When Clark arrived at the farm, he calmly drove up to the entrance, parking the truck in its usual spot. The peaceful atmosphere of the farm welcomed him, and he took a deep breath, savoring the fresh smell of earth and hay. As he turned off the engine, he saw his father, Jonathan, outside, checking something on the tractor near the barn.
"Dad!" Clark called, getting out of the truck and waving to him. Jonathan looked at his son, wiping his hands on a cloth before walking over to him.
"What's going on, Clark?" Jonathan asked, frowning slightly. He always had a sense when something was up.
"Come inside, I want to talk to you and Mom about something," Clark replied, his expression serious but calm. Jonathan nodded, following Clark toward the house.
.....
Upon entering the kitchen, Martha was preparing dinner, the delicious smell of food filling the air. She smiled when she saw them come in, but her smile faded slightly when she noticed the serious look on Clark's face.
"Clark, what happened?" Martha asked, already worried, as she dried her hands on a dish towel.
"I got into a fight at school," Clark said directly, sitting down at the table with a sigh.
Martha stopped what she was doing, her eyes widening in concern. "Are you okay? You didn't get hurt?" She quickly approached, placing a hand on Clark's shoulder as if checking for any signs of pain.
"I'm fine, Mom," Clark assured her, smiling slightly to ease her worries. "Nothing happened to me."
Jonathan, leaning against the doorframe, crossed his arms, his expression stern.
"And what were you doing getting into a fight at school, Clark? You know you can't just use your strength like that."
"I fought because the football team planned to make me the Scarecrow," Clark began, looking at his parents as he sat at the table. "Because I'm a freshman and didn't join the team."
Martha immediately stopped, gripping the dish towel tightly as her face grew serious, anger beginning to show.
"How dare they do that to you?" Her voice trembled slightly as she looked at Jonathan, clearly indignant. "Those boys… they think they can humiliate whoever they want! This is intolerable!"
Jonathan, still leaning against the door, crossed his arms, looking at Clark with a mix of concern and disapproval but letting Martha express her feelings first.
"You don't need to be angry, Mom," Clark said calmly, trying to reassure her. "I'm fine, you know I'm indestructible. They can't hurt me."
Martha took a deep breath, trying to control her anger. "I know you're strong, Clark. But that doesn't change the fact that they tried to humiliate you... and I won't accept that."
Jonathan, who had been watching silently, finally intervened. "Martha, I understand your anger, but Clark already said he's fine. What's important now is how he handled it. Clark, did you use your powers?"
"I didn't use anything that could really hurt them. I just defended myself and made them understand they couldn't do that to me. No one got hurt," Clark said, trying to calm his parents.
"A mother will always worry, Clark, even knowing you're strong. I just want you to be safe... and for no one to try to hurt you, physically or emotionally," Martha replied, still visibly shaken but resigned.
"I know, Mom. And I promise I'll always take care of myself," Clark said with a smile, showing he understood her motherly concern.
"Alright. But remember, Clark, don't let anger or the urge to defend yourself make you use your strength irresponsibly. You have to be better than that," Jonathan said, his expression serious but visibly more at ease.
"I know, Dad. I'll remember that."
"Oh, by the way, I'm going to the dance with Chloe," Clark said casually, standing up from the table. Martha, who was near the stove, paused for a moment, surprised by the news.
"With Chloe?" Martha asked, smiling, visibly happy to hear her son was going to the dance. "Oh, that's wonderful, Clark!"
Jonathan looked at his son, crossing his arms with an approving smile. "You'll wear the suit, right? I think mine should still fit."
Clark nodded, smiling slightly. "Yeah, Dad. I'll wear your suit."
"Clark, you'll look great in it. And you're definitely going to make Chloe feel special," Martha added, excited at the thought of seeing her son dressed up.
"I'm going to get ready now," Clark said, getting up and heading upstairs to his room.
...
