Clouds Up - Four (4/15)
"So, Lucas," one of the guys called out. "What are you doing for Thanksgiving?"
Everyone became very still, and very quiet, and Lucas brought up his smile to prove he wasn't upset at all.
"Well, Jeff," he began, in a voice and tone much like that of a newscaster. The kids around him laughed, and even Lucas thought it was kind of funny. "I fully plan on embracing that age-old tradition known as turkey gorging." There was more laughter at that, more genuine and spontaneous. "I will consume roughly a small child's weight in turkey, which will of course be drowned in gravy and smothered in mashed potatoes. And then when that's done, I think I'll eat the equivalent of a year's worth of sugar. That is. . . " and here he paused, looking around to see who'd already guessed what he was going to say. . . and who still had no clue what the joke was about. Jeffrey was unfortunately, but predictably, among the latter.
Next to Lucas, Whit rolled his eyes and leaned forward. "Pumpkin pie, jerk," he called down to Jeff.
"Oh!" Jeff exclaimed, momentarily relieved before turning red in embarrassment. "Yeah," he said after awhile. "I figured that, but-- I mean, are you hanging out with your. . . family?" He glanced at Lucas' face once or twice, but couldn't seem to maintain the eye contact for any length of time.
"Jeff, man, I swear to God if this is some sort of-- " Whit started, but Lana put a hand on his arm. Like always, whenever she made herself known, it was impossible to ignore her. Whitney instantly cut himself off in order to turn and look at her.
Lucas, in the meantime, kept trying to get Jeff to look back at him. He didn't like the idea that someone as big and confident as Jeffrey McCloskey was somehow anxious about asking him something.
It indicated some level of fear on the boy's part, and Lucas couldn't. . . well, that was just unacceptable. No one was going to be afraid of him.
Lucas stood up from his chair, and quickly but carefully walked around the many scattered chairs, footstools, and backpacks to where Jeff was sitting on the sofa. The spot next to the boy was empty, save a big blue and white coat. Lucas suddenly remembered Jeff was a big Sharks fan, and carefully moved the boy's coat to rest on the back of the Beanery's sofa before sitting down.
Lana had started up conversation again on the other side of the group, Whitney playing along perfectly. Lucas appreciated it, and managed to briefly catch her eyes and nod his thanks before turning back to a now even more embarrassed Jeff.
"Uh, hey," Jeff said, surprising Lucas by speaking up first. "Look, man, that was, uh-- I mean, I know that stuff was outta line. Asking about. . . your family and stuff?" He shifted slightly, and Lucas felt sad when he realized the boy was trying to move away subtly. "I'm sorry, dude," Jeff added, and to make things worse he seemed to mean it too.
Lucas was frowning, but he couldn't seem to make himself stop. In an attempt not to appear too emotional, he looked at the side of Jeff's face while mentally imagining himself somewhere else.
"I'm not upset," Lucas told the boy. Jeff glanced over at him before quickly ducking his head down again. It'd taken just a few seconds, but it was long enough for Jeff's disbelief to register. "I'm not," Lucas insisted, and this time Jeff openly scoffed. "What, you think I'm not used to it by now or something?"
Jeff just groaned and brought a hand up to cover his face.
"I don't understand," Lucas finally admitted. "You didn't ask anything I haven't answered a hundred times before. Why are you embarrassed? I'm not. I'm just puzzled, really."
Jeff gave a heavy sigh before dropping his hand back to the sofa's armrest. He cast a look over to where Whitney and Lana were distracting everyone else, and Lucas finally managed to drag his smile up at that.
"Yeah, I wouldn't mind their help with this, either," Lucas shared, startling a brief return smile out of the kid.
"It's just," Jeff began hesitantly, "asking about your personal life is kinda. . . mean."
"'Mean?'"
Jeff nodded. "Yeah, you know," he said emphatically, "mean. . . cos of-- cos of your. . . history and all." He shrugged, obviously uncomfortable, but Lucas was still utterly confused.
"My family history?" Lucas asked. He thought about it, and added, "Because of-- ?" hoping for more clarification.
Jeff's face started turning red. "Cos o' your. . . dad," he said in something very much like a whisper.
"Oh," Lucas breathed out. "I see."
"Yeah," Jeff mumbled, shifting away again slightly and hunching in on himself. Lucas was reminded of a turtle withdrawing into its shell.
