time around animals,” Dad said. “We moved around a lot. So, young man—Clark, was it?—what do you think you’ll do with your life? Are you going to take over the farm? Any interest in the military?”

  “Dad, we’re sixteen,” I said. “He doesn’t have to know what he wants to do with his life.”

  Why had I never asked Clark this question? I had no idea how he’d answer.

  “You know what you want to do with yours,” Dad said.

  “Touché, but as Lucy pointed out, you always tell me I’m trouble. Clark’s not.” I smiled, feeling I’d scored a point. I even risked a bite of lasagna.

  Lucy was watching our back and forth as if this was in fact a game. I crossed my fingers I could win. Or at least keep up.

  “Well,” Clark said, “I’m not one hundred percent sure… but I know I want to make a difference. I want to be a force for good.”

  Lucy sighed. “Me too.”

  Dad considered this, and I could tell by his momentary silence he approved of it. He was probably trying to find fault. But how?

  “A little vague, but noble,” he said. “Sounds like something Lois would say. So, how’d you two meet? Some game?”

  “Worlds War Three,” I supplied. So what if it wasn’t the whole truth? It was truth adjacent. We had “met up” for the first time there. Chats were different. “It’s a real-sim holoset game.”

  “Where’d you even get one of those? I know Lucy has one,” Dad said, eyes narrowing.

  “James gave it to me,” I said quickly. “Clark was, uh, friends with some people who had a team from one of our old schools.”

  “What do you do in this game?” Dad asked. “Do you fight each other?”

  “No!” Clark looked to me with a desperate expression. “We hang out…”

  “And study,” I said. “We’re kind of long-distance study buddies.”

  Martha and Mom stopped their side conversation to give me a disbelieving look. “Really?” Mom said. “That’s the best you can come up with?”

  I decided not to say a word. I picked up my soda-filled glass and took a drink from it.

  “I think it’s romantic,” Lucy said. “You met each other before you met each other.”

  Clark nodded, but he didn’t speak either.

  “It could have been dangerous,” Dad said.

  “But it wasn’t.” I put my glass on the table with an audible click.

  Don’t poke back at Dad, don’t poke back at Dad…

  A knock sounded at the door. I didn’t care who it was— silver-footed speedy Todd or Jamie with the wings or… anyone would do—I jumped up to answer it.

  But I was surprised to find Maddy on the doorstep. Night had fallen while I’d been inside.

  “Why are you here?” I asked, afraid I’d missed a major story development.

  “To meet Clark,” she said, craning her neck to see past me. Everyone at the table was riveted to us. “How’s it going?”

  Whew.

  “About as well as you’d expect with General Dad here,” I said under my breath. “He came home early. I have never been so glad to see you in my life. Get inside.”

  “You’re welcome,” she said, grinning.

  “Maddy’s hungry,” I announced, steering her toward the table.

  “Pull up a chair,” Mom said, though she sounded disbelieving.

  “You must be Clark,” Maddy said, sizing him up. “Okay. I say a name, you complete it.”

  I crossed my arms. “What are you doing?”

  “Testing Clark,” she said.

  “This should be fun,” Dad put in.

  Lucy placed her hands under her chin, riveted.

  “I thought you were going to help this situation,” I muttered to Maddy.

  Clark, to his credit, didn’t shrink from the challenge. He said, “Shoot.”

  Maddy nodded and then said, “Dorothy…”

/>   “Parker,” Clark said, smiling.

  She didn’t hesitate. “Ida…”

  “B. Wells.”

  “Nell—”

  “Nellie Bly,” he said, before she even got it out. “Popular topic tonight.”

  “Time for a harder one.” She raised her eyebrows. “Katharine…”

  Clark’s gaze gravitated to me, and back to Maddy. “Graham. Tough-as-nails publisher of the Washington Post during the Pentagon Papers and Watergate scandals.”

  “Are you finished?” I asked.

  Maddy smiled and said, “Yes, and he passed.”

  “Of course he passed,” I said. “He listens when I talk.”

  Martha and my mother both made noises like that was the most adorable thing they’d ever heard.

