Kids' friendships are so pure—sometimes it doesn't even take a few words, just a couple of games to hit it off.
Dodging a snowball Chloe lobbed his way with a bit of intentional clumsiness, Clark pretended to stumble in the deep snow.
He bent down to scoop up some snow, deliberately moving slowly, careful to keep his strength in check so the snowball came out soft and fluffy, not a hard ice chunk. Then he aimed at Chloe and tossed it, the snowball arcing through the air in a perfectly normal trajectory.
Nailed it!
Clark let out a quiet sigh of relief.
He didn't want to hurt anyone, and he definitely didn't want to end up with no one to play with.
"Haha! Missed me!" Chloe laughed, nimbly dodging as her golden-brown hair bounced in the sunlight.
Clark grinned back, but his eyes couldn't help drifting to a quiet figure nearby.
Lois Lane, Chloe's cousin.
She wasn't joining in their snowball fight.
Instead, she stood alone a little ways off, on untouched snow, her back to them and her head slightly bowed.
She seemed to be holding a small notebook and a pen, scribbling something with intense focus. Every now and then, she'd look up, her sharp gaze scanning the scene—the snow-covered farmhouse, the pine trees in the distance bent under the weight of the snow, the icicles glittering under the eaves, and even Clark and Chloe in their snowball fight—before quickly ducking her head to jot down more notes.
Clark couldn't shake the feeling that this was… kinda weird.
Lois was about their age, but her focus and the way she seemed totally unbothered by everything around her made her feel out of place.
She reminded him of Dio, in a way.
Same kind of maturity, same vibe of being in their own world.
"Chloe," Clark said, taking advantage of a moment when Chloe was busy packing another snowball. He nodded toward Lois and lowered his voice, curious. "What's your cousin up to? Why's she not playing with us?"
Chloe glanced over, then shrugged. "Oh, Lois? She's probably 'working.' She's in ninth grade, you know."
"Working?" Clark blinked, even more confused.
What kind of job could a kid have?
"Yup!" Chloe stood up, brushing snow off her gloves, her face a mix of admiration and a touch of exasperation. "She's a reporter for her school paper! Super awesome. She's always got that notebook with her, writing down everything she sees, talking about 'capturing the truth' and 'chasing stories.'"
She mimicked Lois's serious tone, then stuck out her tongue in a goofy face.
"She probably thinks our snowball fight is too childish," Chloe added. "She's busy documenting the aftermath of the blizzard—or maybe what the house of the 'God Guy' who saved my grandpa looks like." Her eyes widened as she looked around at the snowy landscape and the Kent farmhouse, a spark of excitement in her gaze that echoed Lois's, but brighter and more open. "Honestly, it's pretty cool! It's my goal, too!"
"Your goal?" Clark asked, not quite following.
"To be a school reporter!" Chloe said, puffing out her chest with pride. "Like Lois! Writing about all the interesting, important stuff happening at school or in town, so everyone knows about it!"
"School paper?" Clark repeated, the term completely foreign to him, his blue eyes full of confusion.
"What's that?"
Chloe whipped her head around, staring at him like he'd just admitted to being an alien. Her mouth dropped open. "You… you don't know what a school paper is?!"
Her voice was thick with disbelief.
Clark, feeling a little uneasy under her stare, shook his head honestly. "Nope. Our school… Smallville Elementary… doesn't have one."
"No school paper?!" Chloe's voice shot up an octave, like she'd just heard the worst news in the world.
The excitement and energy drained from her face, replaced by a look of near despair.
"Smallville Elementary… no school paper?!" she muttered, as if the harsh reality had knocked the wind out of her. She stood there, dazed, whispering to herself, "So… you're telling me… after this winter break, when I transfer here… I'm gonna have to live without a school paper?!"
She imagined a future where she couldn't interview, write, or publish stories like Lois, and it was like her whole world lost its color. The snowball she'd been holding slipped from her hand, forgotten on the ground.
Clark watched her face fall and her eyes lose their spark, and he felt totally out of his depth.
He had no idea why a school paper was such a big deal to Chloe or how to cheer her up. Scratching his head, he fumbled for words. "Uh… well, our school's actually pretty cool. We've got…"
But before he could finish, Chloe snapped out of her funk like she'd woken up from a bad dream. She shook her head hard, shaking off the gloom.
Taking a deep breath of the crisp air, her eyes refocused, and that lively spark returned.
"Whatever!" she said, like she was hyping herself up. "No school paper? Fine, we'll figure it out!"
Then, a mischievous glint flashed in her eyes. While Clark was still scrambling for something comforting to say, she grabbed the slightly frozen snowball she'd dropped and chucked it right at him.
"Hey! Take this! The 'No School Paper Blues' cannonball!"
Thwack!
The snowball hit Clark square in the chest, bits of snow splattering onto his face, cold and refreshing.
"Whoa!" Clark played along, stumbling back a step, secretly relieved to see Chloe's energy back.
He wiped the snow off his face, grinning as Chloe stood there, hands on her hips, laughing triumphantly. For now, he pushed his curiosity about the serious-seeming Lois to the back of his mind.
But that didn't mean no one was paying attention to him. The girl scribbling in her notebook nearby had noticed the commotion.
Lois glanced up, her eyes landing on the two kids roughhousing. Her gaze lingered for a moment on Clark—specifically on the way he stumbled the exact same way every time a snowball hit him. Her brow furrowed slightly.
From the moment she'd seen this country boy at the door, something about him had felt… off.
She couldn't put her finger on it—just a vague sense, like a faint ripple beneath a calm surface.
"Sis, what're you looking at?" Chloe asked, noticing Lois's stare. "Why're you watching Clark?"
Lois gave a soft "hm" in response, her eyes still fixed on Clark.
Clark's cheeks flushed slightly, and he rubbed his gloved hands together nervously.
Used to being just another unnoticed farm kid in Smallville, this sudden attention made him squirm.
"Uh… is something wrong?" he asked cautiously, his blue eyes catching the snowy light as he instinctively avoided Lois's intense stare.
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