"I'm still not upset," he repeated a moment later. Jeff scoffed again, eyes anywhere and everywhere but on Lucas. "That, too, is a topic with which I'm extremely familiar. Reporters from the tabloids and the internet sites seem especially fond of that one."
"That's the problem!" Jeff hissed, hand once again trying to hide his face. "They ask those things. . . because they're mean and, um, insensitive." He verbally stumbled for a moment, but regrouped quickly enough. "We're supposed to be nice cos you're our friend." Jeff blushed again after saying that, but didn't attempt to take it back in any way. "You're my friend, and it was a stupid thing to do. . . ask you that shit just cos I was. . . curious."
Lucas suddenly had an idea, and although it might end up backfiring on him, the urge to go through with it was just too tempting.
He waited a moment until even the conversation Lana and Whitney had struck up slowly began to stall. Then, looking only at Jeff, Lucas said in a voice that would carry, "Lex would be laughing his ass off at this."
There were many reactions, some quite obvious with others much more subtle. All of them were amusing, though, especially Jeff's. The boy looked like a fish gasping for air.
Lucas leaned back on the sofa and let his smile slowly turn into a grin. "He would," he insisted, as though anyone in the coffee shop now would ever argue with him about knowing what Lex would or would not find funny. "He'd chuckle and grin and probably shamelessly flirt with all the girls." There was startled laughter, like letting it out had been a reflex and completely unintended.
That was Lucas' favorite kind.
Then there was silence, everyone still too nervous and aware of Jeff's situation to ask Lucas to continue.
It was Lana who saved him again.
"I actually met him once," she said from across the room, and as everyone's heads swiveled to her, Lucas met her eyes and smiled at her for real. Lana shifted in her chair, folding her arms across her chest and assuming the storyteller's position. "Actually, not so much met as. . . saw really close-up," she amended. "I was ten, and Nell and I were up in Metropolis for a riding competition the next day. We'd been invited to stay at the, uh. . . " She too fumbled for the right words, eventually just saying, "at the big Luthor mansion. She'd sold. . . them some land and. . . well, anyway, one of the servants told me there was an indoor pool so I went to look."
Lucas took a moment to look around and saw everyone completely engrossed in the tale.
It was wonderful.
"Well," Lana continued, "imagine my surprise at finally finding the pool, only to see a couple making out it in it." There was more of that spontaneous laughter, only this time with a few more dirty chuckles added in. "Needless to say, Lex Luthor is, uh, pretty recognizable." She paused a minute in mock thoughtfulness. "I think he was teaching his 'partner' the breast stroke?" Lana added, at which point everyone laughed again.
Some people looked back at Lucas to gauge his reaction, and it was one of the rare occasions where he didn't need to act at all. He was grinning and felt like shaking his head a little at a much younger Lex's antics. . . and so he did just that.
And those were the appropriate actions for the situation. He was being right without even trying. He was normal. . . and when he met Lana's eyes again, he realized it was because of her.
"Yeah, that's definitely Lex," Lucas finally said. "Evidently he was quite the, uh, black sheep of the family once upon a time."
Someone snorted in disbelief. Lucas thought it was probably Whitney and, sure enough, looking over, he recognized the skepticism on the other boy's face readily enough. It was the same expression he wore whenever Lana told him his homework was correct, or when one of his buddies declared he was a shoo-in for a football scholarship. In the case of the former, Lucas could attest that Whitney was right to be a little dubious. Most of his essays were truly atrocious. Well, they were prior to Lana getting her hands on them and "proofreading" them. After that, they read like poetry.
As for the latter, though, Lucas had it on quite good authority that a football scholarship wasn't all that farfetched a possibility in Whitney's case. At least, it wouldn't be if Lucas had any say in it.
"He was," Lucas insisted, heads turning back to him like the idiomatic saying declared. It was very much like a tennis match, only he and Lana were actually on the same side. "There was a time his name was always in the tabloids. I tend to think he rather enjoyed it too," he added, garnering a few smiles in response.
It hadn't escaped Lucas' notice that she'd referred to the person Lex had been making out with as 'partner,' instead of the more accurate 'him.' If Lana had been ten years old at the time, then that would have put Lex at 16, and at 16 there would have been only one person Lex would've brought into that house.
Lex may have been many things, but promiscuous was never one of them, and neither was stupid. He'd known to some degree what being in that house had been like, and he certainly wouldn't have brought someone there if he hadn't been confident in that person's ability to. . . verbally defend him/herself against Lionel.