  “I listen to you,” Jonathan said to Martha.

  “Me too, Ella,” Dad agreed. Both of them gave Clark a slightly dirty look, as if he’d gotten them in trouble.

  He needed to be rescued. Immediately. And I still had my confession to make… at which point he might regret running this gauntlet on my behalf.

  “Guys,” I said, still standing, “I need to, um, talk to Maddy outside for a second. Clark, do you want to come with us?” Lucy was wearing a NASA T-shirt, which I hadn’t noticed before. “You can see, uh, what the stars look like from our terrace.”

  “I don’t know,” Dad said.

  “I thought you said Maddy was hungry,” Lucy said, frowning. Clearly, she didn’t want Clark to leave her side. I could relate, but…

  “I am hungry,” Maddy said, sliding into my seat. “And you don’t really need to talk to me. Seems like we could give these two five minutes to talk, doesn’t it? You know, after my test, which I’m sure was the most taxing part of the evening for him so far.”

  “We’ll be right outside,” I said. “For five minutes. Then we’ll come back—promise.”

  Dad and Mom exchanged one of their patented looks, communicating silently. After which Mom said, “If it’s okay with you guys,” to the Kents.

  “It’s fine,” Martha said, putting her hand over Jonathan’s.

  Clark bolted up out of his seat and was beside me double-time. I looped my arm through his and towed him toward the back door and onto our brownstone’s small terrace. Only letting my nerves flood me once again as we stepped outside. Alone.

  There were fire escape stairs beside the stone terrace that ran up to our neighbors’ and my parents’ windows. We had a few straggly plants in pots, but nothing fancy. Not even a table and chairs, so we had to stay on our feet.

  “Nice rescue,” Clark said. “I like your family, though. They’re nice.”

  “Mom’s nice. Lucy’s developing a crush on you, and Dad…”

  “Yes?” he asked, tension returning to his voice.

  “Must like you okay or he’d never have agreed to give us even five minutes alone.”

  Clark made an exaggerated sweep of the back of his hand over his forehead. “Now, how about these stars you claim to be able to see from Metropolis?”

  I nodded. “Fewer than Smallville, no doubt. Sounds like Dad and his friends came up empty, at least. He didn’t seem suspicious of you guys being here.”

  “Yeah, I’m going to hear about that later.”

  I walked toward the back of the terrace and swept an arm at the sky above. “Behold,” I said. “Our stars.”

  “Beautiful,” he said. “The stars. And, well, you.”

  He took a step nearer to me, and then another. We stood a few inches apart, me staring up into his face. It was dark back here, the few stars and the windows of the brownstone the only illumination. This would be the perfect moment for a kiss.

  I could sense we were both thinking it, and Clark’s face tilted down. So of course I chose to blurt out: “I have something to tell you. You’re not going to like it.”

  He didn’t move away. “Oh?”

  I put a hand against his chest, and then dropped it to step away. I needed space. I needed to not see him get farther away as soon as I put distance between us. I turned away, which was a little cowardly—but I didn’t know what my face would show once he was upset with me.

  “It’s about TheInventor,” I said.

  “What about him?” he asked. His voice came closer again.

  I still couldn’t bear to face him. I stayed turned away.

  “He’s in Metropolis,” I said. “And he wants me to meet him at twelve-thirty tonight at Centennial Park.”

  “Why? How?” he asked. “I thought he wasn’t on the list.”

  “He wasn’t,” I said. “Do you still trust him?”

  “Not the way I trust you. But, yes.”

  “Clark, he wasn’t on the list.” I sighed. “He was the source of it. I had Devin track him online. Because I didn’t trust him. I thought he might be playing double agent. I still think he is. My dad, I overheard him mention that they had a source on the inside at Strange Skies—back when we were dealing with the fake flying man sightings. TheInventor supplied that list to call my bluff. I messaged him and asked for us to come clean with each other, for him to tell us if he’s on our side. He told me he knew I was here, in Metropolis, and that he happens to be too.”

