Chloe's cheeks pinken with embarrassment, seemingly lost in these uncharted waters. For as long as she had hoped that one day Clark's feelings for her might shift, allowing him to see her in the same light she has always seen him, she couldn't help but fear that it might be too risky a gamble to take. There was a certain comfort in knowing that what she and Clark shared was much deeper than the casual emotions involved in the week long flings that are the standard for teenage relationships.

     Even though she had always resided on a different plane than her peers, sometimes her heart would allow her to feel the pangs of longing to be one of the normal girls who could find contentment in the silliness of youth. However, when it came to Chloe's internal struggles her mind had a way of always winning out over her heart. She could only allow herself to dream about a life that was uncomplicated. For she had been dealt a difficult hand, and she would play it, even if it meant she was the one who would always end up losing.

     Blinking away Clark's mention of beauty, Chloe performs her role of sidekick tomboy, feeling security in the comfort of familiarity.

     "Yeah, well flattery won't get you anywhere here," she says, flashing him her trademark smile. The smile that would have to continue to hide her secret, despite how much she wanted to explore what was hidden behind his. She could not will herself to risk losing Clark as her friend. He was a constant in her world full of chaos, and she had come to rely on him being there, needing his strength now more than ever.

     Letting down her facade for one brief moment she says "Thanks for picking me up, I don't know what I'd do without you", her eyes pouring out a piece of her tender soul. If only he wasn't too blind to see it.
 
 

******
 

     Clark pulls up in front of the apartment complex, turning off the ignition. He unlocks his seat belt, ready to walk her up to the door.

     "I'm a big girl, Clark", she says, popping the door open, hopping out, surprising him with her speed. "I won't get lost on the way up the stairs" she smiles, peering through the window of the closed door. "Thanks again, for the ride" she says, patting the truck in a 'see ya' kind of way. She turns away, running up the metal staircase in a way that canít help but pique his interest.
 

******
 

     Chloe lets herself into the apartment, feeling her way through the darkness for the light switch. She flicks it on, revealing the tiny old, cramped apartment she and her father now call home.

     "Dad?" she calls out, wading through the sea of boxes and garbage that cover the floor, her face appearing to have aged ten years from the moment she walked through the door.

      "Dad?!" she yells, setting down her backpack on the couch, grabbing up a trash bag. She starts tossing the beer bottles from the table into the bag, deliberately trying to make as much noise as possible.

     Following the trail of alcohol she's led to her father laying unconscious on the floor. Sadly the site no longer strikes panic in her, for it was becoming a routine, one she wished she never had to perform, but one she was required to on a nightly basis.

      Gabe Sullivan's face is hardly recognizable as the man who had once been so respected around Smallville. His face was now bloated and puffy, covered with day old stubble. His body clouding the room with the stench of one with no regard for their own appearance. This man who had once been so modest around his teenage daughter was passed out wearing only a stained undershirt and boxers, revealing to her a part of her dad she wished she never had to see.

     As though by reflex, Chloe begins the chore of waking him up, having to ignore the incoherent slurs he spews as she fights him off the floor and into his bed. She's able to tune out the harsh words he aims at her, yet the ones he speaks against her mother are difficult to swallow, striking her with the realization that she has somehow stepped into her mom's role herself.

     Coming out of the room, she continues trying to pick up the mess, quickly becoming defeated by the overwhelming task. So many times before she had spent the night dealing with whatever mess her father had created that day, but this night she didn't have the energy. The strain of living a double life beginning to have an effect on her stamina.

     She drags herself into the tiny kitchen, having not eaten all day, she was starving. Yet, the contents of the kitchen left much to be desired: a brown head of lettuce, a half empty bottle of ketchup, something unidentifiable in tin foil, and a couple bottles of beer. Not even Martha Stewart could whip something out of those ingredients, so Chloe saw no reason to try herself.

     Not able to escape the silence of her loneliness with the luxuries of cable or internet, Chloe's left to fill the void with the only thing that can't be turned off by lack of payment. She opens her heart to the pages of her journal, revealing the truth of her sadness in the words she hides in the book of her life.