Which, using that criteria, left about one possibility and one only as to the identity of Lex's 'swimming partner.'
Lana, it seemed, had once stumbled upon Lex and Bruce going at it in Lionel's old house, in Lionel's pool, no less.
Lucas was going to tease him about this mercilessly for the foreseeable future. It would be hilarious.
"So," Lana began, "are you all getting together for the holiday then?" She asked it effortlessly, after sharing a look with Jeff that Lucas couldn't quite understand. "The whole Luthor clan?" she joked.
Lucas nodded. "Yes, but I imagine we'll meet in Gotham, not Metropolis. Julian and Bruce are there, and Alfred is easily the best cook in the country." Some of the kids laughed, while others' mouths just dropped open, seemingly in surprise. "Lex swears by this new French chef he's hired, but. . . I think I prefer eating food rather than art."
Lana smiled, but it was a bit strained. Lucas had the uncomfortable feeling he'd said something wrong again.
"Sounds nice," Whitney commented. "Me, I'll be stuck in the house with every relative this side of the equator, all badgering me about school and ball and how much I've grown since the last time they saw me."
"Me too, dude," Jeff piped up. "Do you get the 'what are you going to do with your life' speech? Cos that's about all my uncle ever says to me. Well, that and 'pass the damn potatoes, Jeffy.'"
"'Jeffy?!'" one of the other guys repeated incredulously.
"Oh, shut up," Jeff grumbled, but people were already chuckling. " 'used to be my nickname," he explained tersely. Then looking around Lucas, he glared at the boy, Brian, who was laughing the hardest. "Can it, Wendell," he said, "or I'll go ahead and share that story about fifth grade roll call. The one where the sub mistook you for a girl and called out for a Wendy-- "
"Hey!" Brian shouted, getting to his feet and waving his hands as everyone started laughing hysterically. "No need for that, man. Jesus," he said, sitting back down and returning Jeff's glare with one of his own. "You play dirty, fucker."
Jeff just smiled and relaxed back into the sofa for the first time since Lucas had sat down next to him.
Lucas laughed, and smiled, and. . . he remembered he was 18 years old today.
Next
Everyone became very still, and very quiet, and Lucas brought up his smile to prove he wasn't upset at all.
"Well, Jeff," he began, in a voice and tone much like that of a newscaster. The kids around him laughed, and even Lucas thought it was kind of funny. "I fully plan on embracing that age-old tradition known as turkey gorging." There was more laughter at that, more genuine and spontaneous. "I will consume roughly a small child's weight in turkey, which will of course be drowned in gravy and smothered in mashed potatoes. And then when that's done, I think I'll eat the equivalent of a year's worth of sugar. That is. . . " and here he paused, looking around to see who'd already guessed what he was going to say. . . and who still had no clue what the joke was about. Jeffrey was unfortunately, but predictably, among the latter.
Next to Lucas, Whit rolled his eyes and leaned forward. "Pumpkin pie, jerk," he called down to Jeff.
"Oh!" Jeff exclaimed, momentarily relieved before turning red in embarrassment. "Yeah," he said after awhile. "I figured that, but-- I mean, are you hanging out with your. . . family?" He glanced at Lucas' face once or twice, but couldn't seem to maintain the eye contact for any length of time.
"Jeff, man, I swear to God if this is some sort of-- " Whit started, but Lana put a hand on his arm. Like always, whenever she made herself known, it was impossible to ignore her. Whitney instantly cut himself off in order to turn and look at her.
Lucas, in the meantime, kept trying to get Jeff to look back at him. He didn't like the idea that someone as big and confident as Jeffrey McCloskey was somehow anxious about asking him something.
It indicated some level of fear on the boy's part, and Lucas couldn't. . . well, that was just unacceptable. No one was going to be afraid of him.
Lucas stood up from his chair, and quickly but carefully walked around the many scattered chairs, footstools, and backpacks to where Jeff was sitting on the sofa. The spot next to the boy was empty, save a big blue and white coat. Lucas suddenly remembered Jeff was a big Sharks fan, and carefully moved the boy's coat to rest on the back of the Beanery's sofa before sitting down.
Lana had started up conversation again on the other side of the group, Whitney playing along perfectly. Lucas appreciated it, and managed to briefly catch her eyes and nod his thanks before turning back to a now even more embarrassed Jeff.