Upstairs, Clark entered the bathroom, turned on the shower, and started to wash up, feeling the hot water relax his muscles. As the steam rose, he reflected on the day's events and the upcoming dance. The evening sky was already painted in orange hues, and the tranquility of the night was beginning to settle over the farm.
Knock knock
"Clark, your dad's suit is in your room," Martha's voice called from the other side of the door, gently knocking.
"Thanks, Mom!" Clark replied from the bathroom, rinsing his hair and quickly finishing his shower.
...
After drying off and dressing in comfortable clothes, Clark entered his room and saw Jonathan's suit neatly folded on the bed. The suit was simple but elegant, with a classic touch. He picked up the outfit and began to dress, feeling a little strange in such formal attire. When he was almost ready, he tried to tie the tie, but the knot seemed to be more complicated than he expected.
Knock knock
Martha opened the door softly, peeking in at her son. "Need help with the tie?" she asked with a loving smile.
"Please," Clark replied, relieved.
Martha entered the room, adjusting the tie with the skill of someone who had done it many times before. As she fixed the knot, she looked at her son with pride, her eyes shining with affection.
"You look handsome, son," Martha said, stepping back to admire Clark fully dressed.
Clark smiled back, feeling more confident with his mother's compliment. "Thanks, Mom."
...
At Lana's house
Lana was in her room, looking at the dress she had picked out for the dance. She held her phone in her hand, hesitating, when the phone started ringing. Whitney's name appeared on the screen. She quickly answered, a little surprised.
"Hey, Whitney," Lana said with a shy smile. She was already dressed for the dance, eager for the night she had planned.
"Sorry, Lana, but I hurt my arm," Whitney began, his voice filled with guilt. "I'm not going to be able to go to the dance with you."
Lana's face fell in disappointment. "You hurt your arm? What happened?"
"It was because of Clark," Whitney continued. "That fight... he went overboard, and I ended up getting hurt. Sorry, Lana, but I really can't go."
Lana was silent for a moment, feeling her disappointment grow, but also confused by Whitney's story. "Clark did that?" she asked, doubt evident in her voice.
"Yeah, he was out of control," Whitney lied.
Lana sighed deeply, not knowing how to respond. "Alright, Whitney. Feel better," she finally said, ending the call with a feeling of frustration.
...
Back at the Kent farm
Back at the farm, Clark was in his room, looking at himself in the mirror while Martha adjusted the last details of his tie. She gave it a final touch, making sure everything was perfect, then smiled, satisfied.
"You look handsome, son," Martha said once again, admiring how grown-up he looked in that moment. "Chloe's going to be thrilled."
Clark looked at his mother through the mirror, smiling gratefully. "Thanks, Mom. I think I can make tonight special."
Martha patted Clark's shoulder gently and nodded. "I'm sure you will, Clark. Now, go have fun and just be yourself."
Clark took a deep breath, feeling prepared, and left the room, ready for his night at the dance with Chloe.
Clark walked down the stairs calmly, taking a deep breath and feeling the weight of the night ahead. When he reached the kitchen, he saw Jonathan sitting at the table, flipping through the newspaper while sipping a cup of coffee.
"You look great, son," Jonathan commented, not looking up from the paper, but with a slight smile on his lips.
"Thanks, Dad," Clark replied, adjusting his tie again, even though it was already perfect. "I'm going to grab the truck and head to Chloe's house."
"Have fun, but remember what we talked about regarding your powers," Jonathan said, lifting his gaze to Clark with a serious but affectionate expression.
"I know, Dad. Don't worry," Clark said, grabbing his phone from his pocket and heading out the front door.
As he stepped outside, Clark unlocked his phone and began to dial Chloe's number. While walking toward the truck, he was about to put the phone to his ear when a voice interrupted him.
"Clark!"
Clark looked up and, to his surprise, saw Lana standing there, dressed for the dance. She was outside the house, her expression a mix of frustration and irritation.
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