  Silence stretched between us. I stared up the city’s practically nonexistent stars, my mind gone blank of even the existential despair that felt appropriate to the moment while I waited.

  And waited.

  Our five minutes was ticking away. I had no doubt my dad would show up at the door to retrieve us if we pushed it.

  Finally, Clark broke the silence. “So you lied to me.”

  “No,” I said. “I kept a secret. It’s different.”

  Sort of.

  “Okay. Yes,” I said. “I didn’t want to say anything until I was sure. I know you consider him a friend.”

  “And then?” he asked. “When you were? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I’m still not one hundred percent sure,” I said. “Not of anything except that TheInventor sent that list to my dad. And that maybe he was supplying intel to them before too. That’s why I’m telling you now.”

  “No,” he said, “you’re telling me because of this meeting. Lois… you shouldn’t go alone.”

  I faced him. “I’m not going to ask Devin or James… or Maddy. Or…”

  “Me,” he said. “Or me.”

  “I’m not going to put you in that position. I just hope you can forgive me. I hated keeping the secret from you.” I met his eyes. The dark made it less painful. “I really, really did. I wish I hadn’t.”

  He was silent again for a long moment, gazing down at me. “Who would I be to give you a hard time for keeping a secret? You were doing what you thought was right.” He reached out and pulled me into the circle of his arms, against his chest. “It’ll be okay.”

  I leaned into him. His arms made me feel safe. In a completely dorky way.

  “I’m not asking you to come tonight,” I said. “Because I don’t know if your parents would allow it—I’ll be sneaking out. But I’m going to the northwest entrance of Centennial Park. Just so you know. In case I disappear or you want to know or something. If you decide to come, I’ll see you there.”

  “Got it,” he said. “We’d better get back inside.”

  “Yes, we’d better.”

  But neither of us moved for a long moment.

  “I’m still sorry,” I said against his chest. “For the secret.”

  “Me too, for mine,” he said.

  Which, of course, I still didn’t know.

  He pushed me back and his lips gently touched the top of my forehead, and I thought—again—that this was it, we were going to kiss. I prepared to make sure my forehead didn’t knock off his glasses again. I held absolutely still.

  And then his hand drif
ted down my arm to take mine, his other steering us back to the door and opening it to let us back inside.

  “That was six minutes,” Dad said. “Just so you know.”

  Everyone laughed except me and Clark.

  CHAPTER 22

  My family was sound asleep later that night when I slipped out our front door as quietly as possible and rushed up the street to meet Taxi Jack at the end of our block. The night was cool, and I zipped up my jacket against the chill.

  When I reached the car, I climbed in the passenger side.

  “Where to?” Jack asked.

  I told him the park and which entrance.

  “A little late for a picnic, isn’t it?” he asked, putting the car in drive.

  “Good thing I’m going to, um, interview a source instead.” I paused. “You don’t mind waiting?”

  “If you ever ask me that again, I’m going to be offended, Lois Lane. I’ll stay out of sight so I don’t spook the source,” he said.

  We went quiet as he drove us across the city, still lit up. Metropolis never fully turned its lights off, just dimmed them a little. The late-night neon was a comfort.

  Getting out of the house hadn’t presented any problem. Everyone was sound asleep by the time I’d gotten up and dressed again at midnight. They hadn’t stayed up late; Dad was tired from his trip. And my parents completely believed I was ready to retreat to my room as soon as the Kents left, since I was exhausted and somewhat peeved from the constant embarrassment of the evening.

  Not that it mattered.

  Maddy was still my friend. Clark didn’t seem to be angry for my secret-keeping—which was a relief, after that heart-stopping moment when he’d realized I’d lied to him.

  Now I had to pray I was wrong about TheInventor, and that I hadn’t made a mistake even telling Clark where the meeting was. While my encounters with Donovan had made me a tad more cautious, I didn’t mind walking into danger on my own. Not the concept of it, anyway.

  But the idea of steering Clark into it—just like my other friends—well, that was another thing entirely. That I didn’t want any part of.

  Maybe he wouldn’t come. Maybe I should text him not to come.

 

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