"Uh, hey," Jeff said, surprising Lucas by speaking up first. "Look, man, that was, uh-- I mean, I know that stuff was outta line. Asking about. . . your family and stuff?" He shifted slightly, and Lucas felt sad when he realized the boy was trying to move away subtly. "I'm sorry, dude," Jeff added, and to make things worse he seemed to mean it too.
Lucas was frowning, but he couldn't seem to make himself stop. In an attempt not to appear too emotional, he looked at the side of Jeff's face while mentally imagining himself somewhere else.
"I'm not upset," Lucas told the boy. Jeff glanced over at him before quickly ducking his head down again. It'd taken just a few seconds, but it was long enough for Jeff's disbelief to register. "I'm not," Lucas insisted, and this time Jeff openly scoffed. "What, you think I'm not used to it by now or something?"
Jeff just groaned and brought a hand up to cover his face.
"I don't understand," Lucas finally admitted. "You didn't ask anything I haven't answered a hundred times before. Why are you embarrassed? I'm not. I'm just puzzled, really."
Jeff gave a heavy sigh before dropping his hand back to the sofa's armrest. He cast a look over to where Whitney and Lana were distracting everyone else, and Lucas finally managed to drag his smile up at that.
"Yeah, I wouldn't mind their help with this, either," Lucas shared, startling a brief return smile out of the kid.
"It's just," Jeff began hesitantly, "asking about your personal life is kinda. . . mean."
"'Mean?'"
Jeff nodded. "Yeah, you know," he said emphatically, "mean. . . cos of-- cos of your. . . history and all." He shrugged, obviously uncomfortable, but Lucas was still utterly confused.
"My family history?" Lucas asked. He thought about it, and added, "Because of-- ?" hoping for more clarification.
Jeff's face started turning red. "Cos o' your. . . dad," he said in something very much like a whisper.
"Oh," Lucas breathed out. "I see."
"Yeah," Jeff mumbled, shifting away again slightly and hunching in on himself. Lucas was reminded of a turtle withdrawing into its shell.
"I'm still not upset," he repeated a moment later. Jeff scoffed again, eyes anywhere and everywhere but on Lucas. "That, too, is a topic with which I'm extremely familiar. Reporters from the tabloids and the internet sites seem especially fond of that one."
"That's the problem!" Jeff hissed, hand once again trying to hide his face. "They ask those things. . . because they're mean and, um, insensitive." He verbally stumbled for a moment, but regrouped quickly enough. "We're supposed to be nice cos you're our friend." Jeff blushed again after saying that, but didn't attempt to take it back in any way. "You're my friend, and it was a stupid thing to do. . . ask you that shit just cos I was. . . curious."
Lucas suddenly had an idea, and although it might end up backfiring on him, the urge to go through with it was just too tempting.
He waited a moment until even the conversation Lana and Whitney had struck up slowly began to stall. Then, looking only at Jeff, Lucas said in a voice that would carry, "Lex would be laughing his ass off at this."
There were many reactions, some quite obvious with others much more subtle. All of them were amusing, though, especially Jeff's. The boy looked like a fish gasping for air.
Lucas leaned back on the sofa and let his smile slowly turn into a grin. "He would," he insisted, as though anyone in the coffee shop now would ever argue with him about knowing what Lex would or would not find funny. "He'd chuckle and grin and probably shamelessly flirt with all the girls." There was startled laughter, like letting it out had been a reflex and completely unintended.
That was Lucas' favorite kind.
Then there was silence, everyone still too nervous and aware of Jeff's situation to ask Lucas to continue.
It was Lana who saved him again.
"I actually met him once," she said from across the room, and as everyone's heads swiveled to her, Lucas met her eyes and smiled at her for real. Lana shifted in her chair, folding her arms across her chest and assuming the storyteller's position. "Actually, not so much met as. . . saw really close-up," she amended. "I was ten, and Nell and I were up in Metropolis for a riding competition the next day. We'd been invited to stay at the, uh. . . " She too fumbled for the right words, eventually just saying, "at the big Luthor mansion. She'd sold. . . them some land and. . . well, anyway, one of the servants told me there was an indoor pool so I went to look."
Lucas took a moment to look around and saw everyone completely engrossed in the tale.
It was wonderful.
"Well," Lana continued, "imagine my surprise at finally finding the pool, only to see a couple making out it in it." There was more of that spontaneous laughter, only this time with a few more dirty chuckles added in. "Needless to say, Lex Luthor is, uh, pretty recognizable." She paused a minute in mock thoughtfulness. "I think he was teaching his 'partner' the breast stroke?" Lana added, at which point everyone laughed again.
Some people looked back at Lucas to gauge his reaction, and it was one of the rare occasions where he didn't need to act at all. He was grinning and felt like shaking his head a little at a much younger Lex's antics. . . and so he did just that.
And those were the appropriate actions for the situation. He was being right without even trying. He was normal. . . and when he met Lana's eyes again, he realized it was because of her.
"Yeah, that's definitely Lex," Lucas finally said. "Evidently he was quite the, uh, black sheep of the family once upon a time."
Someone snorted in disbelief. Lucas thought it was probably Whitney and, sure enough, looking over, he recognized the skepticism on the other boy's face readily enough. It was the same expression he wore whenever Lana told him his homework was correct, or when one of his buddies declared he was a shoo-in for a football scholarship. In the case of the former, Lucas could attest that Whitney was right to be a little dubious. Most of his essays were truly atrocious. Well, they were prior to Lana getting her hands on them and "proofreading" them. After that, they read like poetry.
As for the latter, though, Lucas had it on quite good authority that a football scholarship wasn't all that farfetched a possibility in Whitney's case. At least, it wouldn't be if Lucas had any say in it.
"He was," Lucas insisted, heads turning back to him like the idiomatic saying declared. It was very much like a tennis match, only he and Lana were actually on the same side. "There was a time his name was always in the tabloids. I tend to think he rather enjoyed it too," he added, garnering a few smiles in response.
It hadn't escaped Lucas' notice that she'd referred to the person Lex had been making out with as 'partner,' instead of the more accurate 'him.' If Lana had been ten years old at the time, then that would have put Lex at 16, and at 16 there would have been only one person Lex would've brought into that house.
Lex may have been many things, but promiscuous was never one of them, and neither was stupid. He'd known to some degree what being in that house had been like, and he certainly wouldn't have brought someone there if he hadn't been confident in that person's ability to. . . verbally defend him/herself against Lionel.
Which, using that criteria, left about one possibility and one only as to the identity of Lex's 'swimming partner.'
Lana, it seemed, had once stumbled upon Lex and Bruce going at it in Lionel's old house, in Lionel's pool, no less.
Lucas was going to tease him about this mercilessly for the foreseeable future. It would be hilarious.
"So," Lana began, "are you all getting together for the holiday then?" She asked it effortlessly, after sharing a look with Jeff that Lucas couldn't quite understand. "The whole Luthor clan?" she joked.
Lucas nodded. "Yes, but I imagine we'll meet in Gotham, not Metropolis. Julian and Bruce are there, and Alfred is easily the best cook in the country." Some of the kids laughed, while others' mouths just dropped open, seemingly in surprise. "Lex swears by this new French chef he's hired, but. . . I think I prefer eating food rather than art."
Lana smiled, but it was a bit strained. Lucas had the uncomfortable feeling he'd said something wrong again.
"Sounds nice," Whitney commented. "Me, I'll be stuck in the house with every relative this side of the equator, all badgering me about school and ball and how much I've grown since the last time they saw me."
"Me too, dude," Jeff piped up. "Do you get the 'what are you going to do with your life' speech? Cos that's about all my uncle ever says to me. Well, that and 'pass the damn potatoes, Jeffy.'"
"'Jeffy?!'" one of the other guys repeated incredulously.
"Oh, shut up," Jeff grumbled, but people were already chuckling. " 'used to be my nickname," he explained tersely. Then looking around Lucas, he glared at the boy, Brian, who was laughing the hardest. "Can it, Wendell," he said, "or I'll go ahead and share that story about fifth grade roll call. The one where the sub mistook you for a girl and called out for a Wendy-- "
"Hey!" Brian shouted, getting to his feet and waving his hands as everyone started laughing hysterically. "No need for that, man. Jesus," he said, sitting back down and returning Jeff's glare with one of his own. "You play dirty, fucker."
Jeff just smiled and relaxed back into the sofa for the first time since Lucas had sat down next to him.
Lucas laughed, and smiled, and. . . he remembered he was 18 years old today